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midnights-cosmic · 2 days

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Stay as Friends

Jeong Yunho x F!Reader

Moving on from Yunho is slow but it's sure.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Your colleague asked. You've been working non stop since you got back from your trip in Italy. It was fun and it finally brought you the peace that you've always wanted to experience.

It wasn't like you were going through a break up or what. You and Yunho weren't even official. There was no label, really. It's just complicated. You're just really grateful on what relationship you both had and cherished it. Yunho may have enjoyed that simple-no label relationship, well you did too, until you fell. Hard. You took it upon yourself to distance yourself from him. And though it hurts, you made through it.

Still, there was a bitter taste in your mouth when you saw how Yunho adjusted to that so well. There were many times that you passed by each other in the hallway where you would avoid his gaze but he would smile at you.

Or sometimes be in the same elevator, unexpectedly, in which he would greet you hello and ask you how your morning went. You would always answer with a simple 'good' then that's it. You would stand there like a pole, not moving or talking until one of you has to leave.

Who are we kidding, you've told him many times that it's not his fault, and will never be.

That was about 8 months ago. Your last day at KQ was the beginning of your getaway to Italy. Honestly, you don't know what Yunho has been up to these days. Last time you heard, Ateez has been busy for their overseas schedule and preparation for their next album.

Other than that, you don't really know what's going on in his life. There were few posts from Ateez's instagram that you'd scroll by but that's it. Nothing deeper than pictures they show on their social media account.

"I don't get what you two have." Mingi said referring to you and Yunho, while looking out the ocean. Yunho and Wooyoung were too busy trying to throw each other in the water, laughing and wrestling.

KQ's CEO decided to treat Ateez and the staff to a trip in Jeju. Every one has been working hard and because of the many success of their hard work, Jeju trip it is.

Ateez were rarely recognized here, which in times like this, is really important. They get to walk around the neighborhood and even go to food markets. Sometimes, people got curious if they are celebrities because of their stylish outfits, but none of the members really dare to mention of them being idols.

You can only guess that they also want to make the most out of this break. You're sure Ateez knows that by the time they go back to Seoul, it means back to work.

"We don't have anything." You replied after a long silence. Yunho was able to throw Wooyoung into the water but Wooyoung grabbed his shirt, dragging him along. You can hear their laughter all the way from where you and Mingi are; just a small cottage to keep you off the blazing heat and serve as a shed.

The other members are still in the house, resting from the insane long ferry ride.

"So... The holding hands, having lunch and dinner together, sleeping in your house, ordering take-outs for each other is 'nothing'?" Mingi snickered.

You shrugged your shoulders. You don't even know what you and Yunho have. None of you has ever confessed, and none of you tried to initiate the conversation on what your relationship really is.

"I really hope this all works out for you." Mingi suddenly said. He stood up and picked up his phone.

Right... The only reason why he's not sleeping now is because he wanted to catch the sunset and take pictures. The sky is slowly fading from dark blue to an orange hue with tints of pinks and purples.

"I know you like him Y/N. I can't tell if Yunho feels the same way, but I'm sure he'll understand better if you say something." You watched Mingi took his strides, his figure getting smaller and smaller from your sight.

And just like that, your eyes flickered back to where Wooyoung and Yunho was supposed to be. You were slightly taken back seeing Yunho already looking at you. You smiled and gave him a small wave.

He waved back at you, but before he could say something, Wooyoung appeared behind him and dragged him back into the ocean. The corners of your mouth turned up at the two goof balls in the water.

Wooyoung's loud yapping and Yunho's protests was all you can hear, completely shutting out the voices of people passing by and the harsh gusts of the wind.

"What's your instagram again?" Yunho furrowed his brows, trying to remember the username you mentioned a few hours ago.

"star_light.0823" You rolled your eyes.

"Star... light... dot. Zero-eight-twenty three." You watched him, sprawled in your couch like he owns it, typing away your username.

"Shocking. You're not private."

"No one would follow me anyway, except for my friends so..."

In just a few minutes, Yunho has reached your posts from way back in high school. You both laugh at some of your ridiculous heavy filtered selfies and landscape photos. Even the pictures that you've long forgotten were suddenly brought back to your memories.

"And this?" It was a photo of you holding a pepero and a bouquet of fresh flowers.

"Well, what can I say, I'm pretty and I'm popular in high school." You whipped your hair boastfully.

"Uh huh." Yunho teased. "How many peperos are these? Let me count."

"Yah!" It was clearly seen on the picture that there are only 2 boxes. The living room was filled with laughters and high school stories that whole afternoon. Both of you sharing different yet fun experiences from years ago.

"Yunho, thanks for being here with me."

"Hmm?"

"Whatever this is," You started, "I mean, I hope we could be as friends for as long as we can."

"I'll always be here for you when you need me, Y/N." He assured, and in that moment, you were satisfied. There was no label needed. Your loyalty for each other is enough to keep it.

"God, I hate it here." You mumbled under your breath. Big or small, it was dumb for you think that all agencies work the same. YG Entertainment being the bigger one, doubles the workload that you used to have in KQ. Not to mention the management were astronomically different.

If back then in KQ you can interact with artists just fine, here in YG, they are stricter. You're not allowed to talk too much with the artists unless they chat with you. Not that you're planning on getting close with the artists anyway. You already know how that turn out the last time you got close to one.

Your phone vibrated with a text message, prompting you to look. A groan escaped your lips as you were reminded of the piling folders of today's work.

I did put this phone over here so I can remember every thing I need to finish, You thought.

Expecting an urgent message from your boss, your eyes almost rolled at the back of your head when you saw that it was from your colleague and long-time friend, Jia.

Jia Jaebeom wants to say hi to you.

You This is the third time. Not interested.

Jia Boo. Single.

You poked your head from your cublicle and look for your friend. You were not surprised seeing her holding her phone, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You raised your brow back and all she did was stick her tongue out at you.

Jia Boo! Still stuck on that Ateez guy :P

You chuckled. Sometimes it really does cross your mind whether telling your friend about Yunho was a great idea.

You Nope, Italy changed me. Who's that Ateez guy again? Jia Sure sure. Jeong Yunho

You look up from your seat, watching how your friend giggle at her reply.

You What a real friend you are, bitc-- Jia Jeong Yunho :P

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but smile at your friend's childish behavior. Well, at least the mention of his name doesn't make you want to curl up in ball and cry like they used to. You're getting there, slowly but surely. Maybe one of these days, you'll have the guts to reach out to them again.

Even after every thing that happened, you miss their unpredictable funny moments and that familiar melody of Yunho's laugh. And maybe, just maybe, get to know each other again.

"So, you did confess?" Jia's eyes went round. "Holy shit!"

"Uhuhm." You hummed in agreement.

"And then what happened?" Jia scooted closer, nudging your shoulder at the same time.

Your heart was pounding and your mind is clouded. You're not really sure if this is the right thing to do. Honestly, you blame the book that you read last night. Something along the lines of regretting the chances you didn't take and you wouldn't see it unless you try.

The concert ended about an hour ago and you asked Yunho to meet with you at the private parking lot before you part ways. You were blowing on your freezing hands when Yunho appeared.

You both said your hi's and hello's, and for some reason, Yunho's face is flushed and his eyes are beaming. "I also want to tell you something."

You gulped, you want him to go first. Before you could tell him, Yunho started excitedly on his speech.

"Remember that girl from weeks ago?" The idol trainee, yes. You uncrossed you arms and let him continue. "Well, she attended the concert tonight and..." Yunho is practically bouncing on his toes at this point. "...And she said, hear this, I was her favorite." He was glowing like the morning sun.

"Oh..." You bit your lip. "That's really good to hear."

"Right? I think I like her, too."

Late. That's all you could think of: You're late. You relaxed your breathing and forced a smile on your lips. "I, uh..."

Yunho's eyes narrowed at you. "Something wrong?"

You shook your head, "Nope."

"Well actually," You bit the insides of your cheek. "I like you."

Every thing then was a blur. Yunho spurting words of sorry's and apologizing. He was holding your hand when he did, but you assured him that it was okay. And that this is not his fault.

You were even able to throw a line of someone being better. There would be someone out there better. It was more of a comforting word to yourself, than a joke you told Yunho.

He laughed and agreed, "I'm sure you'll find him."

"Of course, I will. Duh. Remember those peperos in high school? Psh."

"Wow, I can't believe you're a martyr, Saint Y/N." Jia teased with humor.

"What can I say, this is me." You responded.

You were staring at the series of pictures you've recently posted on Instagram. Starting from the mess of your kitchen after you and Jia baked cookies, to the mini clips in between of Jia mixing and fooling around, and finally the baked cookies. You made sure to include the first batch which was half burnt.

jiaaaaaa_ dare i say, i'm the best baker

Jia's comment was at the top, with a couple of your friends that sarcastically said it's the best looking cookies they've seen in a while.

You were about to exit the app when another notification popped up.

yu_yu.0323 liked your post yu_yu.0323 commented on your post

You can hear your heart beating from your chest. Of course, he doesn't have any profile picture on nor any info on his profile at all. But that username is and will always be familiar to you.

Absentmindedly, you clicked on it.

yu_yu.0323 the most peaceful cookies i've ever seen tbh :))

Yunho was defintely referring to the failed cookies which was either burned to crisp or the cracked ones. You don't know whether to ignore or reply even with just a simple emoji. It doesn't seem wrong to acknowledge his comment anyway.

star_light.0823 @yu_yu.0323 they really were. just not sure about it having a 'peaceful' taste.

You closed the app after that. Maybe it's better this way. No need for complicated things, just two friends interacting on social media.

You really do wish you would've just met now, though. This version of you is your best version. That version of you was a scared little girl. You would've told that girl to not run away and face it; it's okay to face rejections.

Someday, maybe you and Yunho will cross paths again. And maybe by that time, things would turn out better than it did.

[Unedited. Not yet proofread]

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #jeong yunho #jeong yunho ateez #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho imagines

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sunflowerskies00 · 3 days

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bet my heart, part 7

bees are gonna make wild honey

series masterlist

"You're distracted," Jake informs me as the band stops. I knew it. He knew it. We all knew I was distracted. This sound check was going to shit, and we all knew it.

"Thank you for that captain obvious," I roll my eyes at him.

"We can take a break," Damien offers. I shake my head, we couldn't. We needed to get the sound check done, and I needed to know that my show tonight wasn't going to be an absolute shit show. I didn't have high hopes for either one of those things to be successful.

"Let's just run it one more time," I say.

"Sage," Jake says. I glance over towards him, and he has an all-knowing look on his face.

"Okay, five minutes," I agree. I put my mic down and I'm off the stage in a matter of seconds. I hear footsteps behind me and I assume it's Jake. He's in front of me before I realize it, and he comes to a stop so I can't keep going.

"What's going on with you? Is it Quinn?" He asks. I raise an eyebrow, he knew it was Quinn, he just wanted me to give him the confirmation of his assumptions. "Fine, I know it's Quinn, what's going on?" He asks.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. He raises an eyebrow at me this time, waiting for me to elaborate. "I don't know what's going on between us, we have a lot to talk about and I have to wait for him to get here in a couple of days," I explain.

"Oh, so you two are finally going to admit you're in love with each other?" He asks. Apparently, I must have some weird look on my face because his next words are, "Don't look at me like that, we all know you're in love with him, and he's in love with you, the only two people who don't realize it are you and Quinn, it's sad really." My mouth opens, but I don't say anything just stare at him. "Just take five, breathe, do what you need to do, but just know that everyone knows that man is in love with you it's sad," That's all he says before leaving and I'm assuming going back to the stage. I spend the next five minutes with my back pressed against a wall, eyes closed, and trying to get my shit together so I can make it through this sound check and concert.

My mind is still racing when I walk back onto the stage and pick up my microphone.

"You good?" Damien asks. I nod my head, even if I wasn't, I could fake it.

"Can we switch it up for sound check guys?" I ask them.

"What song?" Jake asks.

"Let's do an old one, one that I gave to someone else, Friends Don't," I suggest. I had written the song a couple of years ago, and it didn't fit the vibe I had going on in my music so it got sold to another artist, however, the song was about my not-so-friend-like relationship with Quinton.

Miraculously I make it through our soundcheck song, shocking for everyone. What's even more shocking is when I leave the stage, Quinn is standing there, staring at me. He wasn't supposed to get in until late tonight, so I'm confused as to why I'm looking at him right now.

"I thought you're plane landed at like midnight? I ask him. That's what leaves my mouth instead of hi.

"It was supposed to, but I was going insane so I rearranged my schedule, and here I am," He lifts a shoulder, it's a half-shrug. He was here, we could talk, I needed this conversation to happen. I take a step closer to him and then Lucy appears out of nowhere.

"Hair, makeup, clothes," she says. I glance at Quinn, I'm sure the desperation for this conversation is showing in my eyes.

"Go, do your job, I'll be here whenever you're done," he says, a small smile on his face. I force a nod and follow Lucy down the hall, tossing one last glance back at Quinn.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #vancover canucks #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #trevor zegras #cole caufield #quinn hughes x oc

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purgemarchlockdown · 12 hours

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Ah what the heck I'll post it through here

So in some discord servers, you've seen me specualte that Amane's uniform is inspired by the private Catholic Fukuoka Kaisei girl's school affiliated primary school (福岡海星女子学院附属小学校)

Now, because of the name, I assumed this was an all girls primary school And that the picture above was of 4 girls and the school simply allowed children to wear either skirts or shorts (its uncommon for Japanese elementary schools to have uniform to begin with so I could see a laxer dress code when it comes to stuff like this)

However After a bit more reading of their website Turns out that the Fukuoka Kaisei girl's school affiliated primary school Despite the name Has in fact been a co-ed/mixed gender primary school for the last 50-so years And while I can't find a dress code on their website It does seem like all the students in pictures on their site who wear shorts are boys

Anyway to cut a long story short: Amane's uniform actually resembles the boys one more than the girls (shorts instead of skirt + no ribbon + more central buttons)

And I know you like the trans girl Amane theory so I figured you'd enjoy this info

The only disclaimer I have to give is that the long haired child whose father tattles on Amane is in the same uniform (shorts and all)

So like if this is a girl then occam's razor is that girls at Amane's school just wear shorts (also it'd be strange for Amane's cult to follow gender rolls Except for hair?? idk maybe im overthinking)

TRANS AMANE BELIEVERS WE MIGHT STAY WINNING!!!! It would be weird if they did follow the entire dress code Except for the hair. Additionally those buttons are tripping me up since their Buttoned like the girls so this actually comes somewhere more in the middle of the Both of them...if it does turn out my insane "Amane perceives gender in the same way a cat does, it's just there" catthing Amane idea is real I'm going to explode.

Regarding the girl though...I can't believe I can unveil my insane Queer Infighting Amane idea- okay so in cults it's generally heavily encouraged to outright spy and tattle on people who misbehave:

(BITE)

Information Control: Encourage spying on other members a. Impose a buddy system to monitor and control member b. Report deviant thoughts, feelings and actions to leadership c. Ensure that individual behavior is monitored by group

I think, and this is pure speculation there's is very little supporting this I just like the idea. It be fun if they were BOTH trans.

My reasoning behind this is, first of all Amane doesn't seem to have many friends. Her T2 distorted voiceline has her say:

Father is a very praiseworthy person. Once his virtue increases, he'll come back home, right? It's a little lonely, but I'm fine!

Which, okay it's fair that her homelife is lonely, this doesn't necessarily inform her school life. But if we go to the Prison she's rather isolated overall.

Even in T1. Yuno and Mahiru are people she considers "close" but that's after mulling it over a bit due to being asked.

T1Q10: Is there any prisoner you're close with? A: If I were to say, I guess it would be Yuno and Mahiru.

It's not for a lack of Trying, she tries very hard actually. It's just that people tend to note the way she acts is weird and that gets exasperated in T2 where it's said she's pretty isolated.

But also, I was discussing with a mutual about her relation with this peer and they said that it's possible that this question:

T2Q11: Did you love the person you killed? A: I loved them.

Is referring to a Second Victim (This child) and Not her mother because...well one Amane has shown Very Little Fondness for her mother, and two it's entirely possible she killed multiple people because her staff in Purge March has blood on it Before she gets to her house.

Second thing: Cat Symbolism, Cat Symbolism stay winning forever. There is substantial amount of subtext you can wring out of the Cat being representative of sin and impurity, and Amane taking care of it and also being the Cat. Same with having her be "found out" by a peer and then sold out to, to her Religious Fundamentalist parents.

So now we go into my insane, circumstantial evidence, idea of Queer Infighting. I love WKTD and a big thing in that game is that even if your a "bad kid" if there's someone "worse" than you, you can live another day. And this kid can be anyone, the devil can be Anyone.

Amane has stated an inability to be a good girl:

Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl

And a lack of desire to exactly "be one" since it requires her not being...herself, and she's happy with who she is.

T2Q20: How do you feel about you not being like everyone else? A: Nevertheless I was born as myself, so I'm happy

So, I'm just saying on a purely speculatory "this would be fun" basis. If we got queer infighting 12 year olds who are trying their best to be "good." I would explode.

Also, she is paralleled with both Mukuhara Kazui and known Genderless Freak Es so, yknow.

#asks #other analysis #doctorbunny #sorry if this is all over the place I have a lot of disconnected thoughts on this

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void-of-unparalled-chaos · 3 days

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Okay so time for me to dump my thoughts on the Underworld Saga because I am going insane and tbh I'm not sure how coherent this will be because my brain is mostly keyboard smashing.

The Shades: "When does a man become a monster? 558 men who died under your command. CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! Why would you let the cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy?"

Okay so the harmonies of the Shades are amazing! But also this whole bit is just so... haunting. The call back to Just a Man and Ruthlessness does something to me. Could you imagine being screamed at by the ghosts of everyone you've failed? Also Jay confirmed that the shades in this song are just repeating their final thoughts in life. They drowned begging for their Captain to help them and died wondering why he failed them. This probably fucked Odysseus UP.

Odysseus: "I keep thinking of the infant from that night. I keep thinking of the infant from that night."

I swear I can hear the PTSD in his voice holy shit. Also Astyanax's music box motif being played in church bells in the back. I never would have noticed it if not for Jay's behind the scenes videos but knowing it's there makes this bit so much better.

Odysseus: "Polities..."

I was not nearly as wrecked at this bit until I saw this post mentioning that Odysseus quiet little "Polities..." is a mirror of Polities strangled "Captain..." when he died and now I will never be the same.

Odysseus' Mom

I am not exaggerating when I say I cried during the watch party. Everything about this is heartbreaking. His mom was thinking about him in her final moments. "Odyssues when you come home I'll be waiting" except she wont be. The shocked defeat in Odysseus' voice with "I took too long...". He's right there in front of her, but her shade just doesn't register him. They are so close physically yet still separated by death. Also the fact that Jay's mom voices her that is so sweet omg.

The change from "Here in the Underworld the past seems close behind" to "But in the Underworld your past is always close behind."

STTAGKDUKFUTAATUFOUCOUXGJXG

THE STRINGS!!!!! AND THE PIANO!!!!

Tiresias' voice is so haunting omg

Mason absolutely NAILED prophet who is constantly being shown everything all the time at one I love it sm.

The lyrics in this song are just.... so good. And the foreshadowing is top notch

Jay's voice acting for Odysseus' is also great in this.

The distress and frustration in "We've suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells. Now you tell us ur efforts are for NOTHING?!" and the absolute anger in "WHO!?!?!" (Its you, Ody. See your about to go through a complete change in morals about 5 minutes from now and become a completely different person).

THE DESCENDING ORGAN FOR THE SECOND CHORUS MY JAW DROPPED

Jorge don't think I didn't notice the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hellfire, vibes at the end I see you.

This is my favorite song released in Epic so far and I am not normal about it at all.

The GUITAR! THE ELECTRIC GUITAR!

For those unfamiliar and being dragged along this nonsense post, Odysseues character is associated with the guitar. The acoustic guitar is when he is softer, kinder, and more "human" while the electric guitar represents him at his most brutal, ruthless, and "monsterous". This song is his turning point to which he is done being merciful. He will do ANYHTING to get home.

"Oh Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves..."

Really taking Poseidon's lesson to heart there.

Odysseus: "AND IF I GOTTA DROP ANOTHER INFANT FROM A WALL IN AN INSTANT SO WE ALL DON'T DIE? THEN I'LL BECOME THE MONSTER! I WILL DEAL THE BLOW!... SO WHAT IF I'M THE MONSTER?"

Ayrsgstusigxjgsutaut holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Play this back to back with Just A Man for some psychic damage. What an end for Act 1!

#epic the underworld saga #epic the musical

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fudgecake-charlie · 5 months

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In no way canon to secret life whatsoever, i just wanted to draw a background in aggie and felt self indulgent

cropped ver:

#secret life smp #slsmp #desert duo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #what can i say. i'm insane about them right now #the wheelchair is so not accurate (the seat is too short) BUT i had a fun time referencing this e-trike wheelchair so idm lol #aggie.io my beloved <3 #no close ups— too small to put real detail into the characters but its ok i've already put around three hours into this thing somehow #art out the oven #edit: added a cropped version actually i was lying /lh not a closeup but still

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shopcat · 1 year

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people will see two characters who are good friends ... best friends even ...live in each others pockets ... are incredibly important to each other and a really lovely and sweet and very simple example of friendship being important and fulfilling and meaningful and beautiful and not "just" friendship because there is no such thing... and then they will turn around and they haven't even finished the previous sentence before being like Oh but if this one wasn't a lesbian she would be in love with her male best friend and vice versa. obviously. or he has feelings for her but he "let them go" because she's a lesbian if she wasn't though they would date. in fact if this was a magical world where he was a girl all along they would be in love because all that stuff i said about friendship and importance was actually just words ?!

and like beyond the sheer lesbophobia and sheer CRUELTY for him to even consider either of them in that light on a regular basis i would honestly prefer people own the fuck up to what they're apparently trying to say here and fully commit to going "No, i DON'T actually think friendship that stays platonic and that factor of it will NEVER change can be equally important or MORE SO as other kinds of relationships and in fact i don't think the very idea exists i was just saying all that stuff about platonic nonromantic soulmates to just say it". right before the apparent mission statement of so many that is "if a lesbian is friends with a man i think her sexuality is getting in the way in one way or another". i wish you people just literally got your phones taken away and a parental lock put in place.

#i wish when you blocked people it hurt them.#he. and obv you know who i'm talking about. DOES NOT HAVE FEELINGS FOR HER #and she. DOES NOT HAVE AND NEVER HAS AND NEVER WOULD AND NEVER COULD HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM #you're NOT going oh in another life we would've got married if i wasn't gay you're not DOING that #you're being WEIRD. STOP IT. ITS SO FUCKING EASY 😭😭😭#if you seriously can't conceptualise any of those dumb hypotheticals where he's like a girl the whole time or shes Not a lesbian #where the end goal isn't ''oh so they can date now :)'' it's.... so they're still friends.... THEN YOURE INSANE ‼️‼️‼️#AND POSSIBLY FUCKING EVIL‼️‼️‼️#so they ''CAN'' date now sends shivers up my spine #this is what i mean when i say i hate that codependent shit now. no one can be normal about it and now i hate it all #i'm going to make anti codependent hcs to put negativity out there to balance it out. i don't think steve knows her last name #also anyone who thinks steve as of s4 has any sort of feelings for robin that is literally so gross 😭 why would you even like him if you #thought that. case in point and i'm NOT even exaggerating here that is what people who Hate steve say #as proof for hating him. cuz they think he has feelings for her. which is something you would hate him for #also literally do not doubt me for if some reason in s5 he says and acrually means ''i have feelings for robin still'' i would .. stop #liking him... it would be easy.....#sts #anyway. this isn't about trans content either that's a whole other . Thing. which i don't really care about right now

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sherlock-is-ace · 9 months

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#argentina saw trump and went ''yeah we want one of those!''...#this absolutely insane man might become president and fully ruin the country (more than it already is)#which is never fun but even worse when you're queer...#today i'm glad i'm living with dysphoria every day but haven't started T #because as sad and absolutely awful as what i'm about to say is...#i can pretend to be a cis woman for safety...#which is a HORRIBLE thing to say or do #but i don't have to put myself out there trying to get hrt or anything like that #or legally change my name and gender mark while looking like i look... that might get me killed or something #bare in mind everything i'm saying A. hasn't happened yet #and B. is being said by someone with an anxiety disorder who can't see hope right now... so take it with a grain of salt #i'm just scared and i don't like the state of the world right now...#and we were somewhat safe in some aspects here and we're so close to losing them now #i'm scared and hate it here but i'm also broke and can't leave so...#we are where we are where we are i guess #angel talks #personal #sorry for the politics... i'm not going to start posting politics #the point of my blog is to escape the hell that is the real world... but i needed to vent and also you know me i love screaming at the void

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earlyspringtranscendence · 2 years

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i wish betting on wrestling was like a thing because while i would never win if i bet on anything else (am bad at recognising patterns that actually mean anything) i would cash in soooooo much because i can ALWAYS tell when a jericho feud’s gonna run way too long again 😌

#hello hi . im stressed out this fair sunday evening #feel like im failing at school already its been like a month and yet #one of my teachers v much implied i'd fail her assignment if i didnt do a bunch of extra shit and like #theres reasons for it that i can see from her side but theres also just the issue that i told her about of like #i just dont know how to work with that many materials and slash or i cant go out and buy all these things right now #and then she's like well go down to xyz and ask them to do it for you and its like honey i dont know why you think we've got such a like #mutually beneficial relationship going on between all the applied and fine arts in this school like #thats a fiction that lives in your head ... especially after we just didn't exist in this school for a whole year #and anyway. i went ahead and tried some different materials and its just like. you cant make up what an insane failure thats been #and its not that i didnt try my best its just that like idk what she wants from me #cause anyway theres a reason i picked the materials that i did the first time round #changing those just kinda changes the meaning of the thing in general... which is something SHE teaches us #anyway. and tomorrow i have class w someone who i'm Difficult with (as in like i have a hard time around her im not purposefully difficult)#(its just that she makes me feel that way cause of the 'tism and cause of the fact she thinks she knows how to handle the 'tism)#(she doesnt)#and again i did a lot of work for her im just sure she's gonna expect me to have done more #but in my defense. i need to go to the doctor and see if they can prescribe me some form of ritalin bc my exhaustion was so bad last wk #and has been bad for a hot second lately #and theres really only so much i can do with the spoons at hand #anyway. and im also Sad Right Now because ive been ignored and interrupted while saying things a little too frequently recently #and im not laughing. im having a Time.#i didnt even have that bad of a week all things considered but goddd i need a break

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waitingonher · 4 months

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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]

summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!

author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo

percy jackson — doodling on him

“give me your hand.”

“yes ma’am.”

minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.

“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”

he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?”

“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…”

your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.”

“whatever.”

jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes

“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?”

nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.”

a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.”

you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink.

“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"

you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."

leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows

“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth.

leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”

“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act.

your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!”

your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.”

“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.”

"i'm seriously going to kill you."

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arminsumi · 3 months

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♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

Pairings : fem reader / bully!Gojo Satoru / bully!Geto Suguru

Synopsis : college boy Satoru bullying you around with his best friend

Warnings : bullying kink, degradation, dacryphilia, dirty talk, bl*wjob, p*ssyjob, semi-public s*x, rough s*x, perv behaviors, namecalling (wh*re, sl*t, b*tch), getting caught, threesome, +++

Bully!Gojo who asks Suguru to trip you down the corridors as you walk past them, so that you can fall right into his arms.

"Oopsie..." Suguru says, grinning like a jackass and sticking his leg out. Your face plants into the muscular chest of that white-haired freak, and then he pulls out one of his awful pick-up lines on you; "Fallin' for me, sweetheart? I knew you would eventually." he blatantly stares straight down at your cleavage. "What!" you give them a repulsed look and pull back. Your reaction elicits giggles from your two bullies, and they check out your ass as you walk away in a fit of anger. "... I'd give her backshots 'till dawn." Satoru says, and Suguru shakes his head at his best friend, "You're insane." he says, but Satoru says, "She looks like she needs to get fucked hard."

Bully!Gojo who grumbles and folds his arms, sat in the principle's office after pulling a water-dumping stunt on you just to see your nipples go hard.

He glares at his spiralbound notebook. Instead of writing an apology letter like the principle instructed him to do within an hour, he ends up writing your name over and over and drawing hearts around it, filling the page with little doodles of you as if he's some obsessed high school boy.

Bully!Gojo who loves the squeaks he elicits out of you when he slams and pins you against the wall.

"I bet you get so wet for me when I do this." he taunts, whispering lowly into your ear. "No I don't!" you lie, glaring up at him. He arches his back and bends his knees to level himself with your face, "Liar." he says, lips grazing your cheek. "F—feel for yourself, freak. You'll see I'm not wet..." you bluff. He arches a brow and dips his fingers between your thighs, making you gasp as he presses against your hole through your panties. He just grins, backs away, cockily lifts his chin, and leaves you standing there embarrassed.

Bully!Gojo who muffles your moans on his big hand while caging you with his body in the cramped closet at a college party.

He grinds his crotch against you, making you aware of the size difference between your bodies as his big, heavy cock divides your tiny pussy lips. "I know you need me, baby." he lowers his voice, cautious about getting caught with you in here, "Just say the word and I'll take you to heaven, I promise." he murmurs almost romantically, but before he can fully cast his spell over you, your classmate Nanami Kento draws back the closet door. "Wow. We're at a party, what's wrong with you two?" he scolds. Satoru chuckles guiltily while you just crumble in embarrassment, "Out, out! Stop fucking in my damn closet...!"

Bully!Gojo who loves it when you try to retaliate by spitting on his uniform. It gives him a brilliant idea for the next time you visit his dorm room for a class project.

"Spit on it. Make it sloppier. Good... now choke on me." he shoves your head down on his cock, big hand firmly holding the back of your hair. He makes you take as much of his meaty cock as your tiny mouth can handle. He groans and cums so hard after just a few shallow thrusts into your mouth. "Hey, don't let it fucking spill out, you whore. I want to see you swallowing every. fucking. drop." and damn, his cum is so thick and so much that you nearly choke on it. But that just makes his ego swell.

Bully!Gojo who stalks you like a cat in school, following you down corridors, cornering you in quiet classrooms, getting up in your face.

He doesn't let you breathe, he always closes the spaces and gaps between you and him. He'll be chewing you out for something, calling you a dumb slut while grazing his lips over yours. Arguments always lead to him growling "Shut up..." before slamming his lips onto yours. And when Satoru kisses you? He starts moaning real quick, something about you just makes him weak. Next thing you know, his fingertips are rising up your thighs and daring under your skirt, and your fingers are exploring under his shirt, feeling over his muscles.

Bully!Gojo who fingers you into ecstasy... in the middle of class.

He'll sit himself next to you, and you'll squirm uncomfortably under the scowls you receive from jealous girls. Thirty minutes into the lecture, you whisper-shout under your breath, "Satoru, you're embarrassing me!" and he murmurs back, "No, baby, you're embarrassing yourself with how fucking wet you are. Just listen to that pussy..." he goes harder, the sounds get louder and you can hardly think with how his fingers rub in and out of you. Satoru makes you orgasm on his fingers right there, grinning like a bastard at the feeling. You bet he taunts you afterwards, "I can't believe how slutty you are... you'd be a slutty girlfriend, huh?"

Bully!Gojo who has Suguru apologizing on his behalf all the time.

"I'm so sorry... I swear Satoru's not usually this much of a menace. He's just got a thing for you, haha..." it hurts his lil' heart to see you getting pushed around... sike. Lots of Gojo's gutsy plans originate from his nasty best friend. Satoru can only come up with the most basic shit; stealing your lunch, tickling your back, pinning you to the wall, bluffing how he'll "ruin your life". But Suguru? He's the one with the good ideas; dumping water on you from the balcony to see your cloths sticking to your body, persuading explicit pics out of you, and smirkingly staring at them with a wide-eyed Satoru... who thanks him.

Bully!Gojo who's got the most foul, nasty dirty talk.

"I'm gonna cum, don't stop!" you squeal in the backseat of his car, feeling him pound into you from the back. "Of course you are..." he humiliates you, pounding you harder and harder into your orgasm, "... tell me you're my little whore." he grunts. "I'm your whore!" you squeal, "Again..." he smiles sadistically, "I'm your whooore!" you reply weakly. He pulls you to his chest and grinds deeper inside, "Yeah that's right. You're just my little cock whore."

Bully!Gojo who gets off to you crying.

Tears streak your cheeks and your body shakes; trying to adjust to his size is impossible. He's always too deep, too thick, stretching you out and fucking up your guts like a pornstar. "Aw, can't take it? What a fucking crybaby." Satoru groans, slapping his hips into you back and forth like an animal. He hears you sniffling and moaning for more, "Keep crying; it's gonna make me cum so hard..."

Bully!Gojo who bets your pussy on a basketball game with Suguru and makes you sit and watch.

"Aw... princess, 'guess it's a draw. You don't mind if we share you, right? After all, sharing is caring. And we all care about each other, don't we?" Satoru smiles. They're sweaty and exhausted, but still have enough stamina in them to pound you. "Come on, show Suguru how sweet your holes feel."

Bully!Gojo and bully!Geto who literally bully their cocks into your pussy one after another, taking turns and telling you how good you feel and how good of a slut you are for them.

"Whose do you like better...?" Suguru asks, but you're too dumbed out, "I dunno! Both!" you squeal. He gives you a dangerous smile, "Aw... well, let's go another round and see." he says, making Satoru laugh, "Oh, I don't think she can handle another round. She's too weak."

Suguru just pushes your legs back, slides too deep inside, and coos, "You're right, Satoru. She takes cock like a bitch... we should train her into the perfect cockslut. Aw, look... she's smiling."

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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startrekmemequeen · 5 months

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CW: Politics, homophobia

I live in the part of Ukraine which is currently occupied by R*ssia. Right now i don't have any means to leave this territory. Today r*ssian government enacted a new law. According to it, LGBT+ is a "forbidden extremist organization" (i know it sounds ridiculous but it's what the law says) and any "LGBT activity" is now a crime. Even having a pride pin on your backpack can cost you at least 6 years in prison.

I can't post about this on any other social media because it would reveal my identity which would put me in danger. I'm posting this for awareness. I'm posting this so people from other countries would know what sick shit is happening here. I'm not asking anybody to do anything. I don't know what can be done to stop this. I don't think anything can be done at this point. R*ssia is going down. They've criminalized LGBT+, they're about to criminalize abortions. They've started a fucking WAR, they're killing my people. They're oppressing their own citizens.

I don't know what to do, i can't leave, i have no money, no education yet, and i have a family, i can't just leave them. I didn't ask to live in this insane country with inhumane laws, they came here and fucking occupied the place where i live.

If you're from another country, please spread awareness, educate yourself and don't support r*ssian government. If you're from r*ssia, hold on. I know you're scared, i'm scared too. But you're not alone. Just hold on.

#russia #russian government #politics #lgbt #lgbtq #activism #serrious issues #important

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gojorgeous · 3 months

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"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!”

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said.

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind.

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers.

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.”

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path.

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back.

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket.

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.”

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?”

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t.

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s.

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?”

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you.

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying.

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong.

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches.

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment.

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you.

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike.

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now.

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him.

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside.

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it.

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet.

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face.

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease.

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo.

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night.

“Yeah. Long day at work.”

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?”

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you.

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there.

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance.

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.”

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?”

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.”

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life.

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight.

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around.

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder.

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines.

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs.

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.”

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool.

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone.

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride.

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention.

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish?

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman.

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself.

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive.

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?”

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.”

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours.

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps.

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says.

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet.

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.”

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?”

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?”

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like.

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then…

“So, what’s your technique”

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual.

“Bet I could find out.”

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.”

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…”

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.”

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks.

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job…

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.”

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?”

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth.

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing.

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?”

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal.

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.”

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to.

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit.

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now.

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone.

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid.

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines.

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle.

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans.

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever.

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles.

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to.

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs.

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now.

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please…

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land.

Fuck.

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework.

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly.

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight.

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it.

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better.

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?”

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over.

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.”

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls.

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.”

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see.

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs.

Your lips part. “You knew?”

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?”

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him.

But you have one thing on him.

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.”

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.”

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.”

You freeze. He notices.

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?”

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation.

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.”

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo.

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?”

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced.

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display.

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin.

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes.

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?”

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree.

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…”

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides.

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone.

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again.

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.”

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.”

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased.

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.”

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.”

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue.

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right.

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you.

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault.

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes.

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away.

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?”

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone.

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick.

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole.

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out.

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.”

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages.

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.”

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut.

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.”

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.”

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you.

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth.

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him.

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.”

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same.

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant.

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs.

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind.

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be.

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you.

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death.

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest.

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?”

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.”

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?”

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe.

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.”

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?”

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been.

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free.

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position.

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind.

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you.

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.”

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?”

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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shotmrmiller · 20 days

Text

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader

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