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#like fine be uncomfortable with the violence
dinogoofymutated · 12 hours
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Omg I love your headcanons/fics!! I really need to ask if you'd be willing to write an addendum for the jealousy headcanons for Wolverine? Of course no pressure if you can't/don't feel like, just thought I'd try to ask! :) Hope you have a nice day/night, and keep up the good work! 💗💗💗
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Jealousy Headcannons!- Multi/GN!Reader - Wolverine, Morph, Angel, Sabretooth. You got it man!! Had a version of this requested for Logan so many times lol. I went ahead and added more characters to round it off into a full multi character hcs. Logan doesn't explicitly punch anyone in this one, so sorry if anyone was looking forward to that! (Sorry though, his is pretty similar to cable's) I'm also testing the waters while writing for Morph. I know everyone is starving for fics with them, but I'm not really used to writing for they/them characters (despite the fact that I try to avoid pronouns for the reader, weird I know, but its mostly due to me using you/your.) forgive me if I slip up with their pronouns, and let me know if I do so I can fix it! TWs: Violence (not towards reader, but some pretty mean names are called tho) Men can be creeps/harassment. Unnecessary changing scene with Warren bc I love non-sexual intimacy like that. Flirting, Barfights again but this time it's a little bloody (sabertooth) Drinking mentioned.
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Wolverine
Okay, so Logan here is a bit of a mixed bag when it comes to jealousy. I really feel like it depends on the situation? In general, he trusts you more than just about anyone. When someone flirts with you, he's generally just very grouchy and most of the time, quiet. He glares a lot, and if you meet his gaze he'll raise an eyebrow, basically asking if you need an out, and then he'd act accordingly.
Buuuttt. If he's in a bad mood or has had a tough day, he's more likely to resort to threats and intimidation to handle any romantic attention you might receive. He gets more physically protective and will usually have an arm slung around you at all times.
That's not to say he only gets jealous of romantic attention though. I feel like he also get jealous of anything and anyone taking up your time, really. he'd probably stay quiet until he just kinda snaps and drags you away from whatever has your attention for smooches and cuddles. Don't let him fool you by telling you he's not cuddly, he totally is.
"Back. Up. Bub." Logan's rumbling voice is venomous, a growl of warning as he bows up on the man in front of you. The two of you had been out on a mission together, which normally would have gone perfectly fine. Unfortunately, you'd ended up running into some old acquaintances of his. Both of you were bristiling at the contact, but you knew that coaxing Logan into a fight was just what he wanted. The man had been making moves on you the entire time- and although you were practically an expert in ignoring the flirtation from asshole guys, you were beginning to get more and more uncomfortable with it. It was when the man had started to make sexual comments about your body that Logan snapped.
"Who you callin' bub, pipsqueak?" The man smirks, looking down on Logan with arrogance. Anxiety had begun to worm it's way into your stomach.
"You better learn to watch your mouth." Logan growls. His fists flex as his claws unsheath, the adamantium practically itching to dig into the guy's skin. This was escalating fast, and you needed to stop it now. You both needed to complete the mission without any complications, extra fights included.
"Logan, Please, can we just go?" You say, grabbing his wrist and tugging before he can launch himself at the man. Logan's angry face remains intact, but you can see the way his shoulders slightly loosen. He glances at you, before backing off from the man with a snarl. You sigh in relief as Logan turns to follow you as you drag him away, just thankful you've avoided a problem at that point.
" 'bitch's got you on a hellava tight leash. Who knew the wolverine would be so whipped over some cheap whore." Logan stops abruptly at the words, sighing deeply as he looks at you, rage burning in his eyes. Whatever reserved attitude you had about this fight was basically gone, evaporating at the insults. You let out a long sigh, before you pull your hands away from him and shrug your shoulders. Logan grins at you wickedly.
So what if he came home with a few more bruises than normal? His knuckles would heal- but the ass whooping he gave out would damage that guy's ego forever.
Angel
Warren is the silently jealous type. No matter how bad he's being cooked with jealousy, he's really just going to keep an eye on you from afar. Growing up as a rich kid, I feel like his dad was very strict on manners and how not to make a public scene, which has kinda carried over into his adulthood.
If someone just won't give it a rest and keeps trying to pursue you, Warren will be not low-key about it. He'll come over and set his hand on your back, or sling his arm around your shoulder, or if he's feeling really cocky, Shake the person's hand and introduce himself as your boyfriend/husband. He'll only outright tell them to back off if they start to get out of hand and he knows you're getting really uncomfortable.
"I just don't like him." Warren says, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. He's still in his suit from before, the red and bright white standing out starkly compared to the muted warm tones of your shared bedroom. You laugh at him as you begin to change.
"What? Why? I think Pietro is kinda funny." You ask, beginning to take off your shirt. Warren sighs in a petty way.
"Yeah, exactly." He mumbles under his breath, walking over to help you when your head gets stuck in the neckline like it always does. You give him a kiss on his cheek when you're free, not quite having heard him.
"Can't I dislike him just to dislike him? I don't need a reason." Warren speaks up this time, and you can't seem to hold back your amused smile as he digs his hole deeper. "-but, if I did, I'd say he's just too friendly with you. I don't like it." You can't help but laugh at that as you finish changing into more comfortable clothes. He turns around on autopilot, letting you unzip him from his suit- careful not to catch his blonde hair with the zipper.
"It's not like he's taking me away from you, Warren." You say, pressing a kisses to his exposed neck and back as you help him navigate his wings through. Warren huffs a little, his wings twitching as his voice goes soft.
"I never said that. I know he's not. I trust you enough to know so. I just..." He trails off, stepping out of his suit and left in his boxers. He lets you pull his shirt over him, stretching his wings in the confined space of the bathroom when its on correctly. You cock an eyebrow at him now that you're facing him, waiting for him to continue. He doesn't, simply looking away from you to avoid your knowing gaze. You let out an amused chuff before closing in on him.
"It's okay to be jealous, Warren, but I promise you, I'm not going anywhere." You say confidently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He sighs again, but smiles as he looks at you with a soft and loving gaze. His arms wrap around your waist as he rests his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as the two of you begin to sway a little.
"Yeah, I know."
Morph
I really think that Morph is more of an insecure jealous type, but they're more likely to hide it behind humor. If you're being flirted and don't seem to be overly uncomfortable, they're probably going to fade into the background. They know that you love them, and they trust you, but they're so used to being second best for everyone they know that they just feel like they're bothering you. Later on, when whoever is flirting with you leaves, Morph will shift into them and start joking about it. Don't let the humor fool you, they're hurting right now. Just give Morph some extra love and kisses and reassurance and they'll feel better eventually.
Now, if it's clear that someone is bothering you, Morph won't be afraid to roast the everloving shit out of them. They take the moment to really embarrass the person, and if you're in a bar he'd totattally shift into the dude just to offer a drink to everyone and then dip, sticking the asshole with the bill.
You really didn't like clubs. They were busy and loud, but you had a friend celebrating her birthday in one, so who were you to turn down the invite? You certainly couldn't go without your favorite shapeshifter by your side either. The only problem was that Morph wasn't the only one who had eyes for you that night. Morph hadn't said anything in the moment, but you knew stuff like this bothered them. Even while walking home from the club, they still seemed to be trying to brush it off.
"Hey, Good-lookin. You interested?" Morph says, having shifted into the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. They're leaning against the side of the payphone like a goofball, having waited there as you called the school to let the others know you were finally on the way home, tipsy, but still hoping the fresh air would sober the both of you up. You roll your eyes as you giggle at them, shoving their shoulder and sending them stubiling.
"In that guy? No way!" You laugh, walking past Morph before they quickly catch up to you.
"You gotta admit, he was pretty handsome for a POS." They joke, puckering their lips and making kissy faces at you.
"Mmhm. suuureeee." You hum, pushing their face away from yours as they laugh.
"Come on, you saying' that tall dark and handsome isn't your type?" Morph shifts from the man at the club, and into the blonde, blue-eyed Warren worthington, wings hidden underneath the supposed coat. "-Or maybe you'd prefer blondes. I hear Warren's quite at catch." You huff at them, and shake your head again. Something in their tone of voice just seems to set off alarms in your brain, and they doesn't seem to be acting as genuine with you anymore, a vulnerability creeping into their voice no matter how hard they were trying to hide it. This goes on for a rather solid minute, Morph shifting into different people you know and asking who you prefer with a laugh and a fake smile. You shake your head every time, but it's starting to become more than just a bit. You begin to lose your patience, your own hurt seeping through the cracks.
"You're into the gruff, muscly, Logan, right? Hafta' be if you're still-"
"Kevin." You finally cut them off with a stern tone of voice, grabbing their wrist as you abruptly stop walking. They flinch at the name, eyes blowing wide with concern as they shift from logan, then to the dark haired version of themselves- before then settling on the form you know so well.
"... Not the government name." They mumble, more caught up in the strict way you said their name rather than the words themselves. You grab them by the collar of their leather jacket, pulling them close to you as you look into their eyes.
"How many times to I have to tell you I love you for you to believe me?" You whisper after a moment, voice coming out a little broken. Morph's seems to panic a little, making a concerned face as their hands catch hold of your wrists gently.
"I- no, that's not what I..." Morph says, trying their best to fix the situation. They can't seem to come up with the right words, their eyes avoiding your gaze as their mouth opens and closes with no luck. You cup the side of their face, bringing them back to face you.
"I. Love. You." You say purposefully. "Not some guy at the club- you, Morph. Any part of you that you want to give me, Any form you want to take. As long as it's you, I don't care." Morph relaxes at your words, sighing as you bring them closer to you, resting their forehead against your own.
"Yeah?" They ask, eyes fluttering closed.
"Yeah." You reply, finally leaning in to kiss them lovingly. They return the kiss softly, only separating from you when you begin to drag them down the sidewalk with you once again, hand in hand.
Sabertooth
He does not handle jealousy well at all. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past him to put someone in the hospital. It doesn't matter if they're just flirting, or if they're actually bothering you, he's going to start some shit. The man loves to start fights, and he couldn't care less what the reason is for. I will say though, he's gonna be a lot less smiley if the person insults either of you. He may be a shitstarter, but he doesn't take disrespect, especially not disrespect towards his S/O.
He's never mad at you for it. If anything, he's glad you gave him the chance to take some anger out. He'll encourage you to wear sexy and revealing outfits because he wants to see you wear them, and also because he's gonna beat the shit out of the first guy (and every guy, honestly) to look at you the wrong way. ESPECIALLY if you have boobs. Those are his boobs. He wants them to be popping out of your clothes 24/7 but no one else is allowed to look at them. Did he just see someone glance at you? Say goodbye to your teeth, motherfucker. (and your balls too.)
Victor loved shitty dive bars, as gross and unsanitary they may be. He liked to bar hop a few of them every other night, and although you weren't necessarily the dive bar type, you did enjoy spending time with him. Normally you'd just wear casual clothes, but today you had wanted to dress up a little bit. Nothing too fancy, but your shirt was a little low cut compared to what you normally wear. Victor had been loving it, especially since he got to have you as his eye-candy. That was what you were going for, and you succeeded! The only problem was that he wasn't the only one appreciating the view.
You were sitting at the bar, watching Victor win another round of pool while sipping on your drink. A man had sat next to you earlier, but you didn't think anything of it at first. It was a busy saturday night, and there weren't that many seats open at the bar. At most, you had a uneasy tingling on the back of your neck, feeling that someone was watching you.
"What's a fine thing like you doing in this shitty place?" The man suddenly asks. You send him a questioning glance, almost baffled at the flirting. He must be new here, because every other regular of this place knew for a fact who you always come here with, and no other man is stupid enough to try their luck with you while he's lingering around.
"Who, me? Enjoying some peace and quiet, obviously." You say in a sarcastic tone. The man chuckles next to you.
"Aw, not interested, sweetheart? I swear I'll make it worth your while." You make an obviously disgusted face at that, beginning to wonder who this guy thinks he is. The tingling feeling you feel hasn't let up, in fact, it's only gotten stronger. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up, and you can't help but feel like something is seriously wrong here. You brushed it off on the alcohol, but Victor had always been a bit more perceptive than you. He barely glanced over in your direction before he was storming over. For a split second you think he's mad at you, until he violently grabs the man next to you by the collar, his claws scraping across his collarbones and causing him to yelp as he shallow cuts begin to bleed.
"Did I just see you staring?" Victor huffs, glaring so hard you swear the man shrinks underneath his gaze. Every bit of confidence he had a minute ago had vanished completely.
"W-what? I... Uh..." The man stutters, unable to say a complete sentence through his fear. Victor turns to you slightly, his grip not letting up for a second.
"He say something to you, Doll?" He asks, and you wonder if you should tell him the truth. You almost felt bad for the guy in his grip, knowing that he was probably just stupid and new to this bar. You shake your head in response, even though the stranger had been giving you off vibes since the moment he sat down. Victor grins at you, a loving excitement in his eyes as his grip only gets tighter.
"Aww, you don't have to lie, sweet thing." Victor chuckles, and you grimace when you realise that he totally saw that lie coming a mile away. Vic turns back to the man, his smile dropping instantly as his other hand slips the guy's phone out and slams it on the counter of the bar. "Open your camera." Vic snarls. The man starts to panic now, squirming to get out of his grip.
"N-no! Let go of me Man!" The man stutters. Vic only begins to grin again.
"Nuh-uh. I want you to show my baby the photos you've been taking all night." Photos? You didn't know anything about any photos. Your brows furrow as the man begins to whine and panic, squirming to no avail. Vic smirks at you as he send you a nodd, and you grab the phone and open the creep's gallery. There has to have been over thirty photos of you from just tonight, sitting at the bar, ordering your first drink, even one from when you had gotten up to use the restroom.
"Oh, gross!" You say, recoiling from the phone and wiping your hands on your shirt, not wanting to know where this guys hands had been all night. The man in Victor's grip has gone completely pale, freezing at the sight of Vic's terrifying smile. He reaches over towards the phone with his free hand, picking up the device before crushing it with his bare hand.
"Why don't you head outside, honeybee. I'll take out the trash while you're gone."
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batfleckgifs · 7 months
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Always thinking about how people find it inappropriate for a "Vigilante" that dresses as a bat to be beating up child traffickers and mercenaries who are using guns and rocket launchers at him because it's "bad" and "hurts other people" whom impunitively and without reproach would kill him :)) and also ignore the narrative that it's not the martha scene that changes him but it's superman death specifically to the point that the script has to tell you, point by point, that men are still good, and that he has failed him in life but he won't fail him in death
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falcon-doing-doodles · 3 months
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I'm not one to kink shame really, but I think the fact that I've just passively heard a lot about spanking, choking, degrading speak, and similar in the context of M/F relationships
Does mean something
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akkivee · 1 year
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actually i do have an unpopular hypmic opinion, those homage songs (shinogi, drops, etc) understandably make people uncomfortable but the songs they sample/interpolate from serve a narrative function and i think it’s COOL
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strwbrymlkshake · 1 year
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the experience hurts, but I think it's so romantic that we both feel like the world is ending whenever we accidentally upset eachother ♡
#mine#🎸#irl darling#yancore#irl yandere#darlingcore#yandere vent#the word darlingcore seems like the sweetest artificial strawberry dessert in the history of the world. a dessert thats past the due date#like leftover valentines cupcakes no one wanted to eat bc they taste musty. OK ANYWAYS#i do post the unhealthy aspects of myself/my feelings but i never post about the good things as often#seems like all i do is complain on here. rest assured its going well! like we are both insane but with communication its going good!#i am making a lot more progress in being possessive setting boundaries etc! even if its probably a basic thing he changed his pfp#without me going balls to the wall batshit insane<3 plus im learning to take things at face value rather than trying to decipher#the possible hidden meanings. the killing and violence is still prevalent but what can be expected? from me ofc?#he may not be outwardly insane but he is plenty deranged in his heart and thats what counts<3#i sort of made a threat in his stead today. felt so alive. invigorated dare i say. it wasnt real polite though#and im trying to be nicer instead of violence killing forever. i can still have a little bit of violence killing as a treat though#i may make a tag for a certain guy who annoys me. not sure if its worth it. idk how long he will be in my life#i'll just do a quick complaint. hes fine and all but sometimes i want him to explode. he says the most uncomfortable things and it can be#insufferable to be in a convo w him cause he makes it about his own misery OR makes it nsfw.#he called MY DARLING. MY! DARLING! the special nickname that i call him no one else can fucking call him that#i wanted to tear out his spine tear off his face literally maim his corpse unimaginable violence death death death burn him alive etc#we are 'friends' though :) he is good natured. i guess. whatever i felt white hot rage but its back to my default pink demeanor now#idk if i said this here before but he really is just the small fish id buy so my favorite fish could have friends#keeping him around just because he makes my fish happy. though he does make my fish inconvenienced sometimes and i want to#donate him to blast testing for this. wow i can truly be the most awful manipulative person on here. gay rights and goodnight everybody
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janeromeroshow · 8 months
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MUNDAY NO-NO AND YES LIST
Send ✋ for a prompt/plot/concept/ anything you refuse to role play
potentially controversial for a horror media roleplay blog, but i don't have any interest in roleplaying torture / murder or copious amounts of gore for the sake of gore with jane. i'm fine with canon-typical injury, and violent situations in general that may even surpass that, but there's a line where it just becomes torture-porn and it just makes me extremely uncomfortable to write when i feel like it crosses that line. that, and i don't want to write her straight up dying outside of in a trial context just because i don't find that compelling.
for all my lovely killer mutuals, this doesn't mean you can never be violent towards jane in threads; i'd be stupid to suggest that in the canon and even then, i enjoy writing conflict and fighting! what i don't like is the idea of "let me very specifically torture and murder your character with no sort of consequence or actual plot because it's what my character would do".
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"In the day time, I'm Andres, just a normal guy with a normal life, but there's something there is something that nobody knows, that I have a secret"
"It's Berlin-"
Perfect, anon! As long as we're watching Disney anyway.
#the whole berlin thing is so annoying#but what's more annoying to me personally is the gradual watering down of Pina's writing (at least regarding lcdp)#I know he's not writing prestige tv and I'm not saying only 'violent' writing is good#and it's not even particularly about Violence or the lack of it. vol 1 was the most violent and the worst writing of his I've seen lmfao#it got insanely stereotypical with his main characters losing their edge#Martín becoming a big no revenge softie in the span of one season#Bogotá becoming a twitter ally#whatever the fuck is happening to Berlin now lol#like compare all of this to the first part of lcdp which had this cold sharpness to it. genuinely uncomfortable scenes that left a bad taste#in your mouth even with no violence#and it was pretty balanced! it did have its fair share of heart and laughter and love and nice vibes#but it was sharp and the characters seemed very real and multidimensional and people seriously capable of harm#they were actual hardened criminals. which is the only thing that makes sense lol. '#naive characters like Rio who were in for the fun of it got the biggest reality slaps because doing crime on that level wasn’t a joke lol#and that's what gave the show actual tension#and made it fun to watch#now it has this disney element where I just can't believe any of them lmfao. sure we don’t know much but on the very least I don’t believe#Andrés. He's barely a character here. he's like the criminal version of ted lasso#which sure. a show like that could work fine on its own#but remember when the original network was negotiating with Pina on whether a character like Berlin was even appropriate for tv and#swallowable by audiences because how paradoxical and perverse he was?#now he's ladybug
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dr-felitas · 2 months
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pairing: aventurine x reader | fluff with vv light angst (tbh its only kinda implied) | wc: 347
a/n: i had the urge, i felt the need, i wanted to use his real name. i love it. it makes him him.
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“kakavasha!” you chant his name like a prayer, full of hope. you let out a loud sigh of relief upon seeing your boyfriend opening his eyes.  “finally you're awake, i was worried sick!”
your hands rested on his shoulders, pursing your lips as your eyes scan his face for any signs of discomfort.
huh. why did you look so perplexed? it hit him when he felt a cool droplet glide down his warm cheek. was he seriously tearing up right now? and why'd it feel like he was burning up, cold sweat was glistening on his skin and his head felt dizzy.
just what in the world was happening?
“thank god you're awake! i tried to shake you awake for the past five minutes now. because you kept whispering something about a grand death and kept moving uncomfortably.” your right hand reaches out to the lobe of his ear to play  with his turquoise peacock feather-like earring, tangling it around your fingers.
oh, so that's what it's all about.
“are you alright?” your eyes darted over his handsome face, skin almost as pale as porcelain and eyes alluring as ever.
“if something or someone is bothering you, let's talk about it. or resort to violence, i’ll kick their ass, whichever you prefer!” you lightly chuckle. 
“don't try to take the burden all upon yourself, okay?” , shooting him a look that says “i’m always here for you, don’t forget that - don’t forget me.”
upon hearing that he can only smile fondly. after all, he loves you and his family more than anything and anyone - even more than himself.
but perhaps, perhaps this wasn't the right time to tell you. at least not yet. the right time will eventually come - no it will come. he has everything planned out.
“don't worry. i’m fine, everything is and will continue to stay fine. trust me.” he reassures you before suddenly pulling you into a tight embrace, being pulled onto his lap as your head is buried into the crook of his neck.
“let’s stay like this for a bit longer. please.”
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© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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soapymansuds · 3 months
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Currently can’t get the idea of the brothers’ sins “rubbing off on” MC when they spend too much time together, so here’s a collection of blurbs about that
(Warnings: Mild violence)
-They have to rotate the seating chart at breakfast every few days because MC will start becoming subconscious more susceptible to their sins if they sit in one place too often
“Hey, guys?” Levi calls to the table, who ignore him almost completely.
“Guys.” He groans again. “Helloooo?” He rolls his eyes as they continue to chat and bicker. “Fine then.”
He shrugs his shoulder casually as he stands up, rounds the table, and hoists a completely unconscious MC onto his shoulder.
All of his brothers look up in shock as they notice MC’s movement, glaring confusedly at Levi. But their eyes quickly fall to an equally conscious Belphie, head rested uncomfortably on the table.
“I told you it was rotation day.”
-Or MC, who is suddenly in desperate need of a full new wardrobe after being tasked with “supervising” Mammon’s shopping trip.
“C’mon human, lemme see.” He groans from outside the dressing room. The pair of them had been trading the room back and forth for hours now, and the piles of “keeps” and “put backs” are frankly getting out of hand.
“That’s it!” They call from within the curtain. “I can’t keep doing this! I’m just getting all of them. I can resell anything I don’t actually like.” They groan, throwing open the curtain, stacks of barely affordable new goods tossed lackluster over their arm and shoulder.
“Not like I’m gonna stop you, but weren’t you saving up for that, uh…. whatcha call it?” He can’t help but laugh a little at the barely noticeable gold glint in their eyes. “Y’know what? Never mind. Buy it all. You deserve it.”
-And the Anti-Lucifer league seems to pose a whole new threat to the house hold.
“Satan, Belphegor. We need to talk.” Lucifer sighs, standing ominously in the doorway to the library.
“We’re actually quite busy right now, can it wait?” Belphie groans, glancing around Lucifer’s form like he was looking for something.
“If you’re looking for MC, they will not be attending your meeting. Or any of your meetings for the foreseeable future.”
Both brothers turn to him, an angry question in their eyes.
“MC was found sleeping on the floor of an unoccupied classroom at RAD.”
“So what? They needed a nap.” Belphie shrugs, currently laying on the floor himself.
“If that was all the issue was, I wouldn’t be here now. But unfortunately for you, when Mammon attempted to wake them up, they grabbed the closest desk chair and beat him over the head with it.” Lucifer sighs, tilting a pointed glare at Satan.
“Incredible.” I all he can respond, Belphegor cackling at his side.
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whore-ibly-hot · 11 months
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Yan!Soldier/General x Fem!Reader
'His little bride.'
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, mentions of sa, p-in-v sex, mentions of war and military, implied violence, threats, possible dub-con as reader does not know the full story behind our yan's goals, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names.
(AN: Not me coming back from the grave to drop a horny fic and this disappear again. Gonna go eat some pumpkin roll.)
Part 2 here
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The sound of papers shuffling and a heavy sigh pierces the usual quiet of General Fritz's office, which is only occasionally broken by you dusting or rearranging one of the many books on the various shelves that lined the room. It's been 3 weeks since the invasion of your small town of Cyril, and the few civilian homes not destroyed in the invasion have been turned into functioning barracks and homesteads for the troops that now occupy your town. While not ideal, the army Fritz serves aligns with the beliefs of your villages people much more than the opposition, and while they are still invaders, many believe them to be the lesser of two evils. You remain as quiet as you can as Fritz attends to his work with a furrowed brow.
General Fritz, while known for his excellence in military strategics and his translation skills, seems to be struggling with the morning's crossword puzzle. A man of 42, he has served in his countries army since he was just 15, leaving his family's small farm and quickly rising through the ranks. He's a scarred man, with many gashes, stubble, and hair that when not in public is rather unkempt. Despite the things he's seen, a kindness remains in his bespectacled eyes. He gives up on the crossword puzzle, allowing the paper to fall to his desk with a 'plop!'. You glance over at him, and approach.
"Sir, is there anything you need, you seem a bit, well, stressed." You say, trying not to impose but express concern. When the troops arrived, many men were recruited, and many girls had to seek jobs. Some had to turn to unsavory means to get by, but you were lucky, you supposed. You were scouted out to serve as a guide and servant for the general, to both give information and serve his needs. While the thought of serving a strange man, one much older than you at that had frightened you, he was nothing like the other soldiers you had seen. He was polite, careful not to scare you off, provided you with good quarters, and never laid hands on you. All in all, the situation would have been perfect, had you not missed your family's bakery from which you were taken. For reasons you didn't fully understand, he never wanted you to travel far beyond his estate and into town.
He sighs. "I am fine, my dear girl. Just dealing with some disputes at the border of the county. Nothing you should concern yourself with." He says. He looks up at you, his glasses reflecting the light of his desk lamp. "Would you mind drawing me a bath, my dear? It has been... quite the day, and I think I need some time to relax." You quickly nod, and scurry off to the master bedroom, entering the attached bathroom and beginning to fill the tub with hot water. After some time, Fritz enters, looking as though he is fighting the urge to ask a question. "I... I hate to ask this of you, and say no if at any point in my asking you are uncomfortable or find me uncouth, but-" He hesitates. "I am very tired, and am currently dealing with some rather serious pain in my legs. Past wounds, you know. Would you be offended if I asked for your assistance in bathing?" You blush a little, but a part of you knows he won't try anything. You have noticed he seems to be limping a little more than usual, his mobility decreasing. Plus, you can tell he's only asking because he must, as the look of utter shame on his face suggests this is the last thing he wished to ask of you. "Of course, sir." His breath hitches, but he nods. As he begins to remove his more civilian garb, as he did not wear his uniform on this day, you try to avert your gaze. Still, you catch a glimpse of his pronounced muscles, littered with the occasional scar or blemish. You swallow heavily.
He slides down into the tub, his tensed muscles visibly relaxing as he lets out a groan. "Hmm..." He glances at you. "It's okay to look now, my dear. Sorry to have upset you." You shake your head, as if to assure him that you aren't bothered. He looks at you softly as you go to grab a sponge, a small part of him disappointed that you won't be using your bare hands to lather soap onto him. He shakes this thought off quickly. 'Shame on you!' He scolds himself 'Thinking such thoughts about your sweet servant girl. God, I'm acting like a recruit visiting his first whorehouse'. He is disappointed in himself, but tries to rationalize it by being innocent. Perhaps he just wanted to feel your hands on him, for comfort, for something different. One of the things he likes most about you is your hands. He noticed them when you first were sent to his mansion, much more timid then. You shook his hand, and his large, calloused and veiny hands, rough from years of labor and fighting, practically trembled at the feeling of your soft ones. As he grew to know you better, he would watch as you worked, your delicate hands dusting a vase or folding a sheet. He quickly decided any hard labor around his home be delegated to cadets and privates, when they would make the occasional visit, and sometimes as a disciplinary action. He wanted to keep your hands like you, soft and warm.
"Sir?" Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "Uh- Yes?" He stammers, readjusting his glasses (which oddly enough he always kept on for bath time.). "I was wondering... if I may take a bath sometime soon?" You ask timidly, causing him to frown. "Have you not been able to take one?" He asks. He doesn't remember ever giving such a command, and he would never deny your basic needs. "Well, one of the privates told me that the recruits shower schedule is twice a week, and that I should probably adhere to that at your house." You explain. Fritz grimaces. Of course some recruit would find it funny to torment the General's beloved servant. The soldiers where allowed two showers a week, but you were no soldier. You were a servant. His Servant. His.
"No, my dear, you may bathe whenever you see fit, that rule only applies to my soldiers of low rank. I imagine that young recruit may have been trying to have a laugh at your expense." He huffs. "Please, if you ever see him at the estate again, alert me to him, alright?" You nod, a little put off. You've never seen Fritz truly mad at one of his soldiers, he doesn't even get grumpy often, but now... he's scowling, as if that cadet had come right up to him, spit on his boots, and insulted his mother.
His eyes suddenly flash with a different emotion, as a thought crosses his mind. He bites his lips, trying to keep away the thought, but it's too tempting. "Perhaps..." His hand grips the porcelain edge of the tub. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to bathe me properly, if you were closer." He mumbles, avoiding eye contact. You tilt your head. "What do you mean, sir?" You ask naively. "Well, I just think, you could get a better position to clean me if you were to join me, i-in this bath, I mean." You blush wildly, and he begins to stammer, coming up with reasons it's a good idea. "For one, it would help you to apply the pain balm to my leg, and-" He's out of breath. "And taking a bath now, together, would ensure you are free later if I should need you." He risks a glance up at your face, feeling his turn red to match your own. You swallow. "I... I suppose that would be okay, sir." You mumble. You can't imagine he would hurt you, or try to take advantage of you. If that were the case, you imagine he would have had his way with you already. Besides, you can't deny how you failed to avoid looking at him when his disrobed before his bath. "Just, look away while I undress, please." You say, beginning to undo the corset of your servants attire. "Of course, anything to protect a ladies modesty." He says, quickly using his free hand to shield his eyes.
You slip into the bath water, and he looks up as he hears the water splash upon your entrance. You both remain silent, and you bathe him gently. He holds back sighs of pleasure, as you have forgone the sponge, and now use your bare hands as he had dreamed of moments ago. "Sir?" you break the silence. He lets out a "Hmm?" In response, eyes still closed in satisfaction. "May I ask, why do you never let me go into town? I wish to see my family, and the bakery." You ask. He seems to tense a little, the veins in his arm more prominent. "Because I simply don't have the time to venture there with you right now." He explains. "Yes, but I grew up there! I'm fine to go by my own." You say, a little annoyed he seems to think you're some helpless maid. He lets out a long exhale, before sitting up a little. Even like this in the bath, he towers over you. "It's not you I'm worried about, little one. I'm sure in town, before me and my men arrived, you could hold your own. But you couldn't against my soldiers, and-" He hesitates to tell you this, a part of him not wanting to scare you. "I don't trust half of them around a sweet thing like you." He sighs. You furrow your brows, your face upset. "You mean, like?" You can't bring yourself to say it. He nods. "I prevent it in every way I can, for all women. I do not allow it, but I cannot be everywhere, and the leaders above me do not permit me to dismiss a single man for a transgression like that. We need all the men you can get for the war." He makes a bold move, to cup your cheek. "But, rest assured, I won't let a single one of them lay hands on you. I just fear something could happen outside of my estate, that I could not control." You gulp at the notion, and nod. He sees the sorrow on your face, and strokes your cheek once more. "I will try to take a small holiday, a day or two perhaps, and I will take you to see them, alright?" He feels his heart speed up when he sees the light return to your eyes.
"Oh! Thank you, sir!" You look as if you could cry. He smiles and nods. "I, I must confess, I hope to go sooner rather than alter, I had wished to speak to your father." He says. "About what?" You feel a little fear knaw at you, and you gasp. "Wait, sir, no! He's much to old to fight, and-" Fritz cuts you off with both hands on your shoulder. "No, my dear, no. I'm not going to draft your poor father, do not worry. I would not want to do anything that would worry you so much." He coos, then avoids eye contact again. "I had wished to speak to him. The last time we spoke, we made a deal that you were to work for me as a servant girl, but..." You nod for him to continue. "I have found that house chores and labor do not suit you." You frown at his words. Had you not been doing a good enough job. "I'm sorry, sir, if I've not been performing well, please don't fire me. My family needs the money." He seems shocked once again, and laughs awkwardly. "God, I do seem to be bad at saying what I mean, don't I?" He shakes his head. "I mean that I think such things are below you. I... I should like to take you as my bride, if you and he should permit it." Your eyes widen. You hadn't expected that. What would he have you do as his bride? He senses your nervousness, and continues. "I assure you, it can have as much or as little intimacy as you wish. You needn't even act as a proper wife to me, I just-" He seems to be struggling to explain. "I just want you to be safe, and comfortable, a-as you have made me feel since you began to serve me." You feel your heart flutter at his words. "Since you arrived, you've been so sweet. Doting on me, caring for me, helping me with the daily crosswords." You laugh a little, and he smiles. "I want nothing more than to ensure that I get to enjoy that everday, and more importantly," a slightly darker tone ebbs its way into his voice. "I want to ensure that no other man does." You're a bit put off by the shift, but only nod.
"I should like to, sir." His head snaps up, his mouth hanging open slightly. "I'll admit, I always wanted to live in a fancy house like this, and the company isn't half bad either." You admit, shyly looking up at him. He is elated, his form almost trembling. "Do you mean it? Truly? You wish to accept my proposal?" He gasps. You nod. He lunges forward to hug you, causing the water to surge forward, but stops just short of you, remembering your nude form rests below the soapy water, as does his. "Ah, um." He coughs awkwardly. "I must ask, if we are to marry, and you do enjoy my company, would you be okay with the typically romantic things? I know people usually court first, but seeing as we've spent all this time together already." He says. You think. "Like kissing, and holding each other?" You ask. "Yes, like that sort of thing." He affirms. You nod. "I'm fine with trying it, but I need to tell you something." He nods for you to go on.
"I'm sure you know, we are a little reserved and conservative in our town. As a traveling man, and a general, I'm sure you have had your share of, um, intimate encounters. I was always told to wait, however, and I may not be what you are used to." You look at the water, trying to fight the insecurity gnawing at your heart. He only shakes his head quickly. "No, no, my darling girl! How could you ever be anything but perfect to me?" He asks, caressing your shoulder blade with his thumb. "I would be honored, if you would have me, to teach you about the more, intimate affairs of marriage and courting." He says. "I must admit, I'm afraid that I wouldn't be enough to satisfy you as a man, or a husband." He confesses. You gasp, and cup his face. "Why, sir?" You implore him to confide in you. "My dear, you are a mere twenty-three years of age, and I am forty-two. I'm practically twice your age. Besides being an old man, you had to help me with this blasted leg into the tub. I'm practically a cripple..." His insecurities begin to flow out as he confesses. You gently tuck your head against his shoulder. "No, sir. You are enough for me. You are a general, and a kind man. You have always treated me with respect. If I didn't think you were enough, I wouldn't have said yes to marrying you, would I?" He nods reluctantly. "No, you wouldn't have. You've always been a smart girl." He admits. "I'm willing to learn, as long as you show me, sir." You whisper.
He blushes, but takes this as a sign. "Well, seeing as we are due to wed, I don't see the harm in teaching you a few things now..." He says, pushing forward a little so your smaller frame is up against the slanted back wall of the tub. "Are you alright with this, you may tell me at any time if you want to stop." He says. You nod. "Words, my dear, please. I want to hear that you understand." He pushes. "I understand, sir." You say. He shakes his head as he plans a kiss on your forehead. "Call me Fritz, my little bride." He coos. "And since you are to be my bride, I hope you won't mind showing me what's been hiding under that uniform I gave you?" He asks. You blush, but slide a little further up the tub, parting your thighs just a touch, so he can see the bush of hair between them. "I haven't shaved, sorry." You say, a little embarrassed. He only chuckles, and shakes his head. "My dear, I've gone months without a shower, and shared a restroom and barrack with 27 other men. A little hair won't scare me off." He looks longingly. "Besides, it's what's under it I'm interested in." His hand suddenly comes to your inner thigh, the sensitive touch making you gasp. You've never been touched up there, much less by a man so strong. One of his large, calloused fingers comes to part your lips, exposing to your future husband your dripping, virgin holes. He lets out a wanton sigh at the sight.
"So beautiful, and untouched?" He asks. You gulp, and nod. "It is my honor to be the first and last man to pleasure your sweet little sex." He says. He traces that finger up and down you're folds, making sure you are properly teased, and getting a feel for you. "So wet, and not just from the bathwater, it seems." He whispers. "Is this how you planned to lose your purity? To a man twice your age, and an invading military officer, no less?" You blush in shame. "I didn't think of the specifics, just... just wanted you to have it, sir..." You whine. His grins grows, and he lets out a groan as he latches his lips to your neck. He licks and kisses up and down your neck, until he finds a spot that makes you let out a beautiful whine, causing him to nip at it. "Do you think your father would be less likely to accept my proposal if he noticed you covered in marks of love from me?" Fritz asks, and you only giggle a little. He finger wanders up to touch the pearl of your sex, making you gasp. "Oh, Fritz... what are you doing?" You ask. "Just finding your pearl, my dear. I want you to cum at least once before I take your virginity. I want to please you, my darling girl." He kisses your cheek, before he presses another finger against your pearl. He rubs in soft, slow circles, trying a few different angles before he finds one that pleases you, which he discerns from the moans you let out. "Fritz, mm-" You moan. You can feel a slow heat spreading, as something in you builds. "Please, a little faster?" You ask. He tuts, and looks at you. "Can't you be patient?" He teases. "No, wanna finish..." You mumble. "Want you in me, I-I wanna be your little wife." He almost chokes at your pleas, the words going straight to his cock. He didn't think you could arouse him even further, but you always did exceed his expectations. He quickens the pace, and you can feel your orgasm approaching. "Yes, Fritz, Yes. Please, make me cum." You beg. "You want to cum, cum so I'll put my manhood into you? Want me to make you a proper little wife for me?" He edges you, and as you nod and agree profusely, you feel that wave wash over you. Your pussy convulses around nothing, as you let out a whine that sounds like music to him. This beats his visits to the royal opera a hundred times over.
As you pant, coming down from your high, Fritz holds you in your place, rising a little out of the water himself. You blush, as his erect manhood becomes visible. He's well groomed, and while the tip isn't pronounced, there's a curve to it that makes your mouth water. "Well, do I seem up to your standards, my love?" He asks. "More than that, Fritz. You're so pretty..." While it seems like nothing to you, these words strike him hard. He's never been called pretty before, and hearing it from your soft lips wipes the lewd grin off his face, replacing it with momentary shock. He pulls himself to you, his chapped lips colliding with your soft ones. You squeak, but melt into it. He tastes like earl grey tea and the occasional cigars he would smoke, but only when stressed. You both gasp as he pulls away, needing air. He places many small kisses on your face, making you smile as you look up at him. "My sweet, sweet girl. Always so kind to this old man..." He murmurs. As he does, he rolls his hips forward a little, allowing the underside of his manhood to rub against the length of your sex. "I'm going to be gentle, alright? It might hurt a little, especially with me being quite a bit larger than you. But I promise to take it at your pace, alright?" He asks, his hands resting gently on your waist. You nod, and feel his hard tip prod a few times at your aroused pearl, before moving down to line up with your entrance. He warns you a little, before gently pushing the tip in. You wince, and he continues to soothingly rub your waist with his thumbs. He moves himself out, then rolls his hips back in, a little deeper with each thrust. It hurts, but the relaxing warm water helps, and it's not as bad as you thought it would be. "Feels okay, darling?" He asks. "Yes..." You respond, focusing on the feeling of him inside you. As he continues, the pain subsides, and he begins to quicken the pace when he tells you this.
"God, Fritz. You're big, s-so big..." You moan, his hips causing your ass to bounce back and forth off the wall of the tub. "I' feel 'mazing." He huffs. "So tight, and warm. My girl, letting me take you like this, getting you ready for our wedding night." He feels himself harden even further at the thought. "Y'know, I think it'd be a shame not to share how sweet you are, how caring." He says, his hips now pounding at your cervix. "W-what?" You ask. He had made it clear earlier he didn't want to share, so despite the pleasure you are confused. "Saying you'll make a good wife, but I think you'd make a better mother." He moans. You gasp at the thought. "All swollen with my baby, my child. Letting me care for you for once, instead of helping me walk cause of my leg, I'd get to help you around..." He thrusts grow more erratic at the idea, and you feel yourself about to climax once more. "Let me, my love, please. Let me fill you with my seed, my children. Let your fiance make you a mommy..." He begs. Just as you shout an agreement, you feel yourself convulse around him, causing his breath to hitch. He groans. "God, gonna finish to now, going to give you my babies..." He shouts. You feel a warmth flood you, as he sprays hot, white ropes of cum into your womb. You both pant, taking quite some time to recover.
Being the strong man he is, he bounces back quite quickly, while you are so tired you can barely move. "I'm sorry, my love." He coos. "Perhaps I was a bit rough for your first time..." You shake your head. "Mmm, no. I-I felt good, just, I'm just tired." You yawn. He chuckles. He cleans himself, and you, before draining the tub. He grabs both of your clothes as he carries you past your servants quarters, and into his room. Helping you to redress in your undergarments, he lays you down. You sigh as your body melts into the luxury sheets. He sits beside you, gently stroking your face. "Get some rest, my little bride." He whispers, before departing back to his office. He heads to the front door, and picks up a letter dropped off from the courier. Inside the envelope is your father's response, from a proposal sent several days ago by Fritz. Once again, though this was his third and final time asking, your father once again denied your hand in marriage to Fritz, saying he would never marry his precious girl to an invader. Fritz grimaces, as he had not wanted it to come to this. Sighing, he writes two more letters in response. One to your father, stating his intent to take your hand either way, and another to his second-in-command, ordering a man to be jailed for treason and defying military orders. The first letter reads as follows.
Dear sir,
As you are well aware, this is the third time you have rejected to allow me to take your daughters hand in marriage. While i understand your hesitation, I do what I do only to provide her a safe, comfortable life, which I do not believe you could have provided her, in your town which my men overtook in merely three hours. I could not imagine if a man worse than I had set his sights on her instead. Rest assured, that in light of your soon-to-be imprisonment, I will care for her. She has developed a reciprocation of my feelings, and despite your refusal to wed her to me, as I write this she lays in my bed, beginning to bear my child. I wish that you had been understanding, and done what was best for your daughter. Now, she will marry happily, but have no father, and the blame lies only on you.
-Fritz, General of the Northern King's forces.
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
Gojo's wife going berserk in order to protect her students
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 1,7k
Synopsis: Like your bad feeling already suggested, especially Toge's and Yuji's lives hang on a threat when their mission doesn't go as planned. Good for them that Gojo's wife and their teacher rushes to their side and shows everyone just how much she cares about them.
Warnings: language, violence (lol), again, (y/n) is a badass in this one
You can find Part l of that fic here
Your foot tabs against the metal of the chair, eyes swaying back and forth between the clock and door. It’s been way too long. Way too long for your students to be gone, way too long for them to arrive in safety.
It’s not like you didn’t have a bad feeling from the start. When your husband told you about the mission in an abandoned mall with only one grade 1 curse to defeat, you simply couldn’t believe it at first.
“Don’t worry about it, Gojo-sensei! Toge and I have everything under control!”
“Salmon”, Toge added with a friendly grin.
 You hated to let them go on their own. But after all, it’s not a secret how skilled your students are, their abilities might even surpass your own in a few years. Why would you have to be worry?
“Hey, still sitting here, handsome?”
A weak smile forms itself on your lips when none other than your husband sits down next to you and begins to draw small circles on your sensitive back.
“You’re worrying way too much babe, I’m sure both of them are fine. After all, Toge is with Yuji and proved often enough that he’s able to fulfil missions on his own.”
Deep down, you know that your husband is right, that you probably worry about nothing. But still, that bad feeling in your guts…
“Are you sure this was a grade 2 curse? Maybe the elders lied about that as well…”, you grumble, memories of your last encounter flooding your mind.
Would they really be so stupid as to pass you over again? You thought you made your point of view very clear when you threatened a whole room of elders back then…
“Nothing else was reported and the extent of destruction wasn’t bad enough for anything stronger than a grade 2 curse. Hey, look at me.”
Gently, your husband cups your face with both hands, staring at you intensely with his bright blue orbs.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, okay? You trained them so well, just relax a bit”, he purrs against your lips.
Your heart pounds against your ribcage in an instant, the way he looks down at you making your mouth water. How is it even possible for a human being to look this delicious?
“Maybe you’ll be able to distract me”, you mutter, arms wrapping themselves around your husband’s neck.
Oh, the way he presses his warm body against your aching one makes your crotch throb and breath hitch. Despite the fact that you are married for over 5 years by now, he sweeps you off your feet like on day one.
“I wonder what you wear underneath that uniform today…”
“(y/n), you need to-“
Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in pure horror while he desperately tries to shove Panda and Maki out of the room.
“What are you doing here?”, you breathe out in utter surprise, cheeks still hot and pink by the way your husband touched you just seconds ago.
Oh god, this is so uncomfortable. Especially Megumi is like your very own child since Satoru decided to raise him. And the disgusted face Maki makes…
“Get yourself together Fushiguro”, she hisses while clearing her throat.
“Ijichi informed us about the fact that something seems to be off regarding Itadori’s and Inumaki’s mission. He couldn’t reach you himself, so he sent us to let you know you should support them.”
“Well, at least now we know why she didn’t answer her phone…”
“SHUT UP PANDA, THIS IS SERIOUS!”
Your heart nearly stops, all the desire you felt just moments ago dies in an instant. Did you hear that correctly? Something seems to be off? You’ve had a bad feeling about this right from the start, didn’t want both of them to go on their own. And now…
Now their lives might be in serious danger.
“I’m leaving right now”, you reply in an instant, already on your way to the door when your husband grabs your hand.
“Wait, we don’t even know what’s going on. Normally I’m the one who jumps into conclusions.”
“They are my students and it is my responsibility to make sure they’re safe, Satoru. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror tomorrow if I let them down now. Yuji is still in his first year and unexperienced when it comes to fighting. And while Toge is very skilled and thoughtful, even his abilities have their limits. I’ll do whatever I can to protect them if I have the chance.”
With a small smile he lets go of you, looking after your confident walk out. Oh, whatever is responsible for that mess will definitely pay for it.
-at the curtain-
“I came as fast as I could. What is the problem?”, you ask Ijichi the minute you get out of the car.
“Even though I’m not entirely sure, there might be the possibility that another curse appeared within the curtain…”, he slowly begins.
That fearful look on his face paired with the sweat on his forehead…No, this isn’t a speculation. Another curse appeared in there for sure.
“Who was responsible for investigating here before? How careless”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Ijichi swallows hard. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favourite back at Jujutsu High. But when it comes to your students, you change drastically. Your eyes harden, usual so kind face turning stone cold. You shove what looks like an asthma spray into your pocket.
“Whatever, this is not the right time to search for whoever screwed up. My students need me.”
With fast and confident steps, you walk through the curtain with ease.
 Only to be greeted by pure chaos.
Only to be greeted by Toge, who lays in front of you unconscious.
Fuck. Your heart hammers against your chest, hands clenching into fists in an instant. No, this wasn’t a grade 2 curse. This has to be something bigger, something that shouldn’t be here.
“Gojo-sensei!”, Yuji screams on top of his lungs while being chased by a grotesque creature.
You can tell by one look that this is a grade 1 – strong, but not unbeatable especially for both boys. So what caused this chaos? What is going on here?
Without thinking twice, you sprint towards the pink-haired boy, crushing the curse behind him with your bare fist.
“Yuji, are you alright? Did you get hurt? What happened to Toge?”
You scan his body for visible injuries, a wave of relief washing over you when all you are able to detect are a few bruises and scratches.
“There…There…Are…So…Much…M-more…”
He can’t catch his breath, completely exhausted by the fight that has to be on for hours by now.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here now. Would you please hurry to Toge and give him this medicine? I will take care of whatever is left here”, you ensure him gently, your hand running up and down his back.
“Gojo-sensei, watch out!”
Just in time, you position yourself in front of Yuji. Just before he gets hit by the merciless attack of another curse, just before a whole wave of monsters rushes towards you.
“Do what I told you. I have your back.”
And again, you dash forward. These fuckers have some nerves, injuring both of your students so badly. Why are they here? How was it even able for them to stay in the shadows with no one noticing their presence?
“You have some nerve”, you hiss towards them.
“Hurting two of my students. I’ll make you regret even existing.”
Slash after slash, fist after fist you tear them to the ground, body almost swallowed by purple blood that soaks through your uniform without mercy. No one is able to hurt your precious students without paying for it. No curse, no elders, no jujutsu sorcerer.
“Are you here to protect those boys? Pathetic, all of you will die right here”, a distorted voice behind you barks.
“I’m here to kill everyone who gets in my way. Especially fuckers like you.”
You sprint forward, sight completely numbed by the thick rage that runs through your veins. The way your fists fly through the air at neck-breaking speed leaves Yuji speechless next to Toge’s unconscious body, eyes not even able to follow your rapid movements. He has never seen you like this, so full of fury with your face distorted by hatred. Of course, it was never a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you are strong, rumours saying you even threatened the elders for your student’s sake. But at this very moment, you look almost possessed, slaughtering curse after curse until nothing except for purple rain is left of them.
“Hey, are you okay?”, you request towards Yuji softly, your hand placed on his shoulder.
There you are again, the (y/n) he knows and admires, the kind woman everyone at Jujutsu High talks so highly about. The only thing revealing what you did earlier being the purple blood still sticking to your whole body. Otherwise, your face looks as flawless as ever, eyes gleaming in kindness while you inspect Toge’s body.
“It seems like he’s worn-out, but otherwise fine. Did he take his throat medicine? His cursed speech demands a lot from him and sometimes, Toge seems to be unable to assess his own situation.”
Yuji just stares at you shamelessly, how you caress Toge’s cheek with as much care as usual. Was that really you who just slaughtered at least 50 curses within the span of a few minutes? Was it really you who spoke to one of the curses earlier with your voice frightening cold?
“Is something wrong, Yuji?”
“It’s just…I’ve never seen you like this, Gojo-sensei. You were so badass”, the boy next to you breathes out.
“Let me tell you something: No one on this earth is able to hurt my students without backlash. Whoever hurts any of you will get hurt by me. Or killed.”
“Gojo-sensei is really lucky to have a wife like you”, Yuji suddenly blurts out.
You can’t help but giggle, carefully lifting Toge’s numb body off the ground and through the disappearing curse.
“Oh, please tell him exactly that when we’re back.”
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @yoonseokerist @suyaaachin @arehzhera @v3-mewcat @dlwlrmas-world @madebyperfectaddiction
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t1red-twilight · 24 days
Text
1.5 pints
summary: you get injured on a case and spencer is…worried to say the least.
warnings/content: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, medically inaccurate (i googled stuff but idk), spencer has ptsd, reader is implied to maybe have ptsd, cannon typical violence/injury (bullet wound), reader has self destructive traits, spencer is worried and quite overbearing, non-sexual nudity, spencer passenger princess confirmed, idiots pining over each other, like a significant amount of pining, friends totally share a bed regularly, that’s so normal and platonic, reader is an unreliable narrator at times, lmk if i missed anything<3
word count: 1.4k
masterlist
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you had gotten injured after a case. it wasn’t anything serious, you had just gotten grazed by a bullet on your upper arm on your dominant side. it stung like a bitch, and bled quite a bit, but it wasn’t anything to cry over. even still, you were bandaged by paramedics before being sent on your way.
the case hadn’t been far from quantico, just a forty-five minute drive or so. spencer had silently insisted on sitting next to you in the suv. the air was awkward. not uncomfortable, per se, it was just that everyone in the car could feel that spencer was definitely upset.
once back at quantico, everyone split up to go to their homes. hotch informed everyone that you would all have the next day off. you searched through your go-bag for your car keys, when you suddenly felt a presence behind you.
spencer’s natural scent of linen and citrus would always be familiar to you. you’d recognize it anywhere. “hey spence.”
“how’d you know it was me?”
you turned around, shrugging. “lucky guess,” you smiled a lopsided smile. there was a momentary pause.
“is your arm okay?”
chuckling lightly, you shifted your weight onto one foot. “yeah, i’m alright. do you need anything?”
he was avoiding eye contact more than usual. “i think you should come over to my place tonight.”
you quirked an eyebrow. there was this unspoken arrangement the two of you had; you’d switch off spending the night at each other’s apartments. it had started when spencer began having ptsd-fueled nightmares again and you had recurring bouts of insomnia. and this consisted of sleeping in the same bed, to comfort each other.
“yeah?” there was an overwhelming feeling that he was more upset than he was leading on, and this was even more evident considering his behavior on the ride back to quantico.
“…yeah. i just want to make sure you’re okay.”
you snorted. “of course you do, spencer.” he finally looked up and resumed eye contact.
“what do you mean?”
“i don’t mean anything.” you twirled your keys around your finger, chuckling lightly at the thought of spencer being caught up in what was to you, a very minuscule injury. gesturing to your car, you add on, “well, we should get going then.”
he walked around to the driver’s side of the car and motioned for your keys. spencer wasn’t very keen on driving; he much preferred his passenger princess privileges and tendencies. confusion and minor amusement flooded your features. “you want to drive?”
“uh, yeah. you shouldn’t be lifting your arm, it could tear your stitches.” the sass in his tone almost made you double take.
“hey, i think i’ll be fine, okay? you don’t have to worry about me because i got scratched.” your tone was more genuine but still held a playful element. he sighs and looks a little incredulous.
“just let me drive. please.” taken aback, you hand over the keys and walk over to the passenger side. you raise your dominant arm to open the door. spencer quickly rushes over to open the door for you. “please don’t.”
“uh, okay,” you reply in a quieter voice. as you buckle your seatbelt, spencer gets into the drivers side seat. he somehow finds a classical station on the radio (it’s not all too surprising that he probably has them memorized), and the rest of the ride goes on without a hitch or bump.
when you arrive at his apartment, spencer runs to your side of the car. he opens your door for you, and helps you out of the car. “you don’t have to baby me, spence.” he mumbles out a response. “what?” you question back.
“can you please take this seriously?” your eyes widen at his more stern timbre. a semi-sarcastic thumbs up is all you give him.
the walk up to his apartment is exceedingly more tense. you try to focus more in the scent of the old building rather than spencer’s apparent disappointment in you. the building smells like, well, old building, and the floor creaks fifteen times on the way to the elevator and to his front door.
you both cross the threshold and he sets his crossbody bag down near the entryway. you didn’t bring up your go bag, as you have plenty of things at his apartment already.
he grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom. he proceeds to hand you some pajamas: an old mit shirt and soft shorts that you left prior. you wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. “are you going to let me change?” he looks at you exasperatedly.
“you can’t move your arm.”
“yes. i can.”
“you can, but you shouldn’t. please let me help you.” you just about roll your eyes, but you stop yourself.
“i can undress myself. i just got grazed.” you’re getting more annoyed.
“grazed? you almost fell over from the blood loss. morgan had to hold you up. the average human body has around ten pints of blood and you lost one and a half- that’s 15%. that’s not a graze-“
your eyebrows raise. he was taking this very seriously. “the bullet didn’t penetrate. i didn’t need a transfusion, and it was by no means fatal in any way.” injuries like this have occurred before on the team, and the team has recovered.
“yes, but if you lost 5% more blood, you might have lost consciousness and needed a transfusion. can you please take this seriously?”
surprisingly, you didn’t respond immediately. spencer, and everyone for that matter, had known you to be quite stubborn and not known to back down.
“you got shot. you should be taking this more seriously.”
“you could barely even consider it a shot, spencer. besides, it’s better me than anyone else.”
his eyes widen. “how can you be so reckless?” you don’t respond at all this time. you just look down at the clothes in your hands.
“please,” he quietly says your name, “you just really mean a lot to me. i don’t want anything to happen to you.”
if your eyebrows weren’t high before, they sure as hell were now. “can you promise me? that you’ll take your health into consideration more? i have no clue what i’d- what the team would do without you.”
his slip-up does not go unnoticed. “okay.” you swallow your pride. “i will.”
he sighs in relief. “now please, let help you.” his eyes glance up from the floor to meet yours. you nod and he steps closer. both of your movements are awkward as he places his hands on the buttons of your shirt. he unbuttons it quite slowly, and pulls it down your arms.
he’d seen you in more compromising situations before, so this is nothing new. “put your arms out, but not up, please.” he then proceeds to put his old college alumni shirt over your arms first before pulling it over your head. “i think, you can, uh, put the shorts on yourself. just don’t lift your arms too high.”
“i won’t. i promise.” you give what you think is a convincing smile and he leaves to the bathroom.
when he returns, he is also dressed for bed. he guides you to the bathroom to brush your teeth. he babies you as much as is physically possible, but you draw the line at him brushing your teeth for you.
“dude. i’ll be careful. i’ll just use my other arm.” the task proves to be weird and uncoordinated.
you both finish brushing your teeth at about the same time. you follow him to the bedroom.
his feet pad across the carpet softly. the socks he’s wearing isn’t shocking to you at all; it’s a habit of his he’s gotten used to. he turns on his lamp on the side table, and turns out the big light.
he draws back the covers before you can, and you swing you legs onto the bed. you pull the covers up to your chin before he can tuck you in or something. one can only handle being babied for so long, after all.
he has one of those fancy dimming lamps. it casts a soft glow over the room without being too overwhelming. and because he likes it this way, so do you.
he turns onto his side and places his hands under his pillow. you begin to turn onto your side, but he stops you. “don’t put too much pressure on it.” you compromise by turning your head towards him.
his eyes are big and his lips are slightly parted. his breathing is deep and slow. you don’t know who falls asleep first, just that you both slowly inched closer so that eventually there was only about two fingers worth of space between you.
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luveline · 7 months
Note
I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.
maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out
ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 
cw criminal minds typical gun violence
Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 
The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 
In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 
You'd like to keep it that way. 
It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 
Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 
It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 
You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 
It's deep but small. A nick. 
The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 
You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 
He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 
He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 
"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 
"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 
"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 
You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 
"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 
"You want to tell me, right?" 
"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 
"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 
"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."
Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 
"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 
"What were you doing up?" 
"That's my business," Morgan says. 
Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 
Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 
Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 
"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 
"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 
Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 
"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 
She gawps. 
Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 
You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 
"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 
"Yes sir." 
Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 
Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 
"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 
"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 
"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 
Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 
"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 
Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 
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vxnuslogy · 2 months
Text
— a reason. ft aventurine
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— warnings: slight cursing and violence and spoilers for the new hsr quest
— author's note: this is very long and very much a giant word vomit. first work in hsr is aventurine, i fear favoritism is real.
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‘everything happens for a reason.’
aventurine has never felt so sick and tired of that phrase. something about it makes his fists clench from beneath the table and stomach flip and twist uncomfortably from within.
if everything happens for a reason, then what was the reason behind his clan’s massacre? what was the reason for the stirring in his guts whenever he looked in the mirror? what was the reason behind all of his fortune now turned to misfortune?
aventurine hated not knowing the reason.
“and this pretty thing,” jade motioned towards you by her side. standing motionless, back straight and all. “is [name]. be sure to play nice, aventurine.”
what was the reason behind your new recruitment? better yet, why were you placed as his new assistant? the last time aventurine checked, he was doing perfectly fine. steadily climbing up his rank with his risky gambles and bargaining skills. he couldn't wrap his head around it so he just sighed and accepted it.
“thank you for always looking after me, jade.” his voice carried evident sarcasm but the woman only smiled and pushed you towards his direction. he had to physically stop himself from recoiling from the action and gave you a smile.
“it's a pleasure to meet you, [name].” he held his hand out for you to take. you were hesitating, aventurine noticed. but after a few seconds you slowly slid your hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “the pleasure is all mine, mr. aventurine.”
the blonde man held onto your hand for a moment longer before slipping it away and tucking it behind his back. he surveyed your form making you want to squirm under such a gaze, and he noticed.
“let's be good friends.”
working with aventurine was strange, not that you didn't expect it. you spent the past six months running around the IPC from one office to another carrying mountains of papers and constantly picking up calls from the communication device in your ear. other times, you'll be out and about trailing aventurine like a lost duckling when you need to accompany him to missions that require him to be physically present.
honestly, working for the stoneheart will eventually give you an early death from a heart attack. not only is his risky gambling habits very concerning, his way of speaking wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea. more often than not you’re needed to play as a peacemaker, the middle ground of negotiations to prevent any physical fights from starting.
but it wasn't as bad as you'd assume. you clock in around 9 in the morning and clock out at 5 in the afternoon. sometimes if certain tasks require you for overtime, you'll clock out at around 8 or 9 at night max. all the work aventurine assigns to you aren't all that difficult to handle as well. just simple reports that need to be proofread so he won't have to read over them multiple times, scheduling interviews, picking up calls and informing him of his new missions, and if the situation calls for it, you play as a spy to gather information.
overall aventurine was a good boss.
today was like any other tuesday morning. you clock in just before 9, get your coffee and another cup for your boss, pick up the last reports from the strategic investment department, and then make your way into aventurine’s office to brief him on his schedule.
his office was on the fancier ends, no surprise there as he was one of the ten stonehearts. your shoes clicking when they met the marbled floors, your eyes skimmed through the reports, trying to guess which proposal will be approved or disapproved. when you reached a familiar door, you fixed your hair and readjusted the insignia pinned to your vest. an aventurine stone, just like your boss.
you knock thrice -short, short and long- before you hear a muffled voice tell you to come in.
“good morning, mr. aventurine.” you greet with a slight bow as normal. “as punctual as ever, [name].” raising your head you nod towards topaz’s direction in acknowledgment before making your way to his desk. “here are all the reports from the last mission. i’ve read through all of them and made sure everything is in order.” placing the papers on the table, he dropped the ones in his current hand before taking the new ones, all the while, you place down his coffee which he gladly took.
“you aren't overworking them, have you, aventurine?” topaz inquired, crossing both her arms over her chest. “what kind of boss do you take me for friend? a bad one? i can assure you my assistant is in good hands.” the blonde man chipped in, his fingers flipping from one page to another as you busied yourself trying to organize the scattered reports on his table. feeling topaz's gaze, you give her a slight smile and nod, confirming that aventurine is in fact, was a good boss.
she just sighed and shook her head. motioning for you to come over, you look to aventurine who gave you a nod in turn. you walked towards topaz -feeling the searing stare of aventurine burn through the back of your head- as she took out a flash drive and handed it to you.
“this is the recording of the last meeting in regards to the mission you're tasked with. since you were still in pier port, we started without you.”
“how cruel of you, to start such an important meeting without even waiting for me.”
ah yes, the pier port incident. you smiled wearily as your shoulder slumped when you remembered what happened. you shake your head in amusement of the memory.
“thank you topaz,” you break the silence, like you always do. “i’ll be sure to look over it today.” she smiled at you in appreciation before turning her back on you and waving goodbye.
“well, that was all i came for. catch you two later.”
once the door clicked shut and the sounds of footsteps getting fainter and fainter, you took it as a sign to turn back to your boss who was already looking at you.
“is something the matter, sir?” you ask. he took off his glasses with a hum and turned his attention back to the papers he was reading. “be sure to give me a summarized report of the meeting before you go home.” you nod and take a seat on the couch in his office and boot up the laptop on the coffee table. you've always wondered when it suddenly appeared in his office, you were 98% sure it wasn't there when you first started working but aventurine always said that's it been there the entire time.
you shake the thought out of your mind and shift into work mode. hours seem to pass by in the blink of an eye before you heard aventurine call out to you. “i’m sorry mr. aventurine, i'm afraid i didn't hear you.” you heard him sigh and repeat his question. “i said, why did you join the IPC? actually, no, that's not what i want to know.”
when you looked up from the laptop in front of you, your boss had taken a seat across from you. you felt your heart thumping in nervousness.
“what exactly did you do to pique jade’s interest?”
frozen. you felt frozen on your spot. fingers stopping midway from pressing onto the keys. those beautiful eyes you've slowly grown accustomed to seeing unfiltered from his glasses, they make your heart and pulse beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.
“i come from a well-off family.” you start, suddenly feeling conscious of your background. “my parents have worked closely with the stonehearts, i suppose miss jade wanted to continue the diplomatic relationship between my family and the IPC.”
“is that the reason why you're here now?”
you simply nod even though you weren't so sure if that really was the reason.
“let me ask you another question.”
letting out a startled noise when the laptop in your lap suddenly close with a gloved hand sitting on top of it, you stare at aventurine's purple eyes that had rings of teal, something so uniquely him that you couldn't help but get lost in them. he took the laptop from your grasp and set it on the coffee table as he leaned both his arms on his legs.
“do you like working under me?”
the question caught you off guard and it showed with how the corner of aventurine’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. hiding behind a closed fist and clearing your throat, you pray that your voice wouldn't waver as you answer.
“i do.” you peaked towards his directions and he didn't seem satisfied with your answer so you list out all the reasons why you like working with him. “despite your… questionable habits, i’ve come to grow used to them as time goes on.” a fond smile made its way to your lips when you dug around your mind trying to find your memories that had aventurine in them, only to realize that he was in all of them.
“i’ve come to enjoy all your little shenanigans in missions.”
“i'll have you know, calling your boss’ plans “shenanigans” could lead to your bonus being cut by a few percent.” he huffed like a child as he decided to just sit back and cross his arms over his chest and raise his chin at you. you chuckle at the action and continue.
“ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to travel the cosmos. but since i’m the only child to my mother and father, my childhood, teenage years, and now adulthood is centered around business and trade. going out on missions with you to different planets, they heal that little part of me that wished to travel.”
“but sometimes, i truly believe that you want me to die from a heart attack.” you hear him snicker from under his breath as he fixes the watch on his wrist. “i know that as a gambler taking risks is just a part of it but aeons, do they scare me to death sometimes.”
“if i knew you cared about me so much, maybe i would tone it down a bit!” there was a playful undertone to his voice as he talked to you. you let out a laugh and shake your head. “no offense sir, but i sincerely doubt that.”
“you wouldn't be the boss i've grown accustomed to if you didn't do your risky gambles.”
something flickered in aventurine's eyes, you were sure of it. but before you could find out what it was he suddenly stood up, putting on his usual glasses and giving you a closed eyed smile.
“well, that was all what i wanted to ask you.” you wanted to ask something in return, but you never had the chance to even get a word out when he was already halfway out the door. “be sure to finish that summary before the day ends. leave it at my desk as usual.”
and just like that, the office door clicked shut.
“if i told you the reason, that'd be the same as revealing a trade secret.”
aventurine remembered jade's word. how could he not when they repeated in his mind like a broken record.
after he left his office, it felt like he suddenly went back in time. it just had been roughly a month after you were given the position as his assistant and aventurine wasted no moment at the end of that friday afternoon to dash in jade's office and ask her the question: why were you his assistant.
aventurine scoffed at jade's response while she only smiled. clicking his tongue in annoyance as the woman led him in circles when he kept asking. what was the reason? was it that hard to answer?
the next few days weren't necessarily the best. he was like a walking ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at any second. everyone in the IPC kept their distance from him -not like they didn't keep their distance to begin with, some started whispering among the hallways about his potential termination after a very big gamble he almost, almost, lost. what ticked him off the most, was you.
he felt so frustrated at you because why were you so damn perceptive. those past few days, the papers that were messily and hastily thrown on the giant table in his office were suddenly organized into neat piles, all held together with different colored paperclips and a sticky note of when each pile was due to be submitted. how every morning you wouldn't fail to knock thrice at his door -short, short and long- at exactly 3 minutes before 9 in the morning with two cups of coffee in your hands. or the times where you would take one good look at him and start lighting up the candles in his office that you started buying for him because you noticed he'd be slightly less stressed when the room didn't smell like fear and insecurity.
what he hated the most was even after his little temper tantrum the past few days began to subdue, you still continued your almost doting actions towards him.
when did he start anticipating your methodical knocks 3 minutes before 9? when did he suddenly grow disappointed whenever someone knocked on his door and it wasn't you? topaz had suddenly grown confused when he suddenly came into the meeting room with a cup of coffee in his hand and when she asked about it he would simply say, “well, my darling assistant bought it for me!”. the multiple scented candles in his office that burned too quickly so at the end of every month he'd have you go out and buy some more.
when did he start using his left hand -the hand he left bare from rings, the same hand that shook in fear of losing- to guide the small of your back away from the crowd whenever you would accompany him to missions?
when did he start taking off the glasses that hid the eyes he wanted to sell to someone else?
it was so confusing yet so simple at the same time. aventurine had grown fond of his little assistant. he has grown fond of you. and that was all there is to it. after all, why would he go out of his way to get that customized brooch that you wear every single day when you come to work if he hadn't. how his chest would swell with pride whenever you spoke with higher positioned officers in the IPC and how they would avert their gaze because of the pin on your vest.
and he knows that you know of his sudden change in demeanor. you just never say a word for his sake. how he went from being a distant and acquainted boss to a friend. an actual friend. and that was supposed to be it. he did say in your first meeting that you should be good friends, but how was he supposed to keep his words after the little stunt you pulled at pier port?
it was a simple mission, negotiate and get the upper hand, nothing more and certainly nothing less. like any other mission, he was accompanied by you and some other people under the IPC. everything was going smoothly until one of them just had to open their mouth and talk shit about his already dreadful past just because he had forgotten to put on his glasses. he truly has grown a bit too comfortable with you around, and he didn't like it.
“what's a sigonian scum like you doing in the IPC? why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?”
he just sighed. shaking his head, hiding his left hand behind his back, shielding it away from everyone's gaze as it shook with anger, disgust, and the tantalizing question of why.
why did he have to go through this?
and then you did something out of the ordinary.
the sweet assistant of aventurine suddenly pulled out the gun situated on your hip and pointed it directly to the man’s forehead, a deathly glimmer shining in your eyes as your index threateningly ghosted over the trigger.
“if you do not take back what you said just now, i won't hesitate to put a bullet or two in that empty skull of yours.”
then you started walking, and he started backing up. you didn't stop until the man was standing on the edge of the port, one simple push and he'd be drowned in the vast icy oceans. that is, if he wasn't already drowning in the fury of your eyes.
aventurine felt his body move in instinct. his left hand holding your wrist and slowly putting it down at your side. he gave a half assed apology about your behavior and ushered you to your original destination. this time, he kept his hand on your back, specifically near the gun on your hips to make sure you didn't point it at someone else.
“do they always speak to you that way?” you ask barely above whisper. eyes strained one the road you were walking one while his bore into your very being. “i’ve grown used to it. be sure to not point that gun of yours to any potential partners, m’kay?” to prove his point, he tapped the gun on your hips with his finger and you just sighed. a simple yes stumbling past your lips before being enveloped by silence.
aventurine was sure. he was very, very, sure that was the last nail in the coffin, and the answer to the question he's been asking.
the entire day, you stuck by his side. glued to the fucking hip and no one dared to utter a single word about him. the meeting went smoothly and when everyone was preparing to go home, he called you over and said:
“that stunt you pulled earlier, stays between us, alright, friend?”
and you simply nod in understanding.
you carry your bags onto the ship to take you back home only to be taken aback when aventurine comes to steal it away from your hands. “take it as thanks for earlier.” he remembered that look of shock before it turned into something else -what it was he didn't know because you turned away before he could even fathom what of it made his stomach do flips.
even when he came to drop off your things at your personal room, he found himself lingering by the door. watching you unpack your things as he stood idly. you would eventually turn to him and ask if he needed anything more, and out of curiosity he asked: “why did you point your gun at that man?” he will never forget the look of puzzlement on your face when he asked.
“because he said something unpleasant to you. as your assistant, i can't allow others to simply trample on your name.”
he spent the night staring up at the ceiling while laying on his bed. your words mingling in with jade's in his mind, trying to fit the two like puzzle pieces to ease the racing of his heart and uneasiness of his mind. he didn't like assuming things. a conjecture such as this would cost him too much, but tonight he indulged himself in the thought.
picking up his phone and messaging jade, he laid his forearm over his eyes and sighed.
“this room smells horrible…” he muttered. the strong scent of chlorine made his mind spin. making him miss the scented candles you had slowly but surely placed inside his office. he'd grown so fond of them that he'd bought some of his own to place around his home. “ah… i think i'm screwed.”
it has been approximately 3 system hours since you arrived in penacony, and roughly a few system hours before aventurine's eventual demise.
topaz had just finished speaking with the trailblazer and their companions. when they had left you stood next to her and stared at the giant prison turned hotel.
“you… don't seem too worried.” topaz said, you felt her gaze but you didn't turn to look at her, instead you just gazed into nothing. “it would be a lie if i said i wasn't worried.” you were most definitely worried, terrified even. no matter how many times aventurine does his high risk gambles, you will never get used to it, not when it causes ghostly hands to squeeze at your heart at the sheer thought of him losing. the thought of losing him.
“but i trust miss jade's judgment. i trust aventurine.”
roughly a day before his departure to penacony, curiosity got the best of you and you stuck around the meeting room in secret when aventurine stayed behind.
“what can i do for you, aventurine?” jade's voice slightly echoed in the empty room. your hands slightly shook in fear of being caught, but you were just so curious about what has been going on with your boss that you couldn't fight the urge to eavesdrop a bit. “oh nothing much. i take it you received my message?” you assumed the woman nodded because aventurine continued. “i must admit, your little plan worked. but is it really necessary?”
jade stood up from her seat, her heels clicked on the marble floor and aventurine followed her until they were by the door.
“well, it's better to stay safe than sorry. and besides, this doesn't count as a complaint, right?”
you heard him chuckle. somehow, even though you hid behind a pillar you felt his stare bore into your being. you could almost imagine those purple eyes that had rings of teal in them that made you weak in the knees.
“no, not necessarily. i could never consider it as a complaint.” he took a moment before asking another question. “but i want to hear it from you, friend. why did you assign [name] as my assistant?”
“it's rather simple really,” jade replied. “you need a reason to leave penacony alive, no? i simply made it easier for you.”
you? the reason for aventurine's will to live? it seemed rather silly. how you, a simple assistant, be so much of importance to someone like aventurine, but with how topaz came to hold the hand that gripped the brooch he had given you, you thought otherwise.
this half a year you've been working with him, you like to think that you've gotten to know him very well.
how when you stood beside him as he sat himself in another gamble, he would always lay his left hand on his lap, fingers curled into fists so tight you were afraid his palms were bleeding.
how he always hid his “weaker” hand behind his back in dire situations to hide his fear.
or when he would always take off his glasses in his office whenever you were there. and that laptop you were 98% sure wasn't there when you started working? aventurine apparently got it specifically for you so you could work in his office.
but what you were most sure of was:
“aventurine doesn't make deals he knows he won't benefit from. he'll win, he always does. he'll come back, i know it.”
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Reminder; Don't Forget
(Scrap)
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❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader
➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals
✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"
Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.
He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"
   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.
"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.
"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.
    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."
   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."
   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.
He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."
So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.
"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.
"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.
"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.
"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.
"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.
"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."
A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."
You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.
He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.
That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.
"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"
"No-"
"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.
     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"
    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."
   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.
   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.
     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.
Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.
When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"
   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.
He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.
He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."
"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.
Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."
You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.
    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.
He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.
Today is not one of those days, you realize.
You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."
He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.
He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.
His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.
He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-
    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."
"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."
A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"
The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.
"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.
The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—
"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.
   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-
   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.
     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.
  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.
   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.
The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.
And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.
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So confused again. Happy, but confused. Maybe a bit too many details about the....dynamic me n Mr. V have in here but I just gotta get the thoughts out somewhere.
He met up with Silk a couple of nights ago n since then has been...really good to me? The way he was before I fucked it up? I don't know why. I thought it'd be just another one of those quick ones to get him off n make sure he's still got me hooked, but he still hasn't gone back to bein mean again.
He's usin all the pet names he used to, too... It'd been so long. I guess he didn't wanna call me that when he was upset with me, but I'm finally his perfect little doll again. He keeps tellin me he loves that I was made for him n that I feel perfect. That I'm all his n he's gonna take care of me.
It feels so good but I still worry it's a trick n he's gonna get cruel again soon.
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