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lemonlover1110 · 23 hours

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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 1] Offerings

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty.

He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is.

He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem.

“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two.

“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.

“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.

“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”

“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.

“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.

Sukuna wants a successor.

“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.

“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important.

It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.

“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”

“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.

“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”

There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”

“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up.

“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come.

“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”

“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,

“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”

You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself.

“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next.

You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.

“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.

“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you.

You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.

“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”

“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”

He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.

What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.

“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”

“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.

“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”

Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.

“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”

“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.

“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear.

“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then.

“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”

“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”

“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”

“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody.

You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.

#jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna x you #sukuna jujutsu kaisen

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henneseyhoe · 3 days

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Just One More.

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT SCENES(nun too serious)!!! HEAVY breeding kink(i couldn’t help myself), Wife!reader, pregnancy, Dad!Lewis, Lewis being a hornball, some fluff here and there,SHORT! UNEDITED FOR RN! I think that’s it!

SUMMARY: After having twin boys, Lewis begs his beloved wife for one more baby, hoping this time it’d be a girl.

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“You said one more, right? Just one more”

He smirks as he bounces you his arms, your body helplessly following with the flow as you couldn’t do anything with your legs folded how they were anyhow.

“One more” You whimper with a nod of your head, your brain not even coming close to calculating what you had gotten yourself into.

“One more, baby” He confirms with an innocent tone like he wasn’t currently folding his wife like a lawn chair, running the risk of waking your twins up even though they were down the hall.

Days passed and you couldn’t get his hands off of you, the man giving not one moment to allow you to collect yourself after a simple agreement that you’d stop taking your birth control. At the time you hadn’t even stopped yet, but he was still prevalent with his ‘you never know’, hoping somehow you’d still get pregnant.

You’d get home from work and before you were able to take your heels off he’d be warning you that the kids were asleep now so you’d have to keep it down and only asked about your day in between kisses and ripping off your shirt, the answers being halted as soon as you were bent over the arm of your couch and fucked from behind by your eager husband, the grip he had on your hips enough to bruise.

It was clear that Lewis wanted nothing more than a daughter. Of course he loved his two hard headed boys, but a daughter? She was a dream he’s had for a while now. He felt he needed a girl to soften him up after raising two little boys for five years, and he was *determined* to get one out of you. Lewis was ready to be surrounded by princesses, glitter, pink and hair bows.

For the last few weeks he spent time getting you alone so he could fill you to the brim, taking you down anywhere that had a lock on the door or a surface to lay you on, sometimes not even that. The first time was in the laundry room when you were drying clothes, a month after you told him yes to a baby, a day after he was 100% sure you stopped taking your pills. Closing the door behind him and setting a basket in front of the door to avoid any unwanted little guests, your husband casually pulls up your sundress as you were loading the dryer and slides your panties to the side, the man on his knees with his tongue on your clit before you could even tell him you were busy.

The next time he took you down was in his personal gym, him just finishing a workout and you in the middle of your much needed yoga to stretch your sore muscles from the damage he had done the other night. Catching you in a downward doggy position, you felt his fingers shamelessly run between your lips that were covered by your favorite gym shorts, the pads of his fingers pressing against your clit almost making your knees buckle. You slowly look up from your position, making eye contact with him in the mirror in front of you.

“May I help you, Mr. Hamilton?” You ask.

“You already know what I want, Mrs. Hamilton” He responds back in a sing-song tone and before you knew it you were getting creamed on a workout bench, Lewis using his fingers to stuff what had spilled when he pulled out back inside of your pussy. You sat there tired and absolutely bewildered with how feral your husband could get sometimes. Last time he was on ten like this you two scored twins, and you could only pray the twins that run in your family wouldn’t catch up to you again.

The next day you thought you were free of the teenage boy-ish sex drive your husband had. The twins were home and using the living room as their personal playroom though they had their own, and you took that as an excuse to distract them with toys as you read your favorite book in the kitchen where you could see them. Unluckily for you, the ADHD they inherited gave them the ability to not exactly not focus, but focus a little too much. Lewis had turned on their favorite show and made sure the volume was three notches higher than what it was supposed to be before sneaking into the kitchen with you.

You could feel he was up to something as you side eyed him from the sitting nook, but surprisingly he walked right by you, your eyes following him all the way to your home office. He knew you hated him in there.

You slam down you book after marking your page and follow after him, only to realize you had been duped when you heard the door close and lock behind you. You were starting to almost regret telling him your ovulation cycle.

✮✮✮✮

When you two got the news that it was twins, you were both in shock, Lewis a bit more over the moon than you of course because who wants to incubate twins for the second time around, but you both were happy nonetheless. The real kicker was finding out that one of them was a boy, and the other unknown.

“What do you mean you can’t see it? Is there something wrong?” You asked nervously and Lewis squeezes your hand, already knowing how your nerves were.

“Well, not really. The problem is that twin A is still blocking twin B. This is your last few weeks and it’s a bit camped in there now, so they’re kinda just laying in an uncomfortable position. Even if I were to do a vaginal ultrasound, it’d be pretty hard to tell” Your doctor chuckles, making you sigh in relief and look at Lewis, his face unreadable.

When you two left the building and went home, you could tell Lewis was a bit disappointed.

“You okay?” You ask, holding the hand he had placed on your thigh as he watched TV. He nods and gives you a small smile, his eyes not moving from the screen.

“You know I wanted a girl, but obviously god has other plans. It’s okay, really”

You hum. “…Look on the bright side, baby B might be a girl” You smile back, your husband laughing and shaking his head.

“Let’s be real! It’s gonna be two boys again”

“You don’t know that”

“I do. And it’s okay…We’ll always have another time to try for a girl” He smiles wider, looking to you.

You blink for a moment, realizing he was serious. “…Another time?! You are out of your mind!” You hit his arm and he groans, begging you in the mist of your refusals.

“Absolutely not, Lewis! You said just one more months ago and that one more turned into two!”

“So you wouldn’t want to try again if they’re both boys? Really?”

“Lewis, if this one is a boy, I might move out. That’s your answer!” Lewis bursts into laughter as your hand moves to your round belly, feeling a kick hit right below your belly button.

“And one of them is beating on me right now! I can’t live in a house with five boys, I can’t even believe I let three of them plus an alleged one stay inside me”

“Well…Four plus an alleged one. One of them was just on and off..In and out” You gasp at his dirty joke and shove him again, more laughs erupting from him.

✮✮✮✮

💌:i’ll probably make another part to this just cause Dad!Lewis is superior and maybe write an actual smut too idk yet

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starkwlkr · 2 days

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mum said no | lewis hamilton

an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all

After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.

Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.

On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.

“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.

Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”

“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.

“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”

“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.

“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.

“I like science.” Replied Maeve.

As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.

“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.

“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”

“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.

“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”

You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.

The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.

“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.

“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.

“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.

“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”

“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.

“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”

“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”

“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.

“Yup, and mum said no.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #dad!lewis hamilton #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton

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quasieli · 1 day

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[Image description: Eight pages from the comic Mighty Nein Origins: Caduceus Clay. The first six pages feature a young Caduceus and his mother, Constance, while the last two pages show an older Caduceus, as well as his father, Cornelius, and sister, Clarabelle.

Page 1: A wide shot of the Blooming Grove, with a beautiful stone and wood temple sat at the center of a verdant cemetery. From afar, Constance calls outs "Caduceus!"

Page 2: Constance is stood behind her son, with his head only partially in frame. The first panel shows her saying, "There you are, didn't you hear me calling?" In the second panel, she is leaning down to her son, a concerned look on her face as she says "Oh."

Page 3: A smaller panel shows Caduceus cupping a dead bird in his hands, holding it tenderly. The wider panel then shows his mother sitting down beside him, the pair sat next to a head stone. He leans his head into her shoulder as she asks, "Would you like some help?" The pair then proceed ro bury the bird.

Page 4: Constance and Caduceus are kneeling in the dirt, over the bird's burial spot. Constance asks, "Ready?, with Caduceus responding "Mh-hmm." The pair touch the ground where the bird was buried, and soon a bright orange flower magically blooms from the spot, causing Caduceus to startle.

Page 5: Constance sits beside her son, her hand gentle touching his face as she says, "Death and decay are a part of a circle, a wheel turning without a beginning or end. Death is how we nurture life, Caduceus." He looks down at the flower as he asks, "Then how comes it hurts?" Caduceus lays down in his mother's arms as she explains, "Because you loved them." A smaller panel shows a closer shot of their faces as she asks, "Do you regret that love?"

Page 6: A small panel shows a closeup shot of Caduceus, looking sad as he replies "No." Another wide shot of the Grove is shown, with the pair sat at the center, Constance continuing, "Part of love is knowing they will go, and cherishing them with your whole heart in the face of that hurt." Another small panel shows a closeup of the newly bloomed flower, with some of its loose petal blowing into the wind.

Page 7: An interior shot, a number of years in the future, showing an adult Caduceus asleep in his flower filled bedroom. He wakes upon hearing the voices of his father and sister, who are in another room, getting up to go investigate. His sister says "I just don't think it's fair that --", Cornelius interjects, "Clarabelle, please keep your voice down."

Page 8: Caduceus comes down the stairs tiredly rubbing his eyes while his father and sister continue to argue. Clarabelle says, "I will not until you--", cutting herself off as she sees her brother appear. Cornelius moves to ready some gear as Caduceus asks "You're leaving?" He responds "The corruption isn't going away on its own. Maybe... maybe your mother found something out there. I'll find her and your aunt, and find a cure." Clarabelle steps forward, declaring "It should be my turn! I'm old enough and faster than you, anyway!" To which Cornelius responds, as he begins to depart, "Clarabelle Clay, mind yourself. Stay home with your brother." End description.]

Sneak preview of Caduceus's origin comic from Polygon!

Generations of the Clay family have tended to the careful rituals in the Blooming Grove. But when corruption begins to creep in on their sacred space, the Clays depart one by one to seek answers. Soon young Caduceus and Clarabelle are the only ones left, and when a dangerous burial quest falls to Caduceus, he must leave the Grove to do the family’s work.

#Death #Animal Death #Grief #Ask To Tag #Critical Role #CR #Mighty Nein Origins #Caduceus Clay #Clay Family #Constance Clay #Clarabelle Clay #Cornelius Clay #ahhhhhhhhhh #my boyyyyyy #Im so fucking excited for this #and its so pretty 🥺#the blooming grove is so good!!!#i cant wait to see it in full

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wordsarelife · 2 days

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—endgame

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo is absolutely in love with you, but now it seems like he spent a bit too long not telling you that

warnings: cursing, suggestive language

notes: guys this was not supposed to be posted lmaooo!! but i‘ll just leave it here, now that it’s too late anyway 😭

the slytherin boys were lazily slumped over the couches in the common room, casual chattering as the fire burned in front of them.

"and then she asked me to show her how to fly sometime" enzo shrugged as he finished his explanation "i mean she was there when we learned that in first year, so i'm not sure why i would have to show her"

"you oblivious little idiot" blaise slapped a pillow against enzo's head, who let out a whimper at the sudden hit.

"she was flirting with you" draco exclaimed with a roll of his eyes and without even looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

"oh" enzo said dumbfounded.

"she knows that you're crazy about quidditch" theo added.

"yeah" mattheo agreed "she probably wanted to flatter you, telling you how good you are at flying and you didn't even understand that"

"oh" enzo mumbled once again and the regret in his voice made his friends perk up.

draco let the newspaper rest in his lap. "what did you answer?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"the exact same thing i just told you guys" enzo admitted shamefully, which was accompanied by blaise and mattheo loudly groaning.

"you really are an oblivious idiot" draco shook his head in a disappointed manner, before going back to his newspaper.

before enzo could say anything else to defend himself, there were giggles coming from the stairs. blaise and mattheo looked behind the couch simultaneously.

"speaking of oblivious" blaise snorted, before he earned himself a slap from mattheo and a simple hand gesture that told him to get off the couch and find another place to plant his arse.

blaise was barely on his feet, emptying the spot next to mattheo, when pansy and you stepped into the common room.

"hey guys" pansy greeted before she let herself fall in between draco and enzo, half onto draco's lap, which the former only grunted at.

you smiled your usual smile, waving at you friends, before you walked around the couch on which mattheo was sitting. you held up the book you were carrying to him and mattheo immediately got into position.

he turned his body, so that his legs were now resting on the couch before him. he opened them up so you could slip between them, laying your head onto his tummy, as you opened your book and got comfortable.

mattheo softly started moving his fingers through your hair. theo, on the armchair on the left of both of you, raised his eyebrows. even draco lowered his newspaper for a second, to inspect your cuddly position.

"so, y/n" theo said "why don't you tell us something about your date with that seventh year ravenclaw?"

now it was mattheo's turn to furrow his brows. theo looked perfectly innocent, but mattheo recognized a hint of mischief in his blue eyes. blaise giggled into his fist like he had just witnissed the biggest burn and enzo looked between both theo and mattheo, wondering if theo was even allowed to ask that question.

"oh" you smiled awkwardly, as you let your book sink onto your chest. "you mean leslie?"

theo nodded and closely watched mattheo's expression, who's face was full of disdain.

"go on" pansy smiled "you can tell them" she started giggling and you joined her laughter.

it was like a switch had been flipped as both you and pansy recalled the day a week before. you did not leave out one detail, from how the boy had asked you out to how the actual date went.

mattheo was not happy to hear what you had to say (or how pansy couldn't stop mentioning how handsome and attractive leslie was), but he had to admit that it was kind of funny to see theo's face fall more from minute to minute and how much regret was evident on it when you ended the story after half an hour.

it seemed like the only person who enjoyed listening was enzo, who spend most of his time asking about certain things you had said and if you had meant them in a flirting or normal way. mattheo had to admit to himself that it was probably his and the rest of the boys' fault that enzo outstretched the story with his unnecessary questions. it seemed like he wanted to make sure that nothing what happened the day before would repeat itself.

"was that everything you wanted to know?" you asked theo, admittedly a bit amused, as you noticed the panicked look on his face and the quick nod he was giving you.

"why didn't you tell me you had a date?" mattheo asked you and you almost broke your neck as you tried to look at him without sitting up.

"sorry, i didn't think it was that important" you shrugged "and i never thought that you wanted to hear anything about it, but now that i know that you guys are interested in that kind of conversation, we can speak about stuff like that more often"

it was only after pansy and you had excused yourself to go to bed, that there was a debrief happening in mattheo's and theo's room.

mattheo was walking from side to side, as the earlier events replayed themselves in his head.

"pansy and y/n are yappers" blaise noted matter of factly "and now you've actually gotten them to yap even more"

"thank you, theo" draco added sarcastically, while theo just shrugged his shoulders.

"i didn't know it would spiral into that" he excused "i was just trying to get someone to get off of his arse and talk to a certain someone, considering something between the two of them"

"it doesn't help anyone if you're talking in riddles" enzo rolled his eyes, before he got ellbowed by blaise, who pointed at the still walking mattheo. "oh" enzo nodded "you're talking about mattheo and—"

"what kind of name is leslie anyway?" mattheo cried, succesfully shutting enzo up.

"i mean have you seen the guy?" blaise laughed "his name should be the least of your concerns"

"thank you, blaise" mattheo nodded, spotting a sarcastic smile "very helpful actually"

"listen, mate" theo said and all eyes turned to him "i'm not saying you should just be happy about what's happened, but it's a bit your own fault"

"my own fault?" mattheo repeated stunned.

"he's not wrong" draco shrugged "if you had the balls to go and speak to y/n, we wouldn't even be talking about a guy who obviously has a girl's name"

"i mean i get alex, but what is unisex about leslie?" enzo looked between his friends, who all shrugged.

"can we stop mentioning his fucking name, please" mattheo threw up his hands helplessly.

"well, would you rather like to talk about his huge—"

"blaise!" both mattheo and theo called loudly.

blaise raised his arms, spotting a face of innocence "geez, chill i was talking about his arms. i mean the guy is jacked"

"yeah, we get the picture" mattheo rolled his eyes, before he changed the tone of his voice, trying to imitate pansy and you from earlier "he's so good looking and funny and—"

"he's read almost every book y/n has" enzo added and all of the boys looked at him.

"whose side are you on?" theo asked tiredly, rubbing his face and realizing in that second that he was not going to sleep any time soon.

"sorry, pansy's words, not mine"

"okay, well" mattheo exclaimed, his anger subsiding momentarily "what if i'm not that handsome or well-read? i always listen to her talk about her latest book, and i don't just act like i want to hear it, i really do and i could be such a better boyfriend than this lola guy"

"leslie" blaise corrected and immediately received a dirty look from mattheo.

"look, mate" draco interrupted the staring contest between blaise and mattheo. "whatever it is that has been going on between you and y/n, we've all had the pleasure to observe it this past few years. so i'm sure we're all are at a point now where we are just fucking tired. i'm begging you, just do something about this please" draco was more emotional than he had been in years and all his friends were surprised at the sudden concern for mattheo's and y/n's love life "for the love of god, i cannot bear to try and extend any friendly behaviour further than this group, so it would be kind of unfortunate for y/n's boyfriend if he isn't part of it"

"well, aren't you just a ball of sunshine?" theo rolled his eyes.

"it's not easy being nice to all of you" draco send a side-eye in enzo's direction "even harder with certain people"

"hey!" enzo losely protested.

"i don't really care who she dates at this point" draco added "hell, let's give her blaise, at least he's not too restrained to actually do something"

"i'm not restrained" mattheo said with distain evident in his voice.

blaise smiled smugly, completely ignoring his friend. "i would show y/n a good time"

"what the fuck?!" mattheo turned to blaise with a look of betrayal "i'd rather have lucy--"

"leslie"

"--have her before you do" mattheo finished.

"this is really not the point now is it?" enzo asked, with a helpless look in theo's direction.

"enzo's right, as weird as that sounds" theo nodded "you have to do something and you have to do it fast, before she's losing the least bit of liking she seemingly has for you"

"i really have to thank you guys for your deep and honest trust in me and my abilities"

"well you've practically spend the last six years simping for her, so excuse us if we're not quite seeing the end of that yet" draco snorted.

"yeah, fine, whatever" mattheo rolled his eyes "even though all of you were wrong in many things, you're right about y/n, i'll tell her first thing tomorrow"

"tell her what exactly?"

"ehh, that i'm in love with her" mattheo said as if it was obvious.

"a bit rushed isn't it?" enzo asked, exchanging a look with draco, who seemed eagerly as critical.

"what?" mattheo asked helplessly "wasn't that what you all wanted? i mean lilly certainly didn't waste any time"

"leslie" blaise corrected once again "asked her out on a date first. maybe you could really learn something from him. i hear he's quite smart"

"are you gay?" draco suddenly asked and enzo snorted.

"i'm a realist" blaise answered "i like to scout out the competition, see what they've got on me"

"okay, sure, then i'll ask her on a date and tell her that i love her then. is that alright with you?"

"you should at least wait two to three months" draco advised.

"maybe four" enzo added.

"oh, heaven, i'm going to sleep" theo turned around and climbed into his bed.

the next morning, the slytherin boys were sitting in their usual spots at the slytherin table. there had been no sighting of either pansy or you yet, so mattheo had decided to ask you on a date during breakfast.

"what do you think is taking them so long?" he asked draco, while keeping a close eye to the entryway of the great hall.

draco, who was only a second away from answering, was quickly interrupting, when he got nudged by theo, who pointed at something - or rather someone - at the ravenclaw table.

"what?" mattheo turned his head, after draco had not answered and his friends seemed to have noticed something.

"they're already here" draco said softly, before both of his hands, landed on mattheo's shoulders, turning his body in the right direction.

mattheo's eyes found your body quickly. you were sitting next to an unfamiliar boy, pansy across from the both of you. you were engaged in a seemingly friendly conversation, throwing your head back laughing from time to time.

"lydia" mattheo said between clenched teeth his voice close to a growl.

"leslie" blaise corrected, matching the sound and tone of mattheo's voice.

mattheo stood up abruptly and all eyes followed him. "i'm gonna do something about this" he declared, before he started walking into the direction of the ravenclaw table.

"i think he could need some backup" blaise shrugged his shoulders, running after the other boy, before one of the others could protest.

"hey" mattheo greeted when he arrived at the table. pansy furrowed her brows, but you smiled when your eyes fell on him, not noticing the angry tone in his voice.

"hey" leslie smiled. "mattheo, is it?"

"sure" mattheo sat down on the bench next to pansy without so much as another word.

"so, luna" mattheo began.

"ehh, my name is leslie actually" the older boy corrected.

"whatever" mattheo rolled his eyes "nobody cares about that"

"i do" blaise quickly corrected, coming to a halt behind mattheo and outstretching his hand in leslie's direction "blaise zabini, big fan. what kind of book would you recommend to get girls?"

"i'm not sure i understand that question" leslie looked to you in confusion, but you just shook your head. "but, uh many girls like pride and prejudice by jane austen"

"ignore him" mattheo advised "you seem like you have everything in order, so i think it's the right time to ask what your intention's with y/n are"

"excuse me?" leslie asked stunned, while pansy snorted loudly. blaise nodded approvingly and you had your mouth and eyes wide open, not believing what you had just heard.

"well, young man" mattheo patted leslie's shoulder "we've all been your age once, so i don't think the question is too farfetched"

"i'm actually older than you" the ravenclaw looked to you helpingly "sorry, is he your brother or something?"

various different answers of no echoed around the table, followed by disgusted noises as pansy, mattheo, blaise and you answered the question at the same time.

"then why are you even asking that question?"

"well, lane" mattheo started, before he quickly added (successfully preventing someone to correct him) "y/n doesn't have a brother and her father is not here right now, so someone has to look out for her, right?"

"pretty sexist" pansy remarked "these aren't the 1800's, riddle"

mattheo shot pansy a quick glare before refocusing on leslie, determined to make his point. "look, I'm just trying to make sure you're treating her right," he stated, with an edge of jealousy in his voice.

leslie glanced at you, clearly bewildered. "i promise, y/n and i are just friends. we were talking about our shared interest in ancient runes."

"sure, just friends" blaise mumbled so only mattheo could hear.

"shared interest, huh?" mattheo leaned back, trying to appear nonchalant but failing miserably. "is that what you call it these days?"

you couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. "mattheo, relax. leslie's just being friendly."

blaise, sensing the awkward tension, decided to stir the pot a bit more. "yeah, mattheo, maybe you should take some lessons from leslie on how to charm a girl with ancient runes. it's clearly working."

mattheo shot blaise a look that could melt steel. "blaise, could you stop being helpful for once?"

blaise, feigning innocence, raised his arms.

mattheo, deciding he had seen enough, concluded it was time to pull out the big guns. "so have you kissed yet? because i have done that. kissed y/n i mean, not kissed someone in general"

"matty!" you scolded, feeling embarassed by his behaviour.

"no, we haven't actually" leslie shook his head, uncomfortably looking between the people around him.

"well, we've done a lot of things" mattheo continued, easily slipping back into the familiar cockiness he normally wore with pride, even if you had hit his leg under the table more than a few times already. "you should ask her about her first time" he muttered, winking at the older boy.

pansy, who had been drinking, accidentally spit some of her pumpkin juice on her plate and blaise's mouth was wide open.

"mattheo" you shrieked, quickly stubbling onto your feet "could i talk to you for a second? alone"

"whatever you want, love" mattheo winked at leslie once again, before he followed you out of the hall.

"so about ancient runes"

outside of the great hall, mattheo was standing across from you, head down, while you were ripping him a new one.

"what has gotten into you, matty?" you asked when you had finished screaming at him.

"i'm sorry" mattheo said truthfully "i had this great plan of asking you out this morning, but seeing you with him made me so jealous and realize that it's probably too late anyway, but it's my own fault."

"what are you even talking about?" you asked confused.

"i mean you're obviously going on a second date, right?" mattheo asked "you very clearly said how charming and handsome and smart he was"

"that's true, he is all of those things"

"cool" mattheo nodded and you swore you could see a hint of sadness in his eyes "i'm happy for you then"

"yeah seems like it" you giggled, before you shook your head "well, matty you knows, leslie is amazing--"

"i've never heard anyone been complimented so much than i have heard him in the last twenty hours"

"let me finish" you smiled "he's really great, but i'm not interested in him like that"

"you're not?"

you shook your head "i think we could become good friends, but nothing more"

"but why were you sitting with him then?"

"well, he had a book he wanted to lend me" you shrugged "and i was actually on my way back to our table when you interrupted"

"oh"

"yeah, oh" you smiled "if i had known you would take all of this so harshly, i would've told you about me telling leslie i'm not interested yesterday"

"okay, that's embarrassing" mattheo admitted "i should've spoken to you in private, before i made such a scene"

"yeah, you should have" you nodded. "so, are you going to ask me out?"

mattheo grinned at you, before he grabbed your hip, pulling you closer with one fast gesture, connecting your lips.

you pulled him close by the hem of his shirt. your fingers curling into the fabric as you deepened the kiss. his hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, pressing you firmly against him. The world around you seemed to blur, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against yours.

his other hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. the kiss was both passionate and tender, a perfect blend of his usual confidence and a softer side he reserved just for you. you could feel the intensity of his feelings, the months—years, even—of pent-up emotions pouring out in this single, breathtaking moment.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel his racing too. it was as if all the teasing, all the uncertainty, had culminated in this moment. his lips were soft yet demanding, and you responded eagerly, your fingers now moving to tangle in his hair.

you both were breathless when you broke the kiss, heavy breathing quickly turning into laughing about how both of you had acted like idiots.

"we should get pansy and blaise and return to the others, right?" you asked and mattheo nodded eagerly.

"but you'll go out with me, yeah?"

"i think we're already past that" you joked, hinting at the years of longing gazes and physical affection between the both of you. "but sure"

you walked back into the hall holding hands, while blaise and pansy were already waiting for you.

"what happened to layla?" mattheo asked, trying to catch sight of the boy on the ravenclaw table.

"leslie—"

"—left, after blaise had gone a bit too far, asking for flirting advice"

"oh god" you hid your face in your hand "i can take you guys nowhere"

"well, you've got enough friends already, haven't you?" mattheo nudged your shoulder, as pansy's eyes fell on your connected hands.

"took you long enough" she smiled, before all of you walked into the direction of the slytherin table.

as you approached, the group noticed your intertwined hands. draco, theo, and enzo exchanged knowing glances.

"finally," theo remarked, leaning back in his seat. "i was starting to think you'd never figure it out“

draco smirked, lowering his newspaper. "i suppose this means i don’t have to pretend to be friendly to more people than absolutely necessary now"

"i think we're all just relieved we don’t have to hear more about leslie and his 'charms'" enzo grinned.

"speaking of which," draco said, looking at you and mattheo, "how did that go?"

"oh, you know“ you replied with a smirk "mattheo decided to mark his territory in the most subtle way possible“

"well, at least he's more direct than other people" theo almost giggled "i just have to imagine enzo recalling and telling holly anything he could remember from our flying classes"

"i'm sorry that i genuinely thought she wanted to know that"

"when these two can get it together, you'll get there too some day" pansy nudged enzo's shoulder and the boy send her a grateful smile.

"who needs enemies when you have friends like this" mattheo laughed with a roll of his eyes.

blaise chuckled, leaning back in his chair. " hey, at least we keep each other entertained"

enzo grinned, shooting a playful glare at blaise. "yeah, and who else would i have to embarrass myself in front of if not for you lot?"

draco raised an eyebrow at that "well, enzo, it's a good thing you have us to keep you humble“

theo nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "exactly. otherwise, you might start thinking you're actually good at flying"

"now this is just unfair, you're telling me she was not only flirting, but lying too?" enzo exclaimed frustrated.

"you can't always have everything" blaise shrugged, taking a look at the vacant spot leslie had left at the ravenclaw table "at least that way there are still girls left for the rest of us"

"you do realize that y/n is not really left anymore, right?" theo ellbowed the other boy.

"well, y/n" blaise smirked "i'm sure mattheo has never even seen a copy of jane austens pride and prejudice, but guess who read it, you're right this lovely—"

"oh hell no" mattheo quickly shook his head, as he clasped a hand over blaise's mouth. "don't you even start, bethany"

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dragoneyes618 · 3 days

Text

"A Jew passed in front of Hadrian [ the second-century Roman emperor] and greeted him. The king asked, "Who are you?" He answered, "I am a Jew." Hadrian exclaimed, "How dare a Jew pass in front of Hadrian and greet him?" and ordered, "Off with his head!" Another Jew passed and, seeing what happened to the first man, did not greet him. Hadrian asked, "Who are you?" He answered, "A Jew." He exclaimed, "How dare a Jew pass in front of Hadrian without giving a greeting?" and again ordered, "Off with his head!" His senators said, "We cannot understand your actions. He who greeted you was put to death, and he who did not greet you was put to death!" Hadrian replied, "Do you dare to advise me how I am to deal with those I hate?"

- Lamentations Rabbah 3:9 commenting on verse 3:58

Hadrian acknowledged what most antisemites deny: Their hatred of Jews is unassuageable by any Jewish behavior. Thus, antisemites who fault Jews for "pushing in where they are not wanted" presumably would find no fault with those Jews who ghettoize themselves and remain within their own community. Yet studies have shown that the very antisemites who despise Jews for their "incursions" into the majority culture also are apt to denounce them for "clannishly sticking together."

Antisemites frequently reach for the argument that sounds most plausible. Thus, Jew-haters in the former Soviet Union long focused on Jews as capitalists who were subverting communism, while American antisemites accused Jews of being communists and subverting capitalism.

It is useless to try to reason with these disciples of Hadrian. As the nineteenth-century German historian Theodore Momsen noted: "You are mistaken if you believe that anything at all can be achieved by reason. In years past I thought so myself and kept protesting against the monstrous infamy that is antisemitism. But it is uselss, completely useless" (cited in Deborah Lipstadt, Denying the Holocaust, page 1)."

- Jewish Wisdom, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, pages 463-464

#joseph telushkin #jewish wisdom #emperor hadrian #talmud #gemara #antisemitism #judaism #jumblr

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arttsuka · 2 days

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Request: Jed and octavius dancing on/playing the piano like in that scene from the movie Big.

(Your art is amazing)

Like this? 🎹🎵🎶

Maybe they can have an iPad too

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pinkthrone445 · 3 days

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-Welcome Home-

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:soft, fluf, friends to lovers(?)

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary:You come back home after many years and your mom's friend welcomes you like if time never passed.

One more Mother's Day, one more day in which Melissa would go to spend it at Barbara's house and her family. The redhead was already part of the family, it was normal for her to be there on normal days and on special days, she even had a room for herself when she decided to stay overnight, it was actually Barbara's daughter's room, but since she no longer lived there, she had arranged for Mel to occupy if she wanted.

The redhead thought that the only thing different about this Mother's Day would be that Gregory would be there and that Barb was a little upset about the loss of her mother, but she was surprised when even though all the guests were already in the house, there was another knock on the door

-"I'll get it!" - The redhead commented and got up from the table to go answer the door. As soon as she opened the door, before she had time to react, a hand covered her mouth and another hand grabbed her tightly by the waist. A thousand ways to defend herself and hurt someone went through the redhead's head, but when she paid attention to the person who had taken her, her eyebrows shot up at the sky when she saw that it was you with a smile from ear to ear.

While she continued with a surprised face, you removed your hand from her waist and rested a finger on your mouth making a sign for her to remain silent and the redhead nodded, carefully you removed the hand that covered her mouth and hugged her tightly against your body, a hug that the redhead immediately returned

-"How? When did you get here? Why you didn't say something? I could have gone to pick you up from the airport" - The redhead asked, whispering in your ear, still hugging you

-"I wanted to be a surprise for all, specially for my Mom, I knew she would need us all for this mother's day since nana isn't here anymore" - You responded by hugging her tighter as if that were possible.

You were Barbara's eldest daughter, she and Geral had adopted you when you turned 16 and took care of you as if you were one of them from that moment on, never differentiating between you and their biological daughter.

Mel had known you for years, she accompanied you to get your first pircing, your first tattoo, to buy underwear for the first time you were going out with your girlfriend (underwear more sexy than the one Barbara sometimes bought you), she even helped you tell Barbara when you came out of the closet and she took you for drinks when you turned 21. But it had been more than 8 years since you had seen each other, since you had gone to work for the doctors without borders you sometimes saw your family but it was hard for you to stay long enough to see her, although you still talked from time to time by messages, it was not the same as seeing you again and being able to hug you like she was doing now.

-"Melissa? Who was it? Come eat before it gets cold!" - Barbara yelled from the table and finally the redhead stopped hugging you but held your hands with a smile from ear to ear

-"You are gorgeous...Look how grown up you look" -she whispered with shinny eyes-"Let's go surprise your mother"-

Mel walked into the dining room in front of you, covering your silhouette with her body

-"Barb, someone send you a gift for mother's day" - The redhead spoke and her friend looked at her in confusion

-"What? Who?" - Barbara got up from the table and Mel moved out of the hallway letting you see completely

-"Hi mom, happy mother's day" - You screamed with open arms and Barbara almost got something in her heart

-"My baby!" - Your mother hugged you tightly, letting out a couple of tears-"Thank you Jesus for bringing my baby safely to her home" - Barbara kissed your forehead repeatedly as she praised the lord - "I missed you so much! Why you didn't tell us something?!" - Your mother commented annoyed and slapped your arm and then hugged you again-"This is the best gift ever" - she keep mumbling things without stop hugging you

-"Love, will you let me hug my daughter?" - Geral asked and Barbara denied with her head, you opened your arm so that he could hug you even if Barbara didn't let go, your father kissed your forehead and hugged you and your mother eagerly, a hug to which Taylor your sister also joined

-"Mel come here too" - You invited the redhead who was watching the whole scene from the side. Mel laughed and also joined in the family hug.

When Barbara finally let go of you and stopped crying and praising the lord because you had come home, the meal resumed its course and you sat down next to Mel to eat.

As if time hadn't passed, you and Mel were already whispering about things while eating, which caused your mother to scold you for talking about gossip and things that weren't appropriate for the table, especially having a guest like Gregory.

When the meal was over and your mother went to talk to Gregory, you and Mel cleared the table and started washing and drying the dishes together

-"Soooo... How is the relationship with that firefighter?" - You asked raising your eyebrows trying to bring out the true tone of the question

-"What relationship? I was just following your advice and have sex without attachment, casual as you called it...But it didn't work that much, I need some kind of connection to have good sex. So I stopped seeing him"-Mel responded by drying a plate harder than necessary

-"It was so funny when Mom found out, she called me and told me about it and asked me what Bridgeton was, I told her to watch it and then she called me mad because it had naked people and steamy sex on it... I'm sorry it didn't work tho..."-You replied with a little smile

-"It's okay, it was worth trying at least to know what I want" - she replied

-"The only thing left for you to try is to date a woman, I know you've always been curious about that" - You joked and she rolled her eyes laughing- "Remember my first girlfriend? The one that you told me to bring to your house to meet her and see if she was good for me, when she went she brought marijuana cigarettes to your house and you kick her out, but you end up keeping the cigarettes and we ended up smoking together, and then you cooked the tastiest pasta I've ever eaten in my entire life. Remember?"-You commented, putting the last dishes on the cabinet and she nodded laughing

-"You have to admit she was an asshole, she was texting other people while she was there, that's why I kicked her out, she was no good enough for you, and the cigarettes were the price she had to pay for being stupid" - she muttered and you rolled your eyes walking into the living room sitting down and turning on the TV

-"She was an asshole, but you also never liked any of my girlfriends..."-The redhead laughed sitting next to you and passing you some popcorn that she had done in the microwave and then taking out her needles and yarn to start knitting while watching TV

-"I just wanted to take care of you... I imagine that now that you were on your own 8 years you didn't need my help to choose someone" - The redhead commented, knitting in concentration and you took the opportunity to look at her features carefully

-"I needed you more that you imagine... I really missed you Mel, you and this silly conversations" - You murmured and put your feet on her lap, she settled down so that you were comfortable and she could continue knitting without disturbing you

-"I missed you too Hon, a lot...There is some stuff I can't talk to your mom" - Mel looked at you smiling and you smiled back, looking at how her hand moved while she was moving the needles

-"Tell me about it, she will brun me with her eyes and judge me if I tell her all the stuff that you already know... What are you knitting there?" - You asked with a frown

-"I'm making you a scarf, I remember how you told me that most of the countries you go to help are cold, I don't want you to get sick" - She showed you the color of the yarn and it was no coincidence that it was your favorite

-"That's sweet... But I'm not coming back to work that far away again... I miss being close to you all, I miss home... I got a new job in one of the hospitals here... But I still want the scarf please..."-You mumbled and filled your mouth with popcorn

-"You are staying?"-Melissa put the needles aside and you nodded chewing, her eyes had a particular sparkle that you hadn't seen before, as if she was going to cry but at the same time she was overflowing with joy-"I can't belive it! You are staying!!" - The redhead put everything aside and pounced on you on the couch hugging you tightly, catching you in her arms, letting you trapped between her and the couch

-"Wow Mel" - You started laughing and hugged her back- "I didn't know you missed me so much" - happy you hid in her neck

-"I did, you have no idea... I don't have someone to smoke weed with beside you, and now your mom will stop complaining with me how worried she is about you living in other country with no place of your own to stay" - The redhead murmured against your hair, very happy at the news you had given her. For a few more moments you took the opportunity to enjoy the hug and the warmth of the woman, even though the hug was lasting longer than normal, you were very comfortable in her arms. It wasn't until your father, who was in the garden outside with the guests, decided to enter the house, that the woman stopped hugging you. The redhead picked up her knitting needles again, but with a smile that nothing could erase and you got your attention bact to the TV but sitting closer to her

-"You know... When you use your leather jacket, you look like poison ivi with your red hair, you should dress like that next Halloween" - You muttered eating the popcorn and letting your leg brush hers

-"And you are crazy like Harley Queen, maybe we should dress up like that together for next Halloween, we could have matching costumes from now on, now that you are back"-she commented and you nodded in agreement

-"Hey..."-Mel called your attention and you looked at her-"Do you want to go with me to my mother's house now in the afternoon? My Ma also missed you, she will be happy to see you..."- The redhead comment a little nervous

-"Sure, Mom will be probably a while with Eddie, so I don't have more plans" - You answered, it wouldn't be the first time you would be at her mother's house since when you were younger you used to go there often to eat the delicious food.

When the time came, Mel drove to her mother's house with you in the passenger seat. Upon arrival, the redhead put her hand behind the back of your seat so she could park in reverse. Her focused face and the position she was in made you stare at her longer than was considered appropriate but she didn't realized.

The redhead had 8 siblings and they all got together for Mother's Day, the only excuse not to go was if you were in prison, that's why only one of her brothers was missing. You really liked going to see her mother, you liked big families and they always made you feel at home, besides they were crazy and always made you laugh.

When you entered the house, everyone greeted you with big hugs and a kiss on each cheek. Mel's sisters began to fight and threaten the redhead and then ended up hugging her. The smell of food clouded all your senses and the warmth of the house made you feel at peace. The furniture was covered with plastic just like in Mel's house. Italian music played in the background as the redhead's mother sang and cooked. There were a lot of kids running and playing around the house, which you assumed were the redhead's nephews. There were some family members watching TV and others arranging the table, everything was a complete caos and at the same time everything was in perfect balance.

When you finished greeting the extended family, everything was ready to start eating.

You were too focused on how delicious the food was to pay attention to the topic of conversation they were having, it wasn't until Mel lightly kicked your foot under the table that you finally looked up from your plate

-"Help me" - she whispered only for you to hear

-"And when are you going to bring a boyfriend home? I won't be alive forever and I want to see you happy. Can't you see it breaks my heart to see you single"-Mel's mother reprimanded her in an annoyed tone and you laughed, earning yourself another kick from the redhead under the table-"You bambina, you should help her pick someone, I bet that you have many lovers behind you" - Mel's mother turned to you and you shook your head

-"I'm not very good at choosing partners, I don't know if I could help her much."-You commented laughing and Mel saw her chance to get revenge of you laughing at her

-"She is also single Ma, I don't think she is the right person to give me advice" - The redhead commented with a mocking smile

-"Maybe I wouldn't be single if you didn't kick every girl that showed interest on me" - You muttered under your breath

-"Wait, you are gay?" - Melissa's mother asked, and you nodded blushing

-"It's that a bad thing in this house?" - You asked and she shook her head and clasped her hands together

-"Not at all bambina! It's perfetto, you are single, pretty and gay, you should date my Melissa" - The woman commented very happily and you looked at the redhead who was already looking at you, after a few seconds of seriously looking at each other, you both began to laugh laudly, which her mother took as a mockery at her suggestion and hit you both on the head with the wooden spoon she was using to stir the sauce a few minutes ago.

After the meal and several glasses of wine, as it was tradition in Mel's house to get drunk together at mother's day, the redhead brought you a plate with sugared almonds so you could snack while you watched the TV together as a family, and then she sat next to you. The family were very laud repeating and chatting over the movie to actually hear the TV (apparently that movie was another tradition and they have seen it so many times that they all knew every part and dialog) but being by her side was entertaining enough for you to stay there.

After a few minutes of watching TV, without realizing it you fell asleep resting your head on the woman's shoulder, you didn't know if it was because of the wine you had drunk, the jetlag or how badly you slept on the plane, but you fell into a deep sleep leaning on her and hugging her arm, she felt so confy and gave you so much peace.

That night, you and the redhead slept over at her mother's house, you were so asleep that she didn't want to wake you up, so she called your mom to let her know and stayed with you there sleeping together on the couch hugging each other ,since all the other rooms were occupied by the others who were too drunk to drive home.

Despite the plastic on the couch and the scarcity of room to move, that was one of the best nights you had ever slept in your life, her arms were very relaxing and her hug made you not want to wake up anymore.

The days began to pass and your interaction with the redhead began to grow each day, making up for the lost time apart. Everything was a good excuse to hung out even if your mother wasn't there. You didn't realize it before how much you had really miss her.

Before you knew it, it was almost a month since you'd been back and your mother's work year was over and you were on your way to pick her and Mel up at a school end party they'd attended.

Bringing your mother home was more complicated than what you had imagined, getting her in the car with how drunk she was, was only achieved thanks to God's help that made you draw strength from where you didn't have to be able to pick her up and put her in the back seat of the car,she immediately took her shoes off and fall asleep.

Melissa was another case apart from your mother, she got in the car with no complaints, but she was very flirtatious and bold the whole drive. She kept making inappropriate comments or touching your legs while you were driving, something that made you very nervous and made very hard to keep your concentration.

Her actions and what she was making you feel, also drag you to a previous conversation with your mother...

-"You are spending a lot of time with Melissa..." - Your mother comment while you were cooking together

-"Yeah, I've miss her, my head didn't remember how much fun I used to had with her" - You responded by whipping up the preparation you had in the bowl and your mom nodded

-"Melissa is my friend" - she told you and you nodded her- "You see her as a friend too or something else?" - She asked and you laughed

-"She is my friend too mom, just that, the friends I used to had here don't are my friends anymore or their houses are in another place now, that's why I hang out with her so much. She is only my friend mom, I know what you are really asking, but I only see her as my friend, nothing else" - You explained while continuing to cook

-"I know your eyes... But if you are sure, I trust you..."-she didn't pride more into the subject.

If you only see her as a friend, why her touch and comments were making you so nervous and blushed, why did you like this much her flirting, why did you wish to reciprocate her touches?... Maybe you didn't see her only as a friend.

Pushing that though aside, you continued driving trying to ignore her and what she was doing.

When you arrived home, you let your mom in her room and went to yours, for your surprise, the redhead was already there, taking her clothes off and putting on your slepping shirt without nothing more than her underwear underneath.

-"Oh... Sorry Mel I keep forgetting that you used to use my room while I was away, I will sleep on the couch" - You muttered and grabbed one of your pillows and she laughed

-"Come here, how many times did we shared bed when you stayed at my house? Besides, your couch is very uncomfortable to sleep, we both know it, it's been years since I've told your mom she should change it" - she slurred her words and climbed into bed looking at you

-"I prefer this couch that sleep on yours or your mom's that have that plastic that makes noise even when I breath and besides makes you sweat on summer" - You sneered and climbed into bed with her, arranging the pillow you'd taken out.

Mel laughed softly and settled into bed looking at you as you stared at the ceiling, the conversation with your mother and the caresses of the car continued to swirl around in your head. Maybe this wasn't just a friendship, maybe you saw her as something more but you didn't want to admit it, but what if she didn't feel the same?

Your thoughts stopped and you frowned as the redhead sat on your hips

-"What are you doing Mel?"-You asked confused

-"I was talking to you but you are not paying attention to me" - She said offended, she was clearly very drunk still

-"Sorry, what where you saying?" - You looked at her trying not to get nervous, resting your hands on her legs

-"I said that I'm not sleppy... What if you touch me to pass the time" - she replied seriously and you blushed

-"W-what?!...Mel please, get off me, try to sleep a little" - You tried to calm the moment and her

-"No... I want kisses, please" - she start to play with the straps of your pijamas while pouting, you tried to stop her but before you could realize, the redhead bend to kiss you, sloppy but hot at the same time. She smelled like strong licor and her actions took you completely by surprise. But without thinking to much about it, you kiss her back.

Your hands were on her waist, clenching so hard you were sure your nails will leave a mark. You weren't stopping her but you weren't letting her go on further either. You loved her hips so much, it would be your new obsession, so wide and full. And her lips? So big and soft but so sinful at the same time. Her breath was heavy and desperate, almost as desperate as your heart was. You wanted to stop because this wasn't right but your body was yearning for you to go on. So many year fantasizing and imaging how her lips and hands would feel on you, but scared of letting those fantasies grow. But even if you were imagining this moment every second of your life, nothing could have prepared you to how truly heavenly she was.

But then again, this wasn't right, not like this.

Melissa was very drunk and this wasn't right. But she is so gorgeous, who cares if this wasn't right...

She was your mother's friend for God's sake, that wasn't right. But she was always so nice to you and always looked out for you...

She is older than you, this isn't right. But her hugs and lips felt like home, this was perfect. Melissa was your crush for several years and now your repressed fantasies might come true...

But no, this wasn't right, no like this.

You needed to stop

But you didn't want to

Stop

But you want to keep going

Stop

You loved her

Stop

You loved her and you knew this wasn't right for her.

So you carefully hold her tightly and gently pushed her away from your body and you stoped kissing her, even if your body was shacking to hold her again and even if your lips burned out for feeling her close, you knew this was the right thing to do. She looked at you confused with her hair and breathing a totally mess

-"Mel... Go to sleep please..." - You whispered and the embarrassed redhead turned her back on you and hid under the covers trying to sleep.

#melissa schemmenti smut #melissa ann schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #i want her to step on me #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fanfic #abott elementary #abott elementary fanfic #lissa ann walter #lesbian #lisa ann walter fanfic #pinkthrone445 #abbot elementary

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peppermintquartz · 2 days

Text

Explicit.

Yes, with the Daddy kink.

"God, I hope so."

Tommy can't believe those words left his mouth, but what is a guy to do when Evan Buckley is sitting so close looking delectable?

Evan only gazes at him, smiling in a way that seems to be hinting at something naughty. Tommy refuses to squirm in his seat. He's thirty-nine years old, he's not going to be a shy little prude about what he likes. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirts and the leather cuffs.

"I don't know, Tommy," says Evan slowly, spearing some salad on his fork, "I may need some persuading to, uh, open up to you more about my daddy issues."

He chews and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Okay, that's it.

"Challenge accepted." Tommy feels a slow heat building at the base of his spine, but tucks that away for now. The dinner is really good and he's not about to deprive Evan of the energy he'll need. And Tommy is going to make sure Evan expends a lot of energy.

They chat about other matters: about flying for the army versus flying for the fire department, about bartending, about how Evan sued the fire department for wrongful termination ("yes, I'm on blood thinners, and yes, I'm very careful"), about the first car Tommy restored.

By the end of the meal, Tommy is less concerned with what they're talking about and more concerned about Evan's wine-stained lips and dark eyes. And from the way Evan's foot is rubbing up and down Tommy's calf, he thinks the younger man isn't interested in conversation any longer either.

"Let's clean up," Tommy suggests. He doesn't mean to drop his voice further, but the words come out in a low rumble. Evan's eyes darken even more.

They load up the dishwasher together, Tommy knowing enough about Evan not to usurp the task. When Evan closes the door to the machine and starts it up, Tommy reels his boyfriend in and says, "Good boy."

Evan swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I just put some plates in the dishwasher. That's hardly difficult."

"True," Tommy allows, then swivels Evan around to face the sink, where the salad bowl is sat. "Wash that now, hmm?" He keeps his hands on Evan's hips as Evan washes up quickly, and firmly pins him against the counter when he takes the bowl, his arms going around his boyfriend to dry the wooden bowl and set it aside.

"Tommy?" Evan sounds a little breathless. "What are you..."

"Shh. Good boys don't interrupt." Tommy turns him around again, noses along Evan's jawline and breathes him in. He flicks his tongue out and plays with Evan's earlobe before biting softly on it. Evan shudders and moans, wrapping his arms around Tommy's waist and shoulder.

Tommy feels his pulse kick up another notch. He pushes a thigh between Evan's knees, and gratifyingly Evan allows it. Tommy needs to get closer, and reaches down to hook one leg up. Evan goes along with it, gasping when Tommy starts licking and sucking on that soft spot under his ear. He's hard against Tommy where their groins are pressed together, and his fingers are digging into the older man's back.

"Alright, baby, do you want it here or on the bed?" Tommy growls. He wants it to be good for Evan, he needs it to be good for Evan. He needs to see Evan undone completely.

"Bed," Evan says.

Tommy begins to move, then pauses. A wicked little smile crosses his face and he leans back to make sure Evan can see it. "That's not how you answer nicely, Evan."

Evan is flushed and his pupils already wide with lust. His mouth - and what a pretty, pretty mouth, Tommy wants to do all kinds of filthy things to it - is open, his breathing labored. "Tommy, bed, please."

Tommy is very pleased that he's strong enough to keep Buck pinned against the counter. He rocks his hips forward, hissing at the pleasurable pressure. "Ask nicely."

"I did, I said please!" Evan protests. He tries to push away from the counter but with one leg firmly hooked around Tommy's waist, he has little leverage.

Tommy leans forward to lick his way into Evan's mouth, unable to bear another second not tasting his boyfriend. "Ask Daddy nicely now."

Evan freezes for a second. His hands tighten where he's clutching Tommy, and for a heartbeat Tommy wonders if he's spooked the younger man.

Then Evan grabs Tommy by his neck and practically inhales him with hungry kisses. With a tiny jump, he wraps both legs around Tommy and, oh, that feels very encouraging, where Evan's hard cock is pressed against his abdomen.

"Take me to bed right fucking now, Daddy." It's Evan's turn to growl, and Tommy is very glad his knees are strong enough to hold him and Evan up.

It takes some tricky maneuvering before they do end up on the mattress, Tommy having had to relinquish his prize so they can both take the stairs without falling and hurting themselves, and they're stripping with the efficiency of men who know exactly what they want right now. Evan grabs the lube from the nightstand and Tommy tears open a condom.

It never fails to awe Tommy that his partners trust him so much with their bodies, and even more so with Evan. The younger man sighs into the pillows and allows Tommy into him with minimal prep, only the faintest of grimaces on his face where it may sting. Despite every nerve telling him to claim, Tommy holds still, chest heaving and arms trembling with the effort not to just thrust into that slick, hot tightness.

Evan's eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown and his lips redder than before. "Take me," he whispers. "Take me hard. I wanna feel it for days."

Tommy smacks Evan's thigh lightly. "Ask properly."

Evan licks his lips, a look of mischief fluttering over his face. His cheeks are pink and his hair fluffed up. "I don't want to."

The downfall of saints, this one, Tommy thinks, and thrusts, once, to remind Evan exactly who's in charge, and begins to pull out. "Really? Then I guess I'll just take a nap instead-"

"Wait, no, Daddy," Evan gasps, and his cheeks flame even darker with want.

Tommy is shaking inside with desire but he holds still. "Ask. Properly."

Evan blinks up at him. A coy smile curves his lips. "Please, Daddy, may I have more?"

Tommy kisses him. "Much better." He flexes his hips and thrusts into Evan's hot body. It is so much better. He loses himself to the rhythm and the feel of sweat-slick skin. Evan spreads his long legs even more and wraps his limbs around Tommy, breathing encouragement and pleas for moremoremore.

Reaching between them, Tommy wraps his big hand around Evan's hard cock. "Daddy's gonna take care of you," he rasps, stroking fast and firmly, his callused hand wet with Evan's precome. Evan whimpers, fingers raking over Tommy's back. Even in the haze of lovemaking, Tommy hopes Evan will leave scratch marks. It'll be satisfying to have visible reminders of pleasure.

"Please," Evan sobs when Tommy's thumb rubs over the head of his cock over and over, the pad of his thumb pressing into the wet slit. "Please, please, please Daddy please-"

Another soft cry and Evan's spilling hot and slick all over Tommy's hand, clenching down on Tommy's cock. Tommy valiantly strokes Evan through his climax until he's limp and breathless, telling him you're a good boy Evan, such a good boy for me, and suddenly Evan has a hand buried in Tommy's hair and he's squeezing down on Tommy's cock again - whatever Evan has been reading up on to build those muscles, Tommy is going to get a subscription, it feels incredible - and then Evan is whispering in his ear, "Come for me, Daddy, show me how I've been a good boy." And Tommy's vision whites out for a second, all sensation rushing inwards and exploding through his nerves.

When his brain comes back online, he realizes he's lying on his boyfriend like a huge immovable rock and carefully pulls out to roll to the side. Evan makes an unhappy sound as Tommy releases him from his weight, but snuggles closer once Tommy's got rid of the condom.

"I know I liked that," Tommy mumbles, his eyelids growing heavy from the post-coital hormones. "But was it good for you?"

"Yeah, yes it was," Evan replies, sounding just as sleepy. He drapes a long leg over Tommy's. "We'll be stuck together if we don't shower though."

Part of Tommy wants to say he doesn't fucking care, but another part knows that Evan won't appreciate the discomfort. He grunts and levers himself up onto his elbows.

In the dim light, Evan's an adorable, debauched angel with mussed hair and flushed skin. Tommy wishes he were twenty again, just so he can go one more round with Evan immediately.

"We can shower together," he says instead, and gets a sweet kiss. Then he adds with a hopeful bat of his eyelashes. "Shower sex?"

Evan raises his eyebrows. "We'll see if you're... up to it." With another twinkle and smirk, he tacks on, "Old man."

Delighted, Tommy smiles and grabs Evan's wrist. "Challenge accepted."

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #yes there is sex #i will upload to my ao3 too

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ameliathornromance · 2 days

Text

He first saw you picking flowers.

The Orc was on a walk through the town centre, heading towards the beach. It was too nice a day to be staying inside, baking in the heat and becoming one with his leather sofa. If he must melt into a large green puddle, he will do it at the beach.

As he strolled through the town centre, he admired the impeccably kept gardens of lush grass, bright red roses, purple and pink lilies. And amongst the colour, was you.

The Orc stopped in his tracks, watched you working, trimming away at dead flower heads and picking off wilting leaves. This was the first time he’d ever seen someone take care of the gardens.

The peaceful smile, combined with the delicate way you picked the flowers enraptured him with a kind of calm that he hadn’t felt in years.

You just looked so content, so natural to be surrounded by the bushes, as if you were a deer drinking water from a still lake.

Feeling eyes on you, you looked around to see the source of your discomfort. Locking eyes with the Orc, he flinched, “s-sorry.” He apologised, looking away from you. “I didn’t mean to stare.” He must have looked really creepy to be watching someone so intently.

You smiled at him. “It’s okay, it’s not a normal sight.” Tucking the flowers into the crook of your arm, you stood and made your way over to him. “I mean, it’s not often you see someone raiding a public garden for flowers, right?” You let out an awkward chuckle.

The Orc nodded in agreement, reflecting your awkwardness. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Silence sat between the two of you for a moment. “I’m technically not allowed to be picking them.” You said, after a moment. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

Smiling, the Orc assured you, “I won’t tell a soul.”

From that point onward, he made it a point to go and see you at the gardens every day. It was such a rarity to see someone be so happy in their own company, doing their own thing.

He didn’t like to just watch you though, he always made conversation with you. The last thing the Orc wanted was to make you uncomfortable. It would look to other people, a lone Orc, sat on a bench while a pretty young lady tends to the flowers in the public garden.

Through your talks, he learned that you actually work for the local council and take care of the garden every day… while taking some of the flowers home for your own viewing. “I mean, I tend to them, I should at least be allowed to take some home, right?” You told him.

The Orc had nodded absent-mindedly in agreement. You were just so passionate about your job, the delight and excitement you had on your face when he asked you botanical questions made his stomach bubble.

You never acted annoyed by him, laughed at his jokes and even invited him to come and help you with your work. Whenever he had questions, you answered them without judgement and with such zeal.

After spending his days with you, he’d return home, the world seemed… dull. Without all the brightly coloured flowers around and your glowing prescence, he sometimes wondered if it had always been this way to him. He then realised it hadn’t, because you lit up the world.

The Orc pondered on how best to tell you about his feelings. There was a part of him that worried you were only nice to him to… be nice to him. But it wouldn’t hurt to tell you how he felt… would it? It’s not like you were ever nasty or cold to him, so there had to be a chance for him, right?

He thought how best to tell you: Box of chocolate? No, too stereotypical. Just asking you out to dinner? That’s way too basic, and then you might think he wants something else.

He didn’t need to worry about that for long however, one hot summer day, you asked him:

“Did you know that the Victorians used to have a language for flowers?”

“No, I did not.” The Orc answered. He was sat beside you this time, holding up a Rose bush so you could reach the thorns at the roots of the plant.

“They used to use it to tell other people things,” you said as you snipped off the sharp edges. “Like, if you wanted to tell someone you loved them, you’d bring them honeysuckle and roses.”

“Huh.” He said, thoughtfully. He was silent for a moment, thinking on what you’d said.

This was it. That’s how he’d tell you he liked you, through Honeysuckle and Roses.

Once back at home, he jumped on his laptop and researched. The next morning, he went to three different florists, and got what he needed.

While in his car, the Orc did his best to rearrange the flowers in an attractive manner. After adjusting them five or six times, he sighed. The Orc still had his reservations. Of course he was nervous, he hadn’t told anyone he liked them since… Wait, had he ever even liked anyone this much?

He shook his head. “Just have to tell her,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of the car. As he made his way through the garden, picking and making final changes to the bouquet in his hands, he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks.

You stood at the edge of the garden, talking to a human man. You held a strong scowl at the man, who jabbed and pointed a finger at you, similarly angry with you.

The Orc hung back, watching the altercation unfold.

Finally, the man sighed, and raised his hand to your cheek, like he was going to cup it. But before he could, you raised a hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The man let out a shout, grabbed at your wrist and yanked. You jerked forward.

Within seconds, the Orc was by your side and caught you around the waist with a free arm. He glowered down at the pathetic man, “what’s going on here?” He growled.

The man let go of your arm. “It’s none of your business, I was just having a conversation with the woman here.” The man glared at your Orc. “This hasn’t got anything to do with you.”

“It is, actually.” The Orc hissed.

“How so? You’re just some random-”

“I’m her boyfriend, actually.”

The moment the words escaped him, the Orc wanted to clamp a hand over his mouth, to take back the words and hide them away.

His realisation of horror thankfully, hadn’t shown on his face.

The human man flinched. “Oh…” He said. His tone low, “sorry, I didn’t know…” And with that, he turned away and stalked off.

Huffing, the Orc turned to you. “Are you alright?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

You shook your head, “no, I’m fine… He was just some creep who wanted my socials. That’s all.”

Your Orc friend let out a sigh, “I… I’m sorry I said that. The boyfriend thing…” The bouquet of flowers were still clutched in his hands, petals wilted slightly from the unpleasantness.

He probably really lost any chance now, just announcing that? To a park full of people? He wouldn’t be surprised if you just stopped talking to him entirely.

“It’s okay… I liked the title, actually.” Your words came out small, mumbled. But to the Orc, they were like the clang of a church bell. His stomach somersaulted, his heart thumped hard in his chest, eyes widened.

“I was hoping that you would ask me out at some point… otherwise I would have asked you myself today.” You gave a cheery, but abashed smile.

Clearing his throat, face burning, the Orc held the flowers out to you, “I still can.” He smiled, hands shaking, “would you like to go out with me?”

You bit your lip, taking the flowers from him. “I’d like that.”

#monster lover #orc fiction #monster romance #orc boyfriend #monster x human #orc romance #monster x you #orc x reader #monster x female #monster x reader #orc x reader fluff #orc x human #orc x human reader

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babypinkhearts · 1 day

Text

like the sun.

pairing: gojo satoru + reader

summary: satoru’s presence reminds you of the sun. like helios, the sun god, you attributed.

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers? reader is a year older than gojo, angst (my fav :3), little cameo from geto. gojo is (secretly) so down bad, mention of violence, blood, and anything of those sorts. also set before geto’s defection.

word count: 7.2k

a/n: i am back from my writing slump! i was (very) burnt out from my last fic, but i think my spark is back :) i’ve mentioned this kind of plot once or twice before, so i NEEDEDDD to write it out to satisfy my head <333 hope you lovelies enjoy!

i. blaze.

there’s a peculiar thing about heat.

summer sun is nearly unbearable, and yet you’re tempted to stay under it’s scorching glare longer. an enigma, because, in all honestly, your body felt like it could give out in any moment. the white cotton shirt was rather suffocating. it’s too close to skin, battling the weather for a more overwhelming presence. unnatural and stiff, arms raise, and it’s only with the most futile attempt that you stretch out sore limbs while simultaneously trying to catch your breath.

slight relief is given with small gusts of refreshing wind. limited by it’s lack of strength, but it does it’s purpose in cooling you off. morning training was preferable. it was less brutal — and more importantly, it saved you the trouble of having to spar with an immortal. he never woke up early enough.

an immortal, jokingly, because you’ve never been able to land a meaningful hit on him.

“where’d you get that?”

your arms pause, stilling from their position above your head. he’d granted you a small break. ‘generously,’ as he had put it. after two hours of exerting yourself, you’d grown to become indifferent to the absence of fatigue on his face.

a finger is pointed towards your side, eyes blue and curious, gaze almost as blunt as his tone. the slightest exposure of skin is shown, shirt lifted from your previous movements, and his eyes remained fixed upon you. expression unreadable, a smile oddly lacking. it makes you a little self-conscious, and you reach to pull the fabric back down.

“scar.” you dryly answer, resorting to turning away, contorting your back to hear a small ‘crack!’

blue still penetrates you. it watches, carefully.

“looked pretty big.”

you bite your cheek, sparing him a side glance.

“it’s old.”

he doesn’t miss a beat. he never really does.

“how old?”

a small huff escapes your dehydrated lips, and your brows furrow.

“got it last year.”

before you knew him, to be clearer. you’d elaborate, make it known, but your chest stings of exhaustion, and the sun is, again, too hot.

truthfully, your response fails to provide satoru with satisfaction, and you can tell that he’s got a few more questions (or a million) to ask. but he keeps his mouth shut, and nods in simple understanding. you only watch as he straightens his posture, and a smile — notably, grazing his lips with some strange hesitation — shows up once more.

“break’s over.”

•••

you’re introduced to gojo satoru during your second year at jujustu high. it was like a chunk of the literal sun (something you’d reiterated was so distasteful and unpleasant to be under, yet strangely captivating) had been taken and left on earth, blazing with desire, and legitimately brighter than everything else around it. like helios, you attributed. a sun god.

an anomaly in your vision, only a few doors down from you.

he was unbearable.

if arrogance could conjure itself into a person — if all the annoyance in the world could simultaneously join at once — it’d create him. the product of too many bad things.

and of course, you’d expected his arrival. it felt like the only subject of your entire first year — the legend, the “honored” one. for him to attend your school grounds the following semester, and to truly give the universe a glimpse into his true power.

because what was he really capable of?

“again, too slow.”

you’d come to accept an unfortunate feat of failure.

swept off your feet by nothing but air (and a forceful kick), gravity pulls you back down, and you hiss as your back hits the floor. your head almost collides with it, but a nudge to your side reminds you to keep it lifted. in retrospect, it’s thoughtful, but you nearly glare.

you can feel where you’ll be sore tomorrow. it stings just a little too much for comfort, and your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to suppress the ache.

a body so regularly bruised, you’re surprised the injuries themselves haven’t come to life and begged you to stop moving.

satoru stands above you, a white collared long-sleeve accentuating his pale features. linen, almost. it’s a bit see-through, and it shines nicely through the rays behind him. his darkly tinted glasses rest upon his face. they sit a little below his nose.

blue peeks out.

“god, yaga wasn’t kidding.”

he sounds almost bored. with the privilege of being so careless, so relaxed and expectant, he raises a brow at your silence and nudges you once more.

it’s quietly humiliating. a cycle that continues, until you’ve had enough and choose to end the embarrassment. satoru’s pliant, always awaiting your call. because, simply, he can do that.

slowly, you blink, looking up to meet his partially covered eyes.

they used to scare you. not from intimidation or general nerves, but because they were vibrant. deeper than ocean’s water, a shade unlike anything humane. it puts a greater boarder in between the two of you. a stronger picket fence.

you know that if you ask, you won’t like the answer. but the pitying, mocking smile satoru has is getting under your skin, so you breathe a small, “what?”

satoru’s smug.

you watch as he whistles and looks off to the side, temporarily ignoring you.

and then, he shrugs nonchalantly.

“nothing.”

your eyes narrow. you can feel your annoyance bubbling, and it threatens to tip over, but you shake your head in retaliation.

“okay.”

it’s a trap, you know it’s a trap, because satoru’s head perks up, and he looks at you questionably.

“you don’t want to know?”

your eyes roll, so severely you momentarily feel a little twinge of pain.

“no, i’m good.”

and you ignore his out-reached hand, getting off the floor by yourself.

you’re tired.

it’s well past noon. another afternoon of seemingly pointless training because suguru and shoko had been out on a mission, leaving you alone once more with the embodiment of your nightmares.

you were tempted to complain to yaga, but knowing his twisted ways of teaching, it’d probably only land you more time with him.

unfair.

“not even a little curious?”

ignoring him was difficult. you’ve become too accustomed with sarcasm, and it’s sickly rewarding to see his face fall to pieces, because he’s everything and perfect. infuriatingly so.

“no, leave me alone.” your voice holds some annoyance now, and you’re still hearing his footsteps behind yours as you make your way inside the dormitories.

it’s like clockwork. so expected, you can’t find it in you to tell satoru to actually leave.

he’s never listened to you anyways.

upon reaching your door, you slowly let yourself in, and are unable to act surprised when you fail to hear it shut behind you. you can already picture the sight of his foot nudged in between the crack. you pay no mind, placing your weapon against the wall, and are forced to take a seat at your desk because of the unwelcomed guest who, suddenly, lays on your bed. like usual. peering up at you, a boyish smile illuminating such delicate features.

“what’s on today’s agenda?”

he speaks like that pretty often.

insinuating a we, us, our — as if the two of you are halves that make a whole, and are practically inseparable despite your clear discomfort. unwillingness, too.

“i,” you emphasize, glancing at him. “am going out.”

he’s pouting, you know before you even look at him again.

“where?”

you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, sighing softly. he’s like a baby duckling.

“i have a meeting with yaga, but he’s stuck at kyoto right now. i’m seeing him there.”

you watch as satoru’s head pokes up. for a sliver of time, he looks a little unsure, which is unlike his normal self, who speaks absentmindedly. and for that solid reason, you get the slightest ounce of concern. but you mask it, because heaven and earth both know the burden of his awareness.

“can’t be super important.”

your brow raises, and you scoff softly.

“not sure yet.”

silence seems to bother satoru, you’ve learned. he enjoys speaking, generally taking up time that isn’t righteously his. it’s a habit, one clearly too strong to break. entitlement.

but he speaks because he loves the interaction.

(specifically, he loves talking to you.)

and satoru isn’t stupid — he’s far from it. he’s able to read you well enough to know that he’s slightly wounded you. not too far from offense, though he’s able to see how fidgety you get as a result. he needs to learn how to shut up.

“i noticed you were slower today.”

spoken plainly. and you’re not looking at him when he says it, unable to spot the way he swallows thickly afterwards.

words spew out. there’s not much to talk about, you reason. you repeat that a million times in your head, only opening your mouth to respond when you’re sure it won’t be mean. too rash, and you’re positive the conversation would go a different way.

you shrug, looking at the floor.

“i was tired.”

it feels like the wrong to say. and satoru quickly proves your gut right.

“you’re always tired.”

his bluntness is weirdly shocking, which is the only reason why a small laugh escapes your lips. for a moment, you’re not sure how else to respond — what a sensible response would sound like. but you’re used to his antics, and it’s only a further reminder to keep your composure.

“well, you’re not exactly easy competition.”

you’re speaking lightheartedly, a bit of humor hidden in your voice. and though you feel rather pitiful to be using his abilities as an excuse, you tell yourself it’s a genuine reason.

but satoru is aware. he’s more than aware. he breathes the fact like air itself, because it’s been shoved down his throat since before he’s been able to even understand it.

he’s aware.

“but you’re not trying, either.”

at that, your body stills.

satoru isn’t smiling with you. and he’s not teasing, you finally realize. he’s being serious. but satoru has never been mean. he’s conceited, yes, but mean? you wouldn’t count his teasing as it, and he’s never gone farther than repetitive little jokes.

“what?” and you suppose you’re dumbfounded from disbelief, because your throat feels a little dry, and the forced smile on your face falls slightly. it twinges, unsure of how to read the situation.

“you’re not trying, i said.”

“no, no, i heard you.” you wave a hand, words quiet as you cough awkwardly. “i just… wasn’t expecting that.”

you feel a little dramatic. the tips of your ears burn, and embarrassment lingers across your skin. the floor is suddenly the most interesting thing in the room, and you wonder if he’s aware of the heightened effect those words sound coming from him. you’re uncomfortable.

“someone had to tell you eventually.” and this time satoru is the one who shrugs, peacefully laying back against your pillows as if he’d done something dutiful — like he was worthy of some sort of praise. “it’s noticeable.”

he’s never managed to leave you at a loss words. you’re normally quick with rebuttals, regularly despising the thought of him thinking he’s escaped bickering with you as a victor.

so your silence feels daunting, and you’re both equally as aware of it’s significance.

satoru jumps over your picket fence sometimes. as if breaking a fourth wall into your mind, and latching on to something more sour and unkept. he brings out emotions that are more real, and his honesty bruises your insides until they feel as sore as your own physical body. it’s daunting, and another testament of his uniqueness.

“thanks.” you finally mutter, awkwardly looking to the side to avoid his overall perception. “i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

satoru is like a brick wall. or, realistically, just some form of indestructible material. that fact alone should push you towards improvement. it should be a motivator. but when you train alongside him (albeit, rarely), you’re reminded of your naiveness from a mere year ago.

expectations should be kept low at all costs. it makes disappointment easier. jujustu brought upon the worst scenarios, and you’ve slowly learned to not grow attachments, or be too positive. because that’s what truly kills.

but, satoru. meeting satoru was like a fresh breath of air. everything about him was true, and even then he superseded his initial description. he’s more careless with his desires, nonchalant about limits. indulging in advice wasn’t him. he simply didn’t do it, taking his own word against others.

the dorm bed creaks, and you watch as he leisurely stands up, casual and quiet.

“well, just so you know,” his fingers tap against the door frame, and he lets himself back in, just by a tiny bit.

he pauses. hesitant again.

but this time, his voice comes out a bit louder. confidence declared. and you’re unaware that the tone is somewhat forced.

“yaga said you’re pretty weak. told me and suguru to go easy on you while sparing.”

the door shuts behind him.

•••

ii. taunt.

during the first week of your third year, a mission is assigned to you by jujustu tech.

well — not assigned, per say, but dutifully given.

by your compliance, and your raised hand in yaga’s office.

“i’ll take it.”

it’s immediate, and you ignore the stares from around the room. you don’t falter, looking to yaga expectantly. he’s a stern man. difficult to read, but easy to understand. he acts with logic, and is genuinely a respectable teacher at heart.

and yet you figure that he’s some form of evil, because he looks up from his paperwork, and replies with, “satoru will accompany you.”

as if he didn’t need to think twice, and the sound of your voice was enough to cement the decision.

your eyes narrow distastefully, though you don’t verbalize your exasperation. the subject of the matter is beside you, and you can feel that he’s watching your expression, but when yaga hands you both individual papers, any words he’s tempted to say die down. you’re sure you’ve made your feelings clear.

it’s another ten minutes of boring, long reminders before all of you are excused, and you’re sure your feet have never been quicker as you attempt to escape the mere vicinity of the room. your shoes click against the floor, and you feel others right behind you. irritatingly familiar.

“woah, woah, woah, slow down!”

an arm throws itself over your shoulders, and it’s difficult to not buckle under the sudden weight, a groan leaving you as you push back slightly.

the past year had only provided him with more confidence, and a stronger need to bother you at all times.

“first mission together!” satoru grins, waving his paper in your face gleefully. the excitement is obviously one-sided, but that seems to only fuel his amusement more.

your eyes shut tightly, and you sigh.

“a…” satoru ignores you, eyes scanning his paper, humming softly before a dramatic gasp leaves his lips. he leans into you a bit more. “grade one! that should be fun.”

and suddenly, his addition makes sense.

in jujustu ranking, you were still considered a grade two sorcerer. satoru soars higher, like he always has, and had surpassed you mere weeks after his initial arrival. expected, but still a little irrationally irritating.

“just leave it to me.” he waves his free hand that’s still over your shoulder. “i’m probably better fit to fight against it anyway.”

you wonder how much trouble you’d get into if you hit him in the face. you’ve thought about it more times than you could count. in present, it’s a near losing battle, and you only relent because he lets go of you at just the right moment.

realistically, it’d be nice of satoru to be more considerate. you disliked the passive aggressive comments, and can’t seem to understand why he’s always made them when you’ve never said or done anything to earn the taunting quips.

it’s his humor, you’ve heard, though it never feels as degrading when it’s directed at someone else.

you’ve tried your hardest to tolerate satoru over the past year, after realizing it was futile to be completely friendly. but you suppose he holds up his own barrier at times. you’re only given the leisure of peeking over, never getting the will to jump across. that’s another skill only he has mastered.

“meet here at nine tomorrow.” he smiles, carefree as he stops in front of you, halting your path. he pays no mind to your raised brow and crossed arms, adjusting his glasses so they sit higher on his face. “then we can leave, and hopefully we’ll be back pretty early.”

confused and still irritated, you shake your head in confusion.

“wouldn’t we be back early if we just… left earlier?”

satoru’s face sours, and a clear glimpse of his adolescent mind shows through when he shakes his head.

“nah.”

you don’t have the energy to argue over how idiotic he sounds, so you nod in agreement, and rub your temples deeply. it would be a long day, you’re sure, but nothing new his antics haven’t already trained you for.

“noon, then.” you mutter, taking one last look at him.

the air feels a little tense.

you nearly bite your tongue, debating on letting some additional comments fly out. but watching his demeanor (the pure nonchalance) frustrates you, and your eyes narrow.

“you know, i could probably take it on too. by myself.”

satoru stills.

it had been bubbling in your head since you’d left yaga’s office. clearly, as satoru notices the lack of regret on your face. it’s spoken like fact.

if it had been utahime beside him, saying those exact words, he thinks he might’ve laughed.

but in your case, it just feels different.

“well,” he pauses, and you know that you’ve truly caught him off-guard. his eyes trail over your face, and he almost expects you to cower a bit. it never comes. he’s shaking his head, shaking his thoughts, and his eyes find your again, voice softer. “it’s a two-person mission. so, tough luck.”

his smile returns. as if uninterrupted, and ’normal.’

satoru has a habit of suppressing his thoughts.

your eyes roll, ignorant to his inner conflict, and you ask — when will he take you seriously?

privileged in every aspect, and not one ounce humble. but really, he could do whatever he pleases. the world can’t stop him.

satoru shines brightly at you, blinding nearly. helios must be jealous.

•••

“he’s a lot to handle.”

it smells like smoke. bothersome to your worsening headache, but the open window is the only thing keeping your senses at bay.

shoko’s a bad influence, you’ve learned. ashes are regularly spotted on school grounds, the culprit being nearly the same every time. but she’d roped another into her habits, so pinning the blame was harder to do.

your eyes follow the cigarette in suguru’s hand as he exhales once more.

“you think?” it comes off as more bitter than sarcastic, and you’re annoyingly aware of the small smile that appears on his face. gray clouds around him momentarily, sculpting sharper eyes as they narrow in amusement.

“what did he tell you?”

you blink, tilting your head in confusion, silently asking for some clarification. suguru’s eyebrows raise, and he snickers.

“he said something to piss you off. what was it?”

you weren’t sure what the impression would be when you knocked on his door an hour ago. you weren’t even sure why you did it.

maybe it was because suguru was easy to talk to. a good listener, most definitely. and though he’s assumably been a cog in your self-depreciation, you can’t bring yourself to be upset at him too.

“um,” you pause. it weirdly bothers you that he’s right. that he’s able to read exactly what’s wrong, because either he knows you or satoru too well, or it’s both.

suguru stares, patiently. and there is no implication on his face that reads a, ‘knew it.’ he just simply awaits your words.

he’s a gentle soul, coaxing out fragile insides.

“well,” you breathe, rubbing your hands over your knees. it was aggravating, the small sense of discomfort you felt while reliving words that really shouldn’t matter as much as they do. it briefly holds your tongue, and you feel silly for making it this big of a deal in your head. suguru isn’t judgemental though, and you know that. it’s the only reason why telling him doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

“he basically said that yaga thinks i’m… weak.”

the silence that takes over the room is a little daunting, and throws away all confidence you had with suguru out the smoke-ridden window.

you wait for a laugh, a grimace — anything. but nothing every really comes. it’s only a huff of acknowledgement.

“ah.”

no surprise, no disdainful reaction. his smile stays intact.

you’d argue that suguru carried more wisdom than you’d ever be able to acquire. beyond his own years, it seemed. it was something about his aura, or just the way he carried himself. strangely, inhumanly graceful.

he looks to you, and there’s a glint in his eye that tells you something is aloof.

“what?” you impatiently ask, brows furrowing. his lack of response had begun to bother you, nerves etching across your bones.

another long puff causes you to turn your face away from him entirely, and you wince as the smell of smoke momentarily intensifies. it escapes out the window (once more) with the added effort of your ushering hands. suguru watches you for a bit, laughing a little, though ultimately sighs with a soft snicker.

“yaga never said that.”

for a second, you think that the lack of clean air has tainted your brain, and that you’ve misheard him.

the information settles in the air for a while. lingering, up until you’ve found a proper way to deal with it.

“seriously?”

the look on your face makes suguru want to laugh again, but he merely nods, sitting a bit straighter in his chair.

“yup.”

you have questions — a majority you know that suguru can’t really answer, so you minimize them into the broadest form, sighing softly, a little defeatedly.

“why would he say that, then?”

suguru hums, lifting a finger to his chin as he shrugs. “he might’ve thought it would push you more.”

your eyes narrow, and you click your tongue in annoyance. “that’s stupid.”

your cheeks warm a little as you register suguru leaning in, a sly smile on his face, his eyes shining with a bit of mischief.

“well, it bothered you, didn’t it?”

now, that felt kinda humiliating to admit. and you’re sure your face gives your thoughts away, so you nod, an easy admission.

“yeah.” you breathe, sighing. “it did.”

what you want to say, is that it bothered you that satoru said it.

his opinion, frustratingly, was something you heavily valued. no matter how many times he’s belittled you, or been generally arrogant. you stupidly seek his sunlight, his approval, and wish to always be under his rays.

“okay.” he raises his brows, staring. “then show him on your mission tomorrow. don’t let him interfere, and kick some ass by yourself.”

your eyes widen, barely, but suguru notices, and purses his lips. in comparison to each other, you’ve always found suguru to be the more sensible one. he prioritized rules, only really breaking them if satoru begged him to.

“you have more experience now.” and he’s unable to hide his wandering eyes as they find the hem of your shirt, as if perfectly picturing the damaged skin underneath. you’d opened up about the scar a few months ago, the first year’s backing you into a corner. satoru had been the most adamant to know. “it’ll be different.”

you don’t give much of an answer, a simple nod conveying your inner-conflict.

suguru watches, your eyes squinting in confusion as you shake your head. you utter your next question, and he has to hide his amusement.

“why does satoru dislike me so much? what did i ever do to him?”

suguru thinks you and satoru are intelligent in your own ways.

and then, at times like these, he believes he’s never met two people so incredibly dense.

silence, and an all-knowing smile is the only answer you receive.

•••

it could be wrong. it is wrong. dangerous, deviant, and stupid.

but despite all these bad thoughts, you’re still quietly shutting the door to your dorm room. meticulously cautious, all in hopes to successfully escape a wrath imaginably worth ten thousand.

suguru didn’t mean this, you’re sure.

it’s immature, you’re aware, to head out on your own. you’re stuck imagining possible outcomes, and all the punishments that await you when you return. and yet once more, you thank the heavens, all gods that can hear, for satoru’s inability to wake up early.

campus is pretty in the early hours. the sun not yet rising, and grounds only illuminated by small scattered lamps. it’s peaceful, quiet from it’s usual bickering of your underclassmen. a moment of tranquility before the storm.

proof is what the world will get. it’s the objective of your heart’s own mission, regardless of whether or not it was a rational thing to do.

(it was most definitely not.)

to be strong is to understand weakness. and you’ll only let your emotions sway you as vulnerable. but you’re equally as aware that might just be your demise.

paper crinkles in your hands.

the report is relatively detailed. a street name is in thick black ink, and it’s hard to miss the red stamp labeling the file, ‘grade one.’

a breeze. ‘fun,’ like satoru had put it.

the mind is fragile. nerves send it in a frenzy, and you suppose affirmations are the only way that you can attempt to keep your heart from racing. it’s guilt, also.

he’s probably still asleep in bed. laid beside pillows that you know are too ridiculously soft, and having a single alarm on his phone because you’re aware that he is generally a light sleeper. but satoru needed to see you differently. a better perception — a kaleidoscope of mystery. because, unfortunately, some hint of acknowledgement from a god keeps mere mortals standing.

it takes almost an hour to finally set your eyes on the street, and when they do, you begin to second-guess your flawed plan.

from exact numbers and location, a warehouse is where you end up. battered, and clearly worn down. a perfect spot for a curse in hiding.

though if satoru was here, he would have laughed.

the cursed energy emitting from the building is unmistakable. it’s strong, and it involuntarily speeds up your already-abnormal heart rate. hiding is plain stupid if it’s energy is that obvious. but it’s also still dark out. you doubt the building even has electricity, though dawn seemed to be rather close. you could hold off until then.

you stand outside for longer than you wish. reality seems to dawn upon you at that moment, and it’s there that you realize you’re truly too stubborn to walk away. you’d go through with it, no matter what would happen now.

and as you’re walking, it feels like your body isn’t controlling itself. there’s a heightened fear striking all your senses, and you’ve completely submitted to instinct, not trusting your mess of thoughts. you pray for a little forgiveness, a little mercy, and head inside.

it’s bare.

with the exception of broken plywood and fallen beams, it’s nearly vacant.

the doors you enter through are flimsy, and whether it be your mind in a frenzy, or an attempt to postpone time for as long as possible, you quickly barricade them with the pieces of discarded wood. at the very least, it’d prevent any chances of normal civilians from entering.

every bit of cursed energy seems to draw you towards the opposite end of the building.

and there’s not much you can do when materialized arrows welcome themselves into your vision, a quick dodge being your eyes’ only savior.

“fuck.” you breathe, swallowing thickly. you’re scared shitless, anxiety hardly alleviated by the close call. a hand rummages to the sheath connected to your waist, and you close your eyes tightly, counting yourself down from initiating your first strike.

“okay, okay, okay.”

your weapon unveils itself.

•••

iii. glory in the sun’s rays.

heavy breaths are the only sound echoing across distant walls.

but besides that,

serenity.

it’s quiet.

like particles, hope sprinkles in, and the curse in front of your eyes disperses — successfully exorsized.

in that moment, you truly believe there is no better sight. nothing that can possibly grant that level of satisfaction.

your mouth tastes a little like metal. it’s bitter, and you suppress a wince, too relieved to really feel an ounce of worry.

there’s broken panels from all around. holes in the walls, gaps in the ceilings, and you wonder how you even managed to reach such high places — especially given the state that you’re in.

and despite your contentment, your body sends itself into a momentary coughing fit.

something stings — it hurts bad, but loud footsteps, running, running, running, echo on the other side of the barricaded doors, and the wooden panels wedged in between the handles are broken, timbered pieces thinly scattered across the floor.

both doors fly open.

it’s a vague sense you have. the ability to feel him.

you’ve learned it well over the past year.

satoru’s cursed energy is unique. it creeps up on you, until there’s a realization that the only thing you can feel is him. situating himself as something important, far more attention-worthy than your own being. it’s suffocating.

you meet each other’s eyes.

he seems to be breathing nearly as heavily as you are. eyes blown out, a hint of something feral in his irises. you’re stagnant, reciprocating the attention.

“told you.“ you swallow thickly, a proud, fatigued smile on your face as you look at him.

it’s still quiet in the building. satoru stands a few feet ahead of you.

he looks disarrayed.

“i fucking did it, you idiot.”

clothes somewhat torn, hair slightly disheveled, you stand.

something was blooming. pride? an accomplishment of the unthinkable — proving a god wrong. going against all odds. but every sense, every feeling, dwindles as you finally muster up the attention to fully take satoru in. it’s more difficult to focus.

satoru looks strange, you think. eyes wide, face visibly more pale than usual. and he’s quiet, for once in his life.

it’s unpleasant, and you feel your body recoil a bit, physically tensing.

“what—“ you breathe heavy, eyes lidded as they look up to his. everything is kind of loud, including his stare. he’s crafted in white shimmer from your vision, and it’s easy to spot the uncharacteristic worry in his eyes. “what’s up with you?”

and for the first time since you’ve known him, gojo satoru seems small. though only differentiated by a mere year, you’re able to see that small spec of time fall upon his graceful features. like admiration crumbling, and a heavy heart dying.

gods shouldn’t fear things.

it’s shock, satoru thinks. it’s why he doesn’t immediately move, and why the walls around him seem to shrink.

he’s never been in such a state. every feeling foreign, and he thinks he might be sick for a second.

his hands are shaking, and he’s focused on red. a naturalistic color that’s been too heavily branded in his life, it feels wrong to not be indifferent about it. he should be accustomed to it, for those weaker have the misfortune of having it easily taint their skin. but gojo satoru is not heartless. (though in that moment, that’s all he wishes to be.)

your shirt is ripped from the bottom.

there’s a deep, grotesque wound that covers your lower stomach. the gash follows upwards, nearly identical to the scar he’d seen upon his first few months of knowing you. satoru had later learned that it was from your first mission alongside mei mei. you’d been separated from each other for a second too long, and it’d landed you with a permanent reminder of your lost adolescence. your devotion and commitment to the jujustu world, left on your skin forever.

open, again, as satoru watches the blood flow down your side. a gory sight, and when your eyes begin to slow in their blinking, a switch seems to turn itself on in his head.

“no, no, hey-“ and he’s rushing forward, catching you a mere second before you fall. gentle, anxious hands cradle and guide, up until your body is on the floor, and those same hands are pressed excruciatingly harshly against your abdomen. “keep—shit, keep your eyes open.”

satoru thinks he feels his heart die. if life is real, surely it had just shriveled into nothingness. because as soon as he applies pressure to the gaping wound, you’re frightened, crying out and weakly attempting to push away his unrelenting arms.

“fuck, stop-“ you’re wheezing, too pain-stricken to utter any other thought. a sliver of that unruly color trickles down the side of your mouth, and satoru believes he’s never felt emotion, panic, this intense.

his brain fogs, fuzzy and disconnected as he blinks rapidly, his breath palpitating as he reaches for his phone. his hand is ruined in the color of your state, coated fingers dialing at an inhumane speed.

satoru doesn’t register shoko’s voice. he’s repeating the same thing over and over again, for help, because he’s utterly useless for you. broken in repetition, emotions being indescribably shaken.

the blood in your mouth tastes more bitter than before. to see him hysterical felt wrong. satoru had always been something stable for the world to lean on. the universal rock, who would never dwindle. the task that comes with the title, ‘the strongest’ replacing his own personal persona.

and, you think again, expectations should really be kept low at all costs.

your eyes threaten to unfocus, trembling lightly as they try to stay open. satoru’s stomach drops, and he’s immediately shaking you gently, reminding you that ‘you’ll be fine, just look at me.’

he’s far too tense to be humorous. the wit has locked itself in a cage, and he takes in the reality of being realistic.

gojo satoru cannot deny his six eyes.

it looks fatal.

but despite your state, there’s charm in your weak, scarily optimistic demeanor.

“satoru?”

his eyes snap to yours.

he’s too selfish to shut you up, body yearning to hear your voice, no matter how defeatedly tired it sounds. it’s a little hoarse, and there’s no doubt in his mind that fatigue had stolen your energy to speak any louder. but he supposes he’d hear you even if he was buried underground.

you’re looking up to him like nothing is amiss. innocence sparkles the tiniest bit in your hazed vision.

there’s a tiny ghost of a smile that lingers on your stained lips. a wince plagues your expression shortly after, a curse and stuttered breath leaving you as satoru’s hands abruptly shift.

“ow—ow. be g-gentler since i’m fucking dying, satoru.”

satoru wants to hit you over the head, your labored breaths squeezing his very soul. he’s visibly tempted, and it’s only with the sight of extra glimmer in his eyes that your face falls slightly.

you want him to make a joke. you crave it. any form of banter, you silently plead.

but unbeknownst to you, satoru feels almost angry. how are you this calm? have you accepted something that he doesn’t want to verbalize? what could possibly be amusing about this?

“shut up. shut up, please.”

weak, and fragile, his voice nearly breaks. you watch him for a bit, eyes curious as they study. and though your vision is blurry, and you can feel yourself getting progressively lightheaded, you tap him gently.

you’re at fault. you’re conscious enough to remember that.

“‘s gonna be okay.” the words come out a little slurred, but still understandable. you attempt another insistent smile, a hand raising to wrap around the wrist plastered against you. “not dying, was just kidding.”

satoru isn’t used to being watched so intently. your gaze is intimidating despite your lowered eyelids, and you silently map out every curve and inch of his complexion. (just in case.)

it’s an odd predicament. for a few minutes, you expect the world to go dark, and for your words to end up being meaningless as death takes you by it’s hand. satoru’s voice sounds distant, scarily far, but you’re able to make out a few whispered pleas. vulnerability is something beautiful, you decide.

it gets harder to listen, and you get a greater urge to rest. maybe for a millennia. your soul feels drained, and a long, uninterrupted sleep is the only thing your brain allows you to register. satoru fades when the world does.

•••

“it was dumb.”

“that’s known. why say it again?”

“because it was dumb.”

you know that life has been lenient, allowing you to continue, as it welcomes you back with familiar voices. you don’t alert them of your awoken state until you feel confident that they’re real.

it’s with a glance that you’re revealed, and the gasp of one makes it known to the other.

satoru is still tempted to hit you. but, he settles with a small wack on your resting hand. you wince, glaring as you blink away your exhaustion. you kinda feel like the rest of your body is on fire.

he’s upset, clearly. watching you with careful vision, and completely silent. but all you’re thinking is how thankful you are to have him actually care.

he keeps his distance.

“you got lucky.”

suguru speaks up, staring, and you can only describe his expression as both relief and disappointment. his eyes trail across you, and you’re made aware that your body is covered amongst thin medical sheets. when he meets your eyes again, one look is enough to tell you of his silent order not to lift them. you follow through, because the mere thought of it is unappealing enough.

“i’ll give you guys some privacy.” he mutters, not without shaking his head, and sighing. it’s nerve-wracking, his demeanor overpowering but oddly tame. just before leaves, he looks at you once more, pursing his lips. his grip on the door is tight. “i’m glad you’re okay, though.”

the air is tense. you beg the world, to anything obtainable, to postpone suguru’s exit, but the sound of the door closing after him leaves your pleas unheard.

you count seconds silently.

it takes ten for satoru to break.

“did you get stupid overnight?”

you snort, tossing your head back in slight retaliation, knowing satoru would probably worsen the headache you can already feel forming.

“seriously, answer me.”

you’re weak to his sternness, blinking in surprise at his tone. he’s unrelenting, brows furrowed as he awaits your response. you look to the wall.

“i’m alive, aren’t i?” you hesitantly reply, a futile attempt to ease the discomfort that is clearly present. it only lands you a scoff, and satoru abruptly stands up, crossing his arms as he looks down at you.

it’s not his favorite sight in the world. there’s a bandage around your head, lightly stained, and he’d seen the state of your injuries before shoko had ultimately pulled the blanket over you.

considering what could have been, he’s more than grateful. but satoru has trouble expressing himself, and it’s a type of flaw that can’t be easily fixed with training.

he shuts his eyes, briefly, and exhales.

“i thought you were a goner.”

upon you losing consciousness, shoko had arrived a mere minute later. satoru thinks the look on her face will be branded into his memory for life — solemn, pitying, and definite. it was only with the help of denial that he had moved with urgency, and commands were thrown at shoko to keep you stable enough for transportation.

a surgery later, and it was told that you would live.

“felt like it.” you cringe, recounting the initial level of pain you had endured when satoru had first found you. it’s subsided for the most part now, though you hold a lingering fear to move, worried that it’d cause more harm than good. the flames of discomfort were decently bearable.

it’s unfortunate that you’re bedridden, for if it were up to you, the easiest solution to all your problems would be to leave the room all together.

satoru is a different person when upset. his presence is overwhelming, and you quickly learn that it is impossible to avoid him.

“i just…” satoru exhales, and there’s a clear conflict of contemplation when he shakes his head. “why would you do that?”

you almost want to poke his side, chastising his concern with a teasing smile and small laugh. but it’s painfully obvious that the last thing satoru wants is something embedded with humor, so you purse your lips, and shrug.

“i just needed to prove to myself that i was capable of defeating it. that i wasn’t useless — you know?”

there’s something you’re not saying; information that remains a mystery. satoru knows it. he can tell by the look on your face.

he’d deciphered the little secret piece the moment you had begun to look away from him.

but because satoru cares (in his own, strange way), he doesn’t bring it up. guilt somewhat gnaws on his insides, and he takes the opportunity to vaguely apologize, needing at least that in the air.

“you are capable. i knew that before all of… this.” satoru motions to you briefly, and despite the circumstances, his wince makes you want to snicker.

he watches your expression softly morph, and a more relaxed and delighted smile rests upon your lips. and he debates, for a while, because ultimately it feels wrong not to bring it up. he falls victim to his guilt.

“and, sorry for lying. suguru told me he told you.”

you nod gently, breathing out a heavy sigh. “kinda evil, satoru.”

in an instant, his eyes widen, and he’s waving his hands wildly.

“hey—hey! i only said it so it could push you more. you can’t work towards improvement without some motivation.”

“how would that motivate me?”

“personally, it would push me to change yaga’s opinion-“

“no, it made me feel like shit, actually.”

“okay, well, i didn’t consider that when i told you-“

“because you’re an idiot.”

almost comically, satoru’s mouth drops.

“who’s the one that fought a first grade by themselves?”

“well, i defeated it, so…”

“not the point.”

you’re smiling, a laugh escaping your lips. satoru doesn’t mirror you much, a more playfully annoyed look on his face.

you stare at each other for a second too long, before you feverishly look away.

the pain has calmed, you realize. you can’t really feel the ache at all.

for a moment, you’re reminded of suguru’s expression. that knowing look in his eyes.

you turn back to look at satoru. and you can feel your heart speed up, just a little, because realization dawns upon you, and you can feel yourself growing flustered.

you think you know what he was trying to say.

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folkwhoredoll · 2 days

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by the shore - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader (friends with benefits)

synopsis: being friends with rafe has its benefits

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex), few curse words

request: rafe x Reader, they are best friend that’s are on a family trip that they take every year in summer, reader is good friends with both Sarah and rafe, rafe and reader are a bit tipsy messing around and find their way to the beach and that’s were the smut happens :) hope you can do it thank you.

a/n: hi everyone! it's been a while since my last post because things got busy in nursing school but since it's summer break, i can now post again! thank you to the one who requested this <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beachfront estate where you and the Camerons vacationed every summer. The annual family trip was a cherished tradition, one you eagerly anticipated each year. It started long before you even entered school, a yearly event your parents initiated to celebrate their friendship with the Camerons. Naturally, you also formed a growing friendship with Sarah and Rafe.

Though, if you were honest, "friendship" didn't quite describe the bond between you and Rafe. Whether you and the Cameron heir were dating was unclear, but he acted like you were most of the time. Almost no boys dared to ask you out, not with Rafe always glaring at them from behind you. He accompanied you almost everywhere, even pretending you were his girlfriend to keep other girls away.

But your relationship with Rafe wasn't simply a friendship because of what you two did behind closed doors. It was no secret that Rafe had several experiences, his natural charisma drawing girls to him. Perhaps that's why you couldn't resist him when he told you he admired you months ago. He was your first.

Not one soul knows about it; you couldn't risk it.

The evening air was filled with laughter and clinking glasses as your families gathered on the deck, enjoying the night of their getaway. You felt a pleasant buzz from the beer you and Rafe had been sipping, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Sarah had to excuse herself to answer a call from Topper, leaving you and Rafe alone under the twinkling fairy lights.

Rafe grinned at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wanna take a walk down to the beach?" he suggested, his voice slightly blurred but full of excitement.

You smiled back and nodded eagerly, the idea of sneaking for a late-night adventure sounding perfect. "Absolutely. Let's go back before Sarah gets back and decides to drag us into some boring game."

Rafe laughed, a deep, infectious sound that made your heart flutter. The combination of alcohol and the intimate setting seemed to excite you.

The two of you stumbled down the wooden steps leading to the beach, giggling and shushing each other while your hands gripped tightly around your beer bottles. The fine sand was cool beneath your feet and the ocean waves lapping gently at the shore.

Rafe motioned for you to sit near a large rock, sitting down first to make sure that it was comfortable enough. You positioned yourself beside him, sighing contently as you took in the view before you.

"Remember when Sarah and I built a sandcastle when we were like, ten? Then you ruined it with your soccer ball." You said.

"In my defense, I didn't mean to kick it towards your castle." Rafe chuckled at the memory. "And I got the worst punishment from you because you refused to speak to me for a week."

You hummed, sipping more of your beer. "Still not over it."

He snorted, leaning his head back.

The next moments were spent in silence. You and Rafe took turns drinking what was left from the bottle, smiling whenever you would make eye contact, and leaning closer and closer to him until your shoulders touched.

You took a deep breath when you felt Rafe kiss your cheek suddenly. "What was that for?"

"What? Can't I kiss you?" He smiled innocently. "It's not like we haven't done anything more than a kiss."

You threw him a look, knowing that in a few moments, you would be doing something that friends don't normally do. How Rafe could always be turned on, you could never understand. But you don't complain, not when your hormones also betray you every time you see his muscles strain from his tight shirt.

"Come on, Y/n. No one can see us from here." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin as he lowered his face to your neck.

You didn't say anything, and Rafe took it as a sign to move further, abandoning his beer to the side. He placed one hand on your thigh and another hand on your waist. Your head was spinning from both the alcohol and Rafe's hands, suddenly not able to speak as you savor the moment of his lips on your neck.

"What would our parents say when they find out what we do?" He wondered teasingly, smirking when he saw you discreetly push your thighs together. He loved you like this: submissive as you let him do whatever he wanted.

"Probably celebrate. They've been teasing us for years." You finally replied, a laugh coming from your throat as you remembered the times when they would try to set the two of you up in every gathering.

Rafe suddenly lifted the skirt of your sundress, causing you to gasp. "Out here? Really?"

His other hand moved from your waist to your back, feeling for the zipper of your dress. "It's a perfect spot. No one can see us or hear us unless you scream, of course."

His cocky attitude made you roll your eyes, though your cunt already fluttered at the thought of being bare under his body as the sunset. "We have to be fast, got it?"

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you tilted your body, swiftly pushing him back so you could move on top and straddle him. Rafe, although shocked by your sudden movement, smiled cheekily as he witnessed you reach to your back to unzip your dress.

"Damn, baby." He breathed as he eyed the way the straps of the dress dropped, hastily helping you to get out of your clothing. He licked his lips as he stared at the sight of you. Your breasts perked up as the cool sea breeze touched your skin, leaving you in your underwear.

"Take it off, Rafe." You told him, helping him take off the shirt that accentuated his muscles.

Following your request, Rafe moved quickly and placed his shirt on the sand beside the two of you, lifting your hips and guiding you to lay on his shirt.

He finished removing the rest of his clothing, never cutting eye contact with you even as he pulled his cock out. You made a quick look back to the house, making sure that you were not within anyone's eyesight.

You gasped as Rafe pulled your panties down, your cunt fluttering at the excitement. He lowered his head down until it was leveled with your pussy, his manhood hardening at the sight of your wet folds.

Without warning, he gave your cunt a long lick, pushing his warm tongue as deep as he could reach. You moaned loudly and quickly gripped his hair, your back arching as he sucked on your clit.

Rafe reached a hand upwards to cover your mouth, not too tight to restrict you from breathing but just enough to muffle your moans. Your chest heaving as you gasped, the alcohol and his tongue working together to give you the best pleasure.

Rafe himself was groaning as he enjoyed the sight of your writhing body, his heart swelling with pride, knowing that it was only him who could make you feel that way.

Your moans were exchanged with whines when he suddenly moved away from your pussy, kneeling in front of you as he stroked his stiff dick.

"You said we have to be fast." He chuckled, teasing you. "Ready, baby?"

After seeing you nod, Rafe pushed himself inside you, a loud groan erupting from his lips as he felt your warm and wet folds around him.

"Best cunt in the world." He whispered to himself.

You let out a loud moan as he filled you completely, growing needy and desperate for a release. "Move, Rafe. Make me cum, please."

Your words sounded like music to Rafe's ears, further feeding his ego. "Since you asked nicely."

In one quick movement, Rafe thrust in and out of you, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could reach deeper.

The sounds of both of your breaths were mixed with the sound of the ocean waves as sweat grew on the surface of your skin. You were shamelessly whining and moaning in every thrust while Rafe was closing his eyes as he groaned in pleasure.

He pushed your other leg upwards, having you nearly folded in half as he pushed harder. He looked down to where you two were connected, his cock twitching at the sight. "Taking me so well, baby. Come on, I know you're close."

You were panting, breathless, and unable to speak. Your hands were clawing on Rafe's shoulder, wanting to push him away from the overwhelming feeling.

"R-Rafe…" You breathed out, feeling your pussy pulsate around him.

"Yes, Y/n. Go on, cum for me." He urged you, his pace never stopping nor slowing down.

You looked at him, admiring how he looked with his disheveled hair and warm cheeks. His muscles were tensing as he thrusted faster.

Without warning, he pulled your legs apart slightly, just enough so he could reach your clit with his hand. You almost screamed at the contact, another surge of gratification taking over your body as he pinched your bud.

"Fuck, Rafe!"

He smiled, hips going faster until he felt you cum around his cock. Your hips were jerking upward as you released, thighs shaking as you squirted on him.

Rafe moaned loudly, and after a few more thrusts, he released his load inside of you, not letting a drop go to waste.

You were quiet as you panted underneath Rafe, your legs still shaking occasionally while you enjoyed the feeling of both of your cum inside you.

Rafe was whispering compliments in your ear softly, stroking your skin as he slowly pulled himself out. He then helped you back into your underwear and dress, gently guiding you as you regained your balance. Rafe was quicker as he dressed himself up, grabbing your hand immediately and leading you back to the house.

"Let's clean up inside before Sarah finds us here."

#drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic

367 notes · View notes

linkspooky · 2 days

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Art credit: @/charscounterattack reposted with permission.

INVINCIBLE VS. MY HERO ACADEMIA: WHEN HEROES KILL

Whether or not heroes should kill people is a hotly debated topic in comics.

There are people who think heroes should never kill, and others who think heroes should kill more. One of the most famous comic book storylines "Under the Red Hood" has Red Hood / Jason Todd debate whether or not it was ethical for Bruce to keep letting the joker live even after the Joker killed Jaso, especially after the Joker killed Jason. If killing the Joker earlier to prevent all future deaths would have been justified. There are like a hundred DC Aus that are like "What if Batman and Superman just started killing people?"

In order to explore this question I'm going to explore two situations in different comics, Invincible and My Hero Academia when the hero, a very idealistic young hero kills someone for the first time.

LET HORI COOK

Storytelling, especially for serialized storytelling which comes out week by week instead of all at once works on the premise of drawing people in by promising that certain future developments and plot points are going to happen. Stories are all about creating expectations, building them, and then paying them off.

Here's an example: The Dabi is a Todoroki theory has existed pretty much since the training camp arc. Horikoshi wasn't in your face about the hints about Toya, but there was just enough hints to make the theory seem more and more plausible. Toya having the same fire quirk as Shoto / Endeavor. Toya mentioning both of them by name. Shoto's two other siblings getting revealed but not Toya. Toya saying that Hawks should have paid attention to him most of all. All of these little pieces came together until Toya finally revealed his identity on live TV in front of both Shoto and Endeavor.

This worked because not only did it give the audience just enough clues that they felt smart for figuring it out, and get invested in the idea of Toya as a Todoroki, it also was well-paced so it didn't seem like Horikoshi forgot about it unlike the traitor plot which went hundreds of chapters without being mentioned. If Toya was revealed to be a Todoroki at the training camp arc with no buildup, it wouldn't be as effective bcause we didn't have years of waiting and theorizing. If Todoroki was revealed to be some guy named Steve after all the hints, it also wouldn't be an effective reveal because there were hints dropped for Toya Todoroki, but there were no Steve hints so it'd feel like the author lied to us.

Themes are like this too. I tend to explain story themes by oversimplifying it as "Question, and answer." The story asks a question, it provides us an answer, and we can come up with our own answer as well. However, there's a middle part I'm skipping out on which is deliberation. Before you can come up with an answer, you obviously need to deliberate it, either by presenting arguments for or against, hearing outside opinions or just thinking things through.

In other words, you need to "Let things cook."

If Toya calling Shoto by his full name at the Training Camp Arc is when we're first asked "Is Toya a Todoroki?" or when the theories first started, then the long middle period between Training Camp Arc and the First War Arc is the deliberation. This is when the story not only added more hints to the idea that Toya was a Todoroki, but also set up why that reveal mattered. Endeavor wanted to atone for his past sins, but one of his victims was no longer alive. Endeavor begins to move on anyway and think he's finally made himself a good hero, but now Toya appears to flip up the reverse Uno Card.

So let's follow this basic formula, for how ideas get developed in My Hero Academia and just any good story.

Question / Introduction

Deliberation

Answer / Conclusion

My Hero Academia and Invincible explore similar themes in regards to heroism, generational trauma and how to be better than the previous generation in both Mark and Deku. I'm going to streamline their arcs down to one basic question for the sake of time. For both the question is:

Can I be a better hero than my Dad?

Deku and Mark might be two characters who cannot possibly seem to be more different, but you can actually list off a lot of similarities between them right away. Deku and Mark are both people who in a world oversaturated with superheroes spent most of their childhoods with no superpowers at all. Also, they were genetically supposed to inherit a quirk / viltrumite powers, but Deku was born quirkless, and Mark was an extremely late bloomer. They are also people who while being powerless civilians for most of their lives worship heroes. Deku collects so much All Might Merch he even stole some from Nighteye after he died, Mark attends comic conventions even after he becomes a superhero.

They also grew up worshipping one hero in particular who was essentially earth's strongest hero, for Mark it was his dad Omni-Man, for Deku it was All Might. They also both get the opportunity to train directly under their favorite hero immediately after they get their powers. At first this makes it seem like they've been given everything they've ever wanted. All Mark has ever wanted was to be a hero like his dad and make his father proud. Not only did Deku just want one person to tell him he could be a hero too even without a quirk, but his very idea of heroism is built around seeing All Might always save people with a smile.

However, both of them suddenly hit complication just when it seems like they've been given everything they've ever wanted. They are both confronted with the fact that their heroes are not who they expected them to be. They are overly idealistic heroes who have been dreaming of being heroes since childhood only to be hit with a much greyer reality. To the point where there innocence becomes a flaw in and of itself. The way they've been coddled and protected all of their lives leaves them completely unaware and unable to spot the grey areas in the world, or the people around them.

For Deku the moral greys exist in the villains around them. In MHA Society, villains are basically just bad guys in suits for the heroes to punch on television. They're seen as a faceless enemy, and there's very little in way of rehabilitation for villains once they're captured. Deku lived in a very black and white world before this point, and he's suddenly presented with the idea that his villains could be morally grey.

Deku's image of All Might is a hero who saves everyone with a smile, so he could never imagine that there are people who All Might has failed to save. He's never stopped to consider where villains came from, or if any of them might have legitimate reasons for their grievances.

This becomes a pretty central theme in MHA. It's first brought up here when Shigaraki talks about All Might acting as if there's no one he can't save. Twice brings it up again in his first backstory chapter, that the heroes only save the virtuous ones.

This is further enforced in the same overhaul arc with members who are loyal to Overhaul because they are society's trash who would have been thrown out otherwise. There is a group of people fiercley loyal to Overhaul who is a terrible boss, because he is the only person who would accept them.

edits belong to @stillness-in-green from bring it all back a tone poem on returning to staus quo located here on ao3.

In the War Arc this long running theme basically reaches a climax with the Hawks and Twice confrontation, where Hawks decides to try to offer Jin a chance to restart because he's deemed him "good" but he won't extend the same helping hand to the league who Hawks has determined as "bad." He then asks Jin to betray his friends in order to be saved, something that Jin rightfully calls out.

That Hawks only wants to save Jin because he's one of the good ones, and he's written off the rest of the league and left them for dead. Hawks choosing to divide between good and bad victims ad only save the one he personally thought was worthy of redemption, makes it impossible for him to save Twice who would never under any circumstances give up on the rest of the league.

Twice's death is a tragedy, but it also presents us a clear example of the failures of the previous generation. Even a hero who sincerely sympathized with a villain and wanted to help them start over wasn't able to help them because of this attitude of selectively picking and choosing who to save. If the heroes only save the innocent the I guess the lives of the guilty are worth less.

This is the questio Toga poses to Ochako, if the heroes killed Twice then are you going to kill me in order to stop me. This is the central subject of Shigaraki's speech to the heroes. That heroes and villains will never uderstand each other, because the entire hero system perpetuates itself on ignoring the needs of societal outcasts and rejects in form of the "innocent people" and those outcasts who aren't having their needs met eventually turn into villains who get systematically put down by heroes. Heroes and villains are incapable of understanding each other and breaking the cycle, because the entire system isn't built on helping people, but merely maintaining the idea that heroes are perfect, faultless saviors so normal people will feel secure, while the people the heroes have failed get swept under the rug so society can keep "functioning."

"You heroes hurt your own families just to help strangers. You heroes pretend to be society's guardians. For generations, you pretended not to see those you couldn't protect. That means your system's all rotten from the inside with maggots crawling out. It all builds up, little by little, over time. You've got the common trash, all too dependent on being protected, and the brave guardians who created the trash that needed coddling. It's a corrupt, vicious, cycle. Everythig I've witnessed, the whole system you've built has always rejected me. Now I'm ready to reject it. That's why I destroy. That's why I took power for myself. Simple enough, Yeah? I don't care if you don't understand. That's what makes us heroes and villains."

So if the starting question is: Can I be a better hero than my dad?

Then everything I've detailed above is deliberation. Here we have, ever since the training camp arc, this slowly built up idea of why All Might was a flawed hero in the end.

Mark has to face the fact that his father is a more morally grey person than he could ever imagine, whereas Deku has to face the fact that the villains are more morally grey in his world, and that makes the heroes look more flawed in comparison as well. The deliberation is all slowly bringing Deku to think over what Shigaraki asked him all the way in the beginning in there first meeting.

Were there ever people that the heroes couldn't save? If so then what are you supposed to do with the victims you can't save after they grow up? This is when Deku begins to start forming his own answer.

Deku hears the advice of both the other OFA users, and The Stinky Old Man (Gran Torino) that killing Shigaraki is the best option, but wants to explore other options.

Scenes like this clearly telegraph what the answer / conclusion Hori is leading us to to be. The same way that Toya is a Todoroki is foreshadowed long in advance, statements like "All for one is a power meant for saving, not killing" clearly set up Deku's Endgame. Deku's end goal is to find a way use his power to save Shigaraki rather than killing him. Everything else is just a matter of deliberation, Deku knows what his edgoal is but the chapters between then and the end of the manga is Deku having to figure out how exactly to save Shigaraki without killing him.

You Heroes Hurt Your Own Families Just to Help Strangers

Invincible is the story of Mark Grayson, the son of Omni Man / Nolan Grayson. He's been told all of his life that his father is a viltrumite, a race of benevolent aliens who send out people like Nolan to alien civilizations in order to uplift their entire civilization. Which is what led Nolan to come to earth and become Earth's greatest heroes.

This turns out to be a big fat lie when within 12 chapters Nolan not only slaughters the guardian's of the globe, but also has a confrontation with his son.

Mark has wanted to be just like his dad his entire life. Only to be slapped in the face with the realization he's known nothing about his dad his entire life, shown rather brilliantly by these panels where Nolan tries to have a normal father / son conversation with Mark while covered in blood.

Nolan isn't from a futuristic utopia but from a brutal, fascist space empire. He didn't come to earth to help bring it up, but to weaken its defenses and make it prime for conquering. He didn't have Mark out of love, but to produce another soldier for the viltrumite empire.

Mark's entire schtick is that he's invincible, but he's so inexperienced as a hero that he gets beat up constantly despite the fact he has the strongest power set in the series b/c he has viltrumite powers. However, not only does the series introduce moral greys by continually showing how Mark even with the best power set in the series constantly gets his ass kicked, it also challenges Mark's black and white thinking and hero worship of his father by showing him the kind of man his father really is.

Mark has wanted to be exactly like his father his entire life, but now that's suddenly a bad thing. His father is a morally reprehensible person and Mark is now a descendant of an alien race meant to conquer worlds. Not only is Mark confronted by who his father really is, but now everyone in Mark's life judges him by comparing him with his father.

Mark has to work with Cecil and be his on-call Superhero, both to be able to pay for college, and also to prove that he's not his dad. The unspoken part of the agreement is that Cecil gets to keep a leash on Mark and Mark has to prove that he'll never turn out like his father to earn Cecil's trust.

Cecil is automatically suspicious of him because if Mark were to turn evil, the planet would have no defenses against him just like it didn't have any for Omni Man. Mark's mother starts to drink and blames Mark for Omni-Man leaving in a drunken moment of weakness because of how much the information that Omni Man only regarded her as a pet affected her.

The comic even shows us that in most alternate universes, mark actually did make the decision to join his father's conquest, and this universe is one of the few exceptions. This is also where we're introduced to a major reoccuring antagonist in the comics, and also the main antagonist / final antagonist of season 2 of the cartoon Angstrom Levy.

Levy is someone who can jump between dimensions and has traveled to almost all of them collecting his alternate selves. He has witnessed for a fact that in most universes Mark sides with his father instead of fighting against him.

Levy enlists the clone bros to build a device that would combine the knowledge of his alternate selves into one individual. This device ends up breaking tragically (partially mark's fault, but levy himself made the decision to stop the machine in order to stop the clone bros from killing Mark). Levy's memories become confused as a result of the machine malfunctioning, and he can't tell the difference between himself and his alternate universe counterparts. This means that Levy now remembers several alternate universes where Mark did turn evil, and remembers them as if they happened to him.

It's better elaborated upon in this post:

The process by which Invincible has had to condense and consolidate the plot beats of the original comic, coupled with the opportunity it's granted the writers to tighten up and emphasize its themes on a second pass, has resulted in a newfound appreciation for how unbelievably fucking good Angstrom Levy's whole character concept is. What's that, Mark? Your main emotional crisis this season is your fear of turning out like your father? Here, have an archnemesis who's out to kill you because his memories were inadvertently overwritten with the lived experiences of hundreds of alternate versions of himself whose friends and families were slaughtered in worlds where you did, in fact, turn out exactly like your father. Because it turns out that that is in fact the multiversal norm. That you turn out like your father. And now you're left to wonder what set of arbitrary coinflips pulled you back from that abyss in this dimension, and whether your luck is going to continue to hold into the future.

Mark is not only hit with the revelation that his father isn't as good as he thought he was, but also while he's in a crisis about about whether or not he will turn out like his father, he learns the answer is yes, in several dimensions he turns out exactly like his father.

In My Hero Academia there are families like the Todoroki's who balance the difference between a hero's obligations to society, and a hero's obligation to society. However, that's a side plot where I'd argue that the main plot for Invincible and it's main focus is what Mark owes to the world as a hero, and what Mark owes to his family.

It's not just that Omniman is trying to invade earth for the Viltrumite empire. It's not just that he failed as a hero, but that he failed as a father. What makes Mark snap, is hearing Omniman call Debbie a pet. Until that point Mark was in denial and still trying to reason with his father.

Invincible is about two intersecting themes: Is Mark obligated to use his incredible powers to help make the world better? Can Mark be a good hero and a good family man?

While MHA has more far reaching societal implications in its themes and questions, Invincible is more specifically about the Grayson Family. It's generational trauma on a society level, vs generational trauma on an individual level. The way Nolan was raised on Viltrumite effects how he raised Mark causing their conflict, and Mark's conflict with his father effects most of his young adulthood when he's trying to figure out what person he wants to be (read: not his dad), but also the way he parents his daughter with Atom Eve.

Omni-man failed Mark as both a hero, and a father. Mark feels the need to overcompensate for what his father did the world and all those innocent people by acting as Cecil's lapdog and doing whatever Cecil tells him.

However, Mark is much more hurt by the personal betrayal than he lets on. It's not just that his father killed a bunch of innocent people, it's also that Mark's father failed as a father, abandoning both him and mom and choosing to be a viltrumite rather than being Mark's father. Mark's stated reason for wanting to be a hero post the omni-man reveal is to prove he's not like his dad to the world, and also make up for the innocent lives he failed to save. However, his unstated underlying reason is Mark is hurt and betrayed his father didn't put his family first, and this causes Mark to always put his family first.

This leads to two insecurities / narrative flaws. One, Mark is insecure about becoming like his father so he tries to prove he's nothing like him by being the most selfless, perfect hero possible. Two, Mark is hurt by being abandoned by his father and doesn't want to become a deadbeat like Nolan so he gets extremely overprotective of his own family.

These two things are obvious in conflict with one another: A hero has an obligation to the common good which sometimes means sacrificing time with your loved ones. However, being a good family man requires a level of selfishness that directly contradicts the selfless hero that Mark is pushing himself to be. In the comic the way Mark prioritizes his family and loved ones over the common good and justice is made even more obvious. His first instinct on seeing Omni-Man again isn't to call him out for being an awful father, but to hug him and ask him to come home. Mark is a distraught son first, and a hero second.

Mark has two flaws, his fear of being like his father makes him try too hard to be a perfect hero, and his trauma over losing his father makes him prioritize his family over being a hero. It's very much a having your cake and eating it too situation, oftentimes heroes make huge sacrifices for their personal lives in order to be heroes, that's basically a theme discussed in the comic with Nolan being absent for a lot of Mark's childhood, and why Mark's relationship with Amber fails.

The show also introduces us to the idea that Mark is so afraid of becoming like his father that he deliberately holds back his punches. Which is good when he's fighting earth villains, but bad when he's facing viltrumites who can only survive being disemboweled, but will also come to wipe out all life on earth if they're allowed to live. In the show it's directly mentioned that Mark is holding back, in the comic it's implied when we see how helpless Mark is in the fight against other viltrumites. Mark lacks the resolve to kill someone and when fighting a viltrumite, failing to put them down can have consequences because they are galactic conquerors who will not show you any mercy.

This all comes to a head in the Angstrom Levy fight where Mark makes his first kill on-screen when beforehand he'd never fought to kill before, and even held back against galaxy conquering aliens who were out to murder him and his dad.

However. before we begin that.

Should superheroes kill?

People often act like whether or not super heroes should kill their villains is a black and white topic, where it actually depends highly on context.

Batman’s an entire character is written around how he wants to redeem Gotham and save the city, most of his villains aren’t even sent to prison they’re sent to Arkham a facility that’s supposed to rehabilitee the mentally ill so they can rejoin society. Batman has decided it’s his place to stop crime, not his place to decide whether or not people have the right to live or redeem themselves.

Batman is also at risk for being just like his villains, that’s why he’s foils with Harvey Dent, someone who tried to prosecute people under the law who then snapped and went full violent mobster vigilante. Batman actually is at risk for walking the same path as Harvey if he decides murder is an option.

In X-Men 97, there was a character known as Rogue who dropped Simon Bolivar Trask off of a building in an act of vigilante justice. This action makes sense in context for several reasons. One Rogue was raised by Mystique and Destiny, is a former member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, and began as a terrorist in the comics. She's not really a "moral highground" character like Batman. Two, Boliver Trask built a giant killer robot that resulted in the deaths of millions in Genosha which Rogue is a survivor of. Number three, Trask had no sympathetic reasons for building the genocide robot, he built the sentinels out of bigotry to wipe out mutants. He's not a victim in any way, he's an oppressor facing consequences for his actions.

Batman shooting Harvey Dent, his former best friend, a victim of severe mental illness and trauma that still has hope for recovery, and Rogue dropping the guy who made a genocide robot off of a building are both wildly different situations.

So in the context of MHA we have Shigaraki Tomura, a terrorist who's goal is to destroy japan enough that it will dismantle the hero system for good. Shigaraki Tomura is a ten year old child who lost control of his quirk and killed his family for mistake, he wandered for days in crowded city streets but not a single hero stopped to help him, then he was found by the main villain of the story and groomed for ten years into becoming his successor. Shigaraki is also surrounded by a group of societal outcasts who were failed by society in similiar ways, so Shigaraki knows he wasn't the only one failed by hero society and he starts to wage his war for their sake as much as his own.

In Invincible we have Angstrom Levy. Angstrom is not plotting mass murder the way that Shigaraki is. He is specifically only targetting Mark Grayson's family for revenge (at least the first time he showed up, the second time during the invincible war arc was different). Angstrom's revenge against Mark Grayson is misplaced, but to be fair the accident messed with his brain hardcore and he doesn't remember clearly what happened. He doesn't remember that he's the one who decided to stop the machine in order to help Mark. It's tragic. Angstrom also has the memories of like hundreds of different universes of evil Marks. Even though he's the victim of a tragic accident, he's also a victimizer in that he doesn't choose to just go after Mark, he deliberately picks Mark's family, his mother, and his infant little brother as a way of hurting Mark.

So both of these characters blur the line between villain and victim, but neither of them are like Trask in that they have no sympathetic motivation whatsoever. Shigaraki's actions don't come from bigotry, and he's not an oppressor. Trask was actually trying to do something good before his machine broke and his brains got scrambled, and now he wants personal revenge and to blame all his problems on Mark which is petty yes, but not on Trask's level of heartlessness.

So, there's a case that can be made here for both of them that there's room to save them. After all Mark and Deku aren't killers to begin with. Mark especially has an incredibly vested interest in not becoming a killer. Even if they don't explicitly go out of their way to save and redeem these two people, we're still at this point expecting the heroes to at least take down these two sympathetic figures non-lethally. Mark doesn't want to be like his dad and Deku has said explicitly he wants to save Shigaraki, and that OFA is a power for saving and not killing.

Also to sidestep this argument before people comment on my post with it.

What do you expect the heroes to just let a mass murderer live?

YES!

It happens in comics literally all the time.

Magneto, Wolverine, Jean Grey / Phoenix, Emma Scott, heck, OMNIMAN himself, all characters who have killed lots of people and all characters who get to live and even be on the heroes side. Of these three Jean Grey of all people has the highest body count.

Shonen Jump also has Vegeta. Have you ever heard of Vegeta? Most popular Shonen Rival of all time? Omni-man and Viltrumites are basically just Saiyans.

In real life they wouldn't let a mass murderer walk away but comics are not the same as real life. That's why characters are always punching dinosaurs all the time. Fun fact, if you were to try to punch a dinosaur in real life it would probably hurt your hand. I would advise against it. Dinosaurs are for the most part much stronger than human beings.

As I outlined above Shigaraki and Angstrom are different characters than Trask. They might all be murderers, but the first two have sympathetic elements and are humanized, they are victims of oppression (Angstrom's been killed by viltrumites in a whole bunch of worlds) whereas Trask is an oppressor.

So for both of these stories we are not expecting to see Deku and Mark kill their final villains (for the series and for this season). Deku because he's spent the final third of the series trying to work out a way to save the villains, and Mark because he doesn't want to turn out to be a violent murderer like his father so he's trying to be the most selfless, most perfect hero ever.

I THOUGHT YOU WERE STRONGER

So we finally reach the scenes in question and I thought I'd compare them without much commentary, just highlighting what happens without adding much spin.

So the final episode of Invincible Season 2 and Issue #33 of the comic is where Angstrom and Mark have it out. Angstrom appears in Mark's home and threatens his family. he brings up the comparison between Mark and his father right away. This is also something Angstrom has seen first hand by traveling to multiple universes where Mark has sided with his father.

In the cartoon he's a lot more confused because he's constantly remembering other universe's memories as if he were his own so he genuinely thinks he's taking down an evil viltrumite, in the comic he's being more petty and blaming Mark for his deformity (I think he doesn't remember that he was the one to take the helmet off by choice). In both versions he uses Mark's family as hostages to keep him from fighting back as he tries to send Markk to his death in several different realities.

Angstrom then ups the threat of violence from holding them hostage to threatening to kill them. In both the show and comic he brutally breaks Debbie's arm. Mark is sent through several more realities, only to discover that Debbie's arm is broken and lose his temper.

Mark and Angstrom's fist fight comes to an end, and while Mark has him on the ground he keeps hitting and hitting and hitting long after Angstrom stopped fighting back. Which is what prompts the famous "I thought you were stronger..."

Now, in this situation it looks pretty justifiable that Mark attacked Angstrom so aggressively,. it was self defense for one against a man trying to kill him and he only got truly aggressive after he saw his mother's arm get broken. Not only that he didn't intentionally kill Angstrom, you can argue he went too far in a case of clear self defense. Other people even tell Mark that this one isn't on him, including Cecil who compares Mark to his father the most.

Then, why is Mark so disturbed?

It's because this....

Is a deliberate parallel to this...

It's not just that Mark killed a man, it's that he killed a man by pounding on him relentlessly long after he'd stopped fighting back the exact same way his father did to him during their fight.

There's a difference between Mark say, fighting against a viltrumite and making a deliberate decision to kill them because of the danger that viltrumites represent to other people considering they are planet conquerors, and Mark killing this man because he lost his temper and couldn't control his own strength.

Mark spends the entire season trying to not be like his father, only to see first hand that he's capable of the exact same violence that his father is. The last episode of Season 2 summarizes this moment pretty perfectly in a montage of season 1 moments while Mark screams and breaks the sound barrier trying to push his viltrumite powers to their limits.

Mark: I'm strong enough and I can do this. It's all I've ever wanted for as long as I can remember. I want to do what you do. I want to be just like you. Omni-Man: You will be, son. You will. Mark screaming. Omni-Man: You'll outlast every single fragile being on this planet. You'll live to see this world crumble to dust and blow away. Everyone and everything you know will be gone. Mark screaming. Cecil: You know who else said that to me? Mark: I'm not my dad. Mark screaming some more. KRegg: Your father will be execute and you can return to earth. You will assume the mission to prepare earth for our rule.

So not only is Mark hit with the realization that he's just as capable of being violent and angry as his father is. He also is being forced by the situation to become more violent out of pragmatism, because if he doesn't get strong enough to fight viltrumites then they're going to come to his planet and take everything.

Not only has Mark lost some of his innocence, he's also being forced to throw the rest of it away. It's why Mark drops out of college at the end of the season because any pretense of balancing between his human life and his duty as a hero is gone. He is basically forced to be a viltrumite full time now and will abandon any semblance of trying to live his own life for a very, very long time until his relationship with Eve starts to get serious.

Which is why a pretty justifiable murder in this context is presented as so bloody, gruesome and traumatizing an event for both the audience and Mark himself. We both know there's no coming back from this.

As for the death of main series villain Shigaraki Tomura, Deku ends up being forced to kill Shigaraki in a situation similiar to Mark. Though I will highlight one difference right away. Mark was trying to reason with Angstrom, but he was at no point like "I want to save Angstrom, he's a victim I want to find some other way of ending this bloody conflict between us." Mark just didn't intend to go so far as killing him.

Deku entered the fight with the explicit stated desire to save Shigaraki rather than killing him, which would make him different from the previous generation of heroes because he wouldn't turn a blind eye to society's faults and victims like Shigaraki accused him of.

Deku makes a journey into Shigaraki's mental landscape to find Tenko in a recreation of the memory of the day of his worst trauma. As Tenko's quirk activates, Deku attempts to grab the little boy's hands to comfort him.

Deku's "Why I am here" is markedly different from All Might's. Deku says the reason he wants to save others is to take their hands, comfort them and give them peace, whereas All Might as the strongest hero tried to keep peace by beating all the villains down. Deku's way to become the greatest hero once again, focuses heavily on saving others, and offering his hand to everyone without hesitation instead of picking and choosing who to save like previous generations.

Deku even says that he has to extend a helping hand to everyone because he's learning that the world is more complicated than he thought, he was ignorant to a lot of people's suffering, and he can't sweep their pain under the rug anymore.

For a moment Deku unconditionally extending a hand to Shimura Tenko even as his mental body begins to decay away wins over Shimura Tenko. Though Shigaraki also resists because much like Twice he doesn't want to abandon the rest of his friends even if it means he personally will be saved.

However, any attempts to save Shigaraki are interrupted by AFO suddenly appearing out of nowhere and taking control of Shigaraki's body yet again.

At this point Deku does exactly what Mark does, which is relentlessly punch Shigaraki's body to death in order to kill AFO along with Shigaraki. In some small defese Shigaraki was also there too punching AFO in his mental landscape so he was assisting Deku in defeating AFO he wasn't helpless the entire time.

But, basically we see the same scene happen with Mark.

A hero who does not wish to kill is forced by circumstance to kill a villain. In Deku's case it should be even more devastating because they explicitly went into the fight wanting to save Shigaraki and they believed their power was for saving and not killing.

Yet, we don't get nearly as horrified a response from Deku.

However, instead Deku's final words are just about how he couldn't forgive Shigaraki and had to put a stop to him no matter what.

Even the way the scenes are presented to us are entirely different. Mark punches Angstrom in a wasteland a dry, dead place, until he's soaked in Angstrom's blood, and painted everything around him red. Once again, it's a visual callback to Mark's father beating him half to death, which was Mark's own lowest point.

Whereas, when Deku punches Shigaraki until he disintegrates not only is the violence or horror of Shigaraki's death not acknowledged, but it's played as a triumphant moment where the clouds clear from the sky and the stun starts shining.

In the cartoon Mark killing Angstrom leads to a total screaming breakdown where he has traumatic flashbacks of his dad beating him and pushes himself to break the sound barrier multiple times. It also leads him to making big life changes like dropping out of college to become a hero full time and giving up any pretense of having a normal life. As seen in a scene where he watches Amber from the sky, and is tempted to go down and greet her and just flies off, because Amber represents his connection to his humanity.

Also, Angstrom doesn't even die. He comes back way worse and that's how invinicble war arc starts.

In the aftermath of killing Shigaraki, Deku gets melancholy about not being able to save Shigaraki only to be reassured he did save him in the end. Only to be told by All Might that it's okay because he still saved Shigaraki's heart even if he killed him.

DEKU: "I couldn't save Tenko's life." "I reached out to his heart, and even though his hatred was crushed," "to the very end, Tenko" "was the leader of the League of Villains." ALL MIGHT: "Let me tell you this as someone who has had a near-death experience," "I think it's in the expression on his face at the end." "If there wasn't a crying boy there," "I think his heart was saved after all,"

People also try to convince mark that he did nothing wrong and that there was no helping what he did in a situation like that, but he doesn't let himself believe them.

The ending lines about the last episode of Season 2, are this:

Eve: I'm sorry Mark. It's not fair. You don't deserve this. Eve: You don't deserve this.

Which has a double meaning. Eve is just trying to comfort Mark, because arguably he shouldn't have to feel guilty for fighting in self defense. On the other hand what Mark hears is You don't deserve this in the context of Eve's feelings for him. An alternate timeline version of Eve confessed her love for Mark. Mark was about to bring it up but decided not to. At that moment as Eve embraces and comforts him, what Mark hears because of his own self loathing is that he doesn't deserve Eve comforting him, or her love for him.

Just to clarify I don't think that Mark is crying over Angstrom Levy specifically. In fact over time he's painted to be pathetic in his obsession with revenge, and what he amounts to is just wanting to blame everything on invincible when it was partially caused by his own actions.

However, it's inarguable that killing (or rather seemingly killing Angstrom) deeply impacted Mark and how he saw himself as a hero. It's less about Angstrom, and more about the loss of control, and the realization of how powerful his anger and hatred can get and what that means for him personally.

It also shows us where Mark's priorities lie. Mark wants to be a perfect hero and a perfect family man, and Invincible shows us he can't be both, his desire to protect his family leads him to staining his blood when he was trying so hard to be a good, selfless hero. This is all a part of a deliberate arc where Mark chooses more and more to value his family over being a hero. I'm not going to say whether or not it's the right choice, but it's a choice he makes, as a part of his character development where as he grows up and becomes a father his priorities change.

My point is that this moment has an impactful change on Mark, for arguably the rest of the comic.

Now my question is, with My Hero Academia will the death of Shigaraki Tomura, the series greatest villain and it's greatest victim have an equal impact on Deku's character that Levy's death did on Mark's?

#bnha 424 #bnha spoilers #invincible #mark grayson #deku #izuku midoriya #mha 424 #mha spoilers #omni man #bnha meta #mha meta

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seeingivy · 3 days

Text

espresso

actor!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: love is embarassing by olivia rodrigo (based on this npr tiny desk) and espresso by sabrina carpenter (based on this performance)

[eren]: like how irritated are you on a scale of one to ten?

[mikasa]: ONE THOUSAND

[eren]: i wasn’t asking you…

[stacy, publicist]: ET team is asking for a comment on bad blood. let me know if there’s anything you want to say

[megumi]: yuuji called me cute? but then he took it back, but it kind of seemed like he was too shy to be saying it in the first place? idk….

[megumi]: honest to god, do you think he thinks i'm cute?

[leah]: call the parents when you get a chance! same old same old :/

you silence the ringer on your phone, before turning to your right, where your producer, will, musters the peachiest smile he can produce. and you can tell from the nervousness in his demeanor that he’s a little too cowardly to ask the question on his mind, unlike eren.

you can appreciate that about him. that there’s some type of scarcity he holds in every interaction he has with you – like he’s intentionally picking out everything he says to you, in an effort to be careful.

“you know how these types of things go. do you think i’ll get the first spot?” you ask.

will doesn’t respond immediately - which gives you your answer – as you slump against his plush green couch, while his daughter ellie tasks herself with tangling in between your legs.

ellie is will’s two year toddler with beautiful long eyelashes and a tiny button nose. you had met her when she was barely six months old and an expressive little bundle of blankets, when you first signed on as one of his new artists at dancing lady.

you were still debating it at the time, deciding to go the singer-songwriter route and picking dancing lady over real sun. and while you were heavily leading towards the former over the latter, due to the lack of former victoria’s secrets models wandering around, it was will’s normalness that sold you entirely.

do you mind if my daughter is here sometimes? i just got divorced and well…sometimes it’s kind of hard to find childcare…or afford it.

it reminded you of your own parents, dragging you and leah to the side room of the clinic or leaving you in the spare classrooms on weekdays when you were a kid. and though those days are long gone, the feeling still remains.

sometimes it still feels like you’re chasing that – trying to hold everything you’ve acquired desperately close to you, just because you know it can slip out of your fingers the second you look away. more specifically, what it feels like to feels like to have nothing.

you were more than happy to oblige will’s request – and well, ellie was adorable.

it was an added bonus that there was a familiarity that will exuded – and it was wholly comforting in the littered sea of plastic that you always seemed to be floating in.

“three exclusive versions will boost their sales considerably.” will states, his tone miserable.

you sigh, before reaching for your phone and scrolling the notifications away. and while it’s in entirely bad taste – scrolling through twitter was one of the worst vices you had. reading the think pieces, the timelines of all of your bad blood (you thought the timeline was a little bit on the nose), and worst of all – the hate comments that seemed to litter your feed.

“you could always do the same thing.” he offers.

“absolutely not. i’m a no remix, no features, and no multiple versions artist. it feels a little tasteless doing something like that just for a number one spot. i don’t want my fans to drop fifteen dollars just to hear exclusive versions of my songs when they’ve already paid for the original.” you state.

“and you don’t want thing one and thing two to know that you’ve gotten under their skin.” will adds.

as much as you cared about getting the number one spot – because deep down, you really did – letting kim know that she had settled under your skin and caused an irritation, for a second time now, was far worse than occupying a lower spot.

deep down, it was really about getting your flowers. that’s what it all meant to you – the awards, the charts, and the fans – nitpicking each parts of your songs, getting to watch your life on display and then get to revel in your thoughts about it.

it was the one place that you got to control the narrative. because while no one is there at the after parties or the award shows, or even in the room with you or on the date, what you get to put out there is the closest to that.

and the second it’s out there, it stops being yours. and starts being everyone elses. it’s freeing that way – packing it into a neat box and dropping it on people’s doorsteps.

you give up. there were always more songs.

“yeah. that too.” you respond.

will gives you a nod, before swinging back in his chair to mix the backing tracks on his laptop, as you turn your attention to ellie and place your hands in her dark brown hair. the braid that you did earlier is entirely messed up now, no thanks to the fact that she spent the last hour of recording running around to her heart’s desire.

you give her a smile, tapping on the tops of your thighs and gesturing for her to jump up, as you comb through the tangled knots with your fingers, before fixing her soft hair back into the little flower hair tie you had placed in her hair earlier.

“i’d love to take a flamethrower to the next awards show. melt some plastic while i’m ahead.” will mumbles, which earns him a hearty laugh from you.

“and i’d help you free willy.”

you press a kiss to ellie’s hairline before tapping the top of her head to signal you were done. and she gives you a giggly smile back before she returns to her usual shenanigans, by climbing under the glass table and sticking her feet up on the metal.

“you’re so gross. don’t call me that.” will groans.

you give him a smile instead.

“how was studio eleven anyways?” he asks.

“good. i got to see megumi after a really long time and historia was great. oh, and this god awful idiot tried to hit on me.”

you’d be lying if you said you had stopped thinking about ryomen sukuna after you met him two days ago. that there was something intriguing about him, that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on – that led to you thinking about him far too much.

all in all, there was one thing that you prided yourself on and it was being resourceful. being knowledgeable, taking the time to learn more, and keeping yourself informed. it was what kickstarted your career, being able to watch people and learn the sleight of hands, and more importantly, apply them.

it’s how you got picked out of the group by fame as old as time – the lynch family. because it was one thing to be a pretty face, to have talent, but being able to sniff out the star and pick the needle out of the haystack – it wasn’t something that could be taught. and it’s something that you learned, at age eleven, fast.

the entire income of your household depended on it. and that tends to foster some type of ambition.

and while you’re no longer associated with the lynch family, having now run as far from them as you can, the ability holds. and in moments like this, it even turned out to be useful – being so resourceful.

megumi, very lovingly so, called it stalking. and well, sometimes that’s exactly what it was. and in the two days you had to spare, you had learned almost anything and everything you could have about ryomen sukuna.

he owns a coffee shop in los angeles, called play coffee, that he’s been working at since he was sixteen. and he offered to become the main investor after they almost went down under. he also loves to joke about how they almost fired him for how shit he was at making matcha lattes.

he’s had a long and complicated history but there’s some pull that he has that keeps him around. because dating your manager, getting caught with weed at fifteen, and an anticipatory slander campaign – it would be enough to ruin someone else. or at the very least, kick them down.

but not him.

his fans speculate that he has twelve tattoos, his most popular being of the tarot card, the hanging man (which you then subsequently googled). upright, meaning sacrifice, release, and martyrdom. and reversed meaning stalling, needless sacrifice, and fear of sacrifice.

his most recent release – as patrick zweig in challengers, which you rushed to watch with embarrassing speed (and consequently, got fan edits for that you can’t help but watch – is suspected to get him shortlisted for a selling star award, which is just one stop away from him winning an institute award next.

all and all, he was on the come up. with the hit movie and now the expected hit show, one thing was clear to you.

that sukuna was the one to look out for. mainly because there was something electric about watching him on the screen. because the way he moves, speaks, and walks on the screen – there’s something so mesmerizing about it that you can’t help but tear yourself away.

“did you entertain it?” will asks.

“no. he started off by blatantly lying.”

will scoffs.

“was he cute at least?”

you roll your eyes.

that was the understatement of the century.

“shut up, will.”

and the acidic tone in your voice is enough to pique will’s attention, as he now swirls around in the chair, and gives you the most irritating and accusatory smile he can muster.

“i said shut up.” you repeat.

“i literally didn’t say a single word.”

“but you thought it. i can tell.” you bite back.

“you’re a child.” will responds.

sukuna wastes no time in arriving to the performance at the npr offices. and it works out considerably well – with your giggling fans questioning his presence and asking for pictures, accompanied by a blind item that he sent in to one of the biggest twitter accounts himself.

[sukuna]: so what did megumi say?

[yuuji]: IDK HE LIKE KIND OF LOOKED AWAY WHEN I CALLED HIM CUTE BEFORE I STARTED BACKTRACKING

[sukuna]: …

[sukuna]: about y/n dipshit

[yuuji]: WORD WORD

[yuuji]: she is single. not talking to anyone yet. he kind of made it seem like she’s not that upset about her breakup tho? if that makes sense

[yuuji]: apparently, she almost never is? not in a heartless type of way though, just in a…i’m not gonna let a man get me down type of way

[yuuji]: that sounded more corny when i typed it that way…

[yuuji]: he said she just knows her worth. that’s all.

sukuna hopes he’s worth a shot.

it’s an entire somersault in his stomach when he sees you walk out, a lilac purple guitar in your hands that you set down, before giving an excited smile to the fans cheering for you at his side, blowing spare kisses to the people in the front.

it’s hard not to stare full on. though he supposes for his purposes, that’s the exact type of thing he should be doing. and the plethora of information that he learned in the free time he had in the past two days swims in his head.

you like silver jewelry and not gold. the ring on your middle finger is one that a fan gifted you in lisbon and you got your cartilage pierced at a tattoo parlor after taking one of your last finals in college.

you took a few classes here and there at new york university – poetry, screenwriting, and women in politics. you were born and raised in new york, having started your singing career at the ripe age of sixteen before you were scouted at twenty.

“hi guys! i’m y/n – i’m so flattered that npr invited me here to sing a few songs for you. it’s so cool to be here with all of you guys and kind of show you some of the new stuff i’ve been working on and play some old ones while i’m ahead. but yeah –”

sukuna watches as you pause, making eye contact with him for the first time before you pick up the guitar and swing the strap over your shoulder.

sukuna pretends that it doesn’t make his heart swell up in hope, that his presence was enough to warrant a pause from you.

“well, right. this first song is a new one that i’ve been working on for quite some time. it’s one of my recent favorites, i wrote it around a month ago after i went to this stupid afterparty from one of the events that my studio was holding and it’s about some of the company i’ve kept. it’s called love is embarrassing.” you state.

I told my friends you were the one After I'd known you, like, a month And then, you kissed some girl from high school And I stayed in bed for, like, a week When you said space was what you need Waited by my phone like a goddamn fool

sukuna quickly realizes that there’s something about singing that does it for you. because your entire demeanor changes. you relax your shoulders from the tense position they’re usually in, swing your hips to the beat of the song, and make very expressive facial expressions that in his two days of research he hasn’t seen otherwise.

And now, it don't mean a thing God, love's fuckin' embarrassing Just watch as I crucify myself For some weird second string Loser who's not worth mentioning My God, love's embarrassing as hell

and in the twenty minutes that follow your half and hour performance, he’s able to convince the body guards that he knows you – after providing an autograph, of course – and then knocks on the door of your dressing room before walking straight in.

sukuna can tell that it startles you at first, as he walks in to find your wide eyes, before you visibly relax at the sight of him. and he delights in the smile that spreads across your face as you lean back in the chair as he takes his rightful spot behind you, placing his hands on the sidebars of your chair and leaning forward.

“princess bubblegum. you again. to what do i owe the pleasure?” you ask.

“figured i’d stop by, marceline. i’m a huge fan.”

you smile back at sukuna through the mirror, biting down on the side of your cheek, as you reach for your lipgloss and toy with the cap in your shaky fingers.

“you weren’t even singing along.” you state.

“two of those songs were new. and i’m learning.” sukuna clarifies.

you grin.

“you’re doing your homework.”

“i’m somewhat of an overachiever.”

you push out of your chair, turning around to rest against the back of the vanity as you reach for one of the purple candies on your desk and pop it into the side of your cheek.

“i’m guessing you didn’t harass my team, my social media managers, and two of my friends for tickets for nothing. you want something.” you state.

“perceptive. are you always like this, dove?” sukuna asks.

“does that bother you? it’s something you’ll have to get used to.” you ask.

“quite the contrary. i enjoy a challenge.”

you hum, twisting the plastic in your fingers.

“really. what do you want?”

sukuna nods, before crossing the way and leaning against the edge of your vanity at your side.

“i think that you and i could be really useful to each other. i know that your song is about to get blocked by kim and her bullshit and well…”

“your show is about to get tanked by whatever it is she has coming next.” you finish.

sukuna grins.

“you know about my show? have you been stalking me?”

you feel your cheeks burn.

“because of megumi, sweetheart. nothing more nothing less.”

sukuna feels his chest pang slightly, from the embarrassment. because of course you know about the show from megumi.

“right, well. seriously. kim and aimee aren’t the biggest fans of you. and well, it would really piss them off if you started dating me, even if it was just for looks. what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

you sigh, pushing off the edge of your chair, as you stand close to him. and you’re able to smell it again, the minty musk, as you give him a smile.

“i appreciate the offer. but, i’m not interested in getting tangled up with them again.”

“they started it already. you don’t want to bite back?” sukuna goads.

“i’m not the type.” you respond.

sukuna pauses.

“from what i’ve seen, i don’t necessarily think that's true.”

“have you got me all figured out, sukuna?” you ask.

he loves the way his mouth rolls off your tongue and the accusatory tone in your voice when you say it. you’re trying to get him to take the bait, like the two of you are playing a game.

and he leans closer, smiling down at you as he wraps he cups your cheek with his left hand, before pinching at your cheek.

“i’m almost positive that i do.” he responds.

and he’s quick with it, reaching forward and tucking the stray strands of your hair behind your ear, before basically teleporting to the door.

“either way, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” he states, before slamming the door shut behind him.

“okay, so like why haven’t you just…asked him out yet?” you ask.

you watch as megumi spits the majority of the shot he just downed back into the glass, before slamming it down and leaning forward on the table.

“are you insane?”

“i think you might be. i mean, he’s literally flirting with you in these texts.” you respond.

you scroll through the chat again – noting the cute 0.5 picture of yuuji as the profile picture – earning you a glare from megumi before he snatches the phone back. you give him a pointed look, before shrugging and lifting your own glass to your lips.

“i just…get really nervous.” he stutters.

“well, i can give you a few pointers. first things first, when he tries to kiss you, don’t dodge him. and when you do actually muster up the courage, don’t bite him by accident.”

meugmi shoots you a glare and you can’t help but smirk at him.

there’s nothing as special as a first boyfriend. the novelty of it all – holding hands in between classes, texting the night before to plan a hug at dismissal, and in your case, having things tumble down when he starts sobbing after you kiss for the first time.

“hey. are…are you crying?”

you were positive that you did it right. the seven videos that you had watched the night prior and the excessive consulting from leah was exactly what you put into practice. closing your eyes, leaning forward, and pressing your lips against his. but you’re not sure what exactly happened, because two seconds later there was bright red blood coming out of your lips and an incessant amount of apologies coming out of megumi’s mouth.

but after you had reassured him that it was perfectly fine and that it was an accident, there was something still lingering in the air. because in the few seconds that followed when you tried to initiate it again, megumi dodged it all together and nearly flopped on to the pavement as he put his head in his hands.

there was something awkward about the entire thing. that weird pit in your stomach, the way your skin seemed to course in embarrassment at the fact that he didn’t really seem to enjoy it, and the metallic taste still lingering on your slightly swollen lip.

“are you okay, megumi?” you ask.

“yeah. yeah, i’m sorry. we can do it again.”

you frown.

“we don’t have to.”

“do you want to?” he asks.

you take him in fully – eyes wide and skin pale – as you reach forward, placing one of his hands on your shoulder.

“well, not if you’re going to look at me all weird after. you’re kind of freaking me out, megs.”

he sighs, before nervously rubbing his fingertips against his palms, as he gives you a shaky nod. it’s only then that you note that the scabs on his knuckles have barely peeled, an indication that he’s been picking at them. and really, an insinuation that something is bothering him.

“i won’t stop being your friend if we don’t date anymore.” you clarify.

megumi gives you a halfhearted smile.

“well, that’s just because you don’t have other friends.” he mumbles.

you snort, before shoving him in the side.

“asshole.”

“bitch.”

and you’re not sure what it is, maybe the fact that the joke has broken the ice a little bit, but he leans forward, his hands shaking as he peers his steely blue eyes into yours.

“y/n. can i please tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“okay.”

he pauses.

“i don’t like you.”

you pinch your llps in a line.

“charming.”

he shakes his head, almost like he’s frustrated.

“i mean. i don’t think i could like you.”

“wow. keep it coming, fushiguro.”

he glares in response.

“you know, you could try letting me finish.” megumi deadpans.

“the opportunity was just too good. but really, do finish.”

megumi bites at the sides of his lips, before taking a deep breath.

“you’re like my best friend. i think you’re really funny, really cool, and sometimes you’re the only person i want to be around, even if we’re kind of just sitting around quietly. and you’re pretty so i figured that…that if i tried to date you, it would work.”

“huh?”

“like, you’re the best girl to do it. there’s no one like you. but…but if i kiss you and i feel nothing…maybe that means it’s not about personality or liking people….and more about the fact that…that you’re a girl and not a boy…and i guess i can’t get over that.”

you pause.

“why would i need to be a boy?” you whisper.

and in the five seconds it takes to mutter those eight words, you clock the reason all together.

it’s because megumi is gay.

“i was like fourteen.” megumi deadpans.

“and that’s no reason to forget the lessons you learned. no biting, no dodging, just –”

megumi shakes his hand in the air, his face curled up in disgust, as he pushes another one of the shots towards you.

“this is disgusting. let’s talk about something else.”

while megumi pretends to be a larger than life hater of your resourcefulness, he’s truly the only person who can match your energy sometimes. which in this case, includes pressing your ear against one of the private rooms in the club, trying to catch the end of the conversation.

“i can barely hear shit. the music is way too loud.”

“yeah. this is making it sound all muffled.” megumi responds.

you look to your left to find him crouched on the floor, the diaphragm of a stethoscope pressed against the wall as he leans forward to listen.

“are you fucking insane? where did you even get that?”

“lost and found.”

“who the fuck brings a stethoscope to the club?”

“it’s the first week of october, dumbass. some girl probably dressed up as a sexy nurse and left it on the floor.”

“give me that.” you hiss.

“fuck no, get your own.”

“they’re my ex-friends. and currently trying to stop me from charting. hand it over.”

megumi gives you a glare, as you place the pieces in your ear, and the two of you lean forward against the wall again. and while it does little to help except piercing your ears. though all you hear is the shuffling of chairs, as you give megumi a wide-eyed look, to stand up and yank the earpieces out.

and really, it is horrible timing because as the two of you stand up – with you linking your arms in with megumi’s to hide the stethoscope behind his back – as you shoot aimee and kim a peachy smile. and it’s a sickly sweet smile that aimee and kim give you, accompanied with a look up and down the length of your figure.

“hi peach.” aimee states.

you can feel your skin burn at the same old shitty nickname.

“we were just talking about you.” kim starts.

“likely thing for the two of you to be doing.” megumi mutters.

kim shoots megumi an irritated glare, before reaching forward, and placing one of her hands on your shoulder.

“i had a question for you. are you dating kuna?” kim asks.

you pinch your nose in disgust.

“what's it to you?”

kim smiles.

“we dated for a long time. just wanted to make sure he’s in good hands.” she clarifies.

“it was barely three months.” you state.

like always, kim sours quickly.

“and it’ll be even shorter when it comes to you.” kim states.

you roll your eyes. but before you can respond, she leans forward, pressing her fingers against your ear to fix your hair, before batting her eyelashes at you.

“i don’t want you to get hurt again. and well, you better quit while you’re ahead, peach. guys like that won’t stick around for girls like you. you can’t exactly give him what he wants.”

on the almost quiet drive home, with weary looks from megumi, you make seven calls, canceling your plans for tomorrow and making your plan while you’re ahead.

“you’re so skilled with balls.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, only to turn to his left and find what might be his most agitating (and his secret personal favorite) co-star, satoru gojo.

“you should invest in a tape recorder. listen to the tape back at the end of the day and do some reflection.” sukuna states, before lifting the ball into the air and watching it swish into the net.

in their last few days of press, the marketing team for the show decided that the group of them were going to be participating in a charity all-stars basketball game. it was one of the most anticipated events of the year, with celebrities being on both teams, and special surprise performances for the halftime show.

the combined sales of the tickets, signed jerseys, and meet and greets raised tens of thousands of dollars, and all in all, it was one of the better events that sukuna found himself being forced to attend. that and the fact that athletics were something that sukuna was skilled at – something reinforced by the fact that his team was almost ten up at the halftime mark.

sukuna takes his seat on the courtside bench, satoru handing him a gatorade as the two of them lean forward on their knees. it’s kind of intentional – the two of them sitting together, posing the way they were – only because it made for really good press.

he catches sight of kim and aimee on the other side of the court, posing for the camera by pressing a kiss to each other’s cheeks, before leaning back in their chair, entirely bored.

“ladies and gentleman, please welcome our special half-time show guest, y/n l/n.”

sukuna nearly jolts up in his chair as the lights flash in the center of the court – to the sight of you wearing a light pink crew neck and a white tennis skirt – with a light pink ribbon tangled into your hair.

“was she always on the setlist?”

“don’t think so.” satoru mumbles back.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

sukuna supposes that it should be a bad sign that this is the second time in a few days that he finds himself being mesmerized by your presence. and that this time, satoru’s noticed.

“dude. you’re like drooling.” he whispers.

“shut the fuck up.”

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya

sukuna watches as you shoot him a wink, before throwing the sparkly microphone in your hand to one of your backup dancers, and turning around.

and really, it’s one of the most overwhelming feelings he’s had – that wholehearted and blissful exhilaration that pounds in his chest – as he watches you pull your crewneck over your head, only to be wearing his jersey underneath. (that and the fact that the resounding cheers that erupt after the fact are music to his fucking ears).

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen

he can feel his heart drop in his chest as you spare a wink, before returning to your choreography.

“so that’s why you’re fucking drooling.” satoru states, giving him a hearty smile as he wraps one of his arms around his shoulder.

sukuna can’t even muster an irritated look to give back to satoru.

“who fucking wouldn’t?” sukuna mutters.

“that’s real cute, dude. the espresso thing.”

“what espresso thing?” sukuna asks.

“you know. because you own the coffee shop and shit? isn’t that what she means?” satoru asks.

of course that’s what you meant. and it’s in that split second that every hunch that sukuna has – that you’re every bit of what he expected, that you were just like him, that you were the exact type he knew you were – as he stands up, crossing his hands over his chest as he gives you a smile.

and he can feel his heart pounding as you pull the ear pieces out to hang around your shoulders before walking over to him, your hands behind your back as you give him a sweet smile. only to turn immediately to his left and look at satoru.

“hi.”

he watches as satoru spits the gatorade back into the bottle, before standing up and running his hands through his hair. it slightly irritates him, the slight change in satoru’s demeanor.

“hi?”

you extend your hand out.

“i’m y/n.”

and sukuna’s irritation gets even worse as satoru lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss against your hand.

“satoru.” he responds.

you give him a smile.

“that’s cute.”

you try not to relish in the way that sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek, trying his best to hide his frustration, as you look up at satoru.

“to be honest, i kind of came here with an ulterior motive.”

“my favorite kind of motive.” satoru responds.

you walk over to satoru’s side, linking your hand in with his, as you point to the other side of the court.

“you see that empty black seat right there?”

“next to aimee lynch?”

“that’s my seat.”

satoru looks down at you, as he leans forward.

“we can’t have you sitting there.” he whispers.

“only if you insist.” you respond.

satoru puts his bottle down and you watch as he retreats to the other side to retrieve the chair, as you turn over to sukuna.

“hi lavagirl.” you state.

sukuna grins in response.

“her hair is a little more neon than mine, but it’s always a pleasure, sharkboy.” sukuna responds.

you give him a smile, noting the flashing cameras at your side, as you bring your hands forward, holding the sharpie up in between the two of you.

“what’s this?” sukuna asks.

“i got one of the last jersey’s. it wasn’t signed.” you ask.

sukuna feigns shock.

“you poor baby. we can’t have that, now can we?”

you shake your head as sukuna smiles, taking the pen from your fingers, before signaling for you to turn around with his pointer finger.

and it makes you shiver as he bends down, taking the time to move the hair to the side of your shoulder before scribbling on your back. and that burning warmth that pools in your stomach gets even worse as his breath tickles your neck, before he leans over and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck.

“one thing.” he whispers.

you swallow hard, the whisper in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“what’s that?”

you watch as satoru walks up, placing the chair right next to his, as you and sukuna shoot him a smile.

“try to rile me up and it’ll be more than that next time.”

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