#what if the manager cogs were my friends

[confuseddrawings]

like whats up manger

[suhkusa]

OPEN ARMS.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. ALL CHARACTERS 18+, angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, childhood friends to fwb to lovers 0-0, he’s dumb, you’re dumb, feelings, smut but it’s not detailed, dubious consent, please let me know if i missed anything!

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. If you’ve seen this before no you haven’t!!! first time writing for mha :p

I.

The first time you fucked Bakugou, it was a mistake.

It was during your 19th birthday party, which he had thrown for you “out of the kindness of his heart”, he’d say.

You two clearly had too much to drink, but so did your friends around you. Too much where none of them seemed to notice as the two of you slipped out of the living room to his own room.

The first time with him was your first time at all.

And even then, even in his drunken stupor, he still handled you with care.

Despite his rough and unruly nature he usually displayed, he was gentle. It was a funny thought though, Katsuki Bakugou fucks gently.

“Are- you sure?”, he mutters, toying with the waistband of your panties.

You managed to slur out a weak, “mhm”, before he began to slowly slip off your clothes. One by one.

And even though it was gentle, it was messy. Each kiss is filled with saliva and teeth. Every thrust is hesitant but thorough. Everything was him.

When the time came and you two were lying in bed, chests heaving as your minds tried to catch up with your bodies. You had just fucked your childhood best friend.

The rest of the night was awkward as the two of you sobered up, yes. But when morning came, it was like nothing happened.

It was a silent agreement, never again.

——

II.

The second time you fucked Bakugou, it was by choice.

Though, not for the reason you thought it’d be.

“The hell are you at my door for? It’s 2 in the—”

“He cheated, Katsuki,”

His eyes met with your tear-stained face, his face dropping in realization.

“Shit,” he looked around before eyes locking back onto you, “c’mere you big baby,”

Bakugou’s arms opened before you fell into them.

His scent and touch are familiar. Somewhat nostalgic of the time you two were kids and he’d comfort you after beating up the boys who’d tease you.

“S’alright,” he muttered, “you know he was ugly as shit anyways,”

You cry more after he says that, knowing he was right, but still hurting more nonetheless.

“Sheesh,” he lets you go to lead you into his house.

Without his help, you make your way into his room, welcoming yourself to the warm blankets. You hog them to yourself, whining when he tugs them off.

“Don’t cry over him, he was a piece of shit, and I told you so,” he snickers, still with a comforting tone.

You sniffle, “I know- I know, it still hurts though,”

It hurts because it was your first relationship. It hurts because outside Katsuki, you’ve never put so much effort and trust into a person. And for it to be thrown away made you feel nothing but worthless. 7 months may not have been long, but to you it felt like eternity.

Bakugou rolls his eyes dismissively, knowing that little to nothing he could do would help, “you need anything?”

To this day, you don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way he looked at you with care instead of his usual roughness, or the way your heart yearned for touch and comfort. Perhaps it was the way that even though, yes, Bakugou warned you about your cheating ex and you didn’t listen, he let his pride down and came to the rescue.

“You,”

“Don’t say that, freak,” he shrugs your words off as a joke, moving to get up, “I’ll be in the livi—“

Your hands move before your brain can stop it, latching onto his wrist.

“Please,”

Your teary eyes watch the cogs turn in his brain. Before you realize, he’s lifting your chin with a rough hand, bringing your lips to his. And before you can catch a breath, he’s onto you, taking you once again.

——

III.

The the third time you fucked Bakugou, you realize this would become a regular thing.

There was no heartache or liquor. There were two friends, lonely but still content, bored with nothing to do.

You don’t really remember what initiated it, or who, one moment you guys were watching the latest episode of that sitcom he showed you, and the next you were on top of him.

He lifted your hips and slammed into you, over and over until you couldn’t even think about how you got into this position. Until all of your senses were just filled with him, him, and him.

“You’re mine,” he grabbed at your chin, forcing you to look at him, “you hear me?”

In the heat of the moment, you gasp a loose, “yes,” before locking your lips with his.

Your body was hot and wet, and his words only ignited the flames in your stomach even higher before you couldn’t take it anymore, falling against him as your pussy convulsed around his length.

As your chest heaved against his, your mind cleared a bit, thinking back on his words.

His.

The concept of being his was a nice thought. Though you know you could never commit anymore. Especially to him. Bakugou’s your best friend, and your love for him would always be just that.

This is casual. It doesn’t have to mean anything. People have casual flings or friends with benefits all the time. It just so happens yours is with your best friend. You two were grown adults now, you both know well what you’re getting yourselves into. Best friends can fuck without feelings being involved.

Right?

——

VI.

The next couple of times you fucked Bakugou, you noticed a shift.

It was a subtle slow shift, it came in waves that only grew every time he touched you.

In the moment, it was great. Everything about it. The way he fucked, the way he cared for you. It was just a little bonus of your guys’ hangouts. You guys still do the things you would do before this whole arrangement started. Talk, gossip, eat food, sleep. And before you knew it, sex became a part of the routine.

And if you were being honest, you enjoyed it. It filled the hole that had been left by your ex. But now that you had gotten over him, it felt like you were about to burst at the seams by the whiplash Bakugou gave you.

You never gave a second thought to this arrangement you two had. It felt normal. You guys had always been this close. Through school, college, and even having your first jobs together. Of course, there were times you guys were apart, but even still you two managed to remain as close as ever.

After the first several times, you began to experience this weird feeling in your chest. You didn’t want to put a name to the emotion out of the fear it’d create more problems than you needed.

But you could only silence your heart for so long until it begins to boil over.

It was after the second round of the day. You’re dazed as you stare at the ceiling, legs sore, cunt aching.

You feel your throat get caught on itself as you try to make up the words to come out. It feels thick as you say it. Scared to know his answer, scared that this all could fall apart— that you’d fall apart.

“Why are we doing this?” you start, hesitant.

“Not sure,” he mutters, scrolling through his phone, “it’s fun?”

It’s fun. Yeah, maybe that was it. That phrase would simmer in the depths of your mind, constantly trying to convince yourself yes, this was fun. So much to block out the painful tinge you’d feel in your chest after every time you lie in bed together after having sex.

This was your childhood best friend. Bakugou Katsuki. Anyone could have him but he’s lying here with you. You realize the possibility of going back to how things were was slim. He’s not going to be that hard-headed, obnoxious friend you’d known since you were kids anymore. It’s gone past that boundary, and you’re scared to keep exploring the uncharted territory.

It’s then you realize that maybe this was a mistake after all.

——

VIII.

It’s the 7th— no, 8th? You’ve lost count. Nonetheless, it was this time that you realized you loved Bakugou Katsuki.

Perhaps you’ve always known this, just pushing all the emotions to the back of your heart and mind for the sake of the friendship.

But you knew all too well that those boundaries had been pushed too far. Time and time you told yourself that this was all okay, but it wasn’t. And it felt like you were slowly tearing yourself apart.

He was tearing you apart, but it was no one’s fault but your own.

The words he’s been using have been getting riskier and riskier. Toying with the romantic edge of things.

Bakugou was being rougher than usual, a bad day at work being the source. Though you didn’t mind, it felt good nonetheless. It’s rare for him to shock you with his words.

“Fuck,” he groans in your ear, “you’re beautiful,”

His words make you clench around him harder, egging you on to whimper in his ear.

“You’re too fuckin’ good— way- too good,”

His cock pummeled your insides and he thrusted into you relentlessly, praise raining from his mouth like an everflowing river.

“I want you— bad,” his grip on your hips tightens, and the telltale look on his face tells you he’s about to finish.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs lowly as he cums, so low you barely miss it under your own soft gasps. So low you weren’t even sure you heard it right.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes, what an asshole.

Your insecurity gets the best of you so you just pull him tighter to your body in response to whatever he said.

His words poke and prod at your heart. It feels good to hear it. But it hurts worse knowing it’s the sex talking. It’s the frustrations from work talking. It’s all fake. It’s all talk. No meaning or emotion to back it up.

Bakugou doesn’t even realize it, but he’s encouraging you and your feelings for him. And you don’t know how much more you can take.

——

I.

It was the first time that Katsuki fucked you, he realized he loved you.

You were a constant in his life, and while you were annoying at times, you were always there, even the times where he was shitty towards you.

Katsuki knew you were pretty, always have been— even when the two of you were kids and you’d have mud and dirt all over your face after tussling with him.

But especially now you were gorgeous. Glossy-eyed and so vulnerable underneath him. It was as if he forced himself to sober up, just so that he could remember this moment.

He knew it was selfish to act upon his own desires, and so he asked,

“Are- you sure?”

Everything about you was pretty, his eyes fixated on your lips as you muttered a sweet “mhm”.

Katsuki wishes he had photographic memory so he could remember and cherish every second of it.

He knew this couldn’t happen again. The relationship you two already had was too good for him to let his personal feelings interfere. And he was okay with that. He had his own things to worry about.

There were too many things going on in his life. And even if you wanted him (the chances are slim), he doesn’t know if he’d be able to give you what you needed or wanted. He liked being friends with you for so long because you made everything so easy. He didn’t want to ruin what you had because of his stupid, selfish feelings.

But for now, he’ll indulge in himself. Just this once.

It was the first time that Bakugou Katsuki fucked you that he realized, for him, this wasn’t a mistake.

——

X.

This time would be the last, you told yourself.

You’d let yourself fall into him once more. Let him hold you once more. Be with him once more. And then you’d call it quits. You’d force yourself and him to go back to how things were. No matter what.

You want him, but that’s all it could ever be. And you couldn’t want him. He’s your best friend. The only love you should’ve ever had for him was platonic, but circumstances you forced upon yourself changed that.

You’re able to tell when he’s in the mood. He looks at you daringly with his ruby eyes, and gets touchier. It’s barely ever sudden with him, he eases you into it.

“Katsuki…” you whisper, weak to his touch as he slips his hand under your shirt and straight to your breasts.

“Mm,” he responds, lips already meeting with the soft skin of your neck.

It takes all of you, and you mean all of you, to force the words out of your mouth. You knew you didn’t want to mean it, you’d let him take you as many times as he pleases. But you had to mean it. Because it hurts. Too much.

“I can’t— We can’t do this anymore,” the words fumble a bit, you’re a bit embarrassed and wish you could take it all back.

He freezes altogether, and it scares you.

Bakugou sits back, removing his hand and lips from you before looking in your eyes.

His eyes search your face, lips looking like he’s searching for something to say. You don’t even know what to say.

“I— alright,” he says in a somewhat defeated tone. “Are you okay?”

No.

“Y-yeah, it’s just, weird, you know,” he looks confused at your words but agrees nonetheless. “You’re my best friend and I love you, we just… can’t,”

“No yeah,” is all he says before he sits back in his place on the couch, “I love you, too, I understand,”

You’re scared. His calmness is anxiety driving. Did you really not matter that much? Was the intimacy so easy to let go of? Your heart is breaking, you can feel it. It hurts.

You want to leave, you need to. It’s overwhelming and the silence is drowning. The TV plays in the back but all you hear is silence and all you see is him. It’s too much, you need to-

“Y/N,” you snap your head up at his voice, he’s closer, his hand is reaching out to you, “what’s wrong? You’re crying,”

A rough thumb pad swipes at the tears that had escaped without your knowledge. And the dam breaks.

Bakugou’s eyes widen and he pulls you in to embrace you, “you on your period or what?” He's joking, but you can tell he’s genuinely questioning you as to what the hell happened.

“You, it’s you,” you sob into his chest, and it’s so embarrassing. Shame spreads across your cheeks and body, and you babble nonsense.

“I love you, and it hurts,” you cry, “Fuck, I ruined everything,”

You can’t stop.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki, I ruined it, I ruined us. I was selfish,”

Your mouth is moving on its own.

“I can’t just fuck you and— and be just friends with you, it’s too much,”

You choke on your words, they’re heavy as they come out, fighting against the saliva that builds in your mouth.

“I want you,”

His words startle you. They’re sudden, and cut off whatever else you were about to say. He’s genuine. You can tell by the underlying softness of his voice.

“Are you an idiot? I wouldn’t— fuck,” his grasp around you gets tighter.

“I don’t fuck just anybody,” Bakugou says, “I feel like I’ve told you that,”

“But— that one time-”

“That was my girlfriend at the time, dipshit,”

You sniffle at that, and he realizes you’re still vulnerable.

“Sorry, I just,” he releases you a bit, eyes locked on you, “I love you, have for a while,”

Your jaw drops a bit at that.

“Feelings are just too complicated, you’re too complicated. I didn’t want to break whatever we had, y’know?,” you can tell he’s struggling, “but it became routine, and I was selfish and didn’t want to stop,”

“You’re sappy,”

“Shut it,” he snaps, pinching your side and earning a yelp from you. “Don’t cry, got it? I want you just as much as you want me,”

His thumbs wipe away the stray tears, “you’re such an idiot,”

“No, you are— you’re so mean, saying things you don’t mean to me,” you mutter, eyes meeting his own.

“I’ve never said anything I didn’t mean to you,” he states matter-of-factly. And you realize he’s serious.

You open your mouth to retort, to argue, but he catches you in a kiss before you’re able to. He’s warm and gentle, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel yourself begin to tear up again, it doesn’t hurt anymore. But your heart is relieved and feels as though a heavy weight had been lifted off of it. It feels free.

It’s this time where you’re about to fuck Bakugou Katsuki that you realize it was always going to be him, and perhaps those times were never mistakes after all.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[binniesbooks]

• YOU DON'T WANT HIM TO KNOW, DO YOU?

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4k

pairings brother'sbestfriend!Soobin x fem!reader

warnings lot of curses, mouth to mouth passing of liquid, making out, oral sex, slight somno, degradation, protected sex, pet names, dom!soobin (idk what else did I miss)

faye's note I saw Soobin's ig post last night and the cogs and wheels of my brain started working lmao. But I wasn't able to post it immediately because of power interruption, it sucks. Tsk. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! Oh, btw, fuck Tumblr for messing it up again agh!

You had known Soobin for years now. He was your brother's best friend, the kind of guy who was always around, cracking jokes and lending a hand in whatever task you were working on. Soobin has been the most gentle person you've ever met, or so you thought.

But lately, things have shifted. You found yourself drawn to him in a way that was more than just friendship, a stirring attraction that you couldn’t seem to shake. Soobin is not that dumb to not know and knew how to connect the dots.

From the way you welcomed him even if his best friend was not around, the way you gave him water or food, the gazes he could feel you were throwing at him even if his back was turned to you, the lingering touches you were giving with simple grazes of fingers, the way you changed your hairstyle to a high ponytail, the way you kept on using thin clothes whenever he was around and the way you join them whenever they are playing because you never did these things before.

On your brother's birthday, the three of you had been hanging out in your brother's house. Laughter echoed through the rooms, and the smell of barbecue wafted from the backyard where your brother was busy grilling. The moment felt all too ordinary, yet sparkles of tension crackled between Soobin and you when you found yourselves alone in the living room, the rest of the world felt like it was fading away.

The air thickened with unspoken words as you sat close, the TV flickering in front of you. Soobin was just as aware of the shift, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something more serious.

Your heart raced as your knees brushed against each other, a simple contact that sent electricity coursing through you.“Do you think he’ll be done soon?” you asked, trying to lighten the moment as you rocked yourself back and forth, but your voice trembled slightly.“Who, your brother? He loves taking his time,” Soobin replied with a smirk, but his gaze lingered on your lips for a moment too long.

"I'm done grilling, let's start drinking!" your brother announced as he marched with the container of barbeque in his hand.

The night passed with your brother's blabbering and boasting about things, like how he managed to raise you alone even when it's just the two of you, how he takes care of you and he doesn't want you to be taken by a man who didn't treat you with respect. You throw a few more glances at Soobin who's just sitting across you, and you can tell he's staring at you as well with the simple grins he shows whenever your eyes meet.

Your brother is most likely the kind of guy who can't handle his liquor, Soobin does handle his oddly fine, enough to stay conscious and aware of his surroundings. Aside from the bit of redness on his cheek and ears, you couldn't tell he was tipsy.

"He's out." You muttered as you stared at your brother snoring with his cheek pressed on the table, causing Soobin to snort as he poured the remaining alcohol into his glass. It's almost two in the morning.

"Can you carry him to the couch? I'll grab his blanket and pillows," you said dusting your shorts from anything you have sat on. Soobin just simply nodded.

"Stop staring, you'll end up making a cave in my head." You can feel how he's watching you behind your back as you are tucking your brother to sleep. Giving him pillows for him to sleep comfortably at least.

"Y/n," Soobin called the moment you're done. You replied with a simple "Hmm?" as you started to pick up the bottles, glasses, and plates cluttered around the table.

You turned your head to him when you did not hear him answer. He's sitting on one of the couches across the one you're brother was sleeping on, your eyes meet, the ends of his lips curving up.

"Have you tried drinking?" he asked, swirling the liquor in the glass he was holding. "I haven't. I wanna try though, I'm already beyond my legal age. But this asshole brother of mine does not want me to do so." You pouted as you jokingly raised the bottle you were holding to hit your sleeping brother.

"Your brother does seem to care for you so much." He grins once again, sipping on the alcohol.

"Why, of course. I'm his only family." You say as you sit at the armrest of the couch where your brother sleeps.

"Say, have you broken any of his rules?" he asked, running his hand through his hair. You nodded, causing his plump lips to stretch a bit.

You looked at your sleeping brother, "He used to tell me not to go out at night, but well, sometimes I sneak out, to be with my friends." You chuckled as you bit your lip. "Please don't tell him." You looked back at Soobin again. "Anything else?" He tilted his head to the side, still staring at you. "I...I was told not to be too close or friendly to other guys. He also told me not to like any of his friends because they're total assholes." Your voice slowly becomes faint as you fidget with your fingers.

The clink of glass he picked up on the table made you realize you were straight-out confessing, to one of his friends. You snapped back to him, "I-i mean..." You were out of words as you stared at his mused expression. Scared that he might tell your brother. You're screwed.

"Come here," he motions you to come in front of him. "You don't want me to tell this to him, is that right?" You nodded, embarrassed at what you've said and done. "Only if you do me one thing." He leaned back to the couch he was sitting on, his hand once again running through his hair. "That is...?"

"That is if you break one more damn rule of your brother. For me." He smiled at you, purposely pausing, emphasizing the last two words."I... I'll do it." He feels you're desperate as he watches you ball your fist while he can hear your thumping heart in the dead of night.

"Sit here." He tapped the space beside him as he picked up his glass of alcohol once again, his face painted with pure amusement. Just like being bewitched, you obeyed, sitting beside him.

He places his hand on the space behind you, "Pft, you're so tensed," he snickers. "One more rule, yeah?" He inquired, bringing his face closer to yours. "One..one more. Just one only..." You confirmed voice barely above a whisper.

He sipped on his glass as he held and tilted your face towards his. You breathed, gripping the couch to steady yourself. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Soobin closed the gap between you. You were too stunned to push him away. Hell, you liked it too much you couldn't push him away. He brushed his thumb on your lower lips before pressing his lips on yours, slowly letting the liquid flow out from his mouth to yours. That was it—the final push you needed. Maybe it was the fear you felt that he might tell your brother about your secrets or him being the reason you're breaking the rule, but at that moment, you wanted to break every unspoken rule. You parted your lips, you loved the taste, either his lips or the liquor, you don't know anymore. You place your hand on his chest ultimately clutching on his button-up shirt. His lips danced skillfully on yours, the liquid escaping, dripping to your chin.

He pulled away for a bit to look at you. Only to see you drooling as you look up at him with your hands tightly clutched on his button-up. "More... Please." his smile widened at you begging. "Greedy little girl, aren't you?" You lean unto his hand that is gently caressing your cheek. "Please.." you begged once more. He chugged the remaining liquor in his glass as he held your nape, crashing his lips on yours a little bit harder than last time, his other hand flew up your neck, feeling how you slowly gulped on the liquor mixed with his spit, he gently squeezed your neck, emitting a soft gasp from you as you sightly opened your mouth. He wasted no time shoving his tongue into your throat, practically making the dirtiest and nastiest kiss you've ever experienced.

You rubbed your thighs when he gently pulled at your hair, he's rough yet gentle. He's aggressive but careful. How ironic. You know this is wrong. You're kissing-- no you are making out with one of your brother's best friends, who was sleeping in front of you.

"You like this, don't you?" He taunted as he pulled your hair once more. It takes everything in you to not scream out in pleasure. His lips captured yours once more in a fervent kiss that ignited a wildfire within you. You melted into him, the taste of anticipation on your tongue, the weight of what you were doing fueling the heat of the moment. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself surrender to what was happening. You pressed your body closer to his, your connection growing more urgent. It was reckless, forbidden—everything that made your heart race. You knew the stakes: if your brother found out, you're done. Yet, that thrill, that desire to break one of your brother's rules, is pulling you closer to Soobin.

He pulled you by your hair once again, a string of saliva hanging on both of your lips, you're panting as you snap your head towards your brother. Thankfully, he's still sound asleep. You looked back at Soobin, plump lips red from the pressure and heat of the kiss. He licked his lips, "Such a good girl for me," he chuckled, his hand still on your nape. "Now, come here, we're not done yet." He stood up and grabbed you by your wrist marching towards your bedroom, turning off the light in the living room in the process. Hearts pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins as he locked the door behind.

The moment you two stepped inside your room, your mind immediately processed what would happen. You are in your room with a boy, Soobin. Your brother's best friend. Whom you recently grew interested in. You even made out in the living room with him. He even made sure your door was locked. What makes you think this won't reach the most intimate part? There’s no doubt about it—something significant was bound to happen. Why wouldn't it? Soobin is experienced. You've heard him and your brother talk about it multiple times. How they shared the same girl, how he ended up with a one-night stand with the girl from the bar, how he made his enemy's girlfriend sneak out with him, and many more nasty things they've done.

"Climb up the bed, pumpkin." He's ordering you around again, yet you are following him without restraint. He unbuttoned his shirt as he was staring down at you sitting tensely on the bed, with your hands in between your folded thighs. You were staring up at him, eyes blown, maybe you just can't handle the shots of liquor, or maybe you're eyes were just filled with lust. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair for the nth time today. He climbed up the bed, the black piece of cloth he was wearing long discarded.

With his back pressed on the headboard, he motioned you to move closer to him. "C'mere pumpkin. I won't tell, any of your little secrets to your brother~" his voice clearly mocking you with a sing-song tone. "Can't afford to let you get screwed, anyway." You were sitting between his legs. You can't decline to anything he wants. Aside from you being scared of your brother, deep inside you, you also wanted this. You also want to break the rules just to be with Soobin.

Your eyes ran through his long legs, his dress pants comfortably hugging the lean muscles of his legs. "Your hands are pretty, you're actually creative," he was probably referring to the artworks you've been doing, "I wonder what else these pretty hands can do." He unzipped his pants as he grabbed one of your hands, placing it on his aching bulge. He rubbed himself with your hand, humming at the sensation. His other hand flew to your lips, rubbing your lower lip as he stared at your eyes filled with need. "Soft lips that give tender and sloppy kiss," he muttered, "What else can you kiss better, pumpkin, hm?" He pressed his thumb on your lip.

You scoot closer, moving your hand on its own accord as he lets go of your hand, eyes still looking at him with unfulfilled pleasure. He pushed your head down towards his bulge, "Why not try going down on me, let's see what you can do." You carefully stroke him once more within the confinement of his boxers. "Fuck. Your hands are quite good." He moaned as he gripped your wrist. You pulled his boxers to expose his girthy length. You're not bewitched, you want him. He stroke his exposed cock as he pushed you down a little bit more, making you almost kiss the base of his cock.

Your tongue prodded out, licking the base of his cock as both of your hands were holding to his legs to keep yourself steady. "Shit!" His cock pulsated as he flinched, he was unprepared. He chuckled at your quirks. "Start. Your secrets depend here." He taunted.

Your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock got him reeling. You licked the tip of his cock, it's red and it feels burning. You slowly took him in your mouth as he puffed out muffled moans and grunts. He crossed his arms behind his head, " Wondering how your brother will react if he finds out that this precious little sister of his is doing something very very naughty behind his back." You took him whole in your mouth, gag reflex kicking in. "Fuck angel, you'll be the death of me." He huffed as he tightly closed his eyes. He's restraining himself to hold you, keeping his arms behind his head.

You continuously bobbed your head with your tongue occasionally wrapping around his cock. "You're quite skilled. Have you ever done this? You don't look and act innocent at all." His grin grew wider at the thought. You pulled away, shaking your head.

"N-never... But I f-fantasize over you." You admitted. The smug look on his face becomes heavier as he lets out a mocking laugh. "Look at you acting innocent and all. Yet you have a dirty little mind." The shit-eating grin on his face looks devilish. "My little slut." You tweaked at his words. Embarrassed at where you have put yourself into. "Now don't be shy and show me who you really are, kitten." The pet names he's been calling you, you can't react to it other than getting wet. You wanted to be degraded by him. You've wanted this for so long.

You continued giving him head, " shit, you are so dirty," his light laughs makes your heart flutter, and his degrading words make your pussy clench. He started thrusting carefully in your mouth when you started moaning, the vibrations giving him extra sensation. He holds your head to stay still as he started fucking your mouth, you could tell he does not care about hurting you but his thrust was controlled, holding you as if you'll break easily, just letting the tip of his cock kiss your precious throat. "Delicious. Fucking. Mouth." He grunts at every thrust. He stilled, your mouth overflowing with his white sticky cum.

He gently pulled you on his lap, "Did you just swallow it?" He asked, his stares at you were intense. You simply nodded "I did, am I good?" You were seeking validation amidst the forbidden thing you two have done. A playful smile shined on his face, "More than good, angel." He gently lays you on his chest, and you could feel his heart thumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

"Rest for a while, I'll wake you up before I leave." He said as his long fingers combed your smooth hair, he hugged you tight, pulling your blanket to cover the both of you.

He was in awe, how can you possibly sleep when it's still dangerous around you? He lays you on your bed, registering in his mind how you look. His hand travels around your body, lightly squeezing your neck as you gasp in your sleep. He pushed your shirt above your chest, scoffing at the sight, did you purposely not wear a bra the whole night he was here? He lightly pinches your nipple, rolling his fingers on it, making you squirm. His eyes traveled from your chest to your waist as he hovered above you.

His warm hands enveloped your tiny waist, smiling at how it first perfectly on his huge hand. His hands moved down, gently tugging your shorts off you. "What a little mess we have here." He mumbled, staring at how your panties stuck at your cunt. The baby blue piece of cloth was drenched with your slick. He moves it sideways, prodding his middle finger in your wet pussy. He touched you achingly slow, causing his cock to twitch inside his pants.

His hot tongue finally comes in contact with your cunt. He knows that you'll wake up anytime. "Wake up, pumpkin," he mumbles while lapping on your pussy. You grunt and squirm, feeling the uncomfortably extra wetness in your cunt. Your eyes fluttered open at Soobin eating you out. Your hands immediately clutched your mouth to refrain from being noisy. His tall nose kept on touching your clit, making it more sensitive. You clutched his blond locks, pulling him closer to your cunt as you chase your high.

"I-i'm gonna cum," you whispered, voice muffled as you were almost biting your hand. His two fingers entered you freely, pressing inside, finding your sweet spot. "Let me have a taste of you, kitten," he kept on lapping and pushing his fingers in and out of you, making you shudder and grip his hair tighter as you came on his tongue. Soobin gently sucked on your clit emitting soft whimpers from you.

He hovers above you once again, his veiny hands propped on both sides, his chest rising and falling, toned abs clenching. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, bringing out a condom packet. He wraps his cock in one swift motion, as he prepares at your entrance. He penetrates slowly, grunting at how tight you feel on him, he covers your mouth, "Don't you make a noise-fuck, I'm warning you pumpkin." He stilled inside as you gasped for air, "Stay still, I won't move for a while," he muttered as he kissed your forehead.

The once dark and dead night is almost gone. The bluish color of the sky makes the surroundings a little bit easier to see. You two came to your senses when you heard a knock, then the rattling sound of the door knob. "Fuck!" You shout-whispered, pushing Soobin off of you. He pulled out, both of you immediately wincing at the pain.

"Y/n?" Your brother called you, you panicked as you stood against the door instead of lying down on your bed. "What the hell are you doing there?" Soobin's furrowed as he whispered enough for you to hear.

"Have you seen Soobin?" Your brother asked, you were about to answer when Soobin pinned you on the door.

"Hey, is everything fine? I heard a noise." The rattling sound of your doorknob can be heard once again.

You faked a yawn, "I-i'm good! I just fell from bed! Ouch!" You made your voice as sleepy and hurt as possible but ends up shaky. "You sure? Should I come in?" He asked. "No! No need! I'm fine! I'm good!" You panicked.

"W-what were you asking again?"

"I said if you saw Soobin? Or did he talk to you before leaving or something?"

You gasped when you felt something penetrate you once again.

"Fucking tight, pumpkin." Soobin was gripping your waist, penetrating you from behind. He covered your mouth.

"Y/n?" Your brother knocks again.

Your legs were wobbly, about to give up. "Answer him. But be careful, you don't want him to know, do you?" The grin of mockery is once again plastered on his face. He started thrusting in you. "Shit, what a dirty doll. Likes being taken from the back." He pinned you more on the door, no longer muffling your mouth, making you whine and whimper, you clenched on his cock.

"What the fuck? Are you turned on? Oh fuck, you're really dirty." Soobin whispered in your ear.

"Hey, y/n, if you don't answer I'm gonna break this door open." Your brother's voice is irritated.

"Answer him, doll." Soobin taunted.

"I... I did not see h-him.. mmhhh.. maybe..maybe he had gone h-home." Your voice ends up whiny. "Please s-stop banging the door, i-i'm... I'm gonna sleep some m-more.." you tried your best to answer your brother. Soobin smirked.

"Maybe he did go home, his things are in no sight. Well then, I'll just call him later, rest more, I'll go to my room my head is spinning." You heard the footsteps gone faint. That's when Soobin started thrusting a bit harder on you.

You clawed the door, face pressed on the cold wood. Taking every thrust he's giving you.

"Shit, such a dirty slut." Soobin has been gripping your waist for too long, that you're sure it will leave marks later on. You clenched at his words once again. He scoffed, "Wow, you really love being degraded?" His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing it a little to restrain your lungs from acquiring oxygen. It makes you dizzy. Yet you love it. It makes you dizzy but you want him to cum inside you. It makes you dizzy but you crave for more.

"Good for nothing, cocksleeve." He keeps on pounding into you, bending you on the table near your door. You can't help but clench at his every word as he laughs lowly, enjoying what you two are sharing.

Your knees grew weaker. "Cum on my cock, I know you want it." He taunted. It was your last straw, "S-soobin.." you covered your mouth as you come undone, squirting all over his cock.

He bent down to your ear, licking your earlobe as he kept on pounding chasing his high once more. "Dirty. Fucking dirty. Fantasizing over her brother's best friend. Getting fucked and squirting on their cock." You wanted to cry at his words but it turns you on so much. He pulled out of you, discarding the condom and pumped his cock as he cums on your back.

He turned you around and kissed you, carrying you to the bed as he carefully laid you down. He picked up his discarded button-up shirt and wore it again.

"P-please don't tell him..." You tug at his shirt while he's buttoning it up.

"Your secrets are safe, my pretty slut." He saw how you melt at his words, he heard how you whine at his words. He pulled you for a kiss, a deep and passionate kiss. He removed something on his wrist and kissed your hand. His silver bracelet is now tied to yours, the cold metal kissing your skin makes you remember the heated moment you and Soobin shared.

You watch him peek outside your room as he steps out, tiptoeing to the front door.

@binniesbooks 2024

[enwoso]

SEXIER IN BLACK! — lucy bronze

*something that’s been in my drafts for a few weeks, sorry for the lack of fics but i am writing little bits in between studying but exams are nearly over so should be able to get more done soon<3*

navigation

“black or pink?” you questioned holding up a black satin dress where the straps crossed over the front and in the other some a matching light pink suit. lucy looked up from her phone as she lying on the hotel bed. looking back and forth between the two outfits several times.

you were leaning towards the black dress, it being a while since you had worn a dress or even had the excuse to dress up fancy. so what better excuse than lucy and the lionesses going to an award show. although you weren’t nominated for anything due to spending half the season out with an injury - you still wanted to be there to support lucy and the other girls.

you and lucy went way back and had been friends for a while before any feelings actually came into the picture. knowing of her since you began in england U17s youth teams.

it not being until you were called up to the senior team, and she took you under her wing, lucy having joined a year earlier that you started hanging out more often, until you both confessed your feelings for each other — ever since then the two of you had been inseparable.

the award show was paying tribute to young and upcoming stars both domestically and internationally, the girls being nominated for their work done at the euros. it also being a chance to see new and old faces.

“hmm.. well you do look adorable in pink but-“ your girlfriend pausing, her face deep in thought you could see the cogs moving behind her eyes as she looked between the two outfits still not giving you an answer.

why was the girl so indecisive?

second felt like hours had passed and she was still looking between the two outfits, the clock ticking and you already didn’t have a lot of time to get ready as the two of you decided to have a thirty minute nap which actually was two hours.

“so i’ll just pick the pink then?” you ask, your arms getting sore from holding up the two outfits for so long like some sort of clothes statue.

“no, no!” lucy quickly said as she moved to sit on the side of the bed, “you look cute in the pink but the black.. you just um what the word..” lucy continued, she was dragging it out on purpose now knowing how short of an attention span you had to begin with and how much your hated waiting.

“you look sexier in black” lucy smirks, as your stomach begins to do flips. “so go with the black!” she confirms her answer as you nod satisfied that you had finally gotten an answer from the girl.

“could have just said that in the beginning!” you mumbled, but still loud enough for lucy to hear you as you turned around to move back into the bathroom to get changed.

placing the dress down on the counter as you began to get changed, the black satin dress which hugged your curves just right and for once maybe lucy was right — you did look sexier in black.

not that you would ever admit that to your girlfriend’s face knowing the smug smile you would get if she knew you thought she was right.

the ego of hers did not need to be boosted anymore than it already was on the daily,

fixing the straps to ensure that they sat on your chest in the correct way, feeling a pair of eyes staring you down from the doorway.

moving your head slowly to the direction of the doorway, your eyes were met with lucy as she stood in the doorway a large oversized hoodie which will definitely make its way into your wardrobe later, and some shorts that she always slept in.

little flyaways coming from her bun as her hair was all messy from the nap the two you you had just woken up from but still she managed to look gorgeous, her tattooed arms standing out as she stood with a giant smirk across her face.

“yeah?” you asked wondering she she needed anything as she stood there in her own thoughts, while you began to rummage through your makeup bag for a certain product.

“oh nothin’ just admiring how beautiful my girlfriend is!” lucy smiled as she came and wrapped her arms around your waist her head resting on your shoulder.

“mhm that so?” you mumbled as you began to press makeup into your skin, drawing lines and dots on your face.

“why are you even puttin’ that on your face?” lucy asked, as she focused on you dabbing your face as the product blended into your skin. lucy of course knew the basics about make up but she didn’t wear it a lot — in fact very rarely. the most makeup she wore was mascara other than that her makeup supply was very limited.

“makes me look more put together!” you shrug as she hummed, “you look gorgeous with and without out!” lucy whispered as she placed a gentle kiss to your neck, a grin appearing on your face like a child at christmas.

you carry on with your makeup as lucy does everything in her power to slow the process down by teasing you.

placing sloppy kisses to your sweet spot on your neck, sucking slightly on it every few seconds as you body tried to remain calm, your head had other plans.

“luce, please… you need to go and get ready” you squeaked out. however you weren’t sure if you were wanting her to stop and listen to you or if you were wanting her to carry on kissing you.

your breathing increasing with each kiss she placed on your body. seconds beginning to feel like hours as she removes her hands from your waist, lifting you so you were now sitting on the bathroom counter.

kicking the door shut with her foot, as she placed on hand on your lower thigh and the other moved up to your cheekbone and gently tucks the loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

you swore you could hear her pulse as she brings her lips to yours as you can feel the fire crackle under your skin. the same feeling you get in her tummy as you did when you and lucy had your first kiss appears once again.

if there was one feeling you could have for the rest of your life — this would be it.

you don’t let yourself think about how your going to explain to the rest of your teammates why the two of you are so late.

all you wanted to focus on right now was the way her hands slowly roamed your body, your body feeling flushed just at her touch.

the way her mouth tastes, the way your tongue somehow knows how to follow hers and the way your hands grip her neck to pull her closer into you.

burying your fingers into her hair, tugging gently at it as her hands find their way fumbling with the straps of your dress. feeling the smirk on her face as small whines fell from your lips as she nipped and tugged at your body.

“lucy! y/n!” georgia yells banging on the bathroom door startling both you and lucy as you jump away from each other a the sudden noise. “are yous’ in there” a thick milton keynes accent of leah williamson sung out as they both began to bang on the door at the lack of the answer.

“hang on!” lucy yelled back, while the two of them still banged on the door — probably just to be annoying.

lucy helped you down, smiling as she kissed you one last time before opening the door. both leah and georgia nearly falling over at the sudden moment of the door opening.

“how are the two of you not ready yet?” leah asked as her and georgia stood all dressed and ready while lucy opened her mouth to say something before being cut off by leah pulling a face of disgust, “you know what don’t answer that i don’t wanna know”

“can yous like hurry up, everyone’s waiting and im starvin” georgia complained as you stood their beginning more to wonder how they even got in when neither have a keycard for you door and for a good reason.

"how’d you even get in-" you began.

“okay cool- also lucy you’ve got lipstick on your face!” georgia cut you off before you even had a chance to get your sentence out, directing the last part to lucy as she pointed to your girlfriend. before the two left giggling, quickly leaving your room.

“do i really have lipstick on ma face?” lucy asked turning to you as you smile to yourself reaching to rub it off with your thumb.

“darling you need to get better at puttin’ makeup on!” lucy cheekily says as she watched you fix up your own lipstick.

“and someone needs to learn to keep their hands to their self!” you sass as a gasp comes from your girlfriend as your quick remark.

“don’t wear that dress next time.” lucy mumbled as you stood dumbfounded as she was literally the one who told you to wear the black dress.

“go and get ready, we’re already late!” you smile at lucy hitting her slightly in the shoulder as you pushed her out the bathroom.

[thelittlestoflives]

Unravelling the Mystery

a wee Sanji x Strawhat!reader from the perspective of our favourite archeologist! it’s so self indulgent lol but i just love these lil pirates so much!! my first time writing for one piece too!!

barely proofread or formatted forgive me pls!!!!

no warnings, just fluff, use of YN but gender neutral as much as possible

wc: 1k

Robin loved a mystery.

Whether it be a novel, an ancient archaeological site, or even the small cartoon strip in the newspaper that Nami got delivered every so often, she was all over it, the cogs in her brain whirred like a woman possessed to solve it.

Her newest obsession was the mystery of where her fellow crewmate was going when everyone else was asleep. Every night, she would hear the door creak and their gentle footsteps on the floorboards.

Sleepwalking?

No. It seemed too calculated for that. And if it were sleepwalking, how would that explain the way that they managed to always be in their bed in the morning?

Robin knew in her gut that there was something else happening here, and she was determined to find out what. Not by asking, of course. She would find out in her own special Robin way, by following YN as they left the room, and then staying awake all night to see when they returned. Simple enough really.

That night, she laid with her back to YN, breathing steadily to imitate someone who was dead asleep. Nami’s breaths had evened out too, and like clockwork Robin heard the familiar creak of the floorboards and the door carefully being pried open.

She waited a few seconds before getting up and creeping out of their room.

YN tiptoed ahead of her, bare feet not making a sound on the floor, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Robin felt in her element as she sneaked behind her crew mate, only a slight pang of guilt in her stomach. Her curiosity overrode that particular emotion.

YN turned left, towards the boys’ room.

With precision, they opened the door slowly, and then shut it behind them without a sound.

Ah. Of course. They're sneaking in to see someone. But who?

Robin’s brain raced with possibilities. Was it the stoic swordsman? Their silly captain? The flirty chef? She went back to her bed, puzzling over each outcome.

When Robin opened her eyes, sunlight streamed onto her face and she was hit with a feeling that she forgot something. She rolled over and saw Nami and YN sound asleep in their respective beds.

Dammit! She fell asleep before she could see YN coming back to bed. Tonight, she would do it. The day could be used to gather some more clues.

At breakfast, she watched YN for any signs of lingering gazes or prolonged touches with any of the other crew mates.

Unfortunately for her she was in the middle of an intense discussion with Usopp and Luffy, trying to explain why their Captain physically couldn’t eat so much that he would actually explode, and missed exactly the telltale signs she was looking for. Hands brushing, a slight blush of the cheeks, eyes meeting with a knowing glint.

The rest of the day proved ineffective for clue gathering, and now asking YN outright seemed almost like admitting to failure, by not being able to solve this mystery. And that simply wouldn’t do. Tonight she would put an end to this and find out to settle her questioning mind.

Again, she feigned sleep and waited for those creaking floorboards. Once she felt like enough time had passed for YN to settle into whoever’s bed it was they were creeping in to, Robin rose from her sheets and moved towards the male quarters.

She imitated the way YN had opened the door, carefully and noiselessly. She stuck her head through the gap and scanned the swinging hammocks for any signs of her friend tangled up with someone. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of, well, men, she willed her eyes to adjust to the dark whilst internally cursing. She couldn’t see anything! This was beginning to frustrate her. Why couldn’t she solve this seemingly simple mystery? She sighed softly, closing the door and stepping back into the hallway.

She made herself a coffee and sipped it while deep in thought. She would just have to stay awake and see if she could spot YN heading back to bed.

She lay in bed reading her book, so lost in the words that she didn’t realise that it was almost sunrise. The footsteps outside the door startled her and she blew out the candle she was using to read and pretended to sleep once more.

The door pushed open, and she stared intently through half shut eyes.

A familiar blonde head stepped into the room, with a sleepy YN cradled in his arms.

Aha! So it was the damn chef after all.

He laid them down impossibly gently, tucking the duvet around them. He knelt down beside their head, and they exchanged some mumbling words before he pressed a tender kiss to YN’s forehead. Their hands were still tangled as he stood to walk away, and he kissed their knuckles so softly that Robin felt a small jolt in her heart. Sanji left the room to prepare breakfast for the crew, and YN was already back asleep.

She suppressed a smile. The thought of her friend creeping into his arms every night, so soft, so tender, so loving, and him gently cradling their body to his every morning before he started work, tucking them in, was so overwhelmingly endearing she could cry. Now she knew why her friend was keeping it a secret, for now at least. However, she was surprised that the lovesick chef was able to keep something like this to himself, but you didn’t need to be as perceptive as Robin is to see how special and genuine this relationship was. They belonged entirely to each other and were secluded in their small bubble of secrecy. She wasn't going to be the one to pop it for them.

And after all, she got what she wanted.

She solved the mystery.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny/Wally, blue, mint

@Luckeykasper

WC: 547

Depending on who and when you asked someone, the Speed Force and Clockwork could be many things to each other: friends, enemies, lovers, brothers, each other, or the very same person. They were both, after all, masters of Time and that had to bring some sort of a connection. On the other hand, they both handled Time very differently from each other which more often brought conflict. Throughout all of their different labels and ever shifting moods one thing was true: the Speed Force and Clockwork were gossiping old biddies about everything and everyone that ever was or would be.

(And, if occasionally, they came together in way that no mortal mind could ever comprehend, well, then that was their business and no one else’s.)

The gossiping old biddies part is what was important in that moment. Not to most people, of course. Most people didn’t have the constitution to be aware of temporal fluctuations, and, even if they had, the current wibbliness of time really only mattered to two people: one Wally West and one Daniel Fenton. Or by other names which might matter more at the moment: Kid Flash and Phantom, the Speed Force’s chosen and Clockwork’s cog, and, most importantly, beloved pseudo-grandsons.

It’s just, the Speed Force sighed, or came as close as a cosmic entity could manage to a sigh, Wally keeps falling instantly for people that he knows are unattainable.

They sounded young right then, like a dramatic teen, and Clockwork unconsciously shifted his form to match. “If they’re unattainable, why does he fall for them?”

Because they’re unattainable. I think he’s afraid to fall for someone he could have because… because of me.

Clockwork snorted. “Isn’t that a bit egotistical?”

The space around them sparked with static. No!

“Really?”

Really! He’s afraid because of what I’ve given him! He’s not simple a person anymore— he’s a cosmic force! The static faded to a sad sputtering and then stopped. All of existence seemed to drag around them. And how often is he going to run into someone who handle that? He’s afraid of trying, my poor boy…

Clockwork nodded in commiseration. His form aged and shifted until he floated hunched over himself. “I see. Danny has become like that as his power has grown. He has pulled away from the living and dead a like. I have concerns about his bonds if it continues.”

The Speed Force jolted, reality spinning in a sudden whirl. That’s it!

“Stop that,” Clockwork ordered, wrenching things back into control with a firm hand. “What are you on about? What silly idea do you have now?”

Danny is cosmic.

“Yes,” Clockwork agreed dryly.

Wally needs someone who understands cosmic! Danny needs someone who has strong ties to the world! Wally’s whole self is saving the world. It’s perfect.

Clockwork actually took a moment to consider the thought.

You know I’m right.

“You’re never right.”

Bitch.

“But,” Clockwork said slowly. The Speed Force buzzed in anticipation. “This might at least be worth a try.”

I told you!

“They can’t suspect it’s a set up though,” Clockwork admonished quickly.

Of course not, too damn stubborn. But… it wouldn’t be too hard to make their paths cross, now would it?

“No,” Clockwork grinned. “No I don’t think that it would.”

---

AN: Okay, so we didn't actually get to Danny/Wally but this idea got in my head and lol. Idk maybe I'll continue this one at some point down the road!

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (10/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“Betas, as we all know make up the main bulk of our world,” A circle is drawn around the ‘β’ sign, chalk flaking off as it taps against the blackboard. “But what about Omegas? Does anyone remember what the sign for it looks like?”

Silence. The lead of a pencil cracks when it’s unceremoniously dropped onto the floor, inciting the complaints of students that wanted to do anything but study.

“Amachi-sensei! Please don’t give us another surprise quiz…!” A student whose name escapes your mind sounds out, their hand raised into the air and a pout on their cheeks.

(You’re not really that close with any of your other classmates. Not even acquainted enough to remember their names…)

“Oh my, if you’re asking me like that I really don’t mind making one for all of you right now.” She huffs as she crosses her arms, shaking her head at the room full of her own students.

“Students must be prepared for anything, you know? A quick reminder doesn’t hurt!”

A collective groan and whines of complaints form a chorus of exasperated children.

“Always so excitable, aren’t you, kids?” Her tone is stale as her flats click against polished wooden floors, standing before the class as she adjusts her glasses. “But I’m reviewing this topic again for your sakes! This is your final year as an elementary student and now that you’re all 12,”

A clap of her hands together as she smiles, the apples of her cheeks blushed pink and the mole by her lip stretching out with her expression.

“It’s the year you present your secondary genders! I’m sure you’re all quite excited, are you not?”

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t quite catch any of that. Not one word managed to float into your attentive ears as Suguru flips through your textbook in your stead, inconspicuously making sure that it looked like you were at least following along.

You would be, if you weren’t so distracted.

“Today’s curse is cute too.” It really is. With flappy wings that looked too small for its body, a smooth, round and squishy body with wide, wide eyes that barely blinked—And the way it kept making little ‘chu!’ noises as it floated all around you. “It looks all blobby and chubby.”

(It’s a real wonder how it even flies. Maybe the laws of gravity don’t apply to cursed spirits.)

“You like it, right? I caught it just cause I thought you might.”

“Mhm. I like all the cute looking ones.”

Because Geto Suguru was one of those ‘cursed energy’ users, and Gojo Satoru had deemed him ‘capable’ enough, given what he had claimed to see through those pretty eyes of his that you’re too familiar with.

“Suguru’s different!” He’s huffing at you as he pokes at your cheek, jabbing the pads of his fingers into them as your head steams with all the information he had just dumped onto you in one fell swoop.

“He’s born with a technique and stuff. Real potential and everythin’.”

(Technique… The thing that people are born with and are supposedly meant to gain better control of as they grow older.)

“Bwut yuuu sfaid—“ He finally releases you. “Shoko doesn’t have a technique either…?” Or did you hear wrong? Was she able to officially learn this ‘Jujutsu’ because she did in fact have one? Or is she just special like Satoru because she’s rich too? Your head is really starting to feels like it was desperately trying to work cogs that haven’t been oiled in far too long.

It’s just not clicking.

“She’s different cause she’s like…” His eyes squint at you as your cheeks go back to being abused by hands that took too much interest in them. “Like a Band-Aid in Digimon.”

“But like a really, really weak Band-Aid and stuff. So she’s not a cure all like a Medicine. If ya go crazy in the head she can’t help.” You can see his grin grow all the more when he pulls at your cheeks and squishes them together.

“Hmph! Now she’s not as cool as ya thought, right?” He’s back to that proud smugness in his expression, eyes sparkly and so full of pride. “I still got the best one out of all of ‘em!”

(“So… She’s a like a Hyper Potion in Pokemon?” Just to put it in terms you understand better, anyway. Digimon’s tough.

“Hyper Potion’s too powerful. Treat ‘er like one of those super useless small purple ones that barely heal anything.”

“Those are supposed to only be good early game, though.”)

“Remember to ask your parents to sign your acknowledgment form for the checkup! Did everyone receive a copy?”

“Yes, Amachi-sensei!”

“Then class is dismissed— Don’t forget!”

It looks like Satoru wasn’t coming today either, it seems. Not even when third period rolled about and you were huddled up next to Shoko’s side as her head leans against your shoulder under the shade of the tree in the school courtyard, chatter in your ears and a yawn escaping your mouth.

(You think he must be really busy with his particular rich people stuff. You hope he’s at least eating well.)

Physical education was never your most favourite of classes. Partly because you just couldn’t seem to be good at anything that had to do with sports, and mostly because of all the sweat.

(And also, they separate the boys and girls. At least Suguru’s having fun playing basketball.)

“You have a pretty bad sense of smell, (last name)-chan! Maybe you’ll be a Beta?” Hayashi Yume is one of the few names that you actually do remember. A loud personality and openness to talking to everybody making it a breeze for her to get along with absolutely anyone.

Even you.

(When Gojo Satoru isn’t around, anyway. Suguru seems to think of her of a friend. Shoko too.)

There’s no fighting the most popular topic amongst the final year elementary students. No helping in the fact that this was all on each and everyone’s minds… But you just can’t really bring yourself to care.

“…what do you wanna be, Hayashi-san?” Just to change the topic away from you, away from this sudden spotlight that you don’t want. It was hard making a choice on this already… You don’t want to be ambiguous about it all over again should you be swayed.

“Oh, oh! I wanna be an Alpha, of course!” She gushes and squeals, hands on her cheeks and face alight with a blush so adorned with excitement. “My mother says it’s a one-way ticket to being successful in life! That’s why all the lead roles in movies are always played by ‘em!”

“Ehhh? But that’s just movies, though. Ya wanna be an actor or something?” Nishikawa Emi— You think. Hayashi-san’s best friend and possibly one of the few people in this school willing to talk to you despite your social circle.

You like her. She does the talking for you when you don’t know how to carry on— And you really like her nose bridge because it reminds you of your Saya-chan.

“N-No—“ A sigh, and crossed arms that finally loosen. “Fine, y-yea! I wanna be a famous movie star one day!”

(Hayashi Yume is really easy to read.)

“Pfft—“

“Stop laughing, Emi-tan!”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather be an Omega.” Nishikawa Emi nods to herself, her head tilted to the side, strong gaze flickering from her best friend to you and Shoko as her arms cross. “They got it really easy, no? Look pretty and they got any Alpha or Beta wrapped around their finger.”

“Eh…? Emi-tan, I thought fair-o-mones only affected Alphas and Omegas…?” Yume scratches at her head, her expression in clear confusion as she tries to recall the lesson they just had— Social Studies was always so difficult for no reason.

“Omegas are pretty enough to charm anyone, duh. My sister gave me a magazine and it was just full of pretty Omegas, and not even one of ‘em was ugly, so it’s gotta be true.”

“Huh…? Really…?”

(“(last name)-chan agrees.”

You think Nishikawa is right. Your Mama is super, duper, extremely heart-stoppingly beautiful. The prettiest around, even your Saya-tan would pale in comparison, and the old couple that lives across your home agree whenever you pop yourself through their gate to get the snacks they keep offering you.

“Mhm.”)

Only two out of three were mentioned to be positive. This must be what Amachi-sensei must have been talking about when she was going on about how there was a ‘bias’ and that ‘people don’t think everything can be equal’.

(Kinda makes sense now, you guess. But you’ll still keep true to your Beta favouritism. What’s so bad about being the most common? You would be able to fit in with lots and lots of people. Common interests save relationships! According to the daily advice channel, anyway.)

“Shoko, what do you wanna be?” It’s whispered and soft— Mindful of how she was quietly snoozing away on your shoulder as you feel her shift, hear her breaths shorten and her see her eyelashes flutter.

“Dunno…” She replies with a tone sluggish and tired, yet somehow able to perfectly comprehend your question. So she was listening despite being asleep. “Everything sounds like a pain to deal with. Don’t wanna choose…” And she’s back into dreamland.

An ambiguous answer.

“Ehhh? Ieiri-chan,” Yume shakes the sleepy girl’s shoulder. “You gotta at least like— Aaah!”

Maybe it’s your weird sense of heroism, the odd feeling of responsibility that came with being the person you are that you’re lunging towards the classmate that you didn’t know all that well, forcing her head down before the basketball could make direct impact with her face.

At the very least, you hope you don’t get a nosebleed. Please don’t let the hit be too hard, please don’t let it break your nose and require you to have emergency surgery like in that one movie Geto-papa played for everyone because Geto-mama didn’t allow you all to watch that one horror movie—!

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth clenched and jaw tightened. Please, please please please please…!

And— Nothing. Just air in your face, a breeze in your ears and the familiar, panicked sound of a ‘chu!’ as you hear something akin to a spring bouncing. The basketball rebounds off of the poor curse, making it take the brunt of the impact and a surprised squeak escaping it—

Before you watch it get recalled back.

Suguru.

“Ahh! Sorry, sorry! We didn’t mean ta let the ball get so far out of court!” You hear the stampede of feet, the smell of sweat and the feeling of your heartbeat trying to recover from all that adrenaline. “You girls al’right?”

“(last name)-chan almost got hit in the face saving me! Do you boys have no manners at all?!” It’s Hayashi that’s clinging onto you, her arms around your neck as her eyes are teary and her nose was starting to run— A clear show of how touched she was by your actions, before she’s standing up to match the boy’s height to ensue an argument.

(She was always the overdramatic kind. But it works out for you ‘cause heroes always love a good damsel in distress.)

“I said I was sorry!”

“You can’t even keep a single ball in court! What would’ve happened if (last name)-chan wasn’t here and Emi-tan didn’t catch Ieiri-chan?!”

(Mama did once say that people who argue like an old couple may get married one day. Best of wishes to Hayashi-san and… The boy that you can’t seem to remember the name of.)

“You didn’t get hit, right?” A hand settles on your head from above, before helping you to stand up from your tumbled position on the ground. Your eyes flicker up to meet droplets of purple reflecting spots of sunlight, noir hair hastily tied into a miniature ponytail and strands blowing in the wind, whilst the sweat on his furrowed brow was frowned into a panic.

He’s patting your face, your hair, cheeks, eyes, nose— “I’m just checking for bumps. You sure you didn’t get hit?”

“Mn.” You have to assure him as you take out your handkerchief from your pocket, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead and trying to soften the deep furrow. “Of course I didn’t. You’re the one who saved me.”

And you have full trust in him, no matter what. Shouldn’t that be expected? Suguru’s the coolest person you know.

(And Ieiri Shoko remains asleep, even when Suguru is checking you over once more and had to begrudgingly leave with the rest of the boys whilst muttering something under his breath— With the ball tightly clenched in his hands.

Shoko’s now snoozing on Nishikawa’s shoulder as she stays deep within her dream… That drama she was talking about must’ve been really nice.

“Wow… Ieiri-chan must be really tired.”

“…she was studying really hard for the math quiz all night.” Anything to save your dear Shoko’s reputation.

“What?! We have a math quiz?!”

Suguru’s team won the match, by the way. You saw a lot of the opposing team members practically drag themselves to class with bruised faces and sore arms.)

——

“Remember,” Her hand smooths down the messy strands of your bed head, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth and your eyes groggily blinking at your blurry reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“I’ll love you no matter what you are, okay?” The hairbrush gently combs through locks of your hair, her breathing soft yet just that little bit breathless.

You don’t need much to discern that she was nervous, don’t need superpowers to be able to tell that your Mama was scared. The slightest tremble in her hands, the way she was picking at every strand of your hair that was seemingly ‘out of place’.

But you don’t— Won’t share the same sentiments. Because you don’t care much for this kind of thing. It’s just like taking a test, right?

One that you can’t study for or any of your friends to tutor you for, but still a test all the same.

“It doesn’t matter which one you turn out to be. You’re still you no matter which one, and that won’t change.” A minty exhale accompanied by her very evident stress, her hands fussing over every strand of your already very brushed out hair.

(Was it bad that you didn’t think this was that big of a deal?)

“Mhm…” You’re awake enough to know not to talk with your mouth foaming with toothpaste, awake enough to be aware of how there was just something in the air that had your Mama acting like this today.

(Maybe it’s one of those Heat things you heard Amachi-sensei go through a few weeks ago. Now you wish you paid more attention instead of playing with Suguru’s curses…)

Your eyes meet hers in the foggy mirror of your bathroom; her hair is only slightly messed up, her face ever so pretty, yet so worried as she bites her lip and hugs you close.

“I’ll bwe fwine, Mwama.” (“I’ll be fine, Mama.”) You know better, yet you just can’t help but want to comfort her right now— Even if it’s spat out through a mouthful of minty toothpaste foam and a toothbrush that nearly drops out of your mouth.

“Iiiee profwise.” (“I promise.”)

And that was that. Though, you can still feel her slight uneasiness even when she smiles at your attempt of tying your own shoelaces, can feel that the air just hasn’t settled into the usual calmness that you were used to even when you waved her goodbye at the gate.

(You hope it all goes well today. If not for you, then for your Mama. At the very least, just for her.)

“Satoru.” You smile, a hand going up to wave as you climb into the unassuming, yet extremely fancy vehicle waiting just outside your home.

“Good morning.”

It was like clockwork. Backpack onto the carpeted floors of the car, a moment to catch your breath and your hand reaching towards a head of fluffy white to pat—

Your wrist gets caught.

“Hmph.” He looks pouty, irritated. Like he was going to erupt into a tirade of angry rambling and start comparing you to the ugliest Digimons that he knew of.

“Why’d ya always do that? I-I’m not a kid, ya know?!”

Why? Because you’ve been doing it since… Forever, you guess. He’s never stopped you before, never stopped you until now. So why? Was it the change in the air today? The odd pressure in the atmosphere? It should be obvious, all because he’s—

“Because you’re cute, Satoru.”

He doesn’t look satisfied with that reply. Not at all, especially when he narrows his eyes at you into a glare.

(Cute.)

“What, like a puppy or somethin’? Ya making fun of me?”

“No.” You shake your head, watch as his fingers tighten themselves ever so slightly against your wrist. That’s definitely not how you see him at all, not at all what you feel when you look at him, no matter how cute he was. “That’s not it.”

“Then what?” He had a huff to his tone, irritation and exasperation as he pulls on your hand and forces you to lean closer towards him— To meet his awaiting blue glare.

“Because… I like you too much?”

Silence follows. The air changes, and you catch the shoulders of the nameless driver that usually never said much stiffening—

Did you say something wrong? Something that offended him? You… Didn’t, right? You’ve always called him cute, and he’s always been fine with it. With reddened tips of his ears and eyes that looked like they were gonna bulge out of his head as he covered his face with an angry swing of his arm—

“T-Then I don’t wanna be cute!”

Oh. That’s… Kinda sad. Is it because he doesn’t like you back? That can’t be it, can it? You’ve both been friends since 4, he can’t possibly say that he hated you for all that time, could he?

(But even if he did, you think you’d be at peace to know that he did used to like you. That would be enough.)

“Why not…?” You don’t have a mirror right now, but you’re pretty sure you just can’t help the look of deposed, kicked puppy look in your eyes as you frown. “Satoru, do you not like me…? Did I do something wrong—“

“C-Cute doesn’t mean super attractive! And n-nobody likes to be called that! Hmph!” And he turns away, his hand splayed out on your face and effectively blacking out your vision as he makes sure to keep this distance between you and him.

(So… It was an insult? Have you been insulting your dear Satoru all this time?)

“Sorry, Satoru…”

“Stop apologizing, you stupid dummy!”

“Sorry.”

“Times are always changing, isn’t that right, Saya-san?”

“Indeed, Mr. Reporter! It’s speculated that because of the shift of the moon into its next lunar phase, everyone will be experiencing a change in their life to come.” Her hands wave around, her smile ever so blindingly adorable as you stare up at her pretty face upon the television screen.

Her fingers delicately make a heart, a charming, moe-filled wink towards the camera as you nearly feel your heart stop. “So always expect change, even if it’s ambiguous! You never know if it can be a blessing or a curse if you don’t go and experience it for yourself!”

Maybe change can be a good thing too, if your Saya-tan embraces it.

(“Good… ‘orning…” Geto Suguru was never an early riser. Not even on a day as ‘important’ as this was as he groggily drags himself into the car.

“Suguru.” A turn of your head towards the boy as you shift further inside to make room for him, pressing shoulder to shoulder with your white haired friend as he continues the little ramble about a boss he was fighting. “You look handsome today.”

“Wha—“ And his purple eyes are now blown wide, cheeks growing warm and red splashing onto his face as he freezes midway through— Nearly falling back had it not been for Kimiko-san supporting him from behind. “What— Wha?”

“Hey—! That’s reserved just for me! Don’t go calling Weird Bangs that too!”)

——

“(last name)-san, right?” Her eyes scan over the your sheet of paper as you tiptoe over the counter to meet eyes with the nurse lady.

(You also think it’s funny she’s referring to you in such a formal way despite being so much older than you.)

It’s unfortunate that you had to be separated from your friends… Even Shoko had to wave you goodbye as she was taken away by a personal doctor, whilst you were whisked away and separated from the other girls after brief height and weight measurements.

“No abnormalities in the past few months, correct?”

“Mn.” Not that you know of, anyway. Mama usually answers these types of questions for you at the doctor.

So it is kinda weird answering for yourself. On your tiptoes and with your eyes barely making it over the oddly tall counter. You swore your Mama told you that you’ve been growing a lot lately.

“Please proceed behind the curtain.”

And you did, poking your head in to check for enemies hiding in a corner only to meet with a smiling lady. With a cool lab coat and the— Setho-something scope. Heartbeat reader thingy.

(You know because you saw an episode of Saya-chan roleplaying as a doctor once for a special episode of her zodiac sign forecast. Just because you’re 12, doesn’t mean you need to know the names of everything yet.)

“Hello there.” Her smile is kind. Soft and gentle… And makes you less scared of the fact that she’s a stranger as you slowly, shyly step into the makeshift ‘room’ surrounded by curtains.

“…hi.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” A hand over her mouth as she tries to stifle her laughter and the crow’s feet around her eyes making themselves all the more prominent as you… Relax slightly.

“Ho… Mura-sensei,” You think that’s what the name tag says as you sit down on the very soft, very plush seat. “Am I a Beta?”

(You need to check the brand for this chair. Maybe Satoru will buy it and let you have one of the old, weirdly comfortable chairs he’s got at his house. Mama has been pretending that her back doesn’t hurt lately.)

“Hm.” Her eyes trail over to her computer, before flickering back down to you with an amused chuckle. “Straight to the point, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You wanna get out and get done. Then, you, Shoko, Suguru and Satoru are all gonna gather, open up the little envelope they give you with your assigned secondary genders, look at it and be done forever.

(Because nothing will change between all of you no matter what.)

“Smell this.”

And you do, bringing that little tin up to your nose and taking a big, big whiff of— Some sort of powdery substance inside?

“Powder…?”

The next didn’t seem to be any different, more of that stuff that smelled like nothing no matter how many big whiffs you took and exhaled out.

(Maybe it was some odd test for your nose. You hope you didn’t fail.)

“Form a fist with your hand and show me the underside of your arm, please.”

“…does the needle hurt?”

“Mm…” She thinks for a little bit, as if debating on the question that you gave her as she adjusts the thin needle. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but only for a little bit.”

Well… Good. At least she isn’t lying to you. You don’t like liars. Liars would be like that doctor your Mama called an ‘old coot’ once because he ‘didn’t know what he was doing’ as she carried you out of his examination room.

“I’ll give you a lollipop afterwards.”

“Deal.”

(It did hurt. Kinda. You definitely think it did. Your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly during the process so you don’t even know if it went in or not.)

“It seems that your question has to be undetermined today, (last name)-san.” Her right hand fingers tap against the keyboard as she types sentence after sentence, left hand penning up a messy string of words that you blink at least 3 times at— Before giving up.

“You’ll be receiving your results a little later than everyone else.”

——

“It’s rare.” Eyes trail over another sheet of paper filled with too many hard words and numbers. “But not out of the ordinary. It just means she needs to take extra precautions.”

“What about medication? Is there anything that can be prescribed? It’s dangerous for—“

“(last name)-san. I understand your concerns as a mother, but there is little I can do when your daughter is unable to differentiate the primary scents.”

Middle school is when things get serious, they say. Exams, social lives, more exams, club activities, even more exams… And the high school entrance exams that will determine where you’ll go.

(You don’t even know who ‘they’ are. Who are ‘they’ even to say that? You don’t agree. Mama always tells you that you should enjoy being in the present, no matter how old you get.)

“It’s okay.” She pats your head as you both walk out of the stuffy doctor’s room, her words breathy and clearly stressed. “You’ll be the same as you are now…”

“Mama just needs you to take some medicine everyday from now on, okay?”

But, the first week of middle school is probably the first time that you realize… Geto Suguru is extremely popular.

“Geto-kun! Do you mind teaching me this part?”

“Geto-san~ Ame-chan and I are gonna go to the movies later! Do you want to—“

“Oi! Geto! Come join the Kendo club! Coach said he’s heard about you in elementary!”

More so than the white-haired counterpart that you’re pretty sure even the most grumpy, most abstinent of people would find attractive.

(Mama says it’s because looks can sometimes make up for a lot of brash personalities.)

“U-Um— Gojo-san, if you don’t mind, you can eat some of my bento…!” She’s bowing, shaky hands presenting her cutely wrapped lunchbox as she keeps her shy gaze towards the floor. “I-It would be an honour for you to eat it…!”

Awkward silence and Gojo Satoru staring down your poor classmate with eyes that shone with an extremely proud, azure twinkle.

“Heh.” There’s a pleased, shit-eating grin on his face and barely held back disgust in those pretty eyes of his that flickered to and fro from Suguru to the girl still standing before him. “An honour for you, huh?”

(As if he was trying to show off.)

“But you’re not suggesting that I should be eating that trash in your hands, right?”

(So, it was then that you realize it’s not just your Suguru’s handsome looks that made him so popular with the girls.)

“Satoru.” Suguru’s hand gently dabs a handkerchief against the snowy-haired boy’s face, pressing the soft cloth against his skin and imploring the boy to clear his nostrils lest he somehow infect the rest of you with his germs.

“Your nose is leaking.”

“It’s that damn dusty ass classroom’s fault! How the hell do you both withstand that place?” He sniffles before blowing his nose, pressing the cloth embroidered with Suguru’s initials against his face to wipe up his snot.

“If you knew you should’ve wiped it up sooner. You trying to be the grossest kid in school or something? Tired of being the perfect golden boy?”

“Cry about it and use those ugly bangs of yours to wipe your tears.”

They get along well now. As well as… Getting into spats about games, the weather, why the takoyaki stall you all frequent suddenly used a different brand of bonito flakes, how the inclination of the umbrella Satoru threw did not purposely hit that poor student, why there were badly drawn doodles of Suguru’s face everytime he lent his notes to the both of you— Seriously, how was it possible that they could argue about anything and everything?

It was like a talent in itself. One that you have taken as an everyday occurrence as you chew on another spoonful of rice and enjoy the peace of eating lunch together on the school rooftop.

(You’re pretty sure you’re not allowed up here, but you’re also pretty sure the Gojo family pulled some strings again. Must be nice being rich and powerful.)

He leans in, quickly stealing the bit of food from your chopsticks as you stare on in confusion.

Eh?

“…?” With your head tilted to the side and blinking at him 3 whole times to really make sure.

“What.”

“I thought you didn’t like commoner food?” Especially yours that you and your Mama had made together last night. It’s exciting to be able to bring your own lunch to school once every month. It’s kind of like having the sports festival you used to have in elementary.

Just without the sports.

“Don’t feed him. Let him starve because he forgot to bring his own food today.” Suguru retorts with a huff, stuffing another riceball into his mouth as he angrily chews— Despite the fact that Satoru literally had half a riceball that definitely did not belong to him in his hands.

(It’s nice that they’re nice to each other.

“Hey! If y’er gonna punish me for forgetting, at least remind me with a call or something!”

“No way. You’re just gonna complain that I interrupted you whilst you were in the middle of eating an entire jar of sprinkles.”

“Satoru, is the meatball any good? Kimiko-san gave the recipe to my Mama only recently so we didn’t have much time to practice.”)

“Oh yea!” Rice is on the corner of his lip as he talks through a full mouth. “Kimi-chan says ya need to eat y’er medicine afterwards too or whatever.”

“(name)-sama.” Her slender, calloused hands are gentle as they lift up and off of your face, revealing the 3rd eye on her forehead blinking down at you as you stare back in awe.

(Cursed techniques can be so cool looking.)

“It’s simply a case of equivalent exchange.” The sparkling iris of her eye studies you intensely, staring so vividly into you that it felt like it was peeling back layers of your skin and boring deep into your flesh.

“It looks to me like your body had exchanged your strongest sense in favour of being able to house your current amount of cursed energy…” She sucks in a breath as her face starts to turn blue, her hands turning pale before her special eye disappears— And her face returns to normalcy.

“So your current senses are now akin to a Beta despite your genetic makeup.”

“Satoru’s right, for once.” Suguru’s reaching into his pocket, pulling out a little notepad with specific timings written down. “You gotta take your medicine on time.”

But it tastes really bad—

“I’ll be upset if you don’t.”

And your shoulders slump in defeat just as Satoru takes hold of your chopsticks, stuffing a meatball into your mouth before plopping one into his own.

“Yea, Suguru’s got a point. It’s tough bein’ what you are and stuff, ya know? Even worse if you can’t even feel how ya affect the area.” He swallows. “It’s like putting up a barrier against ya ownself while everyone else already knows what’s going on.”

And you just have to wither on the bench in defeat, back against the wall and letting out a sigh as Gojo continues to help himself to your lunch.

“But Shoko’s got it easy, though…”

“Ieiri?” Suguru’s shoulder brushes against yours as he leans back to stare up at the same sky as you. “That’s cause she’s a Beta. She’s can’t be affected or affect anyone with pheromones.”

Sigh. It must be nice to be like that.

“I wish I was a real Beta.”

“So? What is it?” Satoru’s splayed out on your futon as he stretches his limbs, his backpack hastily thrown to your floor as Suguru watches you hold the letter in your hand.

“You nervous?”

A little bit.

“I’ll open it if you don’t want to.” Shoko pipes up from your side as she peeks over your shoulder at the still unopened letter. “I’ll even read it out loud from the start and stuff.”

“Don’t give it to ‘er. She’s gonna skip out on the important bit accidentally and not realize it cause she can’t read as good as me.”

Just do it, right? You’re going to have to tell your Mama sooner or later when she comes home. So you ignore the light chatter throughout your bedroom, hold your breath as you tear through the envelope and slowly read—

Ah.

*Your child has presented as an Omega.

*As this result came with abnormal observations with your child, (name) (last name), we invite you to make an appointment with Dr. Homura for further evaluation at your earliest discretion.

previous masterlist next

nvy’s aftertalk;

sch has started again for me so i won’t be able to keep to the semi-regular schedule i’ve been updating this 🙂‍↕️

i’ll try to get my wedding fic up if possible if ykw that is and some other stuff too 😭

[anjasitdown]

I knew something was UP when the only film that helped Yuuji control his flow of cursed energy was the Lord of the Rings. Our boy Yuuji is TRULY a hobbit at heart. Chapter 265 spoilers ahead, but I'll put it under the cut.

It was back in season 1 when Gojo had Yuuji watch a variety of movies to teach him control of cursed energy regardless of the emotions evoked by the films. Gojo refuted Yuuji's idea that anger and other strong negative emotions are the only source of a strong cursed energy.

With that in mind, I don't think it's random that LotR is the one shown to us that helped Yuuji gain mastery over his cursed energy flow. Sure, Yuuji might've controlled it before watching other movies, but it feels as if it's on purpose that it's LotR, especially that scene at the river where Frodo tried to take the burden of destroying the ring on his own, fully aware of the dangerous journey ahead. But Sam didn't let him and willingly followed him, even if it would cost him his life.

Maybe, just maybe, Yuuji learned to control his cursed energy because he saw himself in Frodo. Yuuji looked so engrossed in the film as if he was feeling it—as if he was Frodo who, just like him, bears great evil within him. Not only that, but Yuuji saw in Frodo's eyes the same crushing weight of responsibility and isolation such an evilness entails. It was as if he's looking in the mirror. But Frodo wasn't alone. He had Sam and the others in the Fellowship who are also willing to lighten the burden he carries. And I think that's what got to Yuuji.

And I don't know if it's just me reading too much into things but Yuuji is at his best when he feels anchored by his friends' support or when they're relying on him, like that time when Yuuji held down the cursed spirit at the detention center to buy Megumi time to save Nobara and escape; when Yuuji and Todo almost defeated Hanami, and my favorite, when Nobara nailed down Mahito's double during Shibuya arc:

As corny as this sounds, Yuuji managed to pull himself from Nanamin's death and attack Mahito because he felt Nobara's presence, which encouraged him to continue fighting. Even if the sorcerers were scattered that time and most were left to fend for themselves, Yuuji didn't feel alone. This was the one thing Geto needed the most when he was spiraling down.

Yuuji reminds me so much of Frodo: Yuuji the vessel of the evilest sorcerer in history and Frodo the Ring bearer. But before that, they were nobodies living a simple life, which they treasure and work hard to keep. They're not ambitious and are satisfied being surrounded by their loved ones. They're the ones we least expect to defeat the evilest entities since they're surrounded by the strongest warriors/sorcerers, who could not defeat the said evilest entities. Yuuji, like Frodo, does not belong to the kind of world he got thrown into, and this is made pretty obvious in the recent chapter.

Throughout the many months Yuji had been with various sorcerers and curse users, his principles and worldview got blurry. He started to assimilate their ideas, which didn't feel like him to be honest. From ideas of having a specific role in life and fulfilling it, wanting to give people a good death, and having a cog mentality to being the same as Mahito and becoming a monster to defeat another monster. That's not him. That's never him. And Yuuji realized that too, and I love seeing him change his perspective into that which feels more like him.

Yuuji never liked fighting others. He may have been blessed with physical prowess that might've been on par with Nanamin, but he never wanted to use it. Heck, Yuuji joined an occult club instead of becoming an athlete. What's important to him are the memories you make with yourself and with your loved ones—choosing to do things, even mundane ones, that bring you and others joy because that's what life is all about.

To Yuuji, there's nothing wrong if you lead a simple life doing things as mundane as walking your dog, sleeping, taking a shit, writing this meta, and existing. Living day to day is already hard as it is. Yuuji wants Sukuna (and us) to know that your worth to live and be loved and respected doesn't depend on the grand dreams you have, how far you've come in life, how powerful and strong you've become, how useful you are. Your worth to live is inherent to you, and no one's going to change that, not Sukuna or anybody else. And Yuuji's not gonna stand idly by and watch the likes of him trample on people's lives. They don't get to choose who's worthy to live and kill those who don't.

I read somewhere that Gege thinks Yuuji having no ambition, unlike Naruto wanting to be a Hokage or Luffy aiming to become a Pirate King, is the story's weak point. But I disagree. That's what makes Yuuji so unique and refreshing to watch as he develops. He may not be as ambitious as other shonen heroes, but he does have a strong moral compass, even as young as 15. It may not be obvious, but Yuuji is introspective, observant, and most of all he has this childlike love for life that the other characters have lost due to the nature of their jobs.

Back to the LotR reference—as much as similar Yuuji is to Frodo—when Sukuna switched to Megumi, Yuuji started to feel more like Sam and Megumi Frodo. No matter what happens, even if it would cost him his life, Yuuji's never gonna leave Megumi alone in despair. Megumi has become weak in mind and spirit that he's possibly on the verge of giving everything up. Still, Yuuji's not going to give up on him. He will destroy Sukuna and carry Megumi back home.

In the end, if Yuuji survives, all I could ever think of is his eyes full of insurmountable despair and mourning over the lives of the people he loved and lost. There's no going back after this. I can only hope that after the end of this story, Yuuji could still find a way to rest—be with a person or in a place—if there is anyone or anything left at all.

[jflemings]

— remember to say goodnight

pairing: jessie fleming x aussie!reader

synopsis: when jessie finally gets the nerve to confess her feelings to you, she thinks she sees you locking lips with one of your national teammates

warnings: miscommunication, angst w a happy ending, one pretty little liars spoiler?? 😭 idk just thought i’d include it in the warnings

a/n: sam and kyra always at the scene of the crime….

“just tell her how you feel”

sam’s words snap jessie out of her daze, her eyes darting towards her club captain that’s taking a seat beside her. heat blooms over the midfielder’s already rosy cheeks as sam smirks.

she’d been staring at you from her spot on the bench. you’re happily chatting away with kyra, your arms flailing about as the two of you animatedly speak at rather then to one another. it’s not like she had intended to stare directly at you, she couldn’t help the fact that her eyes somehow always managed to find you wherever the two of you were. sometimes she thought that perhaps the reason she was so drawn to you was because of the light aura that surrounded you, practically begging for the attention of anyone within fifty meters of you.

jessie sighed and leant back “i’ve tried that. lost my nerve everytime i got too close” she confesses quietly as you and kyra begin to walk towards the tunnel, still caught up in eachother.

as you get closer to where sam and jessie are sitting, you lock eyes with jess over kyra’s shoulder and smile. jessie somehow manages to sink further into her seat and give you a small wave before kyra follows your line of sight. the arsenal midfielder brightly smiles at jessie and her national captain, pairing it with an enthusiastic wave before turning around back to you and shoving you in the shoulder.

upon contact, your eyes widen and dart to kyra who can only snicker in response. she throws her head back and laughs wildly into the tunnel, the joyful sound bouncing off the walls and flowing back out to the two chelsea players like a melody.

sam watches the whole interaction closely, a half smirk present on her face as she watches the younger midfielder kick out her legs and run her hands over her face. jessie sighs deeply and looks to sam with her eyebrows dropped and mouth in a straight line.

“this shit is clearly eating at you, jess, just go talk to her” sam pushes carefully “what’s the worst that could happen?”

jessie rolls her eyes “she could avoid me for all of time”

sam’s expression drops almost comically. she of all people know that jessie is dead wrong, there have been numerous times where you had ranted to sam about your, quote, ‘helpless, pathetic and straight up embarrassing’ crush on the canadian. every conversation ended with sam trying to push you to tell your close friend, only to be met without loud protests and excuses.

sam kisses her teeth “she won’t avoid you”

“you’re just saying that to get me out of my head”

“jessie, seriously, i’m not pushing for no reason” sam says sternly “if this is really bothering you then go talk to her. tell her how you feel. you know that, if anything, she’d appreciate your honesty”

cogs rapidly turn in jessie’s head as she thinks of every outcome possible. realistically she knows that sam is right, you would appreciate her honesty and that you probably wouldn’t avoid her, at least not forever. the canadian doesn’t know if it’s sam’s encouraging words or just a surge of confidence that makes her wipe her palms on her shorts before shooting up out of her seat, a determined look on her face as she turns to sam.

“i’m gonna do it” she says confidently

a smile immediately breaks on sam’s face and she hits the back of her hand against her teammate’s hip encouragingly “go on, jess! come back immediately and tell me how it goes!”

jessie doesn’t spare her another glance as she trudges on, her confidence still going steady as she approaches the tunnel. she’s wringing out her hands and going over what to say in her head when she gets to the entrance, her newfound confidence suddenly nose diving as she looks up.

your back is facing towards her, your number and last name on full display, as a pair of tan hands snake their way around your neck and pull you in. your hands immediately go to the waist of the person that’s holding you and that’s when she sees it. the number thirty two printed proudly on the shorts of the person you’re kissing.

kyra.

jessie’s heart drops and she doesn’t hesitate to turn on her heel and speed walk straight back to sam, feeling guilty that she had missed the signs that one of her closest friends was in a relationship. her face burns red as the image replays over and over in her head. she couldn’t help but feel jealous of the fact that kyra was the one who had her hands and lips all over you and not her. she couldn’t help but curse herself for thinking that perhaps your friendship was something it clearly wasn’t.

she sits back down next to sam wordlessly, the latter looking up from her phone confused “what, did you chicken out again?” sam snickers unknowingly.

jess almost curls in on herself “you… did you know she’s with kyra?” the midfielder all but whispers like she’s telling a secret

sam’s eyes go wide, her expression blown out with shock “i beg your pardon?” she questions, confusion laced in her words

jessie looks to her friend blankly “did she ever mention that she’s seeing kyra?” she asks again.

“she’s not with kyra” sam assures confidently “i would know if her and kyra were dating” she says, brows furrowing

wordlessly, and quite helplessly, jessie leans her head back and closes her eyes “i just saw them kissing, they looked pretty together to me”

whatever sam was looking at on her phone before jessie sat back down is long forgotten as she stands abruptly. she shakes out her shoulders and immediately staunches the way jessie came, brows furrowed and mouth turned in a frown.

jessie is quick to react “sam! what are you doing”

“what does it look like i’m doing? i’m going to go talk to her” sam replied huffing, her brows furrowed

“it looks like you’re going to get mad at our friend for being in a relationship” jessie says. her brown eyes are blown wide and pleading at sam to stay put.

sam sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose “jess you don’t get it”

jessie’s face scrunches up in confusion “what do you mean i don’t get it? there’s no rules saying that you can’t date someone in your team and it’s not like you’ve had a problem with it before!”

the australian striker physically deflates and looks back and forth between the direction you went in and the canadian in front of her. her eyes swirl with inner conflict, like she’s trying her hardest to come up with a solution for something she deems a problem. jessie doesn’t know what’s come over sam, there’s no reason for her to be angry right now. sometimes things just don’t work out the way you want them to but that isn’t a reason why sam would be reacting this way.

kyra was a good person and the two of you clearly got along well. sure, she’d fallen into the annoying little sister role for both arsenal and the matildas but she was a talented player who knew how to put her head down and get to work. there have been multiple occasions where sam has done nothing but praise kyra as a person and a player, so for her to suddenly be up in arms about the possibility of the two of you dating is just ridiculous.

sam waves jessie off “don’t worry about it” she says quietly as she sits back down “you’re right, it’s not a big deal”

———

jessie has been avoiding you for almost three weeks now and she’s been shit at pretending she’s not.

of course, she keeps it professional enough that it doesn’t affect the team, but she can’t keep it private enough to keep said team out of your business. when they ask you what jessie’s problem is the only answer you can give them is a vague one, a mere shoulder shrug when you really aren’t in the mood, and send them on their way.

it has been killing you because it happened gradually. first she’d text you less, then she told you that there was no need to carpool anymore, and now she was doing everything in her power to avoid you whenever you had to partner up for training or the bus. you were fucking sick of it.

jessie wasn’t like this at all. if she was mad she’d give the silent treatment for maybe two days before coming back, always preferring to talk things out. because of this you know that she felt comfortable and secure enough within your friendship to come to you on the rare occasion she had an issue. you really had tried everything you could think of from texting her more, to trying to make conversation when you two would happen to be walking into cobham at the same time. you even bought her the odd coffee and left it in her cubby but nothing was working.

which lead you here, curled up on your couch moping around just praying that she’d put you out of your misery and shoot you a quick text.

she obviously didn’t, but it’s good to have ambition.

you can feel your mind going numb as a result of the pretty little liars re-binge you were currently on, too unfocused to watch a show you hadn’t before. it probably wasn’t a good idea though since you’d convinced jessie to watch it with you. you could practically hear her peanut gallery commentary in the back of your mind running on repeat like a broken record.

to say you were in shambles was a bit of an understatement, which is probably what leads kyra into your home. she doesn’t knock, because when does she ever, choosing to instead announce herself loudly as she walks through the door. you don’t answer her but she follows the noise of the tv straight into your living room.

you’re laying on your side under a throw blanket with a miserable look on your face and she can tell that you haven’t moved in a few hours. she gasps when she sees alison dramatically turn around on screen, followed by the signature line ‘did you miss me?”.

the gunner looks between you and the tv “oh wow you’re really going through it, normally that scene gets a reaction out of you everytime” she says whilst manoeuvring herself around you, sitting on your feet at the end of the couch.

she pats your leg “tell kyra what’s wrong”

“you know what’s wrong” you murmur sourly, pulling the blanket further up to your chin

kyra clicks her tongue “jessie still not speaking to you?”

“no!” you say forcefully whilst sitting up “i don’t know what i’ve done! she won’t even be in the same room as me for longer than five minutes” you exclaim

the midfielder purses her lips “that’s a bit of a stretch”

“kyra—”

“okay yup, not helping, fully understood”

you sigh and flop back down on the couch, throwing your arm over your face incase you start tearing up “i just miss her so much”

kyra hears the slight break in your voice and her face softens. she reaches for you and pulls your arm off your face before pulling you up and into her, wrapping her arms protectively around you “she’ll come around, y/n/n. it might not even be about you”

you scoff into her chest “she’s speaking to everyone on the team but me and it’s like whenever i’m around, sam magically appears and creates even more distance between us”

“what?” kyra asks shocked, pushing you back ever so slightly so she can look at you “sam? as in sammy?”

you meekly nod “i don’t know what i’ve done and no one will tell me”

kyra’s mouth turns down in a frown just as tears well up in your eyes, they quickly spill over your waterline in waves and you’re unable to stop them until they’ve completely soaked kyra’s jumper. she runs her hand through your hair as you cry to her, unsure of what to do or say in this situation. sam wasn’t normally one to get involved unless she felt like she absolutely had to so the fact that she was actively making sure that there was always distance between you and jessie puzzled the young midfielder.

your head snaps towards your front door when you hear it open and close, whoever just walked in choosing not to knock like kyra.

sam quietly walks into your living room, clearly not expecting you to have company if her wide eyes are anything to go by “i didn’t realise you had company”

your brow quirks “what are you doing here?” you ask breathlessly.

sam shuffles her feet as she notices your puffy eyes and pink face “we really need to talk”

dread overcomes you, her words sending a chill up your spine “what’s going on with jessie?” you ask, almost afraid of the answer.

the striker’s face contorts before settling again “that’s what we need to talk about” her voice is quiet as she looks to kyra “but i don’t know if kyra needs to hear this”

kyra immediately stands “i can leave it’s-”

“no” you say forcefully

“y/n” sam says through gritted teeth “this isn’t a conversation you want your girlfriend to hear”

both you and kyra’s jaws drop, your eyebrows have raised the highest they’ve ever raised before and you stare at sam in disbelief

“girlfriend!”

“girlfriend?”

you’re both shocked, and quite confused about where sam got that idea from “after the conversations we’ve had why on fucking earth would you think that kyra and i are together!?” your voice raises “have you finally done your head in?”

kyra quickly looks between the two of you “we- no. no, no, no” kyra exclaims whilst waving her hands in an X motion.

“but jessie said-”

“jessie”

sam sighs before starting her sentence again “jessie said that she saw the two of you kissing in the tunnel a couple weeks ago, after the game”

you wrack your brain for what exactly sam could be referring to until it hits you. you bury your face in your hands just as kyra has the sam realisation.

“oh my god we weren’t kissing! i was teasing her about not making a move on jessie yet, it was a joke” kyra defends “i was pretending to kiss her to take the piss out of her, not to actually kiss her”

your captain pulls her lips into a thin line and sighs once again, squeezing her eyes shut “you’re telling me that it only looked like the two of you were kissing because kyra wanted you to kiss jessie?” she asks tiredly

“yes!” the pair of you exclaim in unison, eager for sam to understand that it was all just a joke.

you pull your face out of your hands confused “why would she even care about that?” you ask cluelessly, clearly too focused on the impossible idea that you and kyra were a couple.

sam and kyra stare at eachother silently, the pair wearing identical blank expressions. the hours you’ve spent in front of the tv must’ve really melted your brain because you take longer than needed to understand why jess could’ve possibly been so upset with the thought that you were dating your matildas teammate.

upon realisation, you throw the blanket off yourself and practically push kyra out of the way as you leap up out of your seat to hastily grab your car keys from the kitchen counter. you don’t waste anytime racing to your front door and sliding on your birkenstocks over your socks before practically throwing your front door open “if you leave lock my door and turn off my tv! ‘kay thanks bye!” you shout from halfway out of your flat.

“where are you going?” kyra questions

you pop your head back in “to go see the woman i’m actually in love with!”

you hear kyra let out a grunt of disbelief before you race to your car, not even caring that you’re not really dressed for london weather at the moment. the only thought running though your mind being jessiejessiejessie.

———

jessie’s sat on her bed reading when she hears someone pounding at her front door, practically jumping out of her skin as she throws her covers off herself and speed walks to the entrance. she opens her door to you dressed in your old brisbane roar jumper and a pair of gray sweats, a nervous but wild look on your face.

her brain short circuits as she looks at you, her hand fiddles with the sleeve of her flannel nervously while she thinks of the right thing to say to you.

apparently you’ve already thought of what you wanted to say, though, as the words come tumbling out of your mouth without a warning.

“i wasn’t kissing kyra” you say half breathlessly “she- we- it’s not like that”

jessie’s face burns bright red because of your words, clearly not expecting you to know about what she thinks she saw.

“oh” the canadian replies dumbly

you shoot her an endearing smile and tilt your head ever so slightly “what you saw was kyra making fun of me” you explain timidly “she was just taking the piss, trying to get a laugh out of me”

“she was making fun of you by pretending to kiss you?” jess questions with her head cocked “why-”

“because i haven’t kissed you”

jessie sucks in a sharp breath after you cut her off because never in a million years did she think that the two of you would be in this situation right now. she’d talked to niamh about it, even sam when she felt like she could, but she didn’t think that it would actually happen.

she steps aside and lets you into her flat, holding her arm out wide in an inviting manner. you smile at her and step into her place, the smell of warm lavender instantly hitting you upon entrance.

“can i ask why sam was so upset?”

“can i ask why you thought it was a good idea to avoid me for almost a month?” you deflect, wanting an answer and to keep your cards close to your chest for now.

a blush creeps up jessie’s neck and she looks down “i didn’t plan to but i thought that maybe it would be better if we didn’t spend as much time together for a little while” she confesses quietly before looking back to you “why was sam so upset with you?”

you freeze and scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, having a debate with yourself about wether or not this was the right time to say it. you had known about how strong your feelings are for jess for a while now, but telling her was a completely different ball game. there was every chance that her feelings aren’t as strong or that you scare her off because you’re being too forward.

“we, uhm, sam and i just had a conversation before all this happened and i guess she got upset because she thought i was being an ass”

jessie leads you to her kitchen with a wave of her hand, urging you to sit down whilst she grabbed out two mugs and two tea bags “can i know what the conversation was about?” she questions again.

you toss your options up in your head as she turns the kettle on and grabs the sugar. the sight of her just making tea for the two of you paired with the soft warm lighting of her place makes you feel at home and safe, leaving your heart swelling in your chest at the possibility of this being your future.

“i told sam that i’m in love with you, so when she heard that kyra and i were ‘together’ she was understandably upset” you mumble, casting your eyes down the the bench your hands rest on “she was just being a good friend”

jessie leans her lower back against the counter as she turns to face you, a small, shy smile playing on her lips. she frowns when she realises that you won’t look her in the eye and quickly leans into your personal space, hooking a finger under your chin

“i’m sorry i avoided you” she murmurs “and i’m sorry that we didn’t get the chance to have this conversation sooner”

you give her a half smile and nod “it’s okay”

“no it’s not” jessie says, shaking her head “i’m in love with you and i would really like it if you gave me a chance to be honest with you about it”

your face heats up just as the kettle whistles, leaving jessie to tend to it with a sigh. she pours the boiling water into the mugs, followed by milk, before handing you the steaming beverage with a smile. she places her forearms on top of the counter and leans over again “you know when you drunk called me after you knocked us out of the world cup?”

you grimace “…yes”

“do you remember what you said to me?”

your finger traces the rim of your mug as you think back to that blurry night. knocking the olympic gold medalists out of a world cup on home soil meant that you and the girls went a bit hard that night and you can only recall calling jessie’s contact after kyra had handed you your forth shot of vodka and told you that it was a good idea to get on the phone to your club teammate.

you shake your head in response, and jessie smiles “you said that you were just calling to say goodnight” she laughs lightly to herself “you were absolutely plastered out celebrating with your team and you called me to say goodnight”

you furrow your brows, not really recognising the significance. you said it to her almost every night, no matter what time zone you were in, it had just become a habit.

jessie sees your confusion and hooks a finger under your chin once again “it meant everything to me that you remembered to say goodnight”

suddenly everything clicked for you. your eyes go slightly wide before looking down at jessie’s lips and then back up to her honey brown eyes, wanting nothing more than to kiss her. one hand finds her wrist whilst the other gently grips her cheek, pulling her further into your space.

your lips fit together like puzzle pieces, the kiss becoming as easy as breathing. her hand moves from under your chin to your face, leaving her fingers and palm spread out along your jaw. your right hand curls around the back of her neck and lightly tugs at the baby hairs at the base of her skull, making jessie pull away breathless

“stay” she whispers against your lips “just so you’ll remember to say goodnight”

you smile against her “i’ll always remember to say goodnight”.

[nekokoaa]

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (III)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

4K words | (3/5) chapters

Chapters:

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)

Author's notes: I work as a freelance copywriter so I had to prioritize my projects but I still managed to get this done! Enjoy! :) Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list.

Also on AO3

III.

Sometimes you wish you were mindless—just a rusty cog of a machine in a 9 to 5 corporate job. Simply, a taciturn sheep led by a shepherd, waiting for the day a butcher’s knife is pressed against its neck. It was easier to handle life in such a way. Regrets can never be born when allied with carelessness.

But it was something beyond you. Clearly. The throes of passion had tempted you that night. His hand on your hip firmly held you in place, fingers pressed into your suit. Covetous crimson eyes searched between your eyes and lips long enough that the sweat of your skin gathered at your clavicles. But you managed to resist his heat, disappointing, yes, but at least you still had your dignity—your morals. If it wasn’t for that, you might’ve been in his bed that night, rocking your hips against his without a single care in the world.

Three weeks had passed by and you haven’t had a session with him since that night. You were canceling them in hopes that the fire between you fizzles. With distance, desire usually fades so you only hoped that night was just your hormones acting up and there wasn’t a deeper meaning to how you felt.

Between that time, you had the opportunity to meet Gwen Stacy from 65. She was a nice girl, cool, and very much like all of you. Burdened with the sense of justice with a side of wittiness.

She was popular, especially among the Peters who had lost their Gwens. They looked at her like she was a what-if moment and were impressed by her, but you knew you’ll be seeing them on your office couch soon enough.

Hobie was practically best friends with her now. The late night sessions with Hobie were a rare occurrence these days. Like a stray, he found a new person to feed his interests.

Jess favored her the most. Reminded her of her younger days, and how impressive she was at that age—still is, as she’s been carrying a baby in her stomach while doing her missions flawlessly.

Miguel was indifferent. At least that’s how he acted. But as long as work was getting done, you were leveling up the relationship bar with him.

Out of everyone, Peter B was home to her. To see a familiar face amongst like-minded strangers had helped her settle in faster than you expected. Seeing them together made them look like family.

Because of the great reputation she had around the society, today you allowed Gwen to pull you away from the safety of your office straight to Miguel’s for what she called emotional support. There was something she wanted to ask him—a request. And she had the idea that your presence would soften him up somehow.

“Why do you think that?” When you asked, Gwen looked back at you with a knowing smile. Her hand still latched onto your wrist like a snake squeezing its prey. She guided you through the cavernous hall of tech that led to Miguel’s office, the pathway seemed to grow darker the closer you got.

“I see how you two look at each other during meetings.” She said effortlessly like it was a fact. You let out a cough like you choked on air, already shaking your head to her conclusion.

“You know he’s always leading them—what? Do you expect me to look at the ceiling or something?” Gwen laughed at this, but it didn’t look like she was convinced.

Walking in, you had expected Miguel’s office to be darker than the hall leading towards it, but it was instead imbued with a ruddy tint, and streaks of sliver threads surrounded the area Miguel was standing in. He was in the middle of briefing a few Spider-Men for a mission on Gaia-3000. Miguel always made sure to remind his agents of the canon events before going on a mission to prevent the loss of the universe. It was more important than the mission itself.

The briefing didn’t last long as Miguel noticed you enter with Gwen. His gaze could’ve riveted you to the floor, the look on his face was neither soft nor austere—perhaps aloof would best describe how he looked at you. Yet you wanted to believe there was something behind those eyes of his because not once did they leave you since you entered. 

It was until the Spider-Men walked into their portals that Miguel’s attention moved to the floating projections. The silver webs of fate orbited around him as if he were a sun. He would’ve looked occupied if it weren’t for his eyes moving between you and the projections.

“Doc.” He greeted you once you were in front of him, looking down at you through the hologram of a canon event that floated in between you two. There was a moment—just a moment where his eyes looked soft… but it could’ve been the trick of the hologram.

“Miguel.” You had to suck your lips in to stop yourself from smiling. You hated to admit it, but you were happy to speak to him after so long. Staying away from him was a selfish decision, one that you regretted now that you stood in front of him. 

Your heart thumped in bliss, the warmth from that night revisiting you like an old friend. How inane of you to think that distance would’ve settled this emotion. It was already being stitched onto your soul from the moment this agreement started—the very needle sunken in when his hand stretched out of that portal into your apartment many months ago. You couldn’t pretend anymore.

You fell for him. Regardless of whether he felt the same or not.

“Uh, I’m here too…” Gwen had a slight smile on her face, bending forward with a small wave to Miguel.

“Gwen,” you could tell Miguel forced a smile, fangs appearing while none of the light reached his eyes. It lasted a moment before it dropped to his usual scowl. Miguel then turned around to face his floating platform that started its slow descent to the ground. “I’m sure you already had a tour of the place unless you’re just here to say hello.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something!”

“If a universe isn’t collapsing, or an anomaly hasn’t appeared, then Jess can handle it.”

“But it’s important! I just figure it would make our jobs easier. You know, making sure the universes are in order?”

The rumble of the descending platform had filled in for Miguel’s silence. He peeked behind his shoulder, his eyes looking past Gwen’s and into yours before they lowered to the ground. He then folded his arms against his chest, sighing. “I’m listening.”

Gwen immediately beamed, light filling her eyes. “Okay!” You could tell her entire energy ignited. Her arms flailed with every word that left her lips. She was animated—excited, glowing like a sun rising from the horizon, its rays brighter as the seconds go by. If anyone were to watch her, they too would feel elated by her presence alone. 

But as the sun rises in one part of the world, it sets in the other. Her idea was nothing but grave to you, the dread in your face impossible to hide as she spoke with an open mind—naivety in her words. You couldn’t blame her because it’s possible no one told her yet, not Jess and surprisingly not Peter B. If she had told you of her idea prior, you wouldn’t have come here to support her. Just the thought of her idea could be considered mutiny to the entire cause… to Miguel.

You cast your eyes down, afraid to even lift them towards Miguel. You didn’t have to. You could already feel it brewing, simmering like water on a stovetop. A part of you internally begged for Gwen to shut up, or wished the sound of the descending platform was loud enough to overtake her voice. Miguel wasn’t facing either of you but you could still feel a weight on top of your shoulders, drilling you into the floors, your limbs heavier than sacks of sand.

Gwen went on and on until she was rambling, probably because she was excited or nervous. You couldn’t exactly tell. It was until the platform finally reached the ground that Gwen ended her request with a “pretty please” and a large smile on her face.

That smile didn’t last long.

“No,” Miguel spoke softly.

“Wha…” she faltered, physically her shoulders dropped. “What? Wait—why? I mean—he would be such a great asset to our group and—Probably one of the best Spider-mans I’ve met. The things he can do— He’s amazing , Miguel.”

“I said, no.” And it was final. Gwen knew that but she still pushed, making her argument, excuses, anything. Miguel silenced her with a heavy sigh, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. You expected anger when he turned to face her but no, there was nothing but sympathy in his eyes. Sympathy for what he had to reveal to her. He towered over her and with a heavy hand on her shoulder, said:

“That Miles Morales… was never supposed to be a Spider-Man. He’s not one of us. He’s an anomaly , Gwen, the original anomaly.”

At those words, it was like a string was pulled, released and an arrow soared and struck her chest. Gwen was trying to make sense of it all but nothing made sense no matter how long she thought about it.

Miguel continued regardless. With the command of his hands, the projections swirled around you three, depicting the moment when Spider-42 fell into Earth-1610, bit the wrong Miles Morales and in turn, the Spider-man from his universe died. Your real comrade.

Gwen didn’t want to believe it. Shaking her head as she stared at each projection. The truth floated around her. Thoughts ran a mile a minute. It would’ve been better if Peter B. told her instead of Miguel. Maybe if she heard it from a trusted friend, it would’ve been easier to believe. But Gwen knew there was no reason for Miguel to lie about this. What motive could Miguel have to not let Miles join the Spider Society?

“Miles Morales-1610 as Spider-man was a mistake.” His words to her were the final nail to a coffin. With the skidding sound coming from her shoes, she turned around and bolted out of Miguel’s office.

“Gwen!” You were about to chase after her until Miguel’s voice cut through the air.

“You think I’m done here?”

You physically jumped at how loud he sounded like thunder had rolled and rumbled the floor under your feet. You turned towards him and immediately you regretted it. What was brewing before was most certainly his anger, saved solely for you while Gwen was spared because of her naivety. But you—you knew better than to associate yourself with the anomaly. If only Miguel could give you a chance to explain yourself.

“Miguel, I—”

He didn’t let you finish. His hand latched onto your wrist, pulling you deeper into his office and into a room beyond the shadows. It was more like a traditional office than the one outside with a desk, a bookcase, a soft couch and some cabinets. There was even a bed that Miguel probably slept in whenever he didn't want to return home. The sheets were ruffled so you could tell he often used it but never had enough time to make it because he was usually always on the go.

However, it was the last thing on your mind when you had a fuming Miguel in front of you. He didn’t even wait for the door to close before he grabbed you a little too rough by the shoulders, shaking you lightly. Red eyes lasered down on you.

Undoubtedly, you knew he was angry, but there was something else in there.

“What were you thinking? You know what Miles-1610 is to us, Doc! You know what an anomaly could do to a universe and you still supported her idea? Did you really think that was okay? Letting an anomaly join and ruin everything —!”

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know that’s what she wanted to ask! All she told me was that it would support the society and she needed me here for emotional support! If I knew it was about the anomaly, I wouldn’t have come here!”

You yelled back louder. Miguel’s talon-less fingers buried themselves in your upper arms, squeezing them. His eyes were wide, shaky red irises searching within your own for any hint of honesty. The grip on you wasn’t as firm as it looked. Like a crane holding a prize, the slightest nudge would’ve shaken his hands off. Despite how he looked, Miguel made sure he wasn’t hurting you.

“This is exactly why I told Jess I didn’t want her to join! She’s—She’s too close with the anomaly. She can jeopardize our entire cause all because of him !” He froze after, an idea appearing in his head. He wasn’t thinking rationally anymore. He released you, turning around like he wanted to leave. “She has to go home.”

“Wait! You can’t—Let’s think about this, Miguel.”

He was quick to face you again, his hands returning to your upper arms. He bent forward until his face was at your level. “I can’t have her risk all that I built—that we built.”

There it was. It wasn’t just anger he was feeling. The signs were all there; His trembling breath, the sweat that made his forehead glossy, the weakness in his hold. 

Miguel was panicking.

It was fear that buried itself within his fury from the moment Gwen had asked for Miles-1610’s recruitment and when he thought you supported her idea. It was like he saw it again. His daughter disappearing in his arms, the weight of her so heavy… until he felt nothing—until nothing around him existed except for what remained of the universe: white light and empty space. He had the blood of that universe on his hands and no matter how many times he tried to wash them away, it was now embedded in his soul. All that existed ended because he was the anomaly of that world disrupting the canon events. 

Months after months of research couldn’t bring him the exact reason for that universe ending, but he was sure of one thing. If everything went how it was planned, nothing like that would happen ever again.

And that’s why it was his job to put things back to how it was. It was the only thing he could do to atone.

So yes, Miguel was reliving his trauma yet again.

And it was your job to relieve him of it.

“That doesn’t mean we should make rash decisions,” you told him, gently. “She’s one of our best and letting her go would slow down our efforts. You and I both know that.”

Miguel’s energy was being sapped out of him, visibly his shoulders dropped and those red eyes were no longer on you as he hung his head low. He released you and retreated to sit on his bed. For a moment, he looked like a toy that ran out of batteries, burying his face in his hands before he ran them through his curly locks.

It was so different seeing him like this—like he was moping. You followed him and stood between his legs.

“Besides, Gwen's a smart girl. She wouldn’t do anything that would put the universes at risk.” He didn’t respond or even look at you. It made you run a hand against his cheek as your thumb brushed under his eye. “When’s the last time you slept? You look tired.”

“I don’t have time to be tired. Not when there’s a Galaxy-size mess I have to clean up. With every anomaly we restore, 10,000 more just take its place. It’s never-ending, Doc. I’m like a janitor mopping up a shoreline.” 

“We all took an oath. A spider-person’s job never ends. Which is why we need to rest as much as we can to fight another day.”

“I didn’t ask for this, Doc.” He sighed, leaning his head against your hand until his cheek pushed up against it. “And I won’t be able to sleep.”

“None of us did…” you lightly smiled, “And I’ll help you.”

You pulled your hand away from his cheek, but you didn’t miss when he leaned more against it for his lips to press into your palm. The brief feel of them jolted something within you like a warm shiver struck your lower stomach. Gosh, it made you curious—too curious about how they would feel against other parts of your body.

And you didn’t miss those eyes that looked up at you, red like cherries, sweet like them too. It was hard to turn away, somewhat thankful you managed to because you didn’t want to be under their spell. You still felt the heat of them on you even as you approached his bookcase. Your palm still tingling from the feel of his lips as you pulled a book off one of the shelves. You returned to him grinning.

He was disappointed when he glanced at your book choice in your hand. “Charlotte’s web? Am I a kid to you?”

“No, but… you act like one sometimes. Lay down for me.”

You pushed against his shoulder leaving him no choice but to oblige. What he didn’t expect was you to climb in after him, settling on your side next to him while you opened the book to page one and started to read. 

Miguel still couldn’t sleep. His eyes remained open, watching the top of your head as you read. A lovely smile on your face as you tried (and failed) to give each character their own distinctive voice. When you weren’t busy turning the page, the hand that he kissed was together with his, fingers interlocked. You were so used to holding his hand by now that you thought nothing of it and ignored the warmth that spread throughout your body because of it.

“Are you finally resuming our sessions?” Miguel interrupted you, pulling your eyes away from the book and into his own.

“Only if you need it.”

You knew Miguel would never admit he needed it, especially how adamant he was about them in the beginning.

“I need it.”

Oh.

“I definitely need it.”

“Then… I’ll put you back on my calendar.”

“ Muy Bien. ”

His sonorous whisper had heat searing your cheeks, not to mention, that smile that flashed your way made his fangs look bigger—so mischievous it had you biting your lip. Immediately after, Miguel’s mask materialized around his head. Much to your disappointment.

“Do you really need your mask on while you sleep?” You asked.

“You never know when the job needs you. Have to always be on the ready.”

“Words from a true workaholic… you said you wanted a family but how exactly were you going to make time for them when you’re working all these hours?”

“Oh, I always made time for mi hija . Always went to her soccer practice. Always was there to read her a bedtime story. Take her clothes shopping. I was made to be a dad but… it just isn’t in my fate to be one.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you heard his pain. You squeezed his hand, regretful.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no, no, no—It’s okay… It’s a valid question.”

Not knowing what else to say, you continued to read. Seconds, minutes, time ticked away. Miguel’s hand was still tight in yours, but his voice came out heavy whenever he commented about the book. His head was against the pillows, turned in your direction. 

Your voice must’ve been soothing him because his hand would grow weak in yours and then he would suddenly squeeze it, throwing a random comment out about the main character, Wilbur, and then trying to convince you he didn’t fall asleep. Sometimes the heat where your hands came together would make him doze off and the coolness that grew when they were briefly apart would stir him awake.

“Maybe we should’ve recruited Charlotte. She really saved that pig’s ass,” he mumbled, looking like he had sunk deeper into his bed, the pillows swallowed his head.

“Yeah, she dedicated her life to saving him. All the way to the very end. She never gave up, spending hours weaving her web, trying to convince the humans no matter how tough it got. I’m sure she may have felt like she was… mopping up a shoreline too but her actions paid off in the end… the difference is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You have us—all of us to rely on, to help shoulder the burden. Please don’t forget that—that we’re here for you.”

You expected something, anything from him, but you received nothing but silence. “Miguel…? Oh…” it was then you noticed his hand was weak in yours and when you pulled your hand away, he stayed asleep.

Finally. You couldn’t help but smile, softly closing the book before sitting up.

You watched his chest rise and fall as he lay supine against his bed. You should’ve left his office but you stayed there watching him sleep, taking in the rare sight of Miguel completely defenseless. You wished you could’ve seen his face. It would’ve been the topping on the cake.

Your fingers brushed against his arm, suddenly craving the warmth of his body.

You couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer, but you wondered if Miguel felt anything for you. You knew how lonely men acted. As long as the body was warm and could keep them company, it didn’t matter to them.

Some part of you wondered if you were just as lonely as Miguel—that these feelings were just because you craved for someone. Maybe it was even the reason why you sprung up this agreement in the first place. After your divorce, you became married to your work, the only thing that mattered was your patients as a therapist and the people you saved as a superhero. You abandoned yourself, shutting yourself off from the world within your white-walled apartment. It was why you looked up to Miguel as much as you did because he was the one who pulled you out of your darkness. So you were hoping you could do the same thing for him.

But you knew your heart beat too strongly for it to be just feelings of loneliness. It longed for him even when you were this close to him, wanting to be surrounded by the warmth that emanated from him, wanting to be touched, kissed, and held only by the man who saved you, your guiding light while you were lost at sea.

Your hand moved to caress his cheek, feeling the fibers of his mask under your fingertips. You were leaning closer to him, unable to resist like a moth to a flame. God, you were completely enamored by him. Looks like he didn’t need to look at you to be under his spell.

For the first time, you didn’t think about the consequences. For the first time, you were mindless.

You pressed your lips against his lips, closing your eyes. It was softer than you expected; light, feathery and warm. Too warm . It was brief but it was enough to light a flame within you that burned when you pulled away. Your breath shuddered as you inhaled, the warmth lasting only a second.

Your eyes opened, but you found yourself stilling. Miguel’s eyes were still closed, though half of his mask was dematerialized to the tip of his nose. His lips were out, free from the fibers.

Your mouth hung open. Miguel had removed half of his mask when kissed him and you hadn't a clue if he was asleep all this time or not.

The remainder of his mask dematerialized and you were face to face with those eyes of his. Your heart skipped a beat, knocking the air from your lungs as your palms grew sweaty. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You felt so much pressure under his gaze, his face not quite readable. You flicked your wrist towards the ceiling and a web shot out, preparing yourself to run away until a glowing red web wrapped around your wrist and riveted you in place.

“Not this time, Doc.”

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

Tag List:

@oikawa-bubs @brittney69 @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @allysunny @smarty0029 @96jnie @deepinballs @lovecandyuwu @remuslupinwifee

[theangrycomet-art]

The Almanac is a very... interesting read

I have... opinions on some of the behind the scenes world building and what they had planned with S4 (it makes me a little glad the show ended where it did... writers it's bad enough you offed Prowl when you could have had restoring the Allspark be the Key's purpose instead of upgrading Sari- but then to further split up the team whyyyyy)

Anyway, here's Blitzwing and my take on him before the Triple-Changer experiment was done to him against his will and his former partner the cold hearted bitch who did it to him, also pre-op.

COMMISSIONS OPEN

Ramblings (no really- RAMBLINGS) below: I wanted to make this a comic but the Art wasn't Arting

TLDR: Lancer and Blitzwing were taken as prisoners of war by the autobots and Lancer made a lot of bad decisions to try and save his life within they circumstances which directly led to him becoming the first triple changer.

It's a little more complicated than this but basically Blitzwing (then known as Kaltwing) was hurt REALLY bad when he and Lancer were trying to retrieve the Allspark-about partway through the war. Like- missing his legs- wings ripped off- half his face blasted off bad.

So Lancer, or Himmel Lancer as she was then called, tried to put him back together with what she had on hand because she was not about to let her best friend go OFFLINE. This resulted in her basically frankenstein-ing him parts from a fallen tank decepticon's corpse as well as her own parts to try and keep him online.Most notably her own T-cog, as his was damaged and forcing him to attempt to transform at random. Because they were the same Frame type it was compatible enough to stabilize it when she fused the two ports.

Unfortunately, this still left him in extreme agony as Lancer was a RESEARCHER, not a Medic by any streatch of the word. It was one of those times he was pleading with her to offline him that they were caught by Autobots. With Blitzwing barley able to move and Lancer unable to transform, they were fish in a barrel.

The Autobots, after surgically stripping Lancer of ALL her weapons and installing a "contingency clause" protocol, allowed her to continue Blitzwing's "treatment" as well as forcing her to continue such experiments on other captured ‘cons. Many were curious to see where this "project" would go, even if most wouldn't openly agree to it themselves.

This went on for years with Blitzwing being their geniua pig until they reached the final straw for both of the former seekers.

Through a string of luck and incompetence, Lancer managed to achieve the two's original goal and stole the All-Spark right from under Ultra Magnus' nose. She was hoping it would reverse the damage she's done to him, and possibly restore herself in the process, but she was interrupted when the gaurds caught up with her and the contingency clause protocols activated and began frying her from the inside out.

While she was able to stabilize Blitzwing before all this and relieve him of the physical pain he'd been under, it came at cost. Between his fritzing original T-cog and the trauma of having endless, painful operations at the hands of his friend and subsequent the poor treatment from Autobots, his mind broke under the Allsparks "upgrades"z

During the chaos, he manages to break free and slaughters everyone in the facility including Lancer (at least he thought so). He was trying to grant her the clean death she refused him.

(Ironically enough, this damaged her enough for the protocols to think she'd offlined, and thus deactivate on their own).

He escapes back to the decepticons empty-handed and scary the shit out of everyone while Lancer is left to deal with the remaining wrath of the autobots.

[embarassedwithapicketsign]

comfort hungry phoebe x reader

rpf!!!

pls dont be mean i dont claim to be a good writer i literally just need more boygenius content and took it into my own hands, im aware this isn’t good <3

this is also extremely self indulgent im chronically single and touch starved atm

phoebe was never one for emotions, perhaps stemming from her childhood years begging to be loved, or maybe her innate fear of vulnerability. she didn't like to dwell on the whys too much, her friends had accepted her odd ways and her ever revolving partners had managed, although not without difficulty. her favourite pet name for her ex was 'dude', a funny running joke at first but then a sad testament to the lack of intimacy within their relationship, and when her first girlfriend admitted that she loved her all phoebe could force out was an awkward smile and a quick 'you too'. it wasn't that she didn't feel, in fact the girl felt so much that it hurt, it pained her to see how her inability to express her emotions affected her relationships but it just never felt right.

that was until she met her girlfriend. phoebe was enamoured with you from the moment you were introduced after one of her shows by some mutual friends. your smile was what first attracted her to you, but it was your ability to make her feel completely comfortable with herself that made her stay. now, almost a year into your relationship phoebe couldn't get enough. she still wasn't big on being affectionate in public, but today she found herself craving your touch, catching your eye from across the room filled with people she couldn't care less about. she smiled as you recognised her discomfort, always in tune with what she needed, and made your way to her. linking your two hands together phoebe squeezed tight letting the sweet smell of your perfume distract her from the blurring noise of the conversation happening around her.

when a brief lull arose in the discussion, phoebe couldn't help but drag you away to a secluded corner. she hated these things, glorified industry networking parties, but ‘the record’ came out in a few months and their manager insisted her and the boys went so naturally you had to come along too. 'fuck's sake', phoebe muttered, resting her forehead on your shoulder, feeling you move as you giggled.

'phoebs, it's not that bad, just an hour or so left and we can leave, i promise', you ran your hands through the blondes hair, feeling her sigh before she lifted her head and held your gaze with wide eyes. she usually managed to push through these things on autopilot but she'd been having a bad few days which quickly turned into a bad week, falling back into her cruel cycle of self hatred and nihilistic thoughts and all she wanted to do was be at home cuddled up with maxine and of course, you.

wrapping her arms around your waist you couldn't help but notice that she was tugging you closer, pulling you into her despite the curious eyes that usually would send her back to her anti-pda ways. you too ignored the stares and melted into her warm body, sensing her need for comfort. 'i love you so much baby', you whispered, rubbing your thumb softly along the strip of skin where her shirt had separated from her trousers, 'we can go right now if you want, i know you're not feeling good.'

biting her lip in thought you could practically see the cogs working in her brain and she sighed before answering, 'no, i promised jb and lucy i would be here', you were about to interrupt her to tell her what she already knew, that her bandmates wouldn't care if she left and never came back once she was safe and feeling okay, but phoebe gave you a pleading look, 'i know, but i want to be here for them, they were so excited for this.'

'okay, but say the word and we'll leave' you hesitantly replied, wanting nothing more than to wrap phoebe up in your bed with a steaming cup of tea and a promise to never let anything hurt her. she looked at you with grateful eyes, lifting her head from where it had fallen on your shoulder to press her lips against yours. 

as if sensing they were being spoken about lucy and julien bounded over and took in the stance of their two friends, 'the heart eyes over here are insane’, joked julien, before throwing her own heart eyes at lucy who was instead focused on the way phoebe kept herself firmly in your hold, despite both of you expecting her to move away like she usually did. 

phoebe lightly smiled murmuring a quiet retort to her best friend, slipping effortlessly into their usual back and forth relationship. joining the conversation you tried to ignore the woman clinging to you, not wanting to bring attention to the fact that she was still attached to you but that became impossible when her hand grabbed yours and placed it on her back, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. you knew what she was looking for, and holding back a smile you dragged your nails lightly up and down her back the way she loved. she craned her neck to stare up at you and your cheeks flushed at the intense love in her eyes. 'i love you sweetheart, thank you for being here’, phoebe said, the earnestness in her voice making your heart squeeze. smiling like an idiot you kissed her forehead, continuing to rub her back.

'this is sickening phoebs', julien interrupted, a grin on her face, as much as she loved making fun of the blonde she also loved seeing phoebe so comfortable in her relationship for the first time. 'shut up' phoebe muttered, finally pulling away from you to hide her blushing face. you laughed at the look on the boys' faces as they finally saw this side of phoebe, the one which you gladly experienced every day. phoebe was so full of love. she had so much of it to give and you were on the lucky receiving end of it. 'i hate all of you guys' she said, finally emerging from behind her hands, her red cheeks apparent.

'no you dont', said lucy, shaking her head softly at their friend.

'no i dont'

[llondonfog]

i hope you're doing well, my dear lettie <3 for the six sentence prompt ask game, might i request silver getting sick at school and lilia dutifully cuts class to take care of him? 🥹

"Oh— oh, watch yourself, love—"

The hand on his arm is sure and steady, and it is the only thing that keeps Silver's knees from buckling away beneath him as if he were wobbling around with transfigured sea legs, jellified and weak.

It's a familiar touch, one that he would know even in the deepest of slumbers. He doesn't need to lift his heavy eyes to know who has seemingly materialized out of thin air to support him, and because Silver is, still among all things, a child, it takes no effort at all to slump his head to the side and rest his forehead against the waiting curve of his father's shoulder.

" . . . now, what am I to do with you?"

Silver was sick.

And not the average, runny-nose and scratchy cough kind, but the roiling shower steam nausea, feverish kind— the kind that felt as if little craft fairies with lead hammers had taken up residence in the hollows of his bones and the aching sinus pockets behind his eyes, and were banging incessantly on his raw nerves with vicious, unmitigated glee.

Morning classes had been an absolute misery of sensory havoc, his mind distracted and his glazed eyes slipping shut with even more forceful vengeance than usual. His pen had scrawled aimless lines across the blank notebook pages, and even Trein had spared him a pitying glance, not that Silver had realized it, for his flushed cheeks and obvious disorientation.

(Neither had he noticed Kalim's repeated concerned glances, nor the way that his friend kept tapping on his cell phone with a worried twist to his perpetually upturned lips.)

It was little wonder then that as the students streamed in eager droves out of their lecture halls for lunch, Silver chose instead to attempt a shuffling escape towards the Mirror Hall, towards Diasomnia and the promise of a timed catnap in the gloomy embrace of its dark, cool corridors before the rigor of his afternoon classes could begin.

He'd been rather foolish to believe he'd make it there unaided with how the stone floor beneath him started to wink closer, the sinking realization tugging at his stomach that he was beginning to plummet down to meet it without resistance, until a presence unannounced had swooped in by his side.

So focused now on attempting to wrangle his breakfast into submission before it inevitably made a second, less pleasant appearance upon his father's uniform, he hardly notices until too late that the ground has disappeared under his very feet with a swiftness that spares him the nauseous threat. Bleary eyes blink past the invisible weight pressing insistent fingers against them, and Silver manages to find a glimmer of incredulity among all of his slippery, pounding thoughts as he stares up at the fae cradling him in his arms as if he were all of five again— and smiling as pleased as punch, in the middle of the grand hallway no less.

". . . Father— !" he doesn't even think to correct himself as he croaks out the beloved title, utterly at a loss as to what the fae could possibly be thinking. "Father, please, put me down! Someone might see—"

"And see what?" His father's eyes sparkle down at him with mischievous delight, but it is not enough to mask the darker currents of worry that linger there, stealing the rest of the sputtering arguments from Silver's mind. "That I'm caring for my adorable junior classmate as a good vice housewarden should?"

His mouth opens and closes more uselessly than a fish as he stares without a rebuttal at the self-satisfied fae, unable to come up with a worthwhile protest in the sluggish cogs of his mind.

The rambunctious cacophony of their fellow classmates echoes from further down the hall, and Lilia's smile creases into something tender and private, an expression reserved for Silver and Silver alone as those clawed fingertips drift soothingly through his sweaty bangs. There's no magic that glitters from his touch, and yet Silver's eyes find themselves drooping instantly just the same, his head tucking forward to rest against his father's chest where that heartbeat reverberates like a lullaby in his ears.

"Come on, dear— let's get you back to bed."

[babytarttdoodoo]

kind of a rouge prompt idea but “i just told a story at work about my childhood that i thought was really funny but now everyone is super quiet and someone said i’m so sorry” but it’s jamie + the team edition. like he talks about a traumatising James Thing and has no idea how horrifying it is until they’re all like …… wtf

love your writing! <3

Thanks for the prompt (and the lovely compliment)!

I’ll preface this by saying I have next to no knowledge of dentistry and you should not assume any medical assertions made here are correct.

((I also feel like I should add that I finished this one off while more than a little tipsy.))

Enjoy the himbo chaos.

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

“Ay, dios mio, it was terrifying.” Dani put an emphatic hand to his chest. “Earl. He still haunts me.”

“Thought you were over that, bruv.” Isaac frowned up at him from his usual spot on the locker bench.

“On the pitch, yes. But at night…” Dani shook his head mournfully. “I have dreams of being chased in the dark. I know it is him.”

“I used to have dreams like that.” Colin piped up, pausing in tying his laces and looking haunted. “‘Cept it was my nana chasing me, on her mobility scooter.”

A few people sniggered and Isaac clapped Colin’s shoulder. “That’s fucked up.”

“I never remember my dreams,” Sam mused. “But I have always been a very deep sleeper. My father says I was the envy of all other parents when I was a baby.”

“I have only ever had one nightmare.” Richard declared. “All of my beautiful little teeth fell out of my mouth and I was ugly. Who will kiss me if I have no teeth?”

“Who’s losing teeth?” Jamie asked, joining the conversation from the doorway with a furrowed brow.

“We are discussing nightmares,” Jan explained matter-of-factly, then turned back to Richard. “Dreams about losing teeth are commonly attributed to stress.”

Jamie shook his head, still looking confused.

“Nah, don’t get that one, mate. Your dentist can just stick ‘em right back in, can’t they?”

That sparked a round of horrified protests and Jamie flapped his hands like a conductor to quiet the rabble.

“Eh, eh, I’m right!”

“Actually…” Sam held up his phone, open on an NHS webpage. “Jamie is correct.”

The locker room erupted into disgust and outrage while Jamie grinned smugly and tipped his I,COG cap to Sam for the assist.

“Hold on, how did you know that?” Isaac demanded, staring at Jamie like he had two heads. That quietened the team a little as heads swivelled in Jamie’s direction.

“Knocked two of ‘em out when I were, like, 10.” He shrugged and tapped a fingernail against one of his front teeth in demonstration. “Mum’s friend were a dental nurse. Told her to put them in some milk and take me to hospital.”

“You were very lucky.” Sam commented, still scrolling through the information he had found. “A significant gap in your teeth can lead to premature ageing.”

“And what a tragedy that would have been, eh?” Jamie beamed, gesturing to his face. “To think I might have deprived the world of this top tier mug.”

Other players groaned and laughed, a few tossing socks or discarded shirts in Jamie’s direction while he ducked, sniggering.

“How do you know they gave you your real teeth back?” Bumbercatch questioned, with an air that suggested great suspicion of the dentistry profession as a whole.

Jamie considered that. “Fair point,” he conceded. “They feel like mine, though.”

“Wait, how do you even manage to lose two teeth at once?” Colin interjected, muffled by his fingers as he prodded his own mouth in confusion. “I’ve never lost any after my baby teeth.”

“Took a snooker cue to the face.” The team winced as a collective and Jamie nodded sagely. “Were pretty grim. Blood all over the pub floor and everything.”

“You were 10?” Thierry clarified, face scrunched up. “Do kids normally get into bar fights here?”

“Well, yeah, s’pose not.” Jamie shuffled in place, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. “Weren’t a fight so much. Dad took me in to watch a match and it all kicked off a bit.”

An uneasy quiet overtook the general hubbub and more than one face went stony at that revelation.

“Mate.” Jeff looked like he’d rather not be the one probing further, but had bitten the bullet anyway. “Your, uh, your dad wasn’t the one with the pool cue, was he?”

“Eh…” Jamie glanced around the room before answering. “Well, yeah. He was. But I’m, like, 90% sure it were an accident.”

Chaos detonated like a bomb.

Isaac and Richard jumped to their feet, one cursing in French, the other demanding to know how long it would take to get to Manchester. Colin seemed to be googling train times.

Dani had taken to rifling through his bag, looking for god knows what, and Thierry was strapping on his mask like it was war paint (he didn’t even need it anymore, he just liked looking scary).

Jan was a terrifyingly silent pillar in the middle of the storm and Sam… Well, Sam looked like he had been gutted.

“OI!” Roy’s bellow commanded immediate silence, players freezing mid-shout. He was framed by the door to the coaches’ office, arms crossed and typical glare set in place. “What the fuck is going on out here?”

“Close ranks!” Jamie all but squeaked, invoking a hallowed, sacred vow from the team to collectively shut the fuck up.

All eyes turned to Issac who, as captain, had the final say.

On balance, he decided it was probably best that their new manager didn’t get arrested for murder before the season even got underway.

“Agreed.” he finally acquiesced and the whole room affirmed their compliance sullenly. It just wasn’t worth the forfeit to cave in under Roy’s (very effective) glare.

“... right then.” Roy finally allowed, still looking at them all suspiciously. “Then get out on the pitch and stop wasting our time.”

Everyone clamoured towards the tunnel, eager to escape the intense atmosphere. All except Jamie, who was still hurriedly pulling on his kit.

He tried not to seize up when Roy sidled over.

“You’ll tell me later.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question and Jamie knew better than to take it as one. He slumped in defeat.

“Yeah. Probably.”

[beeanca-writing]

That other anon was being an asshole, but I am curious about what you had planned for EfC? Not gonna lie, I'll miss the cast—would be nice to know what happens to who!

I'm still unsure what I'll do with EfC. I might come back to it once this current period of my life is over, though it'd likely be very different. First of all, it'd be a shorter story. I'd either get rid of some of the ROs, or find some way to better integrate them into the narrative (compare Harry, who you can have this huge, important backstory with vs Val, whom I love but is also just some guy, I guess?). It'd also probably be more focused on romance since that's usually what interests me the most in IF anyway.

I also might scrap a lot of it and stick to the storylines that interest me the most—mainly the Harry stuff. A shorter game dealing with The Hedonist returning to Court and having to face Harry sounds really fun to write, and it'd be a lot less complex to plan than this whole mess. Also, Harry is definitely a more developed character than some of the other ROs. For example, I love Camila to death, but she doesn't have much significance in the story other than "The Hedonist's friend" and I was never able to find her some meaning.

I'd also make The Hedonist even more of a fixed character by getting rid of all personality stats and focusing solely on their actions instead of worrying about personality. The stats were all carried over from CoG, and it's never been something I enjoy in their brand of IF. I was going to do this anyway when I first transferred the game to Twine, but stupidly asked Tumblr what they thought and, since most people preferred keeping the stats, I did that even though I didn't really want to.

As for to what would happen to the cast... In case I do come back to EfC, I don't think this would change much, so I'll put it into a read more in case someone doesn't want to know. If anyone has any more questions, don't hesitate to ask!

Grandma would die. Sorry!

Also, Cordelia was The Hedonist's twin who drowned in front of them, but that was a bit obvious, wasn't it? I'd definitely remove that from any rewrites, it's so unnecessary and cliché.

Henry would divorce Elizabeth to be with Nicholas. The Hedonist could either support him on this or not.

Due to the divorce, the rest of the family would be disgraced in Court. Evie's reputation is a little less affected if she's still with Harry.

As I mentioned in the past, The Hedonist can choose whether to stay in Court or not at the end.

The Hedonist and Evie can repair their relationship or not. Evie eventually makes an effort to become friends with The Hedonist, and you could choose whether to play nice or not. If The Hedonist romances Harry and you manage to have a good relationship, she forgives you, but asks for some time away from both The Hedonist and Harry.

I didn't really plan Camila's character arc well. She becomes a Republican rebel and can either still be friends with The Hedonist or have distanced herself a bit if they continue to be an asshole.

Sabina can choose to no longer be a nun if encouraged either by a friend or romanced Hedonist. If you romanced her but didn't encourage her to leave the convent, she dumps you. (Note: You later find out she was forced to become a nun by her family.)

Similarly to Sabina, Narcissa can choose to break things off with the Emperor if, again, encouraged either by a friend or romanced Hedonist.

Calvin's ending is the wildest one, actually. He finds out he's a father after the boy's mother passes away. The Hedonist can either tell him to abandon the boy or tell him to raise him (if Calvin is romanced, they kind of become a step parent).

Val can be encouraged to start studying to become a librarian. Also, his whole thing is that his father is the Emperor lol

Lastly, horse boy Harry will want to divorce Evie if romanced and marry The Hedonist instead. If you refuse to marry him, he divorces her anyway but doesn't stay with The Hedonist. A friend!Harry stays with Evie, I think? I don't know.

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova and Enolio. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova fights to get herself back.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: THIS IS A DARK CHAPTER. It contains violence, mentions of murder, suicide, and torture, death, weapons, and swearing

A/n: i’m sorry this took so long to get out🥲🥲i’m gonna try to update this series more often

Coriolanus felt as if his body was turning to ice. 

He barely managed to refrain from trembling in fear. His life could be ended with a flick of Bellova’s wrist if he didn’t think fast enough. 

He decided against trying to play coy. He knew that would only infuriate her more, and lead to his demise.

“I can explain,” he said as gently as he could. 

Bellova’s cold laughter echoed in his ears, making him shudder in her painfully tight grasp. Her sharp nails dug into his pale complexion, slowly but surely breaking through the first layers of skin.

“I would love to hear your reasoning as to why you thought ruining my life would be a wise choice,” she replied. She was beyond angry, which Coriolanus knew was bad news for him. 

“Where did you get-“

“The knife?” Bellova chuckled lowly, dragging the sharp edge back-and-forth across Coriolanus’s neck, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. “When you took all of the weapons from my room, you didn’t check underneath my bed. I hid a blade tucked in the frame in case of emergencies. And this seemed like a fitting time to use it.”

Coriolanus swallowed. His throat felt like it had been replaced by sandpaper. 

“How did you…become you again?”

“I don’t know. Everything was a blur. I felt like I was pulled out of a fever dream and back to reality.”

Bellova let go of him, only to spin him around and hold her blade right above his heart. “Now, you’re going to explain exactly what the fuck you did to me. The last thing I remember was being stabbed in the neck by a syringe, and collapsing on the floor of your office. Clearly, you took my mind hostage and took control of everything in my life.”

Coriolanus backed up, but Bellova was relentless. She grabbed him by the neck and shoved hard, pressing him up against the wall. Her lips curled into a sneer. 

He had forgotten just how terrifying she could be.

“I deserve an explanation, and I intend to get it. Then, once I’m satisfied, I’m going to kill you, as slowly and painfully as I can.”

Somehow, her violent threat snapped him out of his fearful mindset.

He could easily physically overpower her. He was now stronger than her, thanks to his time as a peacekeeper. During their Academy days, Bellova had prided herself in her physical strength. Though she appeared harmless, with a few well-placed blows, she could bring almost anyone to their knees. He was always envious of that ability, as he couldn’t match it. He was too malnourished to even try.

But now, he was properly fed and had developed a significant amount of muscle during his peacekeeper training. 

He could kill her with his bare hands if he wanted to. 

And right now, he really fucking wanted to.

But he knew it wasn’t the right choice. He had to play her game first.

With faux reluctance, Coriolanus told Bellova everything. How he’d used Dr. Gaul’s serum to alter her mind, how he’d killed her father and taken over the Reginelle family’s resources, how he’d gotten her closest friends arrested. 

He was practically able to see the cogs in her mind working. Her eyes, which once again contained the fierceness that Coriolanus had worked so hard to erase, were filing with angry tears. 

He flinched as he felt his cheek meet the palm of her hand harshly. He wasn’t surprised that she’d slapped him, but it was still irritating. She really was a bitch. 

“You’re a fucking snake, Coriolanus Snow,” she hissed, wrapping one of her hands around his throat and bringing the tip of her knife closer to his heart. “Say goodbye to everything you’ve accomplished, none of it will matter once I’m through with you.”

Bellova raised the blade, ready to begin creating morbid lacerations her “fiancé’s” perfect skin. 

But as her hand came down, Coriolanus reached out and grabbed her wrist, effectively stopping the motion. Before she could squirm away, he ripped the weapon out of her hand. His temper flared, and he shoved her to the hard marble floor, making her cry out in pain. She tried to scramble away, but he was on top of her before she could get back on her feet. 

Bellova opened her mouth to scream, but Coriolanus muffled the noise with his large hand. “Scream again and I’ll end you, you dumb bitch,” he snarled in her face. He grabbed the ends of her hair and tugged harshly, and she let out a quiet whine. She kept squirming wildly, trying to escape him, but she was trapped. He had her pinned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bellova asked, her face flushed with panic and fury. “You’ve already done enough damage, why won’t you just let me be?”

“You know too much,” he sneered, intensifying his grip in her hair. She whimpered, silent tears streaming down her face. “I can’t have you exposing all of my endeavors, it would ruin my reputation and my blossoming career.”

“So you took over my head and ruined my life just to keep me quiet?“

Coriolanus laughed darkly. “You’re acting like you wouldn’t do the same if you were in my shoes.”

“Oh, shut u-“

He didn’t hesitate to smack her across the face, grinning as she cringed from the pain. “Now, my darling fiancée, this can go one of two ways. Either you stop fighting me and accept your fate, or I kill you and tell everyone in the Capitol you committed suicide. Which will it be?”

Bellova looked defeated. Coriolanus smirked, satisfied with the fact that he’d finally gotten his way. 

Then, she spit in his face. 

“I’ll never live under your rule, Snow,” she sneered. “I’d rather die.”

Coriolanus was extremely tempted to use Bellova‘s own knife to torture her slowly, dragging out her pain until her body couldn’t take it anymore. However, he knew that one of the servants or Avoxes in the estate would hear her screams, and he’d be caught red-handed.

So, he settled for knocking her out with a punch to her temple. 

Picking her up, Coriolanus threw her onto the bed unceremoniously. He cursed silently, storming into his closet and pulling on an outfit as quickly as possible. He walked out of the room and hurried down the stairs, throwing on a coat and grabbing his satchel. 

“I’m going to the Citadel. Emergency meeting with Dr. Gaul,” he told Enolio. “Don’t enter Bellova’s room, she’s had a rough night and her sleep must not be disturbed. If I hear that you defied my order, I’ll get you fired. Understood?”

Enolio looked pissed, but nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

Coriolanus rushed out of the building and climbed into one of Bellova’s many family cars before the driver could open the door for him. 

“Take me to the Citadel, get me there as fast as you can.”

The driver gulped, and started the car. Like many of the workers at the Reginelle estate, he got nervous when the Snow heir was around. 

Coriolanus knew he tended to have that effect on people, which he greatly enjoyed. 

He’d never get tired of seeing people’s eyes widen in fear when they realized he was about to end their careers lives.

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

“Dr. Gaul?”

Coriolanus’s voice echoed through the empty lab. The only living beings in sight were mutations, which chirped, hissed, and mewled quietly in their cages.

“Back here, Mr. Snow.”

He followed the doctor’s voice until he spotted her at the very back of the lab. She was staring at a couple of sketched designs, both of which were labeled as mutts to include the next Hunger Games. 

“I need help,” Coriolanus said, hanging his satchel on the back of a chair. “It’s Bellova. She’s back to her old self.”

“And how exactly did that happen?” The doctor’s voice was deadly quiet, making Coriolanus fidget uncomfortably.

“I-I don’t know. I went to go shower, and when I went back to her bedroom, she attacked me with a knife. I knocked her out after a bit of a struggle, and I came here.” 

Dr. Gaul frowned, her horrifying eyes narrowing. “Perhaps she finally was able to fight the altercations the serum made to her mind, and regain control.” 

“Maybe,” Coriolanus said. “But I need to get her back under. I can’t have her telling everyone about…about everything I’ve done.” 

Dr. Gaul sighed, setting down her papers. “Bring her here tomorrow morning. Once she wakes she will undoubtedly be hostile, so you’ll need to threaten her with violence to get her to comply. By the time she arrives in my lab, I will have an experimental room ready specifically to perform tests on her.”

“What tests?“

The doctor grinned crookedly. “We will see if she can be persuaded to behave the way you want. If so, we can keep her off the serum. But if not, we will keep her here until I develop a new formula that will keep her mind malleable and vulnerable, allowing you to have full control.”

“And what if neither of those work?”

Dr. Gaul shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Then we will dispose of her. We can’t have anything getting in the way of your success, can we, Mr. Snow?”

Coriolanus smirked. 

“No, we certainly can’t.” 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! It may take me a bit to write the next chapter, and the story will start having longer, more frequent time skips, because we’ll be getting into Coriolanus’s career as a Gamemaker, and then his transition into politics.

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!