#your friendly reminder that this is a thing that just...exists?

[enmi-land]

#000. PART ONE TEASER

𝓘.──── . . . 𝑀𝗂𝗅𝖺, 𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌.

꒰ NOTE ✦ Sorry for the wait but the teaser is finally here! Also, for the sake of the Milaverse, we’re pretending that the COVID lockdown either doesn’t exist, or is over by the beginning of 2022. (It’s up to you which one it is.)

✉️ XO ⸝ MiLA ❪ TEASER ❫ ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ EVENTUAL POLY!OT⑧ 𓈃 TEASER WORD COUNT : 3.4k (FiNAL WORD COUNT : 5-10k) ꗃ ❛ KOR, ENG, JP, CHi ❜ 𝅄CONTAINS. alcohol, jealousy, minor angst, mila is a brat and a bitch (she gets better i promise)

𝓵etters to you. 𓆩♡𓆪 i ⋆ ii ⋆ iii ⋆ iv . . ,

IF FALLING IN LOVE IS SUPPOSED TO HURT, Mila wishes that cupid would have just shot her in the head and not the heart. 

All of Mila’s childhood crushes feel like child’s play compared to this. This ache in the centre of her chest—the tight squeeze around her heart, as if someone’s hand is her ribcage and has their fist wrapped around it. And what did she expect? It’s such a foolish thing to do—falling in love. She knows this.

But like a fool, she fell anyway.

The night has no life left to it—or at least none that Mila can find anyway. The alcohol tastes bitter and even the sound of her upbeat girl group songs in the background doesn’t make it any sweeter.

Mila ignores a warning from Kiara beside her and drinks another glass of soju. The older female has been on her case the entire dinner, and—to spare Mila the impending hangover tomorrow morning, and the embarrassment of anything she may do in her drunken state—has been valiantly attempting to limit the amount of alcohol she consumes.

A difficult undertaking when Mila is determined to drink until she can’t even remember her own name.

Tonight was supposed to be a good one. The collaboration she and Kiara participated in with a senior girl group, Lumine, is sure to bring fresh eyes to their group, and the dinner they were invited to by the said girl group was meant as a friendly way to celebrate their joint success.

She should have known there would be ulterior motives involved.

Mila had eagerly invited her male co-members (the legal ones, anyway, considering there were drinks involved) upon their suggestion, and realised too late that it had been for their own interests rather than Mila and Kiara’s, like they originally said. The Lumine members were all too happy to latch on to them, giggling and batting their eyelashes at them like they were innocent schoolgirls acting coy around their crush.

Well, they’re much too old to be schoolgirls—and much too old for her members. Not that it stopped them from eyeing them like candy.

“You didn’t mention how handsome your members are,” one of them had said upon their arrival. As if Enhypen aren’t idols whose photos are all over the internet, and as if they didn’t suggest inviting them to this dinner so they could have a chance to talk to them.

But that doesn’t seem to matter too much, since most of her male co-members were flattered enough by their extra attention to indulge their flirting more than they’re obligated to.

Well, good for them. At least they’re having fun.

Mila flips a piece of pork on the ignored grill in front of her, and stuffs it into her mouth without caring if it will burn her tongue or not. It tastes burnt, but it’s not like she’s eating for the flavour anymore. Any reminders her manager might have given her about maintaining her diet are lost to her right now.

She can always burn it off in the gym later, just as she always has. This thing she’s feeling in her chest, however, is a different kind of burn than she’s used to.

“You must like going to the gym often,” Mila hears Yerin, the visual of the group, say. “I can tell.”

Mila braves a glance in the older woman’s direction and sees her looking Sunghoon up and down appreciatively. And she can’t blame her. The gains from his hours in the gym can’t be hidden even by the jacket he wears.

Mila has to say, though, that she does envy Yerin in a way. She may not be a traditional visual, but her siren-like gaze is nothing short of hypnotic. The confidence which she can voice her appreciation is something Mila wishes she could have.

Sunghoon clears his throat to mutter a shy, “Thanks.”

Mila doesn’t realise she’s staring so intently until he looks up and catches her gaze, the small smile on his face freezing slightly at whatever expression she’s wearing. She quickly looks down at her cup again, avoiding the questioning look he sends. Instead she eats a small piece of kimchi, chewing on it longer than it needs to be as a weak attempt to seem busy.

Mila decides to tune out of that conversation, before she overhears something she doesn’t want to.

Mila can see Jake stand from the corner of her eye. His seat is between her and Jay, but despite being close, they haven’t had much conversation tonight. So she certainly doesn’t expect him to suddenly lean in close, overwhelming her senses with the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his warm breath on her cheek.

“Did you want anything?” he asks in a whisper.

Mila can feel the way her cheeks start to warm, and shakes her head rapidly to hide them from him. “I’m good.”

She hadn’t even registered his question. Not until there are other voices piping up.

“Thanks again, Jaeyun-ah,” Yui says with a smile. It’s clear that she’s the youngest because she has no difficulty adding a cutesy lilt to her voice. Even more impressive, she actually manages to make it sound natural, and not at all cringey or forced.

Mila almost flinches at the casual use of Jake’s name. It’s been a long time since she’s called him that herself, but only because no one else did, and she didn’t want to be too familiar. Even now that they’re in the same group, she still doesn’t dare call him ‘Jaeyun.’ She didn’t realise he had allowed their seniors to call him that.

“No problem,” he replies. He turns to Mila. “I’ll be back.”

“Mkay,” she mutters.

He’s wearing that smile that never fails to make her stomach twist into knots, and then he’s gone, leaving to do whatever it is that Yui and her unnies convinced him to do. At the same time, Kiara is standing up as well, before leaning down to Mila.

“I’m getting a call, so I’ll just be outside, okay?” Mila nods. Then Kiara is gone, and she’s all alone, feeling like a child at the adult’s table as she looks around her.

Heeseung’s seat is empty, since he left to go to the bathroom not long ago. The others have gone back to conversing as if she’s not there, and then Mila is back to looking down at her bowl of rice in front of her, wondering why she’s even here to begin with.

Being the Gen-Z’er that she is, Mila’s first instinct is to reach for her phone. As if by god’s timing, the screen lights up and she sees a text from Sunoo, who had to pass on her invitation because of prior arrangements with family.

(Thank goodness for it. Mila is already struggling as things are; she doesn’t think she’d be able to handle any of the Lumine members making moves on her soulmate, too.)

心肝☀️: how’s the dinner going?

Mila can’t bring herself to tell the truth, so she lies instead.

You: it’s okay You: all the adults are talking so i just left for a bit  心肝☀️: sorry byeol-ah 心肝☀️: i wish i could be there You: it’s okay You: hope you had a good night with your family ^.^ 心肝☀️: it was good! i’ll tell you more about it later 心肝☀️: i’m in the taxi now 心肝☀️: apparently we’re going to go past the restaurant you’re at

Mila perks up at this.

You: if that’s the case do you want to go home together??

It may be selfish and rude, but it’s better than being here.

心肝☀️: of course!!! 心肝☀️: but don’t you want to go stay back? 心肝☀️: i thought you liked lumine-sunbaenim ㅇㅁㅇ

Right. Mila mentally scoffs. That was before the disaster of tonight.

You: i’m just feeling a bit tired ㅠㅠ You: i’ll ask kiara-unnie as well You: she looked like she wanted to go home the whole time ㅋㅋ

That at least is true. Kiara was much quicker to realise the Lumine members’ intentions and acted accordingly, checking her phone every five minutes to see how much time would pass. 

心肝☀️: okay sounds good 心肝☀️: i should be there around five minutes You: see you soon! ^.^

Mila pockets her phone. 

She jolts when she feels a hand on her knee. When she looks up, those dark eyes of Jay’s hold a glimmer of concern. Mila instantly relaxes.

“You haven’t eaten much,” he observes—which Mila finds strange, since she feels like she’s eaten more than she should have, considering the weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Are you okay? Do you not like the food?”

Mila shakes her head strongly. She musters a smile, though it must seem pathetic. “No, it’s good! I think I’m just not that hungry…”

“Well, that won’t do at all!” Jingyi, the only Chinese member of Lumine, perks up and places a piece of meat in Mila’s bowl. “Growing girls like you should eat more.”

Mila blinks at the piece of meat, which feels like it's looking back at her tauntingly. “Thanks, Jingyi-jie,” she mutters. Even though I stopped growing a year ago…

“You’ve been drinking a lot, too,” Sara, the oldest Lumine member, continues. “You’re still young, you shouldn’t overdo it.”

Mila feels her lip twitch. Just how young do they think she is?

It’s already bad enough that fans still don’t see her as the adult that she is now. (She’ll forever be their baby, according to them.) But if others continue to treat her like she’s still a child, then won’t her members do the same? And that’s the last thing she wants.

Mila already has to sit here and watch the Lumine members flirt with them, she’d rather choke on the meat Jingyi gave her than endure mothering from the men she’s literally head over heels in love with.

“Sara-sunbae is right.” Jay frowns, and Mila gets the foreboding feeling that he’ll do that thing he does where he frets over her. It had been cute once, but that was before she realised she wanted him to see her as a woman, and not the same fifteen-year-old girl he’s looked out for four years now. 

Sara chuckles. “You can just call me ‘Noona.’ ‘Sunbae’ sounds too formal. And Mila here is like a little sister to me, it’s only right I get along with her oppas.”

Sara then lays a hand on Jay’s shoulder, looking too friendly to be wanting to just ‘get along,’ and the sight of it has Mila clenching a first under the table.

Heeseung chooses that exact moment to return, and slips into his seat next to Ria, the leader of Lumine. He spares a smile at the older woman, before looking at the empty spots next to Mila.

“Where are Jaeyun and Kyunghee?” he asks Jay. But habit, he uses both Jake and Kiara’s Korean names.

“Noona went to answer a phone call, and Jake went to grab something for Yui-sunbae—”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Yui tuts. “It’s ‘Noona’ to you, remember?”

She then laughs in the way that shows just how tipsy she is, and almost falls over if not for Sunghoon reaching out to steady her by placing an arm around her bicep.

“Please be careful,” he says politely, before retracting his hand. But then she topples over and ends up leaning on his shoulder.

“Yah, Yui,” Ria scolds, “Don’t be embarrassing. Sunghoon, please don’t mind her. If she makes you uncomfortable just push her off.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “No, no, it’s okay—I don’t mind.”

Mila bits her lip. She quickly looks away and catches Heeseung’s gaze instead. Or at least tries to. He doesn’t really spare her any looks during this dinner—or at all, really.

It’s one of those things that Mila has just learnt to deal with. The kind and caring Heeseung she’s known since trainee days is still there, but into in the way she’s used to. She doesn’t know exactly what’s changed, but there’s definitely something different in their relationship. It’s much more awkward, much more distant.

“Mila, do you want some of the pork?” Jingyi asks, just as Mila hastily eats the meat she gave her before.

Heeseung replies before Mila can. “You should eat some, too. Here.”

Heeseung piles a piece of pork onto Jingyi’s bowl, and Mila pettily thinks that he didn’t do anything of the sort for her. But then, she’s the one who wants them to treat her less like a dongsaeng, isn’t she? Perhaps she’s getting what she wanted, after all. 

“Ah, thank you.” Jingyi gives a stunning smile, and Mila has a sudden thought that she resembles someone very familiar.

Then it clicks. Of course.

One would think Heeseung would be over his ex-girlfriend by now, but considering how long they had been together, she supposes it’s not too far fetched to think he would look for her in everything he does, even two years after they’ve broken up. It was no secret that the man’s entire world revolved around her.

Mila is willing to bet he still has the bracelet she gave him, too.

She reaches for a drink before the soju bottle is taken away from her sight. She blinks as she looks at Sara.

“Mila, you should slow down a bit,” she chides. “Here have some water.”

Mila feigns a smile. She doesn’t want water, she wants alcohol, damn it! “It’s fi—!”

“No, she’s right.” Mila looks at Heeseung in surprise. He’s looking at her sternly. A huge contrast to how he’s been looking at the Lumine members—or anyone for that matter—since the dinner started. “Don’t overdo it. You have a schedule tomorrow.”

No, because what the hell is his problem? He’s been giving her hot and cold treatment for the past month or so, and has been doing fine at pretending she’s not here tonight. But when he does decide to address her, it’s to chastise her in front of everyone?

Mila frowns. “I know my limits. I’ll be fine.”

Is this really the right time and place to be giving into her pent-up frustrations and showing attitude? No. But she’s not exactly in the right mind to be rational.

“It’s not a good look if you turn up with a hangover,” Heeseung says, firmer.

“I’ve been fine without you supervising me in the past,” Mila snaps. “I don't need your advice.”

There’s a tense silence. Heeseung rolls his jaw, and gives her The Look. Mila glares back like the petulant brat she knows she’s being, and ignores his face to call the staff over for another drink.

Heeseung lets out a deep sigh, and Jingyi looks at him from the corner of her eye, not sure what to make of the sudden shift in mood. Yerin has a hesitant smile on her face. But the older woman quickly regains composure and clears her throat. “Well, it looks like we’re running low on meat—I’ll call over the staff to get us some more.”

Sunghoon furrows his eyebrows and nudges Mila’s foot discreetly. He mouths, ‘What’s with you?’

What’s with her?

What’s with her?

Mila doesn’t even know how to begin to answer that question. She can feel her blood start to rush beneath her skin, and she doesn’t even know the reason why.

She’s annoyed, she’s mad—but she feels like crying at the same time. 

Maybe there really is something wrong with her. But, well, she should have realised that after falling for not one, not two, but seven people at the same time.

Jay furrows his eyebrows. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jake returns at that very second, holding a woman’s jacket in his hand. “I got your jacket, Yui-sunbae.”

The said woman beams up at Jake and receives it gratefully. “Thank you, Jaeyun. Sorry to bother you.”

“That’s okay—woah!” Jaeyun sweeps in with a heroic catch as Yui stumbles on her feet in an attempt to put her jacket on. “Be careful!”

Yui simply giggles drunkenly and pats Jaeyun on the chest. “You’re so strong, wahhh...”

Mila’s lips are pressed into a thin line. Now this is getting too much for her liking. She doesn’t hear anything else that’s being said, because she’s trying to calm down the emotions that poke and prod at her from the inside, begging to be let out in the ugliest way possible.

Mila doesn’t care. She can’t be in this room anymore.

She suddenly stands from her seat, drawing all eyes at the table to her. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

She storms off. She almost bumps into a woman leaving the bathroom and spares a thin, but hopefully friendly, smile before she goes right to the stall at the very end, and locks herself inside.

The alcohol does not pair well with the boiling jealousy in her gut, and she finds herself hunched over the toilet seat, throwing up every bit of food she’s had in the last hour. It’s not a pretty sight. She’s lurching, her shoulders shaking and her eyes watery as bile burns the back of her throat.

Mila may be dramatic, but this might possibly be the worst night ever. 

She has to drag herself out of the stall and towards the sink, where she grimaces at her reflection. So much for being a visual, she thinks. She looks like the average college student after a night of no sleep, three cans of coffee, and a simmering desire to just quit everything and work on a remote farm for nothing more than sleeping quarters and food.

She takes a deep breath as she observes her reflection. Her visuals have always been praised by netizens for seeming so youthful and refreshing, yet she can’t help but feel that everything about her feels too…girlish. The baby fat on her cheeks, the roundness of her eyes, and just her look in general.

Mila reaches up to the back of her head and plucks the white satin bow that she used to pin up half her hair. She shakes her head, allowing the black strands to fall in waves around her face. She turns the bow over in her hands and bites the inside of her cheek. 

She sighs. It’s not like getting rid of the bow will make her look any more mature, considering she’s been acting like a brat. As she thinks back to her petty remarks, she starts to feel belated embarrassment creep under her skin.

I’m so pathetic, Mila bemoans as she shakes her hands dry at the sink. Why did I say that?

Mila is so caught up in her thoughts she doesn’t notice Kira until she almost bumps into her on the way out of the bathroom. She decides to tell the older female about her conversation with Sunoo over text, only to find that Kiara already had a similar idea.

“Apparently the Lumine manager had to go home all of a sudden for an emergency and asked our manager to help drop them back off to their dorms.”

Well, Mila can’t be upset over that. She’s aware of just how dangerous the world is for women. As much as she was annoyed by the Lumine members tonight, she wouldn’t wish any harm on them.

Their manager, Juri, finds the girls and discusses a quick plan away from the others.

“Okay, if Mila goes with Sunoo I’ll worry less,” Juri says. “Then I can take Kiara and the Lumine members, and the boys can take taxis home when they’re done.”

“Okay, then that settles it.” Kiara gestures to Mila. “When will Sunoo get here?”

Mila quickly takes her phone out of her pocket. She opens the most recent message from Sunoo. “He said he’s pulling up now.” She types a quick reply and turns to leave. “I’ll go meet up with him—you tell the others about the plan.”

“Yah!” Kiara reprimands as she speeds off. “You should say goodbye to the others, first!”

Mila waves a hand in dismissal over her head. “It’s fine. They won’t even notice I’m gone.”

She doesn’t know whether to be grateful or sad about that.

taglist⠀( OPEN ! ) ⦂ @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars @tommina @queenriki7 @onlyuyu @enhaverse713586

[sixhours]

Pedro Pascal in "For All the Lovesick Mad Sad Geniuses" by Ngozi Anyanwu

[sunsetsimon]

at the beginning of your relationship, simon is not used to physical affection. his body just exists, only being touched by someone else while receiving a friendly bump from soap or while in combat. he's naturally on guard, feeling uncomfortable with people behind him or when they stand too close.

so once you start dating, it doesn't immediately occur to him that he should be touching you sometimes. no hugs when your date ends, no cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, no kisses when it's just the two of you. the actions are unnatural to him, having to teach himself to be okay with touch. and he won't realize it unless you tell him, explaining how one of the things you need in a relationship is to be able to be physically attached.

it's a big learning curve for him to accept it. not that he doesn't like it, or yearn for it even, it's just not anything he was allowed to have. so he flinches, reeling his arm away from you when you grab it to catch his attention, or pulling his knee closer into himself when you brush each other on the couch. and it hurts you, constantly feeling rejected and like he doesn't want you as more than just company. you have to remind yourself it isn't easy for him, but that doesn't make it easier on you.

but oh, does simon yearn for touch. though he may jump and pull away, those small touches mean so much to him. he catches himself thinking about it on his sleepless nights, remembering your touch from earlier and fantasizing about what it'd be like to have you laying next to him right now. to have his head on your chest, huge body tucked against yours, shorter legs entwined with his under the sheets. would you play with his hair? running your fingers through the short blond strands, giving that small tug that could make his eyes roll back?

and although it's a challenge, he works really hard on it with you. beginning to let his knee rest against yours, pulling your hand into his lap to hold, giving you a tight hug before he leaves for the night. he loves the way you get so excited each time, feeling your palms get sweaty when he grabs your hand or your body melting into him when he embraces you. positive association with touch is what he needs, and you give it to him perfectly.

so once he gets comfortable, you can't keep the guy off of you! he's pulling you into him for a wet kiss as soon as you let him in, pushing you into the wall beside your front door because he just can't wait any longer. sometimes he picks you up and carries you around just cause he can, loving the way you squeal and grip onto his shirt as he carries you to bed. si automatically assumes cuddle positioning any time he gets onto the couch, not having to say anything to get you to crawl into his burly arms, holding you there until he decides you can go.

his favorite thing though, is when you touch him. the unexpectedness of it, the feeling of being wanted, desired, needed, he can't get enough. constant butterflies erupt in his stomach when you reach for him, pulling him closer to you because it feels better that way. saying 'i want you close' without words.

poor si nearly passed out the first time you back hugged him, slipping your arms under his shirt to caress the soft pale skin of his tummy. he's ticklish too, so don't push too far or he's going to be throwing you onto the bed for a tickle attack!

it takes him a bit to warm up, but once he does, you'll never go without his touch for too long. so you better not keep your touch from him either, he doesn't take the feeling of rejection from you well. he really is an amazing boyfriend <3

[awxcoffeexno]

ain't gon' ever deserve you

mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot

fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship

summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.

content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.

warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.

you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.

eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.

you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.

"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.

"logan–"

"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.

victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.

you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.

"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.

he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.

"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.

"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.

"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."

he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.

"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.

he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.

"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.

you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."

"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.

how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–

"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."

"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.

you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.

"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."

"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."

"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."

he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.

you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."

"sweetheart..."

"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.

he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.

not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.

"you felt that?"

you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.

"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.

you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.

he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."

that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.

"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.

"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."

you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.

his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.

"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.

despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.

"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."

and that finally makes him crack a smile again.

"y'think so?"

"mhmm."

"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.

he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.

he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.

ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.

"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.

you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.

he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.

logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.

"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."

you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.

you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."

his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."

you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."

you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.

"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."

you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.

"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."

his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.

you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.

you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.

logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.

"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."

his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.

"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"

you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.

you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.

he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."

for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."

you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.

he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.

he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.

you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.

--

this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!

hope you liked this x

love, d <3

--

edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 3 )

<<< Part 2 , Part 4 >>>

Relationship: Fluff

Warning : Hurt/comfort

Character focused : Catnap, Fem! Reader

Plot : Even though you manage to win Catnap's favour through treats

A/n : As a reminder, Catnap is Theo who is a 7 year old child during this period. He's the youngest out of all Smiling Critters in my headcanon since he was the last smiling critter to be shown by MOB!

"Here's your treat for the day! You did even better than before, I'm proud of you!"

Catnap has been doing quite well recently. Giving him rewards after he did his job does the trick pretty well.

Guess one way to someone's heart is through food was a thing after all.

Catnap sits there as he stares at the food you've given him.

You were busy looking through your clipboard to even notice that the feline hasn't left his spot.

Catnap always questioned himself, why do you care about him?

Almost all the staff here ignore him completely as if he never exists, except you.

He is considered as a troublesome mascot to deal with, even before he was Catnap.

Just why....?

Why do you waste your time on him when you can focus on other mascots?

Catnap likes how you treated him. You were gentle as the others had said.

You finally notice the purple feline hasn't left the room, usually Catnap would slip away immediately after he gets his treat and eat it somewhere else.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"...."

Catnap only looks down on you with those beady white eyes, before tilting his head slightly.

The feline mascots got on all four without breaking eye contact with you, he leans his face close to you and says.

"Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do....you care about me.......?"

You quirk an eyebrow at his questions, yes his file did said he was troublesome but why did he ask such a question?

"It's simple, it's my job to take care of each one of you. Not only just that, I want to be your friend!"

"You....want to be my...friend?"

"Yeah!"

The only close friend he had was Dogday and The Prototype, he wasn't that close to the other Smiling Critters since they rarely interact with him.

But the idea of having a new friend makes him happy.

He has a new friend. Catnap picks you up by surprise and holds you high up in the air.

Your body went stiff as you cling onto the mascot's paws for dear life. You weren't used to being picked up by the mascots yet. You're 20 ft in the air!

"You are my friend now...."

Catnap said with a wide smile on his face with his tail standing up straight behind him.

He feels very happy!

From that day, Catnap would sneak around to see you and to cuddle with you.

Every time you scratch under his chin, the feline would purr very loudly and you swore that it would cause the entire office to shake.

Sometimes Catnap would be a menace and push things off the desk just to mess with you.

There is one time you decide to play peek-a-boo with the feline mascot, which turns out to be horrifying and Catnap would get closer every time you take a peek.

But it was a fun game.

Catnap mostly spends his day in your office, with him curling around your desk and has his tail wrapped around your leg, so you couldn't go anywhere while he's asleep.

"Catnap...I need to go to the bathroom..."

"....."

"Catnap, please"

Don't get you started when you caught him trying to fit himself in a small box. It was hilarious and cute at the same time.

Like Dogday said, Catnap is a friendly and sweet cat.

Seeing how he acts around you reminds you of your days in the orphanage. Yes, you were once an orphan, seeing these smiling critters reminded you of the younger orphans that you used to take care of. The way they act brings up old memories in your mind.

You wish to see them but the orphanage you once lived in no longer exists due to financial problems just a year after you were dismissed.

The residents around the place told you that they were moved to someplace else, which the location remained unknown.

You hoped that they were able to find a perfect home and have loving families.

TIMESKIP

You're looking through the files, you have done with all the Smiling Critters except for Catnap....

Your supervisor doesn't let you check on him for a reason.

In his file, Catnap is stated as 'Dangerous' and only a high-class personnel is able to do a maintenance check on him.

You always wonder why though....

They would bring him somewhere and return him to the playcare a week later, he would come back looking exhausted and malnourished.

His fur isn't as soft as the other critters, it was rough and matted, sometimes you could smell the scent of burned....flesh on him and also a hint of blood too.

Also, Catnap always has new wounds on his body. Especially his wrists and chest area, like he was prodded by something. Which worries you a lot, what did the higher ups have done to him?

Once the playcare is closed down for the night, you sneak into his hidden room so you could give him a proper treatment.

"It's alright, just rest as much as you can"

"It hurts..."

"I know, I'll do as much as I can to make the pain stop. I-I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything to help you, I wish I could've done more...."

It was heart wrenching to see Catnap this way, his head is huddled close to your body as he seeks comfort in your embrace.

The sound of his weak purr was the only thing that fills the silence in the small room.

After 6 months working for the Playcare you came to realize that these smiling critters are able to bleed....

Pickypiggy cut herself up when she was using the knife during one of her cooking sessions on her stage. Poor Picky bleeds a lot from the cut and you had to stitch her up and bandage her wound.

You had a suspicition that the higher ups are hiding something, something sinister and dark. You had asked some of your coworkers/seniors about it but they just dismissed you.

Saying that you grew TOO attached to these mascots and start to see them as real people.

The sudden shift of Catnap brings you out from your deep thoughts.

"Can you sing me....a lullaby, my star....."

"Of course"

A/n : I added a little of Reader's lore here :D. Thank you for enjoying the chapters so far!

I have a headcanon for the smiling critters which is—

That they don't remember about their previous lives as a human until 'The Hour of Joy' happens, the only Smiling Critters that are aware of it is Catnap/Theo himself.

So, after 'The Hour of Joy' happens, the smiling critters start to remember their past lives and from the moment they become more aware of their existence and barely clinging on the last bit of sanity they have left.

[batshit-auspol]

have we talked about the woolworths debacle yet?

Sigh.

Alright kids strap in, because the culture wars are back and stupider than ever.

So there are two characters you need to be familiar with in this story before we continue:

Woolies (i.e. Woolworths) - One of two supermarket chains in Australia. Not related to the giant Woolworths chain that used to exist overseas, other than the Aussie one swiped the name because the original forgot to trademark the name 'Woolworths' here. Biggest company in Aus, and also the biggest employer. Not a brand anyone with more than two braincells would pick a fight with.

Peter Dutton - Man with less than two braincells, and current leader of the political opposition in Australia. Best known for bearing a passing resemblance to a potato and once demanding that a homophobic song get played for balance when a football halftime show performed 'Same Love'. His reputation is so bad that if you told an Australian that Dutton's favorite pastime was drowning puppies, they probably would believe you.

And to prove our point, here's the best headline a friendly newspaper could come up with to try spin his image:

The third thing you need to know is that in Australia we have a national holiday called "Australia Day" which is basically a scheduled day for everyone to get into a giant argument.

This is because for the last 30ish years it has been held on the anniversary of the British claiming the land around Sydney as a colony which was:

a) More the founding of an English prison then the founding of Australia, and more importantly

b) from the perspective of the people who were already living here, kindof a very shit day

Now not everyone agrees on this, and even those that don't 'celebrate' will often still have a get together with friends, but it can't be denied that we've shifted a long way from the days when the country used to celebrate Australia Day by kitting ourselves out in Aussie flag budgie smugglers, drinking enough beer to drown Harold Holt, and partying like it's 1789.

(Now a brief break for a real photo of Peter Dutton at a press conference)

Good luck sleeping tonight. Anyway back to the story.

As a result of this shift away from the trend of showing your patriotism by wearing Australian flag underpants, this year Woolworths decided that they were no longer going to be rolling out their box of southern cross thongs - on the grounds that "this kitschy shit never sells" and they are far too busy with more important things like blaming price gouging on inflation and installing self-checkout machines that think your canvas bag is a crime against humanity.

Never a man to miss an opportunity to act like a massive twat, upon hearing that Woolies had dumped their flag merch, Peter Dutton rushed onto the airwaves to declare that Woolworths had "gone woke" (paging 4chan circa 2009) and called for the country to boycott the store, a story which Australia's media have gleefully put on loudhale for over a week now in order to drive outrage clicks.

We at this point remind you that Woolworths is a company which, as we previously mentioned, basically has a monopoly on selling food in this country. Not exactly something you can boycott.

(Another real Dutton photo break)

Needless to say Dutton's dumbass plan did not immediately put Woolies out of business, however the relentless media campaign by Rupert Murdoch's minions did result in a bunch of innocent low-wage floor staff being harrassed by The Dark Lord's fanboys and a few Woolies stores were graffitied.

Allegedly being the 'free market' guy, Dutton also kindof snookered himself by demanding the free market not decide the fate of Australia day, but logic was never one of his strong suits.

Anyway, in the end we're just going to keep having this dumb circular argument every year, fulled by a media who love fanning the flames, until a politician has the guts to shift the date to May 8 (pronounced m8), and everyone promptly forgets this was ever a thing.

All in all, that's the long and the short of it. As a final touch we'll leave you with this real tweet by Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, in all its batshit glory.

We look forward to the absolute dumpster fire of comments this post is going to generate - as is the Australia Day tradition.

[uncanny-tranny]

Periodic reminder from your friendly neighbourhood gymbro: The work you put in will come back. If you modify your workouts, the reward will still come to you.

So do knee pushups (no, we're not calling them "girl pushups"). Do weight machines. Put the resistance or weight low on machines.

The reward of fitness still benefits you because fitness is not a punishment. It should never be used or seen as a punishment for existing. Fitness is just... part of existence for many of us. However your fitness looks is fine. Don't let the broader fitness culture tell you that you need to do things their way. You'll be fine with what you're doing. If you stop needing modifications as you start doing more intense workouts, great! But if you never stop using modifications, then that's fine because fitness isn't a punishment or admittance of failure.

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ PEOPLE YOU KNOW ♡·˚

— [♡] ; the name "gojo satoru" felt foreign and awkward on your tongue after months of calling him "gojo-sensei" ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: fated feud, fem!reader, betrayal, angst, found family, trust issues, dark past, second chances, clan rivalry, hopeful ending, gojo collecting traumatized students 101.

wc. 5K

You were never supposed to know peace.

From the moment you took your first breath, your fate had been sealed by those who surrounded you, hands already stained with the blood of generations lost to the Gojo clan’s power. You were born into a cage made of their ambitions and hatred, their fear of Gojo’s supremacy shaping you into a tool—a weapon crafted for a singular purpose.

“Your life isn’t your own,” they reminded you, again and again, in the cold, dark halls of your clan’s compound. Each bruise, each scar you bore from training was a reminder of that truth. You weren’t meant to live beyond your mission; you weren’t meant to become anything more than the one thing they needed: Gojo Satoru’s downfall.

Day after day, you were sharpened. They taught you everything, everything but the chance at a life free from their shadow. Theories upon theories of how Gojo’s Infinity could be pierced, how his Six Eyes could be blinded, flooded your lessons. Every possibility was drilled into you, every failure punished. You learned to move silently, to breathe in the malice they planted deep inside of you.

They made you believe this was all you were ever good for.

The clan elders whispered of his power like a dark omen. His Infinity—a barrier no one could cross—and the Six Eyes, those cursed techniques that made him untouchable. You were to be the antithesis to all that. Where others had failed, you were supposed to succeed. They stripped you of your name, your identity. You were nothing but the weapon to strike at the untouchable.

“Gojo Satoru,” they would say, the syllables laced with bitterness. “He will fall. You will make him fall.”

But no matter how hard they drilled those words into you, a part of you—buried deep beneath the years of pain and manipulation—questioned whether you were truly capable of such a feat. Whether you were capable of anything beyond being a mere vessel for their hatred.

Infinity. Six Eyes. Words that loomed large in your life, despite never having encountered him in person. It was always about him. From your earliest memories, they drilled it into your head—he is invincible, untouchable. Your existence, they claimed, was the only thing that might tilt the balance. You had no identity beyond that.

When the time finally came, they sent you to Jujutsu High. After all, what better way to study the enemy than from within? Months of training culminated in this infiltration, hidden under the guise of a normal student.

But it wasn’t like what you imagined.

You thought he’d be different—distant, cold, untouchable like the legends described him. But Gojo Satoru was nothing like the stories.

On your first day, you felt his presence before you even saw him, his energy radiating through the hallways like the sun at high noon. It was overwhelming, suffocating even, but not in the way you had expected. You anticipated his aura to be a fortress of power, a wall you’d have to break through. Instead, it was na aura of warmth. He was... bright.

You wanted to hate him. You tried to maintain your focus, to remember the cruel purpose that had been etched into your bones since birth. But how could you, when he was so... friendly? His smile was disarming, his laugh loud and full of life. And the way he treated everyone—not just his students but even you, the supposed weapon sent to destroy him—was effortless. Casual, like he had no idea of the burden you carried.

“Hey, you must be the new kid!” Gojo’s voice had snapped you out of your thoughts on your first day. He tilted his head down slightly, even though he was much taller. Those eyes—those cursed Six Eyes, hidden behind his blindfold—seemed to pierce right through you. “What’s your name?”

Your name. Something so simple, yet you hesitated. The response you gave was mechanical, devoid of feeling, as you introduced yourself. Every syllable was heavy with the weight of your mission, the expectation of your entire clan on your shoulders.

But Gojo’s grin didn’t falter. “Well, welcome to Jujutsu High! We’re a pretty small group here, so I’m sure we’ll get to know each other real well.” He said, as though he had no clue who you were, what you were meant to be.

It was frustrating. Infuriating, even. Every interaction was supposed to bring you closer to understanding him, to finding a weakness. Instead, all it did was throw you into confusion. How could someone so powerful also be so... human? You were meant to tear him down, to be the undoing of this untouchable figure, yet it was him who was breaking you. Not with force, but with kindness.

He was too bright. Too... Gojo.

Days turned into weeks, and still, you struggled to reconcile the man before you with the target etched into your soul. The more you saw of him, the harder it became to remind yourself of your mission. He laughed at your awkward attempts to avoid his attention, teasing you playfully when you stammered through conversations. At times, you caught yourself almost enjoying it—almost forgetting.

But you couldn’t forget. You weren’t allowed to forget.

Your nights were sleepless, haunted by the faces of your clan, the cold voices of the elders reminding you of why you were there. You were their weapon, their creation. You had no right to lose focus. Yet, every time you closed your eyes, it wasn’t your mission that plagued you. It was him—Gojo, with his blinding smile and easy demeanor.

How were you supposed to fight someone who didn’t even seem to care that you were a threat?

Weeks passed at Jujutsu High, and despite your best efforts to keep your distance, you found yourself inexorably drawn into Gojo’s orbit. It wasn’t by choice, not really. He was just… everywhere. He seemed to appear out of thin air—his boundless energy always circling around you, pulling you into conversations, dragging you into group training sessions, or forcing you to spar when all you wanted was to retreat and focus.

“Hey, kiddo!” Gojo’s voice rang out from across the courtyard, cutting through the calm morning air like na explosion of sunlight. You tensed, the instinct to brace yourself for his overwhelming presence kicking in as you glanced over your shoulder. There he was, in all his glory, strolling over with that easy smile plastered on his face.

Kiddo. He’d taken to calling you that almost immediately. You hated how casual and comfortable it sounded, as though you were just some other student—just another kid under his care.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t be.

“Gojo-sensei,” you replied, your voice stiffer than you intended. His name felt awkward in your mouth, even now. Every time you addressed him, you could hear the echo of your elders reminding you of who he was—not a teacher, not a mentor, but the man you were destined to defeat. Still, the way he grinned at you made it feel like you were just one of his students. Nothing more.

“You seem tense,” he remarked, his voice playful as he folded his arms and cocked his head to the side. “Training too hard? You’re not supposed to carry the weight of the world, you know. Leave that to the old guys.” He winked, knowing full well the irony in his words.

You didn’t respond, hoping your silence would end the conversation, but Gojo wasn’t one to let things go. He slid in closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

“Come on, kid. Lighten up a little, will ya?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of it, solid but not heavy, grounding you in the moment. There was an ease to his touch, a warmth that contrasted with the rigid formality you had been taught to expect from him. “You’re doing great. Really.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard. It wasn’t just na empty compliment—he genuinely believed it. And for the briefest moment, you felt a flicker of something deep inside, something dangerously close to... pride.

But that feeling was quickly quashed as the memory of your mission came crashing back, pulling you down like na anchor. You weren’t supposed to enjoy his praise. You weren’t supposed to feel anything for him beyond what your clan had drilled into you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Gojo’s hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re a tough one, huh? That’s good. You’ll need it.”

You glanced up at him, confused by his words. “Need it for what?”

“For dealing with me,” he said, smirking as if that explained everything. “I’m a handful, or so I’ve been told.”

Under normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes or brushed off the comment. But there was something about the way Gojo’s presence lingered, something about his carefree attitude that made you want to stay, to hear more.

Despite everything you knew, despite everything you were supposed to be, you felt the faint stirrings of... trust. It was ridiculous, you knew that. Gojo Satoru wasn’t someone you were meant to trust. He was your target. The reason you were here. And yet, every time he called you “kid” or “kiddo,” it chipped away at the wall you had built around yourself.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Gojo suddenly said, his voice softer, his teasing demeanor dialed down a notch. “You’re strong. Smart. Got a good head on your shoulders. You remind me of myself when I was younger.”

The compliment hung in the air, heavy with implication. You swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. Was this a trap? A test? Did he know? Could he see through you and the purpose that had shaped your life from the start?

“I’m not like you,” you blurted out, the words sharper than you intended. Gojo blinked, taken aback for a split second before that disarming grin returned.

“Eh, maybe not,” he said, shrugging. “But that’s not a bad thing. The world doesn’t need two Gojos running around, anyway.”

There was a twinkle in his smile when he said it, and you could almost laugh at how absurd it all was—this man who was supposed to be untouchable, invincible, speaking to you like you were equals. But you couldn’t laugh. Not when your every instinct screamed at you to pull away, to build back the barriers you were letting crumble.

Gojo tapped your shoulder lightly, pulling you from your thoughts. “Anyway, don’t be a stranger, kiddo. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his retreating figure leaving you standing in the courtyard, more confused than ever. His words echoed in your mind, louder than the commands of your clan, drowning out everything you had been taught.

You had a purpose. You knew that. But with every passing day, Gojo’s light grew harder to ignore, and with it, the lines between duty and something else blurred just a little more.

The day it all fell apart, you had known something was wrong. The air at Jujutsu High felt different, heavier. You felt it in the eyes of your fellow students, in the whispers that followed your steps like shadows. But you pushed it aside. You couldn’t afford to be paranoid, not when your mission was still incomplete.

Then, they came for you.

The higher-ups descended upon you like vultures, swift and merciless. You were cornered before you could even react, their curses restraining you, leaving no room for escape. There was no explanation, no warning. One moment, you were walking through the quiet halls of the school, the next, you were shackled, powerless to move.

“Traitor,” one of them spat, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

Traitor. The word hit you like a physical blow, even though you knew this moment was inevitable. They had found out. Somehow, the secret you had been born to protect, the purpose that had been hidden deep within you, had unraveled before you could even make your move.

“Wait—” you managed to choke out, but the words were cut off as a curse tightened around your throat, rendering you silent.

It didn’t matter what you had to say. They wouldn’t listen.

Without hesitation, they dragged you through the halls, past the familiar places that had once been a reluctant sanctuary. Your heart pounded, not from fear, but from frustration, from the injustice of it all. You hadn’t betrayed anyone. You hadn’t even acted yet. But that didn’t matter to them. The mere existence of your mission was enough to condemn you.

You were brought before Gojo. His figure loomed in the doorway as you were shoved into the room, your body weak and trembling from the restraints. His face was unreadable beneath the blindfold, and for the first time, the usual warmth he carried was nowhere to be found.

“They’ve told me everything.” His voice was flat, no longer laced with the teasing affection he had once directed at you.

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, but nothing came out. What could you say? How could you justify your existence, when you had been molded to destroy him? You saw no sympathy in his stance, no compassion in his expression. Gojo Satoru, the man who had once laughed with you, called you “kiddo,” and made you feel like a person—he wasn’t there anymore.

“Take her away,” one of the higher-ups ordered, and without a word of defense, you were dragged from the room.

The arrest was swift. Brutal.

For days, you were left in the darkness. Deprived of food, of water, of any semblance of humanity. Your once-sharp mind dulled under the crushing weight of hunger and thirst. Your body bore the marks of countless interrogation sessions, each one harsher than the last. Bruises lined your arms and legs, dark and angry. Your skin was caked in dirt, your clothes torn from the repeated brutality.

They wanted answers—answers you couldn’t give them. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t have them. The mission had always been shrouded in secrecy, known only to the highest echelons of your clan. You had been a weapon, nothing more, trained to follow orders without question.

But that didn’t stop the interrogations. The demands for information. The relentless accusations.

“You were here to kill him, weren’t you?” one interrogator sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “To kill Gojo Satoru.”

You said nothing. Your voice was too hoarse, too broken to respond, even if you had wanted to. And what could you say? That you were born for it? That every step of your life had been carefully crafted for this singular purpose?

They wouldn’t care. They had already made up their minds.

Hours turned into days, and you lost track of time. The pain became a constant companion, dulling your senses until you could barely feel it anymore. Your body was weak, battered, and your spirit was crumbling under the weight of it all.

But the worst part wasn’t the physical pain.

It was the silence from Gojo.

There was no rescue, no sudden reprieve. The man who had once filled your days with light and laughter hadn’t come for you. He hadn’t defended you. You were nothing more than a mission now—a failed one at that.

In your darkest moments, you thought about the way he had smiled at you, the way he had made you feel like you were more than just a weapon. But it was all na illusion, wasn’t it? A fleeting lie you had allowed yourself to believe.

You were no one. Nothing. Just a tool that had outlived its usefulness.

And now, you were paying the price.

The room was cold. Sterile. The light above flickered faintly, casting weak shadows across the bare walls. You had been left alone for what felt like days again, your wrists raw from the restraints, your body aching from the strain of hunger and exhaustion. The silence was unbearable, almost worse than the interrogation. It gave your mind too much room to wander, to dwell on everything that had happened, on how completely you had failed.

You didn’t expect him to come. Not after all this time. Not after the accusations and the punishments that followed. Gojo Satoru wasn’t someone you thought you’d see again—not after the higher-ups had laid bare your betrayal. But when the door opened, and the familiar white-haired figure stepped through, your heart sank.

He was here.

The Bearer of the Six Eyes.

There was no familiar grin, no teasing lilt in his voice as he stepped into the room, his tall frame dominating the small, confining space. His blindfold was still in place, but you knew he could see you with perfect clarity—your disheveled hair, the bruises on your arms, the dirt staining your once-clean uniform. He could see it all, and yet he remained silent for a long moment, taking in the sight of you in chains.

“You’re a hard one to track down, you know that, kid?” Gojo’s voice, though light as ever, carried na edge you hadn’t heard before.

Kid. It stung now, more than it ever had. It felt like mockery, like a reminder of the bond you had lost—the bond you had destroyed with your silence and your deception. You looked up at him, your gaze bitter, hollow. His presence was still too much, too bright even in this dismal place. You swallowed the bitter taste that rose in your throat, refusing to allow any weakness to show.

“It’s Gojo Satoru now, isn’t it?” you said, your voice raw but firm. “Or maybe you’d prefer Bearer of the Six Eyes?”

The shift in how you addressed him was palpable, heavy with resentment. It wasn’t Gojo-sensei anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to call him that now—not after everything. The title you had once used with some semblance of warmth felt foreign, twisted in your mouth. Gojo stood there, unmoving, the weight of your words hanging between you like a wall.

He frowned, just barely, but enough for you to notice. “Gojo Satoru, huh?” His tone was soft, almost questioning. “That’s a bit formal, don’t you think?”

You didn’t answer, keeping your gaze on the floor, refusing to meet his eyes—Six Eyes, the very thing that had marked him as untouchable. The reason you had been made. You felt sick with anger, with the weight of everything that had been forced upon you, the mission that had led you here, to this moment of utter defeat.

Gojo moved closer, the sound of his footsteps reverberating in the small room, and you felt his presence looming over you. His voice came again, quieter now. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to talk like that.”

You let out a bitter laugh, hollow and strained. “What does it matter now? After everything, do you think I could still call you Gojo-sensei? I’m not your student. I never was. I was a weapon, designed to destroy you.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. You could feel his eyes on you, even behind the blindfold. He was studying you, seeing through your bitterness, through the layers of anger and betrayal you had wrapped yourself in.

“And yet, you didn’t try to kill me,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “If you were really just a weapon, you would’ve made your move by now.”

You clenched your fists, your body trembling with the effort to stay composed. “I couldn’t. I—” The words caught in your throat, too tangled with emotions you didn’t understand. “You don’t get it, Gojo Satoru. You were never supposed to be… like this. You were too—too bright. Too human. It made everything harder.”

For a moment, Gojo said nothing. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the tension between the two of you—the unspoken things hanging in the air, the weight of your mission pressing down on both of you. Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you, bringing himself to your level.

“I don’t know what your clan told you, what they made you believe,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft, “but you’re not just a weapon. I saw you, kid. I still see you.”

You flinched at the word ‘kid,’ but there was no teasing in his tone now. It was just Gojo—Gojo, who had once laughed and joked with you, who had treated you like a person, not na enemy. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to see you. He wasn’t supposed to care.

“You don’t get it,” you repeated, your voice breaking. “This is what I was made for. My whole life—it was all for this. For you.”

Gojo was silent for a long moment, his expression softening. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle but firm. “And now that they’ve thrown you away, what are you going to do?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They used you, kid. They molded you into something to fight me. And now that the higher-ups know, they’re done with you. They don’t care what happens to you.”

His words hit harder than any physical blow. You had always known, deep down, that your clan saw you as nothing more than a tool. But hearing it spoken aloud—hearing Gojo say it—felt like a knife twisting in your gut.

“You don’t have to keep living like this,” Gojo continued, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “You can choose something else.”

You stared at him, disbelief flickering in your eyes. “Choose? What choice do I have left?”

Gojo tilted his head, his tone softening. “You could stay. Stay here, at Jujutsu High. Be my student. For real this time.”

The suggestion hit you like a punch to the chest. Stay? After everything? You shook your head, the weight of the offer too much to bear. “I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Not after all this. Not after what I was meant to do.”

Gojo remained silent for a moment, as if considering your words. Then he stood up, his tall frame once again towering over you. “You were meant to do a lot of things, kid,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “But maybe it’s time to figure out what you want.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you alone once again. But this time, his words lingered in the air, heavy and full of possibility.

What did you want?

For the first time in your life, you weren’t sure.

Days passed, and with them, the cold, unfeeling walls of your confinement started to feel like a prison not just for your body but for your mind. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in circles, replaying the words Gojo had left you with. His offer to stay. To be his student—for real this time. But after everything you’d been through, after the torture and betrayal, it felt like a cruel joke. How could you possibly belong here?

Yet there was something in his voice that made it hard to dismiss. Something genuine, as though he saw a future for you where you couldn’t.

Late one night, the sound of voices broke through the stillness of your cell. Raised, agitated, echoing down the hall.

“Are you out of your mind, Gojo? She’s dangerous! Her entire purpose is to be a weapon against you!” one of the higher-ups growled.

“That was her clan’s decision, not hers,” Gojo’s voice shot back, sharp as a blade. “She didn’t ask to be born into that. You can’t punish her for what she never had a choice in.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Gojo was fighting for you?

“She’s a liability,” another voice chimed in. “We can’t risk keeping her alive. If she turns on you—”

Gojo’s laughter was cold and bitter. “Turns on me? You’ve already turned on her. You locked her up and tortured her for something she hasn’t even done. And now you’re talking about killing her? You think that’s going to solve anything?”

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension palpable even from your cell. You didn’t know what to think. Gojo was the last person you expected to go against the higher-ups, to stand between you and their judgment. And yet, here he was, doing exactly that.

“You don’t get to make this call, Gojo,” one of the higher-ups snapped. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

“My emotions?” Gojo’s voice dropped, cold and dangerous. “If you think I’m doing this out of sentimentality, you’re more delusional than I thought. She has potential. If you kill her now, you’re wasting a resource that could be used to our advantage.”

“Potential?” The disbelief in their tone was unmistakable. “You think she could be of use to us after everything? She’s too unpredictable.”

“That’s because you’ve given her no reason to trust you,” Gojo responded, unyielding. “Let her train. Let her join Jujutsu High. I’ll take responsibility for her. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be the first to know.”

Another long pause followed, thick with hesitation. Finally, one of the higher-ups spoke, his voice clipped. “Fine. But if she steps out of line, she’s dead.”

The weight of their words settled over you like a lead blanket. They were giving you a chance, but only under Gojo’s watch. And the moment you made a wrong move, you’d pay the ultimate price.

Moments later, the door to your cell creaked open, and Gojo’s figure appeared in the doorway, his face obscured but unmistakable.

“Come on, kid,” he said, his tone softer than before. “You’re getting out of here.”

You hesitated, your body weak from confinement, but you pushed yourself to your feet. Every movement was painful, your muscles protesting after days of inactivity, but you forced yourself to stand tall as Gojo led you out of the cell. The air in the hallway was cooler, fresher, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in your chest.

As you walked in silence, following him through the winding halls, the weight of everything crashed down on you. Why was he doing this? Why was he fighting for you?

“You really fought for me,” you muttered as you walked beside him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo shrugged, his expression unreadable behind his blindfold. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let them throw you away just because they’re scared.”

“But why?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression softened, though you couldn’t see his eyes. “Because if you’re a weapon,” he said, his voice low and steady, “so am I.”

You froze. The words hit you like a punch to the chest, so simple yet so profound. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in the world, was admitting that he, too, was a tool—someone shaped by forces beyond his control.

For the first time, you didn’t have a response. You simply stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

Gojo didn’t wait for you to recover. He started walking again, his tone shifting back to its usual teasing lilt. “But seriously, just stop calling me ‘Gojo Satoru.’ It’s way too formal, and it makes me feel old.”

Despite everything, you felt a small, reluctant smile tug at the corner of your lips. “What should I call you, then?”

He grinned, though you couldn’t see it, you could hear it in his voice. “Gojo-sensei has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not happening.”

He laughed, the sound light and carefree, as if the darkness of the last few weeks had never touched him. “Fine, fine. Just don’t be so stiff about it, okay?”

The playful tone felt strange after everything, but it was oddly comforting. This was the Gojo you knew, the one who joked and teased, who acted like nothing could ever touch him. And somehow, even after everything, he was still the same.

When you reached the gates of Jujutsu High, Gojo paused, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You can stay here. Train. Learn. Be a student for real this time. But you have to choose it.”

You looked up at him, your chest tight with uncertainty. “What if I can’t? What if I fail?”

He smiled, that familiar, infuriating grin returning at last. “Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But for now, just focus on being yourself. You don’t have to carry that weight anymore.”

The sincerity in his voice took you by surprise. After so long of being treated as nothing more than a tool, hearing someone speak to you like this felt foreign, strange. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to say anything.

As you stepped through the gates of Jujutsu High, leaving behind the darkness of your past, Gojo walked beside you, no longer na enemy, no longer a rival, but something else. Something you couldn’t name yet, but for the first time in your life, you felt the faint stirrings of hope.

“Gojo-sensei,” you muttered under your breath, testing the word.

He immediately perked up, flashing you a triumphant grin. “See? I knew you’d come around.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile found its way to your face. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. Maybe it was the beginning of something new. And this time, you had the choice.

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [32]- Back Alley

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Business partners don’t have to be friendly.

Word Count: 3100

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think that the divorce clause in your prenup was going to come in handy any day now.

Granted you and Bucky had a deal, and you did trust him to hold up his end of the deal but he hadn’t spoken to you, or spared you as much as a glance for almost a week now so you were slowly getting lost in your anxious thoughts.

It was one thing when you were giving him an attitude but him acting like you didn’t even exist?

That flat out made your chest ache.

“Here you go,” Clint’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he put the file in front of you and you looked up at him, then smiled slightly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh no, thank you,” he said with a huff of laughter. “Rhett is an asshole, I’m glad you’re taking over.”

“He’s not so bad,” you muttered, opening the file to skim the page, then let out a small laugh. “But yeah. I could’ve told you he would reject this even if I offered it to him.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not enough profit on his end,” you muttered, shuffling through the pages. “And he wants to see every plan you have, A to Z.”

Clint heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

“Well as I said, I’m glad you’re taking over,” he said and sat up straighter. “Nat will back you up, you know?”

You hummed, still focused on the page. “In the deal?”

“As the heir.”

That made your head snap up and you blinked at him in silence for a couple of seconds. He seemed almost entertained at your puzzlement as he leaned back on his seat behind his desk, and shrugged his shoulders.

“She talked to me too.”

You licked your lips. “And?”

“You won’t even try to feed me some bullshit about respecting your father’s chosen heir?”

“Depends,” you said. “Do you respect my father’s chosen heir?”

He let out a chuckle and held up his hands.

“He has done nothing to earn my respect,” he said. “I was willing to give him a chance—I did give him a chance and he fucked it up, as you know.”

You crossed your legs, keeping your gaze on him.

“Arthur is a legend in our line of work,” he said. “He’s the main reason why we have the truce now. That’s why I don’t understand how he made all the right choices up until the choice of heir because that…Y/N, that’s your right. I’m glad you’re making your move now.”

You pursed your lips.

“I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to make him reconsider.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You have Bucky in your corner, Steve and Sam and Nat as well, and I’m planning on supporting you the minute your name comes up.”

You weren’t so sure about Bucky being in your corner at the moment but you still smiled at him. “Thanks Clint.”

“So the only one left is…”

“Tony,” you said. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t trust Ian either.”

“No but he trusts my father,” you admitted. “He may not like Ian but he isn’t going to go against that decision.”

He hummed, drumming his fingertips on the desk.

“Nat and I will talk to him,” he said. “Let’s see if he changed his mind in the light of these recent developments. Just one question though.”

“Hm?”

“If your father doesn’t change his mind,” he said. “Will you take it from Ian anyway?”

That was a difficult question.

If it were Steve or Sam asking you this, you could answer it truthfully but you didn’t know Clint as well as you knew them. You had no idea if it was a bait, so whatever answer you gave him could change his opinion about backing you up, so you bit inside your cheek, deep in thought.

“I…” you trailed off. “I’m not going to start a war, but I’m not just going to lie back and take it if Ian does. I doubt anyone else would either.”

Clint nodded his head slowly.

“You two are always going to be a threat to each other, he knows that,” he muttered. “He’s an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.”

You shifted your weight on your seat, nibbling on your lip.

“Mm hm.”

“And you do realize that one of you will have to kill the other to get to the top?”

That made your jaw clench before you nodded your head, trying your hardest to ignore the churning in your stomach.

“Nat said the same thing.”

“Because she knows how it goes,” he said. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You paused only for a moment, an image of you pulling the trigger flashing before your eyes before you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said. “If it comes down to that, yeah. I’m ready.”

                                                 *

“I don’t understand what the problem is, your whole relationship with Bucky has been nothing but a fight so far,” Becca said as she handed you and Sarah your coffee cups. “I wouldn’t say it’s too big of a deal.”

“We’ve never had a fight like this though,” you muttered and turned to Sarah. “What do you think?”

Sarah shot you a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think it was the best call to hide Rhett from him until that meeting.”

You let out a whine, slipping a little in your seat. “I had a reason!”

“Which was?”

“I didn’t—I—” you stammered. “I didn’t want him to go behind my back and make that deal himself, obviously!”

Sarah and Becca exchanged glances before they turned to you.

“And you think Bucky,” Sarah started. “Bucky who’s been trying to push you to the top ever since you told him you wanted to be the heir would do that?”

“Yeah well, forgive me if I can’t trust mob bosses,” you muttered. “My dad said he wanted me to be the heir, and then what did he do? He took it away from me. I’m not going to let Bucky do that as well, that plan has been in motion for years now, I put in the effort—”

“Should I just text Bucky you have daddy issues and be done with this nonsense?” Becca asked and your jaw dropped.

“I do not have daddy issues!” you insisted. “Sarah, tell her!”

“Your picture comes up when I google daddy issues,” Sarah said with a shrug of her shoulders, making your jaw drop.

“Sarah!”

“I mean if we look at it from Bucky’s perspective, he does have a point in feeling betrayed.”

Your stomach did a painful flip and you took a deep breath, throwing your shoulders back.

“Well you are my best friends so we’re not looking at it from his perspective,” you told Becca, making her let out a small laugh, holding her hands up to gesture surrender while Sarah sipped her coffee.

“Does he at least know you and Rhett had a full on relationship?”

“Was it that bad?”

“It wasn’t good,” you sulked while you and Isla walked out of the building. “I swear if I fail the midterm…”

“You won’t fail,” she assured you and you let out a groan, but then stopped dead on your tracks when your eyes fell on Rhett who was leaning against his jet black car on the other side of the road. A smile curled your lips and you turned to Isla.

“Um—”

“Go ahead,” she said with a wink. “I have to find Bradley anyway.”

“Tell him I said hi!” you called out, already running to Rhett and you threw yourself into his arms, making him chuckle before he lifted you up to sit you down on the hood of the car, his lips claiming yours. You heaved a sigh when he pulled back, then smiled up at him brightly.

“Hi!” you said, your fingers brushing over his curly hair. “I thought you had a meeting!”

“The meeting finished early.”

You tilted your head, pulling your brows together.

“Oh you got rid of him?” you asked. “What was he, a mole?”

He gave you a reprimanding look. “Not in public, baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, making him chuckle as he squeezed your thigh, still his other hand resting against the hood beside you, caging you in while you fixed your skirt.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

Rhett hummed. “I have a plan that includes you and a bed, does that count?”

You let out a giggle, pecking him on the lips.

“There’s this party for the end of the midterms,” you said. “Do you want to come with me?”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone at a party,” he stated. “Sure thing, I can tag along.”

“Yay!”

“Before that though, have you—” he started but his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and took it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he asked while you absentmindedly pulled his gun out of his waistband to check the magazine, humming a song to yourself. “Yeah, no, I had to cut the meeting short. Our usual guys are dealing with the clean up.”

You counted the bullets, then slid the magazine back to its place while Rhett stroked his thumb over your knee, coaxing another giggle out of you.

“Great, thanks,” he said and hung up, making you look up at him as he took the gun from you.

“You’re missing a bullet.”

“It’s inside a guy’s skull as we speak,” he muttered, leaning in to brush his lips against yours and you cupped his cheek, heaving a sigh when he pulled back.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I had like three energy drinks,” you said as he tilted his head to shoot you a look. “What, it’s the midterms week!”

“Let’s have lunch in bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing, Rhett.”

“Should be a thing,” he mused, dragging his fingertips up your leg, making you swat at his hand.

“We’re in public!” you reminded him, making him chuckle. “Anyways, what are we eating then?”

“You’re eating whatever you want and I’m eating you out.”

You tried to ignore the fire spreading over your face as your jaw dropped.

“Very romantic—” you started but you were cut off when his phone started vibrating again, making him grit his teeth before answering.

“What, dickhead?” he snapped at whoever it was on the phone. “I’m with my girl, the fuck do you want?”

“Be nice!” you whispered to him and he shook his head slightly.

“Yeah Lucas, he knows,” he said. “I called him before I called the clean up guys. Can you handle your shit or should I come there and hold your hand?”

You raised your brows as he hung up the phone, then turned to you.

“Sorry about that baby.”

“No problem,” you said “So that was Lucas on the phone?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “He wants to know if my dad knows about how the meeting ended. Anyways, as I was saying—”

“You do realize he wants your position?”

That made him pause and he frowned. “What?”

“Lucas,” you said, leaning back on your palms. “He wants your position as the prince of Chicago and he will try to stab you in the back.”

His eyes searched yours before he scoffed a laugh.

“Lucas is as loyal as a dog,” he said. “What makes you think that?”

“He glares at you the way my cousin glares at me,” you pointed out. “Whenever you’re not looking.”

His frown deepened and he thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Nah,” he brushed it off. “No way. As I said, loyal as a dog.”

“But Rhett, your position—”

“The only position I care about right now is the one I’ll put you in when we get to my place,” he muttered to your lips with a smirk, making you giggle before he stole a kiss. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“It didn’t come up,” you muttered. “Besides, it isn’t as if we were serious.”

“You kind of were.”

“Debatable.”

“You need to tell him,” Sarah insisted, making you turn your cup in your palms just to distract yourself. “It’s better than Rhett telling him, no?”

“I guess,” you said. “I just don’t think he likes me nowadays.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“You two need to start actually talking to each other.”

You huffed out a breath, then sipped your coffee.

“I mean we have the therapist appointment,” you said. “Which, I don’t even know if he will show up but…”

“You are feeding false information to the therapist,” Sarah reminded you as if trying to help you. “Try to talk to each other truthfully, maybe?”

You clicked your tongue, turning the cup between your palms.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Can’t hurt to try I guess.”

                                         *

The therapist appointment was uncomfortable to say at the very least. Bucky kept quiet for the most of it despite Dr. Raynor’s efforts to include him in the conversation, and the answers he gave her were pretty curt, so it came as a no surprise when Dr. Raynor put her notebook aside.

“I’m sensing a tension?” she said, motioning between you two while Bucky bounced his leg, his gaze darting to the clock on the wall before returning to her.

“We’ve had a disagreement,” you said, making him grit his teeth.

“Y/N.”

“We’re in a therapy session and you haven’t talked to me for the last week,” you said. “Might as well.”

“You haven’t talked to each other for the last week?”

“I did try,” you defended yourself and Bucky crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the table.

“Bucky?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Don’t do that!” you insisted. “You’re angry at me for some reason—”

“For some reason?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you licked your lips, then sat up straighter.

“We’re going to make a deal with a business partner,” you said. “Bucky is angry because I know him.”

“No Y/N, I’m angry because despite us having a deal, you went behind my back.”

“I didn’t go behind your back,” you protested. “Not sharing every single detail with you isn’t going behind your back.”

“You knowingly kept me out of the loop and that’s not going behind my back?” he asked and you threw your hands up.

“Bucky—”

“Do you feel like Y/N betrayed your trust, Bucky?”

Your jaw dropped as you looked at Dr. Raynor. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah actually,” Bucky said. “We had a deal and it turns out she’s had all these plans that she didn’t let me know about. Including knowing the guy—which by the way, you never did tell me how you know him.”

Your heart skipped a nervous beat and you let out a breath. “I don’t think it’s the place for it.”

“I disagree, you were the one who started it,” Bucky said. “So? How?”

You bit inside your cheek, then cleared your throat, motioning vaguely. “We used to date.”

Bucky gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence before a dry laugh climbed up his throat and he ran a hand over his face.

“You used to date,” he said, dragging the tip of his tongue over his lip. “Of course…”

“That’s not even relevant—”

“Oh it’s very relevant,” Bucky cut you off, glaring at you. “What he—he still loves you or something? That’s why he’ll say yes to the deal? Because he thinks he has a shot?”

“Wh—no!” you exclaimed. “Do you hear yourself right now? It’s completely irrelevant!”

“Says you.”

“In case it has escaped your notice, we’re married, dickhead!”

“Alright, let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said but neither of you spared her a look.

“How is it irrelevant that the guy you used to date happens to only want to talk to you or make a deal with you?”

“Because I made sure that he trusts me!”

“Yeah?” he provoked you. “And how did you do that?”

 “By being good at this fucking job, how do you think?” you snapped back but before Bucky could retort, Dr. Raynor cleared her throat.

“Let’s continue this conversation in our next appointment,” she said and Bucky scoffed, then stood up to walk out of the office. You smiled at Dr. Raynor, standing up as well.

“See you next week, Dr. Raynor,” you said and went after Bucky, only catching up with him when you stepped outside.

“Bucky!” you called out and he turned around to give you a quizzical look. You licked your lips and stepped closer to him, not even sparing a glance at the bodyguards waiting for him by his car.

“Do you mind?” you asked him, nodding at the nearest back alley and he looked like he would say no, but he still followed you there. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms, looking up at him.

“I was going to tell you about me and Rhett,” you said and he let out a dry chuckle.

“Yeah,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I trust you as much as you trust me,” he pointed out, making you swallow thickly.

“Don’t be like that,” you muttered. “First you ignore me for a week and now—”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

Even you were aware of the petulant tone in your voice; “You’ve barely looked my way since the sit down!”

“I will talk to you when I have something to talk to you about.”

“If you’re expecting an apology—”

“Oh I know you better than that,” he cut you off. “Is that all or do you need anything else? I’m going to be late to my meeting.”

“Stop fucking treating me like one of those mob wives,” you growled and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not,” he said. “I told you. I’m treating you like a business partner. That’s what you said you wanted, isn’t it?”

You gritted your teeth, glaring up at him in silence and he had the audacity to give you a dry smile.

“Great. See you at home.”

He walked away from you and soon you heard the car driving off. You let out a furious breath, then leaned back to the wall, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“Very well then,” you muttered to yourself and got your phone out of your pocket, then found the name in your contacts. Your heartbeat sped up as your finger hovered over the screen, but you took a deep breath, touched it and took the phone to your ear.

It only rang once.

“Finally,” the familiar drawl reached you. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call sweetheart.”

You could feel the smile curling your lips.

“Hi Rhett,” you said. “Do you have a moment?”

Chapter 33

[lovebugism]

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol

ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 

It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.

These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.

The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?

It’s totally trippy. 

But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.

“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 

He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.

“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.

“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.

Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.

“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.

Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 

It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.

“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.

The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 

When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.

“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.

Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.

“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.

Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 

You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.

“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”

“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.

Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”

“What?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”

You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.

You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.

[jube-art]

Hi!! I really love your Kryptonian au. I’m just curious, what is Clark and Conner’s relationship like in this au? Another thought - would the bats be unsettled by the fact that Kon isn’t fully Kryptonian and has Tactile Telekinesis? Have a great day!

The greenhouse had plenty to do in it, for the four hours a day the refugees could sit in it without adverse reactions. Plenty of plants they hadn't seen before, plenty of plants they had. Food larger than even back home on Krypton, growing freely to take and eat whenever one of them had enough energy to reach out and grab them. The large windows shows a barren landscape of nothingness, of blinding white and snow that reminds Bru exactly of Kandor, back when Kandor still existed.

They were brought things, while they rested in the greenhouse, to keep them warm. Fluffy strange towels used to wash off the water that they were allowed to bask in- water abundant and clear and overflowing, circulating constantly, filled to the brim unlike anything Bru had seen before. Little strange things that gave off heat to warm their bones, chords coming off of them leading away into the main chamber, brightly colored and strange. Plush chairs to rest on, shade to hide away under when they started to get dizzy.

Daym was already asleep, snoring gently as he drifted. Te normally floated around, bouncing slowly off the sides of the water enclosure, but Jae, Dic, and Bru, towards the end of their time in the greenhouse, usually just talked.

Today, like most days, the topic was of their generous hosts, the members of the noble house of El.

"-I heard that Kon-El was a clone of Kal-El." Dic whispers to them, wrapped up in a thick bundle of fabrics and with his feet towards the little portable heat source. "Can you believe it?" Bru can, he watches them both, a bit farther away and talking in that strange, disjointed language they do. They look remarkably similar, more similar than Bru and Dyam do, even, it's not unusual for a leading political or scientific figure to be cloned to continue on their work after the original has passed. A little odd to have them be so close in age, of course, but if Kal-El really does have a whole, living breathing clone, so vividly well done, then this world truly is a paradise.

--

Clark and Kon have their canon, comic relationship of being strange Brother-Uncle-Nephew-Cousin things, and are relatively friendly with each other. As for the cloning, we're saying that it's not unusual on Krypton (because they're all pod people) for important figures to be cloned over and over again to continue on their work. (Similar to if we just continued to clone FDR and elect him president every four years.)

[aniesvision]

one and only (soft dom! colby brock x virgin! f reader)

warnings: mentions of angst, mentions of toxic relationship, fluff, make out, pet names (baby, love, beautiful), praising, oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, love and cute moments that's all I guess

a/n: hi! this one was based in this request, i'm sorry it took so long for me to post it! i hope y'all like it, friendly reminder that english is not my first language! enjoy ✨

synopsis: You and Colby are dating for a while now, one day you decided you wanted to do something to show him how much you trust and love him.

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just to clarify, all 'first time's are different and it can be good, but it also can be bad, don't rush things if you don't feel prepared, it's not worth it. take your time 💕

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-Are you sure you wanna do this? -Colby asks, worried that I was going to regret my own choice.

-Yes, Colby, I'm sure. -I roll my eyes with a smile, pulling him by the hand to his room.

It's our month anniversary, we've been together for three months now and I couldn't be happier. Before we started dating, we were friends for a couple years. I always knew my feelings for him wasn't just friendly, but it took me a long time to accept it.

Before I met Colby, I was in another relationship, my first one and the worst experience I've ever had. The guy I was with wasn't exactly nice to me, or my friends, he would yell at me, call me bad words and make me feel the worse. I was so blind, thinking he'd change and that he was a good guy deep down. But that just wasn't the truth.

I broke up with him when I couldn't take it anymore, he was mad at me for weeks just because I didn't want to have sex with him, but I was scared, I wasn't sure he was the one anymore and I didn't want to lose my virginity with someone I wasn't sure I truly loved.

A few months later I met Colby, we had mutual friends and we got along pretty well. We talked a lot, exchanged numbers, we texted and he asked me to go on a date with him. Although I was still heartbroken and not wanting to be in another relationship so soon, I went to the date. We talked and he accepted to take things slow. We kept on being just friends, going out sometimes, but nothing else.

I ended up falling in love with him. It was inevitable, he was so gentle, never rushed anything, respected me all the time, he treated me nicely and my friends actually liked him. We had our first kiss a while ago, and soon enough we engaged in a relationship.

It was perfect, so different from my last one. He's gentle, cute, caring, funny. He's always showing me that good people still exists and not everyone's a bad person. He's so important, and I value him so much, that I wanted to somehow show him how much I love him, how grateful I am to have him in my life. 

That's what brings us here, to his room, after a make out session on the couch downstairs. He knows I'm a virgin, I've told him before and he didn't care, he said we could do it whenever I was ready and the wait wouldn't make him love me less, but I wanted him. It's not like I don't feel things, don't feel needy, I'm just scared because it's a new thing and I have no idea how's it going to be like. But I trust him, and I want it to be with him.

We sit on his bed, facing each other, our hands interlocked together as his thumb caress my skin lightly. I take a deep breath, none of us speaking, it was like we were gathering the courage to do something or even processing things first.

-I really love you, you know? -I say, in a low, shy voice.

The mood and tension in the room make me realize how real it was. How intense the sensations felt, and how loud my heartbeats were beating.

-I know you do, baby. I love you too, so much, but you really don't have to do this just to prove yourself, I can see how much you actually care about me. -He says, in a soft tone, looking in my eyes with affection.

God, what did I do to deserve him?

I smile, raising one of my hands to cup his cheek, my eyes admiring all his features.

-I know, but I want to.

We stay silent once again, just taking in the emotions and thinking of what to do next. He nods slowly, leaning in to peck my lips gently.

-You sure? Like, really sure? -He asks again, making me giggle against his lips.

-Yes, love, I do. I want to do it, with you, because I trust you.

He smiles again, closing the small gap between us to kiss me intently. His lips moved against mine perfectly, the softness making me feel at peace. It was comfortable and hot at the same time, heated and full of love.

Colby slowly leans me down on the bed, making me lay on my back and hovering over me without breaking the kiss. One of his hands explored my body, running up and down my sides. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to me, wanting to feel every single piece of his skin touching mine.

He pulls away from the kiss, lowering his lips to my neck, licking and nibbling the soft and sensitive area, making me sigh in pleasure. It was so good, it didn't felt forced at all, it was all gentle and sweet. Colby keeps moving down, lifting my long t-shirt over my head and throwing it aside. He takes a longer look at me, his eyes roaming up and down my bare chest, gaze intense and dark.

-You're so beautiful. -He kisses the valley of my boobs, cupping one of my tits with his hand. -My beautiful girl.

Colby teases my nipples with his fingertips, licking and sucking them lightly, his touches getting possessive by the second. He seemingly enjoyed himself by playing with my boobs, my soft moans making him drag down his lips to meet my stomach. He pulls back, looking at me as if asking for permission to slide down the last piece of clothing covering my body.

I nod, wanting nothing more than to feel something. My thoughts wondered how his lips and tongue would feel somewhere else, somewhere it'd never been before, and just with that my entire body heat up.

He seems to notice it, a small smirk growing in the corners of his lips as his eyes explore my now naked body hungrily.

-Fuck, beautiful, you're so fucking perfect.

Colby kisses my inner thighs gently, his hands on my hips keeping me still. I prop myself on my elbows to look at him better, one of my hands tangling in his hair and stroking it lightly, caressing his scalp. My heartbeats were racing, chest raising and falling rapidly, anxious to feel a new thing, the new sensation my body seemed to crave.

Finally Colby's lips get in contact with my core, pressing a quick kiss before sliding his tongue from my entrance to my clit. A soft moan escapes my lips, making him feel bolder and move his tongue faster.

-Fuck, baby. -I throw my head back on the pillow, closing my eyes to focus on the feelings.

I didn't even need to look at him to know he was smirking. He was clearly enjoying himself, I know he always wanted to do this and now that is finally happening I had no intend on pulling back. He was eating me out like he was starving, and my inexperienced self couldn't hold back my sounds and squirming, my legs already shaking against his face.

Colby looked up at me, slowly bringing his hand down and teasing my entrance with his middle finger, the rings he was wearing making him hotter than I thought it was possible. His gaze was intense, he was completely consumed by his desire and it was obvious by the darkness in his eyes.

Without any warnings, he pushes his finger inside of me, a gasp leaving my parted lips as I wince a bit by the new sensation.

-It's alright, baby, you're doing so well, just need to stretch you, need to make sure I'm not gonna hurt you. -He explains, eyes leaving mine to look down to his actions.

I whine at his words, his finger was uncomfortable at first, but then it started to feel good, sliding easily in and out my wetness. He suddenly added another one, my throat immediately turning dry. It wasn't exactly bad, and it didn't exactly hurt, but the first minutes were definitely uncomfortable.

He kept fingering me for a while, savoring the sight of his fingers entering me for the first time ever. He looked almost hypnotized, only pulling away to keep things going when I started to shake again. I huff in frustration with the new feeling of emptiness when his fingers leave me and he chuckles at me.

-Don't worry, baby, gonna fill you up again, but not with my fingers.

He crawls on top of me again, kissing me deeply, making me feel my own taste. It was all so new, a territory I never explored before with anyone, and he was making it feel so natural. I wasn't even that nervous, just a bit anxious, naturally.

Colby's clothes were on the floor in a heartbeat, my eyes taking it's time to appreciate the view. I bite my lips in anticipation, finally looking up to meet his eyes again, with him already looking at me with a mix of desire and concern.

-You're 100% sure, right? -He asks, once more, propping himself on his elbows.

I smile, although my heartbeats could be heard in the silence, I was peaceful. With a nod of my head, my hands slide up his arms as I lean to kiss him once more. He quickly reciprocates, deepening it and using one hand to touch all details of my body.

He wrapped it up with a condom, giving me a few more seconds to deny it if I wanted to. He was so desperate to feel me, yet so nervous, even more than I was, which is kinda funny. I was the one about to lose my virginity and he was the one freaking out.

-I trust you. -I speak, when I see him reluctant on top of me, scared to do something I wasn't ready to, but I was, and I truly wanted to.

He nods with a small smile, sliding his tip up and down my folds, collecting my wetness before aligning his dick on my entrance.

-Tell me if it hurts, ok? If you wanna stop just say it and I will.

And with that he was thrusting only his tip inside of me, the burning sensation immediately making me tear up and whine. He stopped, waiting patiently for me to give him the green light, and as soon as I do he pushes it all at once.

-Fuck, baby. -He groans, burying his face on my shoulder.

I try to take deep breaths, my pussy pulsing against him, trying to adjust to his size. It wasn't the worst feeling ever, with all the things people say I thought it'd be way worse. Maybe I'm just lucky, maybe I'm just wet, but definitely trusting him enough to not be so nervous helped a lot.

I tell him to move when I felt like I could take it, and his hips started to slap against mine, making nasty sounds all over the room, echoing through the walls. It wasn't the best thing ever at first, but minutes later when I was finally getting used to it it started to feel better, the pain and the burning sensations going away slowly.

Colby looks at me to make sure I was alright and kisses my forehead, touching my nose with his, he was thrusting in a faster pace, deeper, making me feel him in my stomach.

-Fuck, so good, you look so pretty. -He praises, making me smile and blush, eyes rolling back slightly as I could feel my body moving up and down with each thrust of his.

My hands squeeze his arms, nails digging on his skin as I tried to assimilate all my feelings, my heart beating faster when he captures my lips with his own, kissing me soft, the pace of the kiss not matching the pace of his thrusts.

-I love you. -He mumbles against my lips.

-I love you too. -I whisper.

Colby moves even faster, sweat dripping down his temples as he warned me he was close, moving one of his hands to rub circles on my clit. I feel the not so familiar not on my stomach forming, a desperate need to explode filling my thoughts, my moans getting louder and a loud scream of his name leaving my lips when it snaps, making me release all over him.

That was enough to make him reach his own climax, filling the condom with his warm seed. He slides out of me, throwing the plastic away and pulling me to cuddle. My face was rested on his chest, both of us breathing heavily.

-Thank you for trusting me. I love you, baby. -He breaks the silence, kissing the top of my head and squeezing me against his body.

-I love you, Colby, you're my one and only, thank you for making me feel so good. -I respond, kissing him gently.

We both fall asleep a few minutes later enjoying our company and feeling way too comfortable with each other's warmth. It was my first time, and although it had a few pain and burning sensations involved, I couldn't ask for a better experience.

tags 💕

@riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @anabanana28 @flower-sturns @sturncakez @sssoniaswiftt @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @nessii-sturniolo @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @slxtformatt @lovingregulusblack @starnoirr @katie-tibo @mattsfavbigtitties

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 2 wc: 3.1k

read the chapters here !!

you've managed to become closer with the guy you're interested in! this feels like a dream, everything feels like a dream but maybe this (or he) is too good to be true.

hiii omg this chapter is way longer than the first one but i had to do it, i'm sorry !!! anyways i hope you like it <3

based on the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all !!

friendly reminder that he/him pronouns are used for plot purposes !! so please imagine ellie when i use them. i'm not writing about a man, i'd rather die, honestly.

7 in the afternoon. ellie spent the entire day looking at the phone number written on her wrist, scared that the black ink may erase at any time. she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose planning a whole dialogue in her mind that she probably would forget the second she heard your voice, she didn't even know what she was supposed to say to you, the girl that was basically interested in her.

but she knew how excited you were about this, everytime she closed her eyes she could imagine the look on your face if she called you. she knew that you needed someone to share your interests with and she couldn't deny that having someone to talk to about music sounded like a good idea to her too. ellie'd been alone at school for almost a year now and even if you didn't know that the guy you were wishing to date was actually her, you were going to find out at some point and, if you didn't get mad at her, you two could be really good friends, then ellie wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

the whole idea of finally getting to know someone running through ellie's mind while she stared at her phone and her fingers anxiously tapped the desk where her phone laid. she started to type your number on the screen of her phone. she breathed in, blinked quickly and cleared her throat when she pressed the 'call' button. she could already feel her heart pounding so hard threatening to get out of her chest at any second.

you walked in circles around your room with your phone in your hands. you could already feel your eyes drying for you couldn't even blink, you desperately stared at the screen waiting for that call.

but what if he didn't call you? what if he thought you were annoying and he was just being nice when he lent you that album? all kind of negative thoughts ran through your mind. just the idea of being rejected broke your heart into pieces and you could feel that knot in your stomach.

or maybe a worst scenario was that he actually called you. what would you say? would he expect an opinion about the album? would he want to talk to you or would he prefer a shorter conversation?

you fidget with your fingers and bit your nails from time to time as you too planned a whole script in case you had to carry a whole conversation with your crush. you wanted to impress him, show him that you could be as cool as he was.

bzzt

the sound of your phone took you out of your trance and you froze for a second. an unknown number, but you know very well who was calling you. your face lighted up and you immediately picked up the call.

maybe it was because of your excitement that you couldn't help screaming at the phone awkwardly "i loved the album!" you immediately frowned and closed your eyes regretting your whole existence. the cringe was physically hurting you and the seconds you had to wait for his answer felt like an eternity.

"hi to you too," you heard his raspy voice followed by a chuckle that warmed your heart in a second "i'm glad you liked it, it's became one of my favorites."

you started to play with a string of your hair. "i know, i liked it very mussh!" once again you'd embarrassed yourself, it felt like you couldn't stop shouting and screwing things up. just when you thought nothing could make this moment even worse, you heard the loud voice of your mother coming from the kitchen.

a shout of your name followed by a "dinner's ready!" you closed your eyes and sighed hoping that some god had heard your prayers, had mercy of you and avoided that your crush listened to your mom calling you.

but that was asking too much and you could hear a soft laugh coming from your phone. just when you were already feeling the drops of sweat on your forehead reminding you that embarrassing moment, that husky voice blessed your ears one more time. this time it sounded like a whisper, one that warmed your ear and it almost felt as if he were only inches away from you. he called your name and you stopped dead.

"tell your mom i say hi." you hummed trying to hide the panic and the butterflies that only one sentence caused inside you. all the fear you felt seconds ago was replaced by pure ecstasy.

you two talked for a few more minutes and ended the call. ellie felt on her knees and buried her face in her hands. the initial plan was to talk to someone from school and make friends, but why was she unconsciously flirting with you? was it really unconsciously or she didn't want to admit that she was doing it on purpose?

"hey, did you do the homework for today? i didn't do it and i can't have more bad grades. i was wondering if you..."

the voice of one of your classmates called your attention. you sighed and rolled your eyes, you were ready to deny the request, but you frowned when you looked up and realized that the request wasn't for you.

you turned to your right and there it was, your classmate jesse talking to ellie. or rather than talking, he was disturbing her, interrupting her so much preciated tranquility.

"i didn't do it."

the response felt ice cold but she didn't seem annoyed, just nonchalant. you bit your lower lip in order to stop the laugh coming out of your mouth.

"really? but you look like a nerd..."

now the soft smile on your lips slowly faded and your teeth bit your lips so hard they were turning a dark red, the blood threatening to come out from the corner of your lips. you furrowed your eyebrows and scrunched your nose. the conversation was none of your business but you felt the sudden impulse to say something, you couldn't stay quiet and see how someone insulted your classmate.

"so you ask for help and then diss her?" your words came out like a bark "how childish." both of them were now looking at you in surprise. ellie's mouth half opened, the green orbes grew bigger than ever. she blinked a few times before fixing her glasses with her index finger while she cleared her throat.

you just watched jesse leave without saying a word but you could notice his embarrassment miles away. you smiled proudly as your eyes fell on ellie. she mouthed a 'thank you'. you nodded and couldn't help smiling.

only the sight of her felt familiar, had she always been like that? with that little sparkle in her eyes that tickled your stomach and in some way made you feel a connection with her, feeling as if something about her would be able to captivate you any time.

you stared at the notebook in front of you trying to make up your mind. maybe she was a nice person and this was a sign to talk to her, maybe it was the sign of the beginning of a good friendship.

you opened your eyes as soon as you heard the sound of your alarm. never in your life have you been happier about waking up at 8 in the morning on a saturday. you got up from your bed and appreciated the cute outfit laying on your bed, the one you'd carefully chosen the night before. spending hours on choosing the best clothes from your closet and doing your makeup to make you look stunning was worth it if it meant seeing your crush one more time.

you held in your hands the album he had lent you some days before and you couldn't hide the excitement that the butterflies inside your stomach caused. your left hand brushed your cheek and you felt the warmth of your skin almost burning.

you hadn't payed attention to the weather outside because what could go wrong? all the past days had been okay, why would this one be different?

before you cross the front door of your house, tough, your frizzy hair was already warning you something. the bright and warm sun that was beautifully shining the previous day was now all covered in heavy gray clouds that were taking with them the shiny colors of the flowers on the porch of your house.

it was just a 10 minutes walk from your house to the preciated record store but it took only 5 minutes for the pouring rain to start soaking your hair that had taken hours to get done.

but not a single thought of going back home crossed your mind, that was definitely not an option. nothing was going to stop you from having that desired love life you'd prayed for so much for so long. some rain wouldn't screw it up.

your path to the record store consisted of you running to get there faster taking little breaks under the trees that covered you from the rain. you inhaled and prepared yourself to start running again, it kept like that until you finally were only one block away from the place.

the light coming from inside the store gave you an immediate feeling of warmth. the characteristic music of the place was softer than the other days for the sound of the raindrops falling onto the floor was mostly the only thing you could hear.

you sprinted towards the door, the familiar ring of the bell welcoming you once again to your now well known record shop. your eyes scanned the room and stopped at the stunning figure you soon recognized.

it was the guy, your guy. it seemed like he'd also been outside because his hair and face, which was still covered with a mask, were adorned with tiny raindrops. he was drying his forehead with his shirt revealing his well toned abdomen, the small freckles highlighting his pale skin.

soon you felt the warmth quickly coming back to your body almost rushing. your uncolored cheeks now growing crimson while you clenched your teeth afraid that your jaw would fall to the floor if you stared too much.

it didn't take too long for him to notice your presence. he turned around to look at you with those hypnotizing emerald eyes, you could notice the concernment in his eyes as soon as they fell on you. he quickly grabbed the gray hoodie laying on the counter.

"hey, you might catch a cold."

his raspy yet soft voice blessing your ears and before you realized it, he handed you his hoodie.

"you can wear this."

this was the moment you coul swear that that was not rain at all, that was holy water. the day you thought was ruined had became a day you'd remember your whole life. it took you a minute to go back to reality and confirm that this scene was not a product of your imagination.

"oh, thanks." you couldn't hide the sweet smile on your face and you could tell that he was smiling too by the way his eyes looked at yours.

you put the gray hoodie on and all you could think about was the nice smell coming from the fabric, a mixture of a sweet yet woody perfume combined with his natural scent invaded your nostrils and was quick to make you head over heels.

meanwhile, ellie was sweating just by the thought of the possibility of her clothes smelling. but there's no chance that you could find this new fragrance other than pleasant.

after spending what felt like minutes but was actually more than an hour in the record store talking about the things that you had in common, which was not much more than music, but that was enough to make your heart flutter and giggle at his spontaneous jokes and at times sarcastic behavior.

minutes felt like seconds and you had the feeling that you two had something special. the natural conversations and casual jokes made everything feel right and, in some way, it made you think that all the scenarios you made up at midnight before falling asleep while you listened to a playlist you'd made specially for him, could become real. because you were like that, only a few days of seeing this guy and you'd already made a playlist for him with all your favorite songs in it.

"i wanted to share something with you." you hold your breath as you waited for a response.

"yeah? what is it?" you heard the curiosity in his voice.

"it's kinda stupid but i..." you doubted for a second before finishing your sentence "i made a playlist with my favorite songs, maybe you want to listen to it?" your fingers fidgeted with your rings.

his gasp was almost inaudible but loud enough to let you know that he was actually excited about this. "that's not stupid at all, that's awesome." the green eyes looked for yours "send it to me right now, please."

you immediately looked down at your phone in an attempt of hiding the sparkles in your eyes while you sent him the link of the playlist, little did you know that it would soon become that guy's, or ellie's, favorite playlist.

the feeling of your empty stomach reminded you that it was time to go back home and after chatting a bit more with your favorite employee of the record store, you waved and said goodbye to him with a sweet smile, his own eyes smiling at you too thanking your for your visit.

you'd always been fond of participating in every festival that your school organized. this time wouldn't be the exception, your mind was already full of ideas for the spring festival and just the thought of being in charge of it excited you. you'd already decided the music, decorations and organized the little shows that some of the students would make, everything carefully organized by yourself.

but your plans couldn't be as perfect in reality as in your mind, it was when you heard your professor's voice that you knew this was going to be harder than you thought.

"you'll work with jesse, he needs extra points." your jaw fell to the ground when the professor basically forced you to work with one of your classmates, one that you'd already had a little argument with. it wasn't like you hated him but you'd never worked with a boy before, let alone being close with one, with the exception of the guy from the record store, of course.

"i can't... i won't work with him alone, i-" you looked around your classroom with the hope of finding someone who could save you from this situation, someone who you knew would be helpful and would make the atmosphere less awkward.

your face lighted up when your eyes noticed the person next to you, a smirk placed on your face for you'd found the perfect one.

"i think ellie'd do great if she helped us with the organization too." you patted her shoulder. she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked into your eyes for an explanation "you can help us with the music. you have good taste after all, right?" your voice softened when you turned to her, your face expression almost begging for her to accept your offer.

"i- uhm..." she swallowed when she noticed you were watching expectant at her "i guess i could try?" her rising tone making it sound as a question rather than an affirmation. the familiar sweet smile on your face thanking her was everything she needed to confirm that she wouldn't regret this decision.

you spent some minutes thanking her after everyone left the classroom, this being one of the first times you had a conversation with her that lasted more than two words exchanged. it wasn't too deep though, some instructions about the organization of these festivals mixed with words of encouragement for her before she left the classroom.

the room all empty now, every sound you made echoed between the walls as you packed up your belongings and put on your backpack ready to leave too, but the shinning screen of the phone lying on the desk next to yours called your attention. you grabbed it in your hands and carefully examinated it. "it's ellie's phone" you thought.

you turned to look at the door expecting ellie to come back looking for it, but not a single soul seemed to be near there. your attention went back to the mobile. the unlocked screen with a song playing on it, a song you well knew, awoke your curiosity. you'd always hated people who snitched in other's phones but you couldn't help it, plus, there wouldn't be any damage in looking into someone's playlist.

a little grin placed on your face as you noticed the so much similar taste in music you two seem to have. what a coincidence that these were all your favorite songs!

your smile faded and turned into a frown as you read the tittle of every song, one after one. the cold sensation at the back of your neck hitting you when you reached the end on the playlist. all you favorite songs, all in one playlist, the playlist you'd made which only one person was able to listen to other than you. the phone fell from your shaky hands onto the desk, your breath getting faster with each thought running through your mind, the sudden realization hitting you like cold water.

the sound of the door opening took you out of your half-conscious state. "oh, you're still here." you couldn't even face her, now it all made sense "i forgot my phone." the voice you soon recognized making you shiver.

you took a deep breath before turning at her and faking your best smile as you handled ellie her phone "yeah, here." you tried to hide the shaky voice caused by the knot on your throat. "thanks, see you next week!" you watched as she left the classroom once again, then your hands fell on the desk in front of you as you tried to catch your breath and swallow the incontrollable feeling of crying.

these past few weeks, the days you spent talking to what you thought was a guy, was actually a girl? it was not only a girl, it was your classmate, ellie.

taglist: @ohnopoteito (and the editor 💋💋 thank u for your help you've won a crocheted gift 👏👏👏 parabéns) @bready101 @everegretseverything @idk-sam @jupitersversionn @seraphicsentences @fatbootymuncher @ilovetocas1 @blackandwhitewindows @nombreuxx @mooneylou

[aetherdoesthings]

hanahaki!reader x arlecchino

forethoughts: omg aether finally uploads?!?!? apologies for the long break; i was getting my life together, because there's a lot going on in my life right now all at once. nevertheless, this was inspired by my previous work of hanahaki!reader x nico robin, but with arlecchino because of @edgeray's idea! thanks buddy, couldn't have revived my blog without you. also i'm sorry if there are grammatical mistakes or errors, i wrote this at 2am at a sudden burst of inspiration and motivation.

notes: modern setting, y/n and arlecchino are famous actresses, fem!reader, gentle!arlecchino, hanahaki au

“And how long will filming take?” You sighed, biting down on a hateful tone as you looked at your assistant.

“Roughly a year, Ms. Y/N.” Your assistant replied, clicking a few buttons on her tablet.

“How much is Furina offering to have me star in it with her?”

“$10,000,000 Mora, Ms. Y/N.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, despite your makeup artist’s ‘friendly reminder’. That amount could be worth the turmoil and agony to have to be in a constant space with… her.

“Arlecchino has already signed on board to the project. Ms. Furina is waiting to hear from you.” Your assistant looks up at you. “Surely you would not pass up a deal like that just because she is in it?”

“Shut it, Navia.” You scowl.

Navia laughs. “I jest, Ms. Y/N. What about Arlecchino do you dislike anyways? I heard she is kind and respectful.”

“Yeah, like that gives you a golden star.” You rolled your eyes, finishing your glass of wine. It wasn’t that you disliked or loathed the actress. You respected her upbringing and career and found honor in being in the same tier as her. But something about her rubbed you the wrong way. Every time you watched one of her press interviews or promo videos, your stomach would feel ill, hollowing itself out and making your legs kick in the air like a kid on Christmas. Simply sickening and rotten. And now you were to do an entire movie with her. 

“Hmn, fine. I’ll take it.” You sighed, leaning back on your couch. All for the Mora. All of the Mora. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s just one year. You survived with lousy and inadequate ‘colleagues’. Certainly you’d be able to survive the bane of your existence.

“Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you. It is a pleasure to finally meet and talk to you in person.” A familiar voice you only heard from behind the screen was now playing behind you. You turned your body, a curt smile on your face as you faced the disgustingly tall and surprisingly built woman (that looked so much bigger than what you saw on a screen), a dumb, cute and sweet grin plastered on her face. You acquiesced her offer, shaking her hand.

“And I share the same sentiment as you do, Arlecchino.” You smiled as politely as you could muster, suppressing your inner self and pummeling it for the sake of face. “I look…forward to working with you.”

Arlecchino’s lips turned into a thin line, her crimson eyes boring into yours, as if peering into your body to find that soul she tortured with just her appearance. You kept your smile, withdrawing your hand. “How was your flight here?”

Shock and surprise pierced that air tight smile of yours, allowing it to falter for a second. “I beg your pardon?”

“How was your flight?” Arlecchino repeated her question, an amused smile on her stupidly perfect and gorgeous face.

“It was… good.” You stammered, folding your arms.

Arlecchino chuckled. “Vague but straight to the point.”

“I prefer things to be like that.”

Arlecchino grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder. You had to bite back a shriek or gasp, nails digging into your palm as you tried to remain a smile. “Let us go to rehearsal, hmn? I’m certain Furina is eagerly waiting for us.”

A blockade started to emerge in your throat, your nails drawing blood as you nodded your head. “Sure, yeah, yeah. You go on ahead. I need to do something real quick.” You said, hoping Arlecchino would buy it.

“Alright then.” And she did, that lovely gullible soul. The minute Arlecchino walked out of earshot, a violent cough erupted from your throat, causing you to double over until it subsided. Looking down, you noticed a lone cherry blossom petal right by your feet. You massaged your throat, hoping to alleviate the sudden pain. Had that petal been there all along? But you were standing on open land without a tree in sight. Furina’s movie synopsis did not mention any cherry blossom trees. Surely, you couldn't have coughed up a petal. No, you did not cough up a petal. That stuff was out of the movies, not in reality. Your mind recalled back to an old movie you shot once, about the protagonist suffering from something called hanahaki disease, where the victim would cough up petals because of their love for someone. The protagonist was lovesick and had their eyes set on the other character, but died because the other person did not return their feelings. This wasn’t happening to you. Yes, the movie was based off of a true story, but certainly not. You were certain you were hallucinating. 

“Y/N!” You heard Arlecchino’s voice call your name from afar. 

“C-Coming!” No. You had to get yourself together. Come on, this was Arlecchino. That… elegant, beautiful, eloquent asshole who you always watched from afar but never had the chance to be with up close. But now you could. And this was how you reacted? Your stomach churned, as you swallowed anymore nonexistent petals down into your vat of acid before making your way to everyone.

Filming wasn’t too bad in the first few weeks. You and Arlecchino were to play star crossed lovers, and all that was scheduled was basic exposition. No petals came up, which supported your case that you were just hallucinating and definitely not a fictional disease. Until it came to the more intimate scenes.

“Alright, and action!” Furina exclaimed. Arlecchino’s character was pinning you to the wall, her finger on your chin.

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?” Arlecchino’s character sneered, her eyes boring into yours, her lips getting dangerously close.

“I-” You ducked your head in time to not cough into Arlecchino’s face, bringing a hand over your mouth as you coughed loudly, the air escaping your body as you wheezed. 

“Cut! Everyone, take ten!” Furina yelled, and the crew murmured and resetted everything because of your sudden cough.

“Are you alright?” Arlecchino placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles in an effort to comfort you, her voice soft and gentle. A complete contrast of her character she portrayed. That did not comfort you at all, rather stir up a bubbling feeling in your lower parts, warmth rushing to your face.

You balled your fist, nodding your head as you forced yourself to meet Arlecchino’s eyes. 

“I…” You stammered, words suddenly disappearing from your brain, as if Arlecchino was sucking it out with that crimson glow, radiating with warmth and concern, the grin on her face dissipating the moment she saw your soul momentarily leave your body.

“I-I’m alright. I-I’m so sorry.” You regurgitated. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s alright. Do you need some water?” 

“That’ll… That’ll be good.”

Arlecchino nodded her head, patting your shoulder as she asked a staff member to grab you some water. “I’ll go talk to Furina for you. You just rest and recover, got it? I don’t want my acting partner to be ill.”

Oh, your acting partner already is ill. A voice inside of you replied back. 

“Right, yeah. Thank you so much, Arlecchino.” You exclaimed, smiling back.

"Always, Y/N." Arlecchino walked away, waving her hand. "Get well soon."

The crew was busy packing everything up and preparing everything for tomorrow. Arlecchino was talking to Furina, most likely going over tomorrow’s shoot and your cough. As everyone around you was moving and busy, you were escorted away into a car, which drove you back to the makeup trailer. Alone in the backseat, you opened your fist, staring at the item in the dead center of your palm.

A goddamn cherry blossom petal.

No. This can’t be happening. What the heck is happening?! You forced yourself to breathe, staring at the curled petal. Why was this happening? All you did was be in close proximity with that damn Arlecchino, which made your heart flutter and start to drum, your stomach churn and mind go fuzzy, legs limp and-

No.

No.

You did not have a crush on Arlecchino.

You could not have a crush on Arlecchino.

You were colleagues. Workers. She was the winner of multiple awards, she was the one who the paparazzi could never get a picture of, she was everything and you… you were…nothing. Nothing compared to what Arlecchino had done. 

Yet you were here, forced to work together with her and even have to do intimate scenes with-

God strike me here and now. Or make me go into a fatal accident. You silently prayed to anyone who was listening. 

Arlecchino would not be the reason you coughed and hacked up flower petals.

You refused to believe those soft crimson glow in her eyes she always had with you, those thin lips that always curled into a smile when you walked in the room, and those fingers that found a way to your shoulder, or cheek, or your waist would be the reason why you were coughing up petals, just like-

Hanahaki. The word taunted you. No. That couldn’t be. 

You refused to believe you had fallen in love with Arlecchino, let alone die because of it. No. As long as you could breathe, you would not let yourself be a victim of love that you will never receive and have. 

Arlecchino was going to be the reason the newspaper headline would read ‘Y/N FOUND DEAD IN HER BEDROOM FROM HANAHAKI DISEASE’ and lead numerous people to speculate who your Romeo was. 

But in that ill state you were, a tiny part of you was at ease with that scenario.

[chvoswxtch]

oi, matt! can i get a macchiato? mayhaps over ice if that’s what the barista has to offer today….

matt x assistant!reader at nelson and murdock is one of my favourite flavours ever. i just neeeeed your take on it.

you know I had to kick off the celebration with this slut (works for you or matty) <3 also just so you know I could've kept going with this forever but tumblr told me to shut up bc apparently there's a word limit on answering asks but you get the picture ;)

as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

matt murdock is an hr nightmare

when foggy mentions that nelson & murdock could desperately use an assistant since karen is now at the bulletin, before matt even has a chance to speak, foggy is warning him to keep his dick in his pants

and when matt pulls that face (you know the one, the "she wanted to teach me" look of faux innocence) foggy reminds matt that not only is he a whore but he also has a history of being tempted by forbidden fruit (he probably fucked all the female interns at landman and zack, and then there's karen who he would've slept with if frank & elektra hadn't shown up but that's a different story for a different day)

matt does the lil "i cross my heart" thing and swears to foggy that he won't get involved with the new assistant

he also makes this promise to himself bc let's face it he's a human disaster who's life is constantly falling apart and the last thing he needs is drama that could've been avoided if he thought with the right head

but then the day of the interviews arrive and you walk in the room, and matt knows at that moment that he is completely fucked

your scent hits him first, something soft and subtle, a breath of fresh air from the stuffy office smell and the lingering assault of pungent perfume left behind by other candidates that had given him a dull headache

then it's your voice, god your voice, it's the most melodious sound he's ever heard. it's gentle but crisp, and your alluring intonation has him hanging onto your every word, especially his name that fell from your lips in greeting

touching your hand nearly does him in, bc getting to feel your smooth skin caress his rough palm makes it even worse. there's a an electric spark that tingles in his fingertips and shoots throughout the rest of his body, and he finds himself wondering if you feel it too, but then catches himself and quickly plasters on a professional appearance

it was one thing that every single thing about your existence drew him in, but the fact that you were also intelligent and well-spoken, deeply passionate and genuinely empathetic, while also quick to craft clever responses without your sharp wit coming off as ostentatious just made matt want you more

matt was uncharacteristically quiet while foggy asked most of the questions, to which you gave perfect answers, and occasionally chimed in with a few of his own just to redirect your attention where he wanted it: on him

by the end of the interview, foggy was sold on you, and so was matt, but for duplicitious reasons

matt tries so hard to keep his promise, but fuck do you make it (and him) hard. he makes a point to never be alone with you in the office. if a round at josie's is suggested, he makes sure foggy or karen will also be there. he tries to balance between being friendly while also being professional, trying to find the invisible line that crosses from innocent inquisitions to dangerous territory

he does his best not to initiate physical contact, which proves to be difficult, bc you're a hugger and always politely offering matt your arm to guide him whenever you go anywhere

you're so kind and thoughtful and treat him the exact way you treat everyone else and it makes him want to put his head through a wall bc every day that he spends with you makes this attraction worse and worse and he can't tell if it's purely physical or if it goes deeper than that

and then one day he just fucking snaps

matt has a really bad day. a lead he'd been working on for weeks ended up being a dead end, and matt had taken his frustration out on some petty thug in an alley, but it wasn't enough. he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, late at that, to a handful of voicemails from a pissed off foggy. it had been a grueling day in court, all of his senses were overwhelmed, and he had so much pent up tension in his body that he felt stiff

he was so wrapped up in himself that when he walked through the door of the office, he didn't realize he'd broken his own rule: never be alone with you

as soon as he realizes his mistake, he heads towards his office, returning your polite greeting with a grunt of acknowledgement. he hoped that you'd leave it alone, that you'd say something like you were just about to leave, and he'd be spared from you coming closer. but you being you, noticing every little detail and having learned to read matt, could tell something was off

you just wanted to help. you always just wanted to help, and matt loved that about you, but right now, it was only making this more difficult for him bc his self restraint was deteriorating

and then you gently touched his shoulder and matt let out a groan bc he could smell what you'd done the night previously. the scent of your arousal was still embedded in your skin even though you'd washed your hands several times, and the scent of soap was almost nonexistent as matt's nose focused solely on the delectable scent of your pussy on your own fingers

he'd made himself come many times to the thought of you over the last few months, but knowing that you'd fingered yourself last night possibly to the thought of him is what broke his resolve

matt didn't need his heightened senses to know you were attracted to him, that you felt something for him too. he knew it because he knew you, and sometimes you were obvious even when you thought you were being subtle for the sake of both your friendship and your professional reputation

before either of you could process what was happening, matt was devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, your blouse was halfway unbuttoned, just enough for him to pull down the cups of your bra to leave your tits spilling into his welcoming hands. your soft whimpers echoed around the empty office as he toyed with your nipples while assaulting your neck with his teeth and tongue

in record time you were bent over his desk, skirt bunched up around your hips, panties caught around your calves, and matt was pulling down his zipper to free his fully hard cock

the immense relief he felt as he sank into you fully from behind nearly brought him to his knees. he didn't know if it was the heightened allure of having something he wasn't supposed to, or how perfectly your tight cunt enveloped his thick cock, but he quickly got lost in your warm walls like a dazzling labyrinth he never wanted to escape

you were so fucking wet that it was obscene the noises your pussy made welcoming his cock as he pounded into you over and over and over again. but his favorite sound was you chanting his name, desperately pleading for more, which he was all too happy to oblige

you took him so well, your pussy enveloping his cock in a greedy manner, not allowing him the chance to slip out despite how soaked you were. he reached as deep as your body would allow and fucked you relentlessly like a madman on a mission

his rough hands gripped your hips in a bruising manner, and he was completely lost in a fog of lust. it didn't take long for either of you to come undone and it finally clicked for matt that he wasn't the only one that had been depriving himself for the sake of not crossing a boundary when your cunt tightened around his cock before flooding him with your release

matt waited until the absolute last possible second, swiftly pulling out with a hiss as he replaced your pussy with his right hand, stroking his cock at an inhuman speed just a few times before coating your ass in ropes of his come

he collapsed in his chair, but not without wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down with him. the sound of heavy panting filled his office, and the air was humid and drenched in the scent of sex. matt nuzzled his face into your neck, hugging your back to his chest while the two of you attempted to catch your breath

he's able to pick up on the fact that your heart is still racing not bc of the incredible spontaneous sex, but also out of anxiety about what happens next, so matt decides to break the silence first

"I uh...know this is kinda backwards but, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner?"

in conclusion, he's a fucking menace

[theminecraftbee]

so a thing this fandom does that remains FASCINATING to me, as a function of the fact a lot of this fandom is people's first fandom or only current fandom, is just... assume a lot of things it does is a scourge that this fandom has invented or doesn't exist outside of it? or like, is uniquely bad here? and i won't deny that sometimes mcyt fandom is a bit more intense by virtue of numbers, but like...

duo names: confusing fandom-injokes to describe duos and groups tend to be an anime fandom thing specifically for many historical reasons, but they're not uncommon. hey quick--if you haven't been in KHR fandom, can you guess what 1827 is? no? i'll give you a hint: that's actually a ship name. or, ygo fans, tell me the difference between puppyshipping, prideshipping, violetshipping, and rivalshipping. my hint is that they're all kaiba ships and two of them are actually the same ship. good luck!

reducing characters to a specific trait: have you read fic in another fandom before? i would recommend you go do so and come back to me. my example here is "sasuke likes tomatoes", for the record.

common au fanon that's confusing to outsiders: my deep cut here is "when i got into certain tv fandoms i was baffled by the existence of sentinel/guide fics", which is a slightly older tv fandom thing so many of you probably don't know what i'm on about. but trust me: in certain fandoms it's ubiquitous and unless you've watched a completely different tv show you're gonna have to entirely pick it up from reading fic. oh hey, hybrid aus and watcher!grian, nice to see your relative here,

fanon being treated as canon: did you know there's this whole bnha character, naomasa, who is treated as canonically having a lie detector quirk? did you know that, best i can tell, that's not in canon anywhere, it just got echoed through fanon enough that everyone treated it as canon? 'fanon trait becomes so ubiquitous everyone assumes it has to be there' is not a new thing. also, batfamily fans, i have been lead to understand the tim and coffee thing is also this.

characters being treated badly to make a different dynamic look better: the fact we have the term 'character bashing' tells you all you need to know, here. if anything my one complaint on this front isn't even that it's happening--it's that i wish bashing and/or "not [character] friendly" was tagged a little more frequently, haha.

characters being reduced to their family dynamics: tale as old as time. "even the family dynamic thing" yes even that. just because this fandom tended to be particularly ship-adverse in the past didn't mean it didn't do basically the same behaviors as any fandom with shipping did with those dynamics, just gen. and other gen fandoms also do that. yes, down to the "and shipping reduces them to a ship, unlike my gen dynamic, which is very in-character; why can't people just be friends?" thing. some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

characters being reduced to their ships: some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

The Discourse: yeah this is an "actively running show" fandom thing, but also a hiatus fandom thing. ask a homestuck about vriskourse sometime. as much as i hate to say it, it probably made doomsday discourse look cute.

and those are just like... some things i've seen people complain about on my dash recently. idk it just hit me there are probably fans in mcyt fandoms who are assuming that some things (like hybrid aus or duo names) are the kind of things that only happen here, so i thought i'd offer some examples of other places they happen! i also have even more examples if you'd like.

to be clear: this isn't shaming anyone for complaining about any of these things. lord knows i go complain to my friends about it all the time, just the other day i was complaining in the category of 'they keep bashing my guy'. it's more of just... a gentle reminder that maybe we're big, maybe we're loud, maybe we have problems... but these problems aren't always unique.

so uh. we're all suffering together i guess...?