Untitled

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synopsis ೃ⁀➷ texts with Frat!Jo but you were a bet

characters ⋆ gojo

warnings ⋆ angst, bet, fem reader

Part 1 , Part 2

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your daughter’s first tooth fairy toru fairy visit 𝜗ৎ

“toru, you can’t be serious.”

it was times like these you questioned why you married satoru gojo. 

the white-haired, tall man stood in your dimly lit living room, wearing cheap party city fairy wings (probably from mango’s halloween costume two years ago), a small tiara atop his fluffy hair, a tutu over his sweats, and to top it all off, a golden star-shaped wand. 

“god help me…” you dragged a hand over your face. 

“there’s nothing wrong with my costume.”

“everything is wrong with it.” 

“maybe i’m just a good dad, one who actually cares about our daughters milestones enough to dress the part,” he huffed, straightening his tiara and giving your pajama a pointed once over.

“excuse me??” you laugh incredulously, “do you have something you want to say to me??”

“just said it, love.”

he was impossible. truly fucking impossible.

“whatever, explain what you're doing again.” 

your little mango had just turned five last month, and now the milestones of the last years of toddlerhood were showing up. she’d lost her first tooth yesterday, and of course the dramatic father, satoru, made sure it was memorable. 

Fandom: Love and Deep Space Ship: Sylus x Reader Rating: G wc: 960~ A/N: Shoutout to all my hyper independent girlies who refuse to let anyone take care of us but secretly wish they would push for it anyway ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

𑣲☾

Sylus already knows the mood you'll come home in. He knows the moment the clock passes 5pm that you'll be working late, mostly likely to deal with bullshit that has nothing to do with you. But nonetheless, you will handle it anyway. Flawlessly, by the way.

He loves that about you. Your independence, your motivation, your competence. All of it makes the loyalty woven into his soul even stronger.

But he also knows your secret.

The secret that beneath the finely pressed uniform, the sheer mastery in battle, and the absolute fury in the face of ignorance… You really just want a single place to feel safe enough to take a breath.

Sylus is happy to handle things at home. Even if that just means hiring someone for the cooking and cleaning considering he has his own business to attend to, but it is always worth it. Especially on the nights he hears the front door slam shut and the weight of your boots stomp up the stairs. He can feel the frustration radiating from your body from the other side of the door.

When it finally swings open, you stalk into the shared sanctuary, flop onto the lounge and snatch the boots off your feet before flinging them into the open closet.

"Long day, kitten?"

To anyone else, it would sound like Sylus was mocking or teasing you with the slow drawl in his tone. He doesn't bother to look up from the book in his hand and you don't bother to answer that question. Instead you launch into a deeply passionate rant about the asinine bureaucracy of the Hunter's Association.

"Why do I need to file 4 versions of the same report? They can't be copies either, they have to have different verbiage because they're going to different people with different purposes." You wave your hands wildly in the air, voice shrill and mocking as you stalk into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

The bathroom door remains open as you continue ranting. "It makes no fucking sense! I took this job to help Hunters not file shitty reports to managers that DONT EVEN READ THEM."

After a solid 15 minutes beneath the steaming hot cascade of water and the aroma of your favorite soaps turning suffocating, your ranting finally dies down. Sylus puts his book away as you emerge from the makeshift sauna wrapped in a towel and looking like a fresh prune.

The bed shifts as you flop onto the soft, pillowy comforter with a deep, existentially exhausted sigh. Your body aches and you hadn't even seen a wanderer today. The weight of ignorance and idiocy settles deep in your bones.

You groan in frustration, your voice nearly pained and eyes exasperated as you turn to him. "Sy, they don't even read the reports…"

"I know, kitten. Would you like me to take care of them for you?"

You hold back a laugh that escapes as an obnoxious snort. He can't make you laugh right now. You want to stay mad.

"I am all too familiar with corporate bureaucracy so I understand the mind numbing mundanity of it all." His voice is gentle and reassuring, but you aren't having it.

"Yeah, but at least you are the boss. I thought I would be gaining something, reputation, influence, anything. I barely even got a raise out of this promotion." The last word framed with bunny ears and a grimace.

Sylus chuckles. "Yes, but I still have to play the game sometimes."

Your anger has long ebbed away, pouring right down the drain but your muscles remain tense and your brow furrowed.

Sylus wordlessly lays down beside you, leaning in to kiss the wrinkle between your brows. As if his affection could will away your frustrations alone. "Why don't you take tomorrow off and relax. We can go to dinner too."

You frown and that wrinkle appears again. Sylus doesn't wait to kiss it away again with a knowing smile.

He knows you have a love/hate relationship with his money. You know he loves when he can spoil you, but there is always that hyper independent part of you that resists being pampered, even though you know you wholeheartedly deserve it.

You scoff, feigning annoyance as your face turns away. "You know I can't just sit around and relax, Sylus, that doesn't work for me."

Perfectly soft lips press against your cheek, beautiful nose nuzzling into your hair. "Come now, kitten. You know me better than that. Take the day off, take Callie and the black card, and enjoy your day. You work so hard. Do this for me."

His voice is a deep purr and his syrupy words settle right into the cracks of your armor. He mouths his way down your neck, teeth grazing your skin playfully as you pretend to consider his offer. He knows how much you loved that damn Corvette. Driving Callie was a treat that you reserve for special occasions, which you suppose impending burnout called for a treat.

"Well… I guess I do need a new dress for the party next weekend… And my nails are horrendous, right now… Fineeee." You grumble as you turn to face him, a knowing smile graces his lips as he watches you with red eyes dripping in adoration.

You were the one going on a shopping spree in a brand new car that hasn't even been released to the public, yet he looked as though he was the real winner here.

"Thank you for doing me this honor." Sylus whispers against your lips.

You laugh quietly as your fingers weave their way into his hair, closing what little gap remained between you.

:: ꒰ 　gσנσ ѕαтσяυ annoying you to high hell 　ꪒꪒ ۫ 　 sfw 　੭ ֹ

gojo has a bad habit of being annoying for fun, pressing the buttons of everyone around him just for the reaction. sometimes it's funny, those times are when it's not directed at you.

unfortunately though, today you are his target. it started earlier when he acted like he had something super secret to tell you. only for that super secret to be him leaning down and blowing in your ear. it made you cringe and shiver and also maybe smack at him a little bit.

your crush on him isn't helped when he does things like that, flushing in response and now ignoring him. the embarrassment you felt was mostly your fault because of your feelings but also his fault! how dare he get so close to you just to poke fun at your reaction. it's a little vindictive and childish on your part but you're not talking to him now.

pointedly paying no mind to his whining beside you, doing your best to pretend it's just you on this bench. alone.

gojo on the other hand, is hellbent on proving otherwise. "don't ignore meee, i said sorry!"

he had, technically, but it was through laughs so you're not counting it.

"are you really mad at me?"

if you're being honest, no, but you've committed to this now and it's about the principle of the thing. it's a small punishment for all the antics he's been pulling lately anyways.

suddenly, there's a poke to your cheek, a pause, then he’s continuously poking at you. "please talk to me," he whinges, "it's boring if you don't talk to me, i'll die from lack of attention."

he doesn't. stop. poking. it's driving you mental, so you snap back, "if you keep poking me, i'm gonna bite that finger clean off."

"and you speak!" poking ceased but now he's wrapping his arm around your shoulder, "i've missed you."

"it's barely been ten minutes and you've been next to me the whole time."

"sweetheart," he says gravely, "it was the worst ten minutes of my life."

you roll your eyes at him, he's such a drama queen... and you think you might love him.

Pairing : Bruce wayne x Pregnant!batmom!reader + Damian wayne

Synopsis : The Wayne family learns a baby girl is on the way. While everyone is overjoyed, one of the boys slowly withdraws, convinced he'll soon lose his place. One night, youdecides not to let him hide anymore.

divider from @pixopix

The manor was quiet, only disturbed by the crackling fire in your bedroom's fireplace. It was almost midnight, and you had given up trying to sleep, choosing instead to sit in the large armchair by the window, a blanket over your shoulders and your hands resting on your eight month round belly.

The door opened without a sound. Bruce, still dressed in his suit from the evening, tie loosened, jacket over his arm, froze for a moment when he saw you awake at this hour.

"You should be sleeping," he said softly, closing the door behind him.

"She won't stop moving. Impossible to fall asleep."

A small smile, barely visible, crossed his face. The kind he saved for so few people. He set his jacket on the back of a chair, undid his tie completely, then came closer to kneel in front of you, something he had started doing often these past weeks.

"She's giving you a hard time," he murmured, gently placing his hands on your belly.

"She gets that from her father, I think. Always moving, never still."

Bruce looked up at you, amused. "I think she gets her personality from you."

As if to prove him right, a small kick could be felt under his palm. Bruce went still, almost suspended, as if the whole world had stopped at that exact moment. You had already seen him face impossible situations with icy calm, but nothing disarmed him quite like these small movements under his hands.

"She's doing it again," he whispered, a hint of wonder in his voice that he no longer bothered hiding from you.

"She knows you're here."

He rested his forehead against your belly, closing his eyes for a moment, as if he simply wanted to stay there, suspended in this moment. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension of his day, endless meetings, maybe an earlier patrol, all the weight he carried without ever complaining, slowly dissolve under your touch.

"Did you think about names today?" you asked after a while.

"I sat through a four hour board meeting thinking about girl names instead of listening," he admitted, lifting his head with a guilty half smile.

"Bruce Wayne, distracted in a meeting. Now that would make headlines."

"For that alone, I could live with the headlines."

He straightened up slightly to sit on the arm of the chair, one arm behind your shoulders, the other hand still resting on your belly as if he couldn't bring himself to move it. You let yourself lean into him, the exhaustion of pregnancy finally settling over you now that you weren't alone in the silence of the room.

"She's going to be so loved," you murmured, half asleep already. "You know that?"

Bruce pressed a kiss into your hair, his arm tightening slightly around you.

"She'll never have to doubt it," he answered quietly. "I promise you that."

Outside, Gotham kept living its restless life, indifferent. But here, in this room bathed in firelight, there was only the three of you. And for once, Bruce Wayne was nowhere else but exactly here.

The next morning, you wake up in his arms, pale dawn light filtering through the curtains. Bruce is still asleep, one hand resting out of habit on your belly even in his sleep, as if he refused to move it unconsciously. You take his sleeping hand and press it gently against you, and that's what wakes him, a still drowsy smile on his lips.

"Today," you say simply.

He understands right away. "Today," he repeats, and the barely contained excitement in his voice, from a man who always controls everything, makes you laugh softly against his shoulder.

Half an hour later, you go down to the kitchen together, hand in hand. Dick is already at the table, tearing through his breakfast. Jason flips through a newspaper with a detached air. Tim, eyes half closed, clings to his coffee cup like a lifeline. And off to the side, near the counter, Damian is playing with one of the manor's cats, just as serious as always.

Bruce gives you that nervous, happy look he reserves only for you, then clears his throat.

"We have something to tell you."

Four sets of eyes look up at you.

"It's a girl," you say, a hand resting on your belly.

Dick springs out of his chair with a shout of joy, nearly knocking over his coffee cup. "A girl! I'm going to be the favorite big brother, that's official!" He pulls you into a careful but overjoyed hug, then throws himself at Bruce, laughing. Jason shakes his head with a genuine smile. "A little Wayne princess. Gotham isn't ready." Tim mumbles sincere congratulations between two sips of coffee.

You look for Damian. He hasn't moved, the cat frozen in his arms. He nods once.

"Congratulations," he says, brief, before setting the animal down and leaving the room without a sound.

No one else seems to notice. You do.

You find him a bit later in the library, a book open in front of him that he clearly isn't reading. You sit down across from him.

"You okay, Damian?"

"Perfectly fine."

"You didn't say much this morning."

"There was nothing to add. Dick covered it for ten people."

You try to catch his eyes. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is."

"I'm fine," he repeats, closing the book with a sharp motion. "If you'll excuse me, I have training."

He's gone before you can add anything else.

Over the following days, you feel him pulling away a little more each day. He leaves rooms as soon as the baby comes up in conversation. He stops coming near you when you talk nursery plans with Alfred. Bruce, caught up in work, doesn't seem to have noticed yet. You have, and you don't intend to let it go.

The chance comes one evening, while the whole family watches a movie in the living room. You're curled up against Bruce on the couch, his hand resting on your belly, tracing slow absent circles with his thumb. You turn your head to include Damian in a comment and notice his empty seat.

"I'll be right back," you whisper to Bruce, who follows your gaze to the empty chair and nods, understanding without a word.

Damian's door is slightly open. You knock softly before stepping in. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, Titus lying at his feet, his shoulders slumped.

"I wasn't feeling well," he says without looking up. "It's nothing."

You sit down next to him, carefully, despite your belly. "I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth."

The silence stretches. Then it breaks all at once.

"You won't need me anymore." The words come out fast, bitter. "She'll be your real daughter. Your child, both of yours, by blood. Not... not some training mistake forced on you. Not the son of an assassin you had to mold into someone decent. I'm not stupid. I know how it works."

His voice shakes at the end. He looks away.

Your heart breaks on the spot. You place a hand on his arm, gently turning him to face you.

"That little girl is never, ever going to replace you. You are not a mistake, and you have never been a burden anyone had to accept. You are our son. You were before she existed, and you still will be after. She's going to be born into a family where you're already her big brother. She's going to be lucky to have you, Damian. So lucky."

He tries to keep his composure, his usual mask. But his lip trembles, and for once, he doesn't pull away when you draw him against you. He lets himself fall into your shoulder, stiff at first, then his arms wrap around you with a force that feels almost desperate.

"I didn't want..." he murmurs against your shoulder. "I didn't want to feel like this. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid at all," you answer, stroking his hair. "It's human, Damian. And I'm glad you told me."

You stay like that for a long moment, in silence, listening to Titus breathing at your feet. Then you look up and notice Bruce standing in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame. He hasn't said anything. He didn't want to interrupt. But his smile, quiet, genuine, says enough.

Damian looks up too, spots his father, tenses slightly, embarrassed. Bruce steps forward, kneels down in front of both of you, and rests a firm hand on his son's shoulder.

"She's right, you know," he says softly. "About all of it."

A real smile, small, unsure, but real, finally lights up Damian's face.

"You coming to finish the movie with us?" you ask, pushing yourself up with one hand on your lower back. "Dick's already spoiled the ending three times, you're not missing anything."

A huff of amusement escapes him, almost against his will. "I suppose someone has to remind him to be quiet."

"That's the spirit," Bruce says, ruffling his hair on the way out, a gesture Damian actually tolerates, for once, without protest.

The three of you head back down to the living room together, Titus trotting behind you, and when Damian sits back down in his chair, a little closer to the couch than usual, nobody comments. You settle back against Bruce, his hand finding your belly again, and for the first time in days, Damian laughs freely at one of Dick's jokes, without holding back

Taglist : @sunshine740 @tigerlillyruiz @starrydustedwinter @fireriyu @nalah-whimsy

how does your other half, Bruce Wayne, treat you during the galas you attend? well, like royalty obviously.

Bruce Wayne Masterlist ◞ follow for more. 2k event soon!

Bruce Wayne, who at every gala, the first thing Bruce does when you arrive is subtly check the back of your dress. He’ll step behind you under the pretense of adjusting your shawl or necklace, running his fingers lightly along the zipper or hem to make sure everything is secure. “Just making sure you’re comfortable,” he’ll murmur in your ear, but the way his hand lingers shows how much he loves taking care of you.

Bruce Wayne, who when walking down stairs or across marble floors, always positions himself slightly in front or to the side, pointing out any uneven step or slippery spot with a gentle touch to your elbow. “Careful here, love,” he’ll say softly, offering his arm so you can hold on. He never makes it obvious to others — it’s just for you, quiet and protective.

Bruce Wayne, who if your dress has a long train or flowing fabric, he’ll discreetly hold it for you when you sit or stand, making sure it doesn’t get caught or stepped on. He does it so smoothly that no one notices, but you always feel his careful fingers brushing the material, like he’s shielding you from even the smallest inconvenience.

summary: Your husband, Gojo, gives you the run down on a boy whose body now inhabits the King of Curses. While debriefing where you go from there, you point out how he seems to have a penchant for adopting troubled, orphaned boys.

content ♡.°୭ - Zenin!Reader, husband!Gojo, talks of death, empathizing, light banter, the higher-ups suck, Gojo the secret softy, dialogue heavy, fluffy towards the end, wc of 2.5k

June 2018

A young pink haired boy, specifically 15 years old, was currently passed out while tied to a chair in Jujutsu High’s isolation chamber. Talismans littered the walls, and the ambient light source came from the dozens of lit candles that were intentionally placed around the room. Satoru sat in front of the boy in a chair while you stood beside him with your arms crossed, mildly confused.

Satoru, as chipper as ever, had just gotten done detailing to you who this boy—Itadori Yuji—was and how he’d ended up in this predicament. The predicament being? Secret execution as ordered by the higher-ups, for the crime of now housing Sukuna Ryomen within his body.

“Let me see if I’ve got this correct,” you said, resting your fingers on your forehead. “Megumi traced a special grade cursed object, one of Sukuna’s fingers, that he was tasked with retrieving to this boy’s high school.”

“Sugisawa Municipal High,” Satoru highlighted, “Correct,”

“Said boy’s friends had the finger in their possession and planned to undo the seal on it at school during the nighttime.”

He nodded, “They did,”

“Afterwards, the intensity of the cursed energy ruminating from it attracted curses of varying grades, and put them in imminent danger.”

“Mhm,”

You pointed at the still unconscious young lad. “Megumi got there in time to exorcise most of them and help save his friends, but was overpowered by a curse he missed. In which Itadori was forced to eat the finger to save him.”

Satoru clapped once, “And now to keep the rematerialized King of Curses from potentially killing millions, the higher-ups want Itadori dead.” Not that he was happy about that, of course. “That’s the whole story, sweets. At least the important bits.”

Immediately you pinched and pulled at the flesh of his cheek, hard, causing him to yelp. “You could’ve told me all of this before I got here!” you exclaimed, thoroughly vexed. That at least would’ve given you a window to process all of this in the time it took you to arrive. Alas, your husband wasn’t known for thinking ahead.

as someone whos really bad with social cues/context, i doubt i could pick those up irl😅 but no pressure ofc!!

hi!! sorry this took so long

The fancy restaurant offered a secluded chamber just for the two of you. Sylus made sure to pick out a place with all of your favorite foods, intricate cocktails, and warm lighting that was cozy enough to dim your outrage at how expensive the place was. The lack of prizes on the menu you were given was enough confirmation.

When you gently chided Sylus, he just sent you one of his grins and told you to pick a drink.

You narrowed your eyes at him in silent threat and looked down to regard the drink menu.

The card was elegant paper with cursive letters and thin-lined drawings scattered across the page. There was a variety of choices, some of which you had never heard of. There was tea made of herbs you did not dare pronounce; Italian coffee made of exotic beans; juices of fruit combined in a way you would never come up with. Then there was wine, names familiar to you, courtesy of the man sitting across from you. 

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Description: Things between you and Azriel had been going great, until he comes home from a mission wrapped around another. Realizing it wasn't as serious to him, you run. Just intending to take a walk, things go south when you realize you're in trouble... and the shadowsinger might just not care.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, injury, hurt/comfort, Azriel is a meanie, Cassian being Cassian.

Smoothing the skirts of your gown, your gaze couldn't help but fall on the necklace you hadn't taken off in weeks. Azriel had gifted it to you for solstice, the blue of the gem looking suspiciously similar to that of his siphons.

You wouldn't say you were courting, per se. Your relationship had simply bloomed on its own into something neither of you had ever bothered to name.

Your fingers drifted over the stone's surface, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your shoulders began to ease. Azriel was meant to be home tonight.

It was no surprise to you that Rhysand had deemed Azriel's mission over the same night he intended to host a feast for the inner circle and outside friends. According to your High Lord, Azriel was due back any moment now, the details of his mission unbeknownst to you. You were just excited to see him.

Azriel had gone on a few missions since this relationship had intensified, the male always seeking you out the second his feet touched down on the balcony of the house of wind.

You hadn't intended to miss him so much. Things were still fairly new, and to feel this attached to him was almost alarming. You weren't used to having someone to wait for, unsure if you should act overly joyful at his return or a little more nonchalant.

Shaking your head for some clarity, you let your gaze fall upon your figure one last time. You had chosen the best getup you had available for the occasion, something in you itching to see the reaction of the shadowsinger. The dark fabric and intricate lace might have been on purpose to reference his shadows, but that was insignificant.

He always took you in appreciatively, whether in a nightgown or training leathers, his gaze slowly dropping to your feet before rising to your face. You felt your cheeks heat at the memory of the way his eyes darkened when landing on you.

Finally tearing your gaze from the mirror, you cleared your throat from the intensity before making your way out of your bed chambers.

The violins grew louder as you neared the party, your shoes clicking lightly against the stone of the ground beneath you. Finally catching sight of a few guests, you sighed in relief when your eyes fell on Mor already chatting up a familiar looking couple.

Timidly approaching her, you let your hand meet her arm before she turned to look at you, her gaze lighting up immediately at the recognition.

"Finally! I was starting to think you weren't coming!"

You giggled as her arms wrapped around your neck, her stance slightly wobbly likely from the wine glass already clutched in her fire red nails.

"I see someone has already cracked open the wine..."

She lightly smacked at your still outstretched hand, the glass sloshing lightly at her movements. Pulling entirely away from the couple she was previously speaking to, she wrapped her arm around yours before leading you deeper into the party.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I know you're just itching for a glass yourself." She huffed, heels clacking along as she kept her pace beside you.

An hour or two later, you were three glasses in, watching amusedly as Cassian reenacted an interaction he had in the market earlier this week.

"I don't understand why it's so laughable that I, warlord and killer of men, would be interested in personal hygiene?! You should've seen the females giggling from the stall over!"

A content laughter settled among the few fae around him, his expression exaggerated as if waiting for someone to answer his rhetorical question. Just when he seemed ready to continue, his posture stiffened at something he was seeing behind your back.

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you went to look behind you when Cassian's hand suddenly landed on your shoulder.

"Hey! Why don't we- uh- would you like to come get a drink with me?"

You could see the nervous gulp trail down his throat as his gaze searched yours, his eyebrows lifted almost in a plead as he gently pulled you toward him. Glancing down at your almost full wine glass, you lifted your gaze back to him confused, raising it slightly to catch his attention. It would have almost been comical if he didn't look so close to soiling his trousers.

"Not you, silly! Me! I need a drink, you know, all this 'working the crowd' has really dried out my thr-"

His plead was interrupted by a few gasps from the fae around you, your attention quickly snapping back to the situation at hand. Just as you went to turn around a second time, Cassian quickly pulled you again, your wine splashing over the rim and onto your fingers.

"Hey! What is going on with you? What is everyone starting at-"

Just as the words passed your lips, your gaze finally landed behind you. Across the party, an unmistakable spymaster was stood in the crowd. Feeling your pulse increase at his presence, you let your body fully turn in his direction, eager to greet him.

You were stopped in your tracks as your gaze lowered, your feet coming to an abrupt halt when you noticed a manicured hand wrapped around his bicep. Eyes quickly shooting to his right, you felt your heart stop entirely as your eyes fell on a beautiful fae woman. His eyes were on her as she laughed, her gaze more than friendly as she looked up at him.

All you could manage was a small "Oh." as Cassian appeared at your side, his hand finding your arm and tugging again.

Letting him steer you away from the sight, the gears in your mind began turning as you walked with him to his unknown destination. Voices invaded your mind, whispers from the party guests. Statements along the lines of "Azriel never brings a female" or "I wonder if he has found his mate". You only snapped out of your spiral momentarily when you heard a door shut behind you.

"Look y/n. I know what it looks like. Just listen to me-"

You raised your hand abruptly, cutting him off.

"What it looks like? Cass, it's what it is. You don't have to try and spare my feelings."

Cassian ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips.

"No y/n seriously. Let me explain."

You took in his devastated features, matching his look with your own. How awful that Cassian would have to be the one to let you down easily, his own brother too occupied to reject you himself.

"No Cass. It's fine. You don't have to explain for him."

You quickly turned away from him, dropping your glass on a nearby table. You didn't realize you were crying until you caught your reflection in the mirror above it, tears trailing through the makeup you had spent hours perfecting.

Steeling yourself in the reflection, you didn't let Cassian speak another word before you were gone. The rage and utter betrayal in your mind blending into one tainted landscape. Where the winds matched the ice you felt in your veins, the temperatures as brutal as the thrum in your heart.

Landing on your knees, you didn't even have to look up to know where you had landed. The snow cushioned your fall, pooling around the skirts of your gown. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared, watching as a thin layer of sleet covered your lap almost instantly.

Letting your hands fall to your sides, your fingers didn't even flinch as they came in contact with the freezing sludge beneath you. You just sat there, letting your body become one with the elements and bring you back to reality.

It didn't take long before you felt the biting chill racing across your skin, your gown not doing anything to shield from the biting winds. It was refreshing.

This place was not unfamiliar. You had been here before, many times. When you had nightmares, when you were so overwhelmed with emotion you couldn't escape, your mind always conjured you here. You don't know why, but the place that once seemed to frighten you was now calling with open arms. The one place nobody knew. The place of your deepest fears, now becoming your sanctuary.

Nobody would be crazy enough to follow you out here. Even if they somehow knew where you were.

It felt like hours had passed when you finally stood. Body uncontrollably jerking with the cold, you forced yourself onto unsteady feet. Letting your gaze fall on your destination, you took in the twisted black trees and steady downpour of sleet. The hairs on the back of your neck immediately stood. Something was watching from the darkness.

Whipping around at a cracking twig beside you, your hands immediately raised in defense, body tightening with anticipation. Feeling your breaths tumble past your lips, you couldn't help the jumps in your muscles from the freezing temperatures. As you squinted through the snowfall, you made out a large figure twisting its' way through the forest.

You jumped when you heard another sound behind you, forcing you to take your eyes off the first creature and check your blindspot in case of an ambush. Not seeing anything, you quickly whipped your head back to the original threat, but were shocked into a gasp when the creature appeared right in front of you. Tripping over your own feet, you gathered your skirts in your hand and ran.

Jumping over roots, ankles twisting and bending at awkward angles, you ran through the snow as fast as you could. Your toes were numb as the snow soaked through your slippers, making it even harder to measure your steps. You checked behind you every few steps, anguish crawling up your throat in a scream as you realized it was gaining on you faster than you anticipated.

Deciding running wasn't going to save you, you swallowed your fear and stopped your steps. Whipping around, you prepared to strike at the monster on your heels. A shudder crashed through you at the sight of it.

It was nothing you had ever seen before. A large reptile-like head rested on an even larger body, the moon glinting off of massive claws digging into the slush before you. It's long serpent-like neck twisted and turned as it looked at you, teeth baring and tongue lashing curiously as it sized you up.

You didn't even have a chance to take in the creature before it was pouncing, teeth chomping at the space your head was just in. Dodging, you tucked and weaved as quickly as you could to dodge its' blows. As you danced around the creature, you could hear its' voice in hissing whispers, and one of them made you stop dead in your tracks.

"The Ssssspymasssterssss mate!"

You could only stare as its' tongue flicked with each 'S', a pang of confusion almost knocking you back harder than one of the creature's blows.

Your moment of pause would cost you.

Before you could even utter a word, one of the creatures scaled legs soared, its claws sinking right into your side. You could feel as each claw pushed through your ribs, nothing but a small wheeze escaping as you held the intense eye contact. The searing pain was nothing compared to the memory you'd have of those eyes, holding your own like it never wanted you to forget. Your body had no choice but to collapse where you stood, the world blurring until you were looking up at the sky above you. You could barely make out a scaled tail whipping above you as the creature slipped into the night.

Your hand clutched your side, white hot pain shooting through you. You sucked in a ragged breath, only for it to catch as fluid invaded your lungs. A harsh cough wracked your body, your body convulsing and warm liquid spilling out onto your face.

Trying and failing to suck in a full breath, your battered body jerked and pulsed with the pain, your vision becoming hazy for a moment before focusing back on the night sky. You could feel the sleet hitting your face harshly, forcing your eyes to blink rapidly.

The wind howled around you, the once still trees looking alive as the rays of the moon slipped between their branches. You could hear the whistle of the wind through them, creaks and groans echoing around you at the pressure pushing against them.

Just as your vision blurred a second time, you thought you heard something. Your fae ears twitched, straining against the raging winds around you. Hope bloomed in your chest, fragile, as you listened.

There it was.

Faint at first, then louder.

"Y/n!" a voice bellowed through the trees. "Answer me, sweetheart!"

Your heart lurched.

Azriel.

Every instinct urged you to call out, to let him know you were here and you needed him. You opened your mouth, but only a weak broken gurgle escaped past the blood on your lips. Pain ripped through your chest.

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt the shrill trail of tears down your temples, the realization that Azriel wouldn't find you in time bringing a rough cry past your lips.

Your heart lurched a second time as another shout cut through the trees.

"Y/n?" His voice cracked with panic. "I hear you, baby."

Footsteps thundered through the forest, growing closer with every passing second, branches snapping beneath his steps. Shadows stirred between the trees, racing ahead of their master.

"I'm coming." he called, breathless. "Hold on for me. I'm coming."

Your blurry gaze catches a movement in the tree line before you, branches separating and snow falling as a tall figure bursts through. Before you can even orient yourself Azriel has landed on his knees beside you, the glow of his siphons drawing your focus to his chest.

Hands come up to cradle your face, your eyes flickering to his own as his head blocks your line of sight to the sky above. You can feel the trail of blood running down your chin when you attempt to smile up at him.

You can feel his hands leave your face as he assesses your body, another gurgle coming from you when his hand comes in contact with the wound on your side.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” he coos, his free hand coming back up to wipe at the tears rolling down your temple.

Your hand comes up to grab at his resting on your hair now, your own blood coating your fingers visible in your peripheral.

A broken sound leaves his lips as you choke once again, an almost feral growl you had never heard from him before.

His shadows slowly start to surround you, and before you can attempt another breath, his face steeles into one of resolve.

“I’m going to winnow you. I have to get you back to Velaris so Madja can help.” his hands automatically start moving to hold your body to his, one sliding beneath your back and the other cradling the back of your head.

At the movement, you can’t help the wince that tumbles past your lips.

“I know it hurts, sweetheart. But you have to stay with me, okay? Can you do that for me?” his eyes are pleading when he locks them with your own, his breaths trembling.

With as much of a nod as you can muster, you brace yourself for the pain about to consume you.

Azriel brings your body to his, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You watch in awe as the shadows surround you fully. You had never been surrounded by such complete and utter darkness.

You can hear Azriel talking to you, a repeated “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” passing through your ears as the world around you disappears.

With the warp through time, you can feel your entire being teetering over the edge of life and death. The pressure on your limbs is so strong you can do nothing but hold your breath, praying to the mother that you make it to the other side.

Azriel might love another, but you still have friends, a family waiting for you. Even though your heart was on the verge of breaking, you still had hope. Hope for happiness and a future where you didn’t feel like this.

Just as a bright white began taking over your vision, Azriel clutching to you like he would never let go again, the shadows dissipated. You could feel the coolness of their embrace leave you suddenly, before your consciousness began to fade.

Muffled in the background, you could hear Azriel yelling. “Get Madja! She doesn’t have much longer. She can’t breathe.” tore through his lips as your body transferred from his to a softer surface. You finally could let your mind relax.

The first thing to return to you was sound. You could hear the faint crackling in the hearth, a soft sound coming from the fae lights around you. Letting your ears tune into the new environment, your fingers began searching of their own volition.

A soft, familiar texture smoothed under your fingertips, the warmth of the comforter feeling foreign after so long in the cold.

Clearing your throat, your eyes immediately popped open when you realized that there was no longer anything interfering with your breaths.

It took a moment for your vision to clear, almost as if the sleet had to clear away before you could fully take in your surroundings. Slowly sitting up, you winced at the pinch in your side.

Your brows furrowed as you realized that this was not your room. The dark bedding and wall of daggers gave you a good idea of whose bed you were occupying, but you weren’t sure why.

Realizing you were alone in the room, you forced your legs to swing over the side of the bed, the grunt of effort an added reminder of the trauma your body had gone through.

You didn’t even stop to take in your appearance, which you were sure had been cleaned up by some form of magic, before tiptoeing through the cracked bedroom door.

It took a couple of stops against the wall before you began hearing muffled voices in the dining room. Your fae healing had gotten you this far, but you weren’t entirely confident in your own movements.

Steeling yourself and taking a calming breath, you prepared yourself to see the Illyrian you were sure held your broken heart in his own two, scarred, hands. Right as you were about to round the corner, you stopped again when you heard the smooth timbre of his voice rumbling through the room.

“And nobody thought to fucking tell her that?”

Realizing you were the topic of discussion, you decided to stop the inevitable and make your presence known. You only made it two steps into the room before every head snapped in your direction, and another two before your body was brutally crushed into an embrace.

“Oh, thank the mother! I am so glad you’re alr- wai- what are you doing out of bed?!” Mor’s voice screeched against your ear. You could only wince as she bombarded you, her arms immediately pulling back as she jerked herself away from you.

You only smiled apologetically at her as her expression filled with guilt. It only took two seconds before that look turned into one of gratitude, her body coming in to hug you a lot more gently the second time around.

A round of agreements and scolds met you as Mor finally released you, your gaze jumping around the room to take in the entire inner circle. Out of nerves, your eyes purposely avoided the darkest corner of the room.

You could feel the cool drag of shadows as they assessed your frame, only steeling yourself further until they were content and sliding back to their master.

As all eyes stayed locked on your form, you finally cleared your throat once more before letting out a scratchy “Anyone got any water?”

After what felt like hours, you had finally finished explaining every detail of your mishap with the serpent like creature. Leaving out the tidbit about your rescue, everyone seemed content enough to begin parting for their own duties. With an order to rest and hydrate, you also turned to leave the dining room when a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Can we talk?”

Your body felt frozen as you took in his voice. A mixture of exhaustion and sadness finding you from across the room.

Keeping your back turned to him, you let everybody else pass you by before swallowing your nerves and turning to face him.

You could only bring yourself to look at his chest, his fighting leathers now traded for a black shirt and trousers. You could see the daunting outline of his wings behind him, your fingers immediately coming to twist in front of you.

You tucked a stray hair behind your ear, gaze dropping as you waited for him to break the silence.

It took a few long moments, but the first words to leave him almost had your mouth dropping in shock.

“Can you look at me please?”

Your eyes immediately lifted to his own, a frown of confusion painting your face when you took in the sight of him.

His hair was disheveled as if he had been vigorously running his fingers through it, his under eyes dark and a shadow forming on the lower half of his face.

Just as you went to blurt out something, anything, his form crossed the room. He looked almost afraid to get too close to you, choosing instead to stop with a good yard of distance between you.

Your eyes flickered between his own as you processed your thoughts, unsure what you were really supposed to say. Before you could get out a word, his rough voice stopped you again.

“How are you feeling?”

You were a bit taken aback by his question. A few embarrassing stutters leaving you before you finally coughed up a quick “Good. I feel pretty good.”

Your fingers kept violently twisting as he eyed you up and down, your brain bouncing a million different questions around before it finally settled on one.

You didn’t even have a moment to second guess before the words were forcing past your lips.

“Am I your mate?”

A look of certain shock passed over Azriel’s face before he steeled himself again, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His hand came up to run through his hair as his face portrayed the inner turmoil clearly a jumbled mess in his brain.

“I only ask because before that… snake thing… attacked me it hissed out something along the lines of ‘the spymaster’s mate’ and it really confused me because after the party I’m not really sure what’s going on. I understand if you were planning to reject the bond for that female but why string me along before then, you know? I thought something was forming between us but now I think I might have just been exaggerating things in my own mind- I mean, that woman was beautiful, and I understand why you would choose her over me but-“

You only stopped to take a breath as Azriel roared a growl, your body flinching back as he whirled towards the dining table. He looked as if he was about to break something before his hand came up to rub at his chest.

Your shocked gaze stared at his back as his shoulders heaved, his wings twitching wildly before pulling tightly back into their normal position.

A sigh that carried the weight of the world left him before he whirled back around, his legs taking two more steps toward you. His hand reached out as if to touch you before he seemingly thought better of it and brought it back to pinch at the bridge of his nose instead.

“Reject you? Y/n, please, you’re killing me.” his face held nothing but anguish as he brought his gaze back up to meet yours. “Rhysand asked me to escort that female to the party. She was linked to some Illyrian’s we’ve been monitoring and he wanted me to get more intel. Fuck, I would’ve never- I never- Cassian was supposed to tell you. He was supposed to tell you before the party started but he was too busy following Nesta around like a lost pu- oh fuck this.”

He seemed to decide against the last part of his explanation before he closed the rest of the distance between you. Your breath caught at the proximity when his hands came up to cradle your jaw, his eyes piercing yours as a confused furrow took over your brow.

Without realizing, your hands came up to grip his forearms, your eyes fleeting between his own as you processed his words.

His body only pressed closer to yours as you hesitated, the gears running a mile a minute in your mind.

“I swear to you, y/n. There is no one else in this galaxy I would’ve rather been with than you. I hate that you even questioned my feelings for you. I’m yours. I have been since the day we met.”

His eyes only intensified his words as you searched them, the gold flecks throughout his orbs almost glowing as they locked with yours.

You felt the trail of a tear before you could stop it, your lip wobbling for a reason unbeknownst to you. Azriel was quick to wipe it away, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His voice lowered to a whisper as he continued.

“I almost lost it when I heard you were missing. I don’t even remember leaving the party or how I knew where to find you. I would tear this world apart inch by inch if it meant keeping you safe, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

Your breath shuddered through a gasp as more tears made their way down your cheeks. Letting your eyes fall closed, you shook your head against his before meeting his gaze again.

“So basically you’re saying that my disappearance was a slight overreaction?” you whispered, your teeth finding your lip as you waited for his reaction, a smile threatening to break out on your face.

Azriel shuddered a laugh of disbelief, his hands pulling you fully into his embrace. You could’ve sworn you saw a slight wetness in his eyes before your face was tucked firmly into his neck.

You and Azriel had reluctantly split after your embrace caused a sudden twinge in your side, his warmth immediately turning into panic at the wince that left your lips.

You had parted with the promise that you would get some rest before finding him in the morning to finish your conversation.

Flipping harshly onto your other side, you sighed in frustration as sleep continued to evade you. Every time you closed your eyes you saw manicured nails, serpent like eyes, and the look on Azriel’s face as it assessed your form on the floor of the woods. Also, the mantra of mate, mate, mate playing on a loop in your mind didn’t help.

Kicking the blankets off of your legs, you didn’t give yourself time to rethink your movements as you tiptoed out of your bedroom and towards Azriel’s. Pausing at his door, you let your knuckles lightly tap the surface before you heard a quick “Come in”.

Pushing past the threshold, you let the door close behind you before you made yourself as small as possible in his doorway. Wringing your fingers again, you slowly gazed up at Azriel, sitting wide awake in bed with a book resting on his chest.

You twisted your mouth in contemplation before letting out a small “I can’t sleep.”, your gaze dropping to your bare feet before snapping back up at the sound of rustling blankets.

Azriel had lifted his duvet, his body sliding further into the bed as he gestured for you to join him.

Shyly stalking towards his bed, you gently climbed into the open space next to him before his hands immediately made contact and brought you into his embrace.

The position almost ended up being a horizontal hug, your head tucked under his chin. One arm was wrapped around your waist as the other rested under your head, his hand coming up to twist a strand of your hair. His wing folded over the both of you, the lights instantly dimming into a soft glow through the membrane.

You slowly tilted your head back to meet his eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you took in his features. Letting it out as a whisper, you started with “I’m sorry for bothering you..” only to be immediately cut off.

Azriel tucked your head back into his neck, his chest rising with a deep inhale before he whispered back.

⟢ sylus x fem!non-mc!reader.

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 the world of love & deepspace. great! one thing: you’re not the main character. 

so, what the hell are you supposed to do when you wake up in his bed, the man is hugely affectionate, despite you not being his canonical love interest?!

⟢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 ⨾ isekai / transmigration, canon au, fluff, humour, angst(?), 18+

⟢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⨾ 7k

⟢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⨾ [n]sfw(??? kinda?? i wouldn't recommend reading this in a public space is all) / implied sexual content (nothing actually happens) / however MDNI / canon universe / (attempts at) humour / reader is very self-deprecating / i will probably expand on this idea with the other leads, lmk if you'd like to see that / uh really playing to that classic manhwa trope we all know and love and are kinda tired of now with this / this is probably the risqué-est stuff i've written ahaha 🧍‍♀️ anyways enjoy!!

⟢ ao3.

For context, and to clear your name, you’ve long grown out of that silly, adolescent desire to be transmigrated into your favourite fictional universe, because you know, and have accepted, that it could never happen.

The unobtainability of fiction, if that’s a word, is probably what makes it the most appealing. An escape from reality, because reality could never be so sweet, and just something to occupy your mind when you’re idle and missing out on sleep again. Thankfully, people don’t bother you too much. You liken yourself greatly to Rhiannon from Sweetpea. You like that show a lot.

Love & Deepspace was just one of your many distractions from life. Pushing thirty and still stuck in that low-end assistant job to your unhelpful manager, you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet, let alone dated. Your mother told you it was high time to settle down with someone nice and handsome and preferably rich. Every annual family event you attended, that you were actually invited to, it was her and your aunts and grandmother who nagged you about it.

We spend a ridiculous amount of money, but it barely makes a dent in his savings, and he’s absolutely delighted that we’re doing it

We refuse to use his money while going on a shopping spree, and he retaliates by either freezing our cards or sending us a ridiculous amount of money that he won’t take back

Either way, it doesn’t give us the reaction we want from Sylus. And that’s when it hit me: using his money on someone else.

Say we’re MC. We wait until we know Mephisto’s out so he won’t snitch on us. Then we go to meet Tara and announce that our boyfriend is funding a shopping trip for her. We buy her the most expensive things and get nothing for us.

Sylus would see his black card wracking up a lot of money and just smile, thinking about how cute we’re being. But then he gets back and… there’s nothing.

“Sweetie? Did you bring all your things to your place?”

“Nope~”

“…Well, then where are they?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t get anything. I treated Tara to a shopping trip :)”

What’s he going to do now? Demand Tara return everything? Unlikely. Mess with her finances? Maybe, but I don’t think he’d want to cause trouble for us like that. The perfect checkmate.

BTS silence you with a kiss mid-argument...

JEON JUNGKOOK

“You’re being ridiculous,” you snap. Jungkook points at you, eyes wide with frustration. “You ignored me for hours!” “Because you were being clingy!” He steps closer. “And you were being cold!” The air crackles between you, charged and hot. You shove his shoulder; he grabs your wrist. Neither of you back down. “Let go,” you warn. “No,” he fires back, pulling you into him so fast your breath stutters. Your chest meets his. His jaw clenches. “You drive me crazy,” he breathes.  You’re about to argue again, but he crushes his mouth to yours. The kiss is raw and explosive, consuming and fuelled by every ounce of tension between you. Jungkook kisses like he’s been holding this in for too long, like the argument lit a fuse he couldn’t put out.  His hand slides to your lower back, pressing you closer and deeper, until you’re drowning in the heat of him. You cling to his shirt without meaning to, and he growls softly when you kiss him back just as fiercely. When he breaks away, he’s breathless. “You can’t ignore me,” he says, voice low and wrecked. “Not when I feel like this.” He kisses you again before you can even think of replying.

KIM TAEHYUNG/V

“Stop being sarcastic,” you demand. Taehyung lifts a brow. “Stop giving me something to be sarcastic about.”

Your glare heightens. “You’re infuriating.” He steps closer. “And you love it.”

You open your mouth to deny it, but he’s suddenly right in front of you, his breath warm against your cheek. You feel his fingers ghost along your arm, sending sparks racing under your skin.

“Tae, don’t start,” you warn.

“Oh, I’ve already started.” Before you can process it, he catches your chin lightly between his fingers and pulls your mouth to his in a slow, deep kiss. It’s devastatingly sensual, like honey poured over heat. 

Taehyung kisses you with a lazy sort of confidence, savouring every second, like the argument was just foreplay to him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers caressing your skin until your whole body tingles. You exhale shakily against his lips. He smirks into the kiss. “Mmhmm −that’s the sound I wanted.”

When he finally pulls away, you’re flushed, unsteady. Taehyung traces your lower lip with a fingertip. “Still mad?”

You shake your head.

“Good.” His smile is wicked. “Because I’m not done.”

KIM SEOKJIN/JIN

“Why are you being so dramatic?” you demand.

Jin scoffs loudly. “Me? You’re the one who turned nothing into a crisis.”

Your irritation spikes. “Because you never take anything seriously!”

His jaw flexes. “Oh, I take this seriously.”

You’re about to snap back when Jin steps forward so fast you stumble. He catches your waist, steadying you, but his eyes are blazing. “You talk too much,” he says, almost to himself.

You gasp, “Excuse me−.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s unexpectedly intense. Jin, who was usually so composed, suddenly losing every ounce of that polished calm. His lips are warm and demanding, moving against yours with a mixture of frustration and something that feels dangerously close to hunger.

His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him as if proximity could end the argument for good. You feel the heat rolling off him, the tension in his shoulders, and the way he exhales through his nose like he’s been holding back for far too long.

When he finally breaks the kiss, you’re breathless, clinging to him without meaning to.

He smiles smugly, but so devastatingly handsome. “See? Much better,” he says softly. “Now stop fighting me and let me kiss you again.”

YOONGI/SUGA

“You’re impossible!” you shout.

Yoongi stands there, arms crossed, expression flat, his eyes burning. “You’re the one twisting everything.”

“You never tell me what you’re thinking!”

“Because you don’t listen!”

You step closer. So does he. Neither of you back down. Then Yoongi exhales as though he’s reached a breaking point. “I swear to God, Y/N−” he sighs. You barely have time to register the shift before his hand slides to your waist and he yanks you forward. His lips crash into yours with a suppressed fire that steals the breath straight from your lungs.

The kiss is rough and desperate, as if every emotion he refuses to say has suddenly found one escape route. His fingers tighten at your hip, the other tilts your chin up, holding you exactly where he wants you.

Your anger dissolves instantly, replaced by heat pooling low and fast. Yoongi nips your lower lip just enough to make you gasp.

“That’s better,” he breathes against your mouth, his voice a deep rumble you swear you can feel in your soul. “You’re only loud when you’re mad. Not when I actually need you to hear me.”

He kisses you again, slower and deeper, and it feels like he’s making up for every word he never said.

HOBI/J-HOPE

Hoseok paces, hands in his hair. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“Oh please,” you argue, “you’re overreacting−.”

“Overreacting?” His laugh is high and theatrical. “You scared me!”

Your chest tightens. “You didn’t have to yell.”

He stops pacing and looks at you intently. He’s in front of you in two strides, his hands warm and shaking slightly as they cup your face. “You have no idea what you mean to me,” he whispers, his voice strained.

You blink, throat tight. “Hobi−.”

He kisses you before you can say anything else. It’s fiery and heated, almost frantic, as if he’s pouring fear, relief and affection into every second. His lips move against yours with consuming urgency, and you feel it everywhere at once −the tremble of his hands, the press of his body and the soft sound he makes when you kiss him back just as hard.

The argument fades like smoke. When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against yours, breath hot and uneven. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your cheek. “I’ll kiss you senseless every time you try to argue with me.”

The way he’s looking at you makes you believe him.

PARK JIMIN

“You think you’re right about everything,” you accuse.

Jimin’s lips press into a thin line. “Only when I am right.”

You groan in frustration. “See? This is exactly−.”

He steps forward with that slow, deliberate confidence that always unravels you. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he says. 

“Don’t call me−.”

Jimin kisses you mid-sentence. It’s deceptively soft at first, his full lips brushing yours like a tease. His fingers slide along your jaw, tilting your face up as he deepens the kiss with devastating precision. 

He kisses like he knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly what you need to forget your own name, let alone an argument. Your anger melts instantly, replaced by warmth that spreads fast through your entire body.

He pulls back just enough to speak against your lips. “You’re so loud when you think you’re right,” he whispers, breath tickling your skin. “But so quiet when I kiss you like this.”

He kisses you again, longer and sweeter, but with an undercurrent of heat that leaves you clinging to him.

When he finally lets you breathe, he smiles irresistibly. “So,” he says, “Do you still want to argue?”

NAMJOON/RM

His voice is low, tight with frustration as he towers over you. “You’re not listening,” he snaps, pushing a hand through his hair. 

You fire back too quick and sharply, and the moment the words leave your mouth, Namjoon steps into your space like he’s done holding back.

“Y/N,” he growls, grabbing gently but firmly at your wrist. You try to pull away, but he tugs you closer. “Stop talking.”

You open your mouth. Big mistake.

His lips crash onto yours with fierce precision, swallowing every argument you thought you had. His other hand cups the back of your neck, thumb pressing just under your jaw in a way that melts your knees instantly.

The kiss is slow and purposeful at first, commanding, before he deepens it, his breath warm, his lips insistent, like he needs this more than he needs to win the fight. When he pulls back, you’re breathless and dizzy, your fingers curled into his shirt without realizing.

Namjoon smirks. “Now that you’re actually quiet,” he murmurs huskily, thumb brushing your lower lip, “−Can we talk like adults?”

But the look in his eyes tells you he’s not done kissing you −not even close.

Thanks for Reading • • ❤︎ bts masterlist ❤︎ bts reactions/imagines masterlist •

mdni ❀ smut ❀ fem!reader

wc 2738

“You really can’t do anything about it?” You asked hopefully, sitting at the edge of the examination table in the school’s clinic. 

Shoko exhaled before glancing at your white haired counterpart, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. 

She turned back to you and shook her head. 

“Cases of bonds this strong are so rare, there’s hardly any research on it,” she explained, tired from hours of digging through books and websites.  

Ever since the two of you broke up, you and Satoru have been having some unique problems. 

Specifically, you haven’t been able to stay away from each other. 

Whether it was because you had a stronger soulmate bond than most couples or because you were both jujutsu sorcerers, you had no idea. 

You were just getting annoyed of running into him every couple of minutes. 

You couldn’t really blame him, even if it was mostly him who ended up finding you. Being naturally drawn to each other was just what came with a soulmate bond this strong.

Besides, you more often than not found yourself subconsciously going to see him before your brain could catch up to your feet. 

It didn’t help that he could fucking teleport. 

If only he didn’t infuriate you so much. 

“I’m sorry. You guys are just gonna have to put up with it.”

The paper on the examination table crinkled under your grip where you were holding on to the edge. 

“There’s nothing temporary we can do?” Satoru cut in, and you felt a little bit bad. 

Your breakup wasn’t clean or pretty, but it was clear to you that Satoru still cared about you and hated when you were irritated at him. 

You appreciated that he tried to respect your boundaries, even when he teleported himself to you against his will. 

And if you had to guess, he would agree without hesitation if you said you wanted to get back together. He never seemed to be upset when he’d appear out of thin air, and every so often you wondered if he sometimes did it on purpose. 

“The only thing I could think of is to create a binding vow to stop Gojo from teleporting to you,” she mused, pulling out a cigarette to light. God knows she needed one. “But that could create a whole bunch of issues.”

“Especially because he can’t control it,” you thought out loud in consideration.

“Exactly. He could get punished for something he can’t control,” Shoko agreed. “And even if you changed the vow to only intentional teleportation, it could be disastrous in cases of emergency where you might need his help or assistance.”

“Great,” you muttered, your grip on the table relaxing. 

Satoru frowned, looking like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. 

“Sorry, guys. I’ll let you know if I find anything that could help.”

“Well, thanks anyways,” you finally stood up and turned to leave.

Satoru, who was already standing by the door, took the hint and left before you did.

“Hey,” Shoko caught your attention before you left, only calling out when she was sure Gojo was gone. “Are you okay? I know the breakup was rough.”

“Yeah,” you turned to her. “It’s just getting irritating, you know?”

She nodded, bringing the cigarette to her lips to take a drag. 

“Okay. I just want to let you know that if worse comes to worse, we can do the binding vow. It’s rare, but soulmates can get… obsessive. If he’s hurting you–”

“Nothing like that,” you shook your head and interrupted her. “It’s kind of comical, if anything.”

“Okay,” she seemed relieved, smoke escaping as she exhaled. “That’s good. Just wanted to make sure.”

“I appreciate it,” you smiled gratefully. “Speaking of soulmates, how’s it going with Utahime?” 

“Good,” she said dryly. “We’ve got a date on Friday.”

“I hope it goes well!” you clasped your hands together in excitement. “You’ve gotta keep me updated.”

“Sure,” her tone remained dry, but you didn’t miss the tinge of pink dusting her cheeks. 

ᓚᘏᗢ

Nothing really changed after that.

The two of you continued to run into each other 24/7. Literally.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find him in your bed on two separate occasions, ones in which you definitely did not invite him. 

“Not right now,” he had mumbled, clinging onto you like a teddy bear when you tried to wake him up. 

“Satoru,” you hissed, trying to squirm out of his hold. “Wake up. You’re in my bed.”

“Uh huh,” he agreed with his eyes still closed and you almost shoved him off the bed. 

“Seriously, wake up!”

“Shhh.”

“Did you just shush me?”

You’d realized there was no way you could get him out of your bed and decided to just let it happen. As much as you hated to admit it, you slept really well that night. 

When you woke up, he was already up and in your kitchen, making breakfast for the two of you. 

An apology for teleporting in the middle of the night, he had said with a wink. 

You ate the pancakes with a scowl. 

And soon, you had started to learn to utilize his teleportation problem. 

Shopping sprees became a whole lot cheaper when you realized that there was about a 90% chance that he’d appear at some point during your trip. 

“Sorry, I just…” you had muttered, digging through your purse to try to find your wallet. Shit, did you really forget it at home?

“If you don’t have your physical card, we also accept electronic pay–”

The poor cashier was cut off with a whoosh when your soulmate suddenly appeared right next to you in the boutique. 

“Oh,” you set your purse down and turned to him. “Perfect. Could you help me pay for this? I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, handing his card over the counter to a stunned teenage girl. 

He volunteered to carry your bags, too. 

Was it wrong to exploit your pining soulmate? Maybe a little bit. 

But he technically offered to pay, so who were you to turn him down?

You think that the soulmate bond was also learning how to send him at the right times. He started appearing whenever you needed help, and you wanted to simultaneously curse and kiss him every time it happened. 

There was one specific time it happened, right when you were on the verge of tears trying to get the zipper on the back of a dress you had worn out to a formal event. 

“Fuck,” you almost cried, arms twisted behind your back as you tried to figure out how to get out of the stupid dress. 

Miraculously, Satoru had materialized in the middle of your bedroom, staring at you blankly as he watched yourself twist yourself into a pretzel. 

“Um… do you need help?” He had asked, taking a cautious step closer to you.

You sighed, ego shrinking as you decided that yes, you did in fact need help. 

“Yes, please.”

He unzipped you with an infuriating ease, leaving you only frustrated with yourself and annoyed at the bond for no reason other than your wounded pride.

“Thanks,” you said, sliding the dress down your shoulders.

He stood there, staring at you blankly like you hadn’t tried dating. Like the two of you hadn’t had each other in a whole assortment of positions, that, yes, you had to admit you sometimes missed. 

“Enjoying the show?” 

You snapped him out of his thoughts, eyebrows raised as you pulled out pajamas from your dresser.

You could practically see his eyes widen under his blindfold. 

“Sorry!” He apologized, trying to be respectful even though you could see the outline of the tent in his pants. “I didn’t–sorry, I, uh. Yeah. Bye.”

You blinked, and suddenly, he was no longer in your room. 

You shook your head to yourself, going to brush your teeth. 

And so the two of you kept living in a never ending cycle of unintentional meetings, some awkward, others more natural. 

Nothing really changed until the two of you decided to try seeing other people in hopes that it would weaken the bond. 

It was Satoru’s idea, to your surprise. 

“You think it’ll actually work?” You asked, legs folded on your living room couch as he sat in the armchair across from you. 

“I think it’s worth a shot,” he shrugged. “I read something about soulmate bonds growing weaker when soulmates become occupied with other people.”

“Most people can’t teleport,” you pointed out with a teasing grin. 

“That’s true,” he admitted, a little flustered as he shifted on the seat. “Our situation is so absurd, though. I think we should at least try.”

“Okay,” you agreed, still taken back by his initiative. “Let’s arrange dates this Saturday. Both of us with different people in restaurants across the city at the same time.”

He nodded in agreement. “Sounds good.”

Of course, it didn’t go as planned. 

It did most of the date.

You met up with a kind of stoic, dark haired man who told you about his exciting life as a consultant.

He was charming, you’d give him that. Handsome and easy going, he carried the conversation well and made sure to ask you about yourself. 

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t stop thinking about what might be happening with your soulmate right at that moment. 

It wasn’t until your date had gotten you in the front seat of his car, the two of you making out over the center console that your mind was finally off Satoru. 

Of course, the soulmate bond decided that was the perfect moment to have him teleport to you. 

He landed right in the backseat, eyes wide under the sunglasses when your date screamed. 

“What the fuck?!” He pulled back, reasonably alarmed, and gaped at your soulmate.

“Satoru!” You yelled. “What the hell?”

“You know him?” Your date turned to you with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows. 

“He’s my soulmate,” you admitted, glaring at said soulmate. 

“I didn’t mean to!” He said defensively, trying to back away in the tiny backseat.

“Nah, fuck this,” your date shook his head. “I ain’t goin’ out with a bitch with a crazy ass soulmate.”

“He’s not crazy!”

“Don’t call her a bitch.”

Your date unlocked the doors. “Out.”

You both quickly fled from the car and stood on the sidewalk as you watched him drive out of the parking lot. 

“...sorry.” Satoru awkwardly apologized.

You shrugged. “It is what it is.”

A beat of silence.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

The two of you started to walk down the sidewalk, not any destination in mind. 

“So, how was your date before I crashed it?”

“It was alright,” you said. “He was nice. A little boring, but otherwise pretty chill. What about you?”

He shrugged. 

“Also alright. She was nice, but too eager. A little overwhelming.”

“I get it,” you replied.

“Hey, I can teleport you back, so you don’t have to call a cab,” he offered. “An apology for ruining your date.”

“That would be nice. Thanks.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

After Satoru had dropped you off, you got ready for bed like you normally did. 

You walked around your apartment with ease. Taking off makeup, getting some water, brushing your teeth, it was just a mindless routine at this point. 

As strange as it was, you weren’t upset that Satoru crashed your date. You were relieved, if anything.

And you hated to admit it, but you were glad that the soulmate bond made Satoru ditch his date for you. You knew you should be irritated. You were just getting so used to being around him all the time that it was just becoming normal. 

It wasn’t until you stepped into something solid that you realized you had been lost in thought. 

“Oh!” You looked up at Satoru. “Satoru, I–”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you, sunglasses off and wearing a shirt and sweatpants. He grabbed you by your waist. “I can’t stay away from you.”

You don’t know what could have happened in two hours, but you hadn’t seen him looking this disheveled in a long time. Eyes wide and hair a mess, he looked like he just rolled out of bed. 

“Satoru!” You repeated, startled by his sudden confession. “What are you talking about?”

“I need you so fucking bad,” he swallowed. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

Fuck it. You were so tired of this stupid dance. 

You reached up to grab his face and pulled him down, lifting yourself up to meet him halfway. 

Your mouths crashed together messily, teeth knocking into each other and breaths growing quicker. 

You instantly felt lighter. 

He easily leaned into the kiss, towering over you as he walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. 

You let him push you down, falling backwards into the plush mattress as he fell on top of you. 

You savored the weight of him, all muscle pressing into you and holding you down. 

You didn’t break the kiss until he started to trail it downwards. He lifted himself up above you, propping himself up with his arms while he started to leave kisses down your neck to your collarbone. 

You let him leave marks along your neck. Your hands found his biceps, squeezing as your eyes shut at the feeling of him sucking and biting. 

“Please,” he looked up at you in between kisses. “Can I make it up to you?”

With the way he was looking at you, you wanted to make it up to him. 

You nodded. 

His weight suddenly lifted off of you. You frowned before you realized what he was doing, now kneeling at the foot of your bed.

“What are you–” “Shhh,” he said, hands going up your thighs to the top of your shorts. “I told you I want to make it up to you.”

Your mouth went dry when he slid his fingers under the waistband and pulled down your shorts all the way. He discarded them somewhere on the floor behind him and reached up to feel you through your panties. 

Your head fell back at the first touch.

Fuck, you forgot how much better it was when it was your soulmate.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, watching the way your panties just kept getting damper and damper. 

You bit your lip, suddenly a little embarrassed.

A faint smile appeared when he saw your expression. 

“I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

He pulled down the panties all the way, leaving your lower half completely bare. 

He leaned forward, lifting your thighs over his shoulders and leaning in. 

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp when the first puff of warm breath hit your cunt. 

The hands that were buried in the sheets immediately flew to his white locks and you held on for dear life. 

“Satoru, I– fuck,” you breathed out when you finally felt his tongue on you. 

You threw your head back against the pillow, thighs tightening around his head as he pushed his tongue in deeper. 

Maybe it was partly because he was your soulmate, but damn, you forgot how good he was at this. 

“Please, Satoru, need–fuck!–need more,” you whined, unable to think about anything besides how much you missed this. 

You couldn’t see his entire face, but you were almost positive he was smiling against your cunt. 

Regardless, he listened. 

His hands gripped onto your hips, nose bumping your clit as he worked his mouth faster, just the way he remembered you liked it. 

You gripped harder onto his hair in response, unable to stop the moans from spilling from your mouth. 

“Missed you, Satoru,” you couldn’t stop yourself from admitting. 

It clearly spurred him on, because you were soon crying out his name as you came on his tongue. 

He helped you ride it out as it shook you in waves, he himself moaning against you as he tasted your release.

He gently lifted your legs off his shoulders when he was sure you were done.

He laid next to you, pulling you into his strong arms and shaking his head when you offered to return the favor.

"Next time," he said as you curled into his side. "This is supposed to be my apology."

"You're forgiven."

"...You know, I hated seeing you kiss that douchebag. "

You snorted.

"It was your idea."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Sorry. I guess you're stuck with me."

𓍢ִ໋❀˚⋆

࣪ ˖ 𖦹°. Staff room.

At this rate, Principal Yaga will fire you both.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

"I am not going to kiss you."

You huffed, scooting your table away from Satoru, the metal scrapping against the wooden floor, your attempt to get away seeming futile against him, as he shuffled closer.

"Come on now," He whined, pouting whilst batting his ivory lashes at you, hands clasped under his chin as he inched closer, "just one little peck, please?"

You sighed, glaring at the papers littered on the desk, majority of them where marked with red, answers crossed out, spellings corrected.

"Do you know what these are, Satoru?"

His brows furrowed as he leaned over to look at the papers, before looking up at you in confusion, "Report card for my class?" He answered, not understanding the severity of the situation yet.

"Yes." You breathed out, centre of your forehead throbbing with dull ache, "results of students under your supervision." You elaborated, setting three marksheets before him.

Fushiguro Megumi: 179/300

Nobara Kugisaki: 99/300

Itadori Yuuji: 67/300

With each passing paper, it was evident that he wasn't doing a very good job of teaching them, at least academically.

"Well, they do plan on staying in sorcery, so grades don't matter." He reasoned, already nudging the papers underneath a pile of mission files, getting back to his initial plan of snogging in the teacher's staff room.

You scowled, reaching over to pull the papers back out and setting them in the center of the table, "They need to pass these classes, Gojo." You hissed, your gaze strict and scrutinizing.

Satoru gasped, hand splayed on his chest as he, quiet literally, laid on top of your desk, knocking paper off it, "What did you just call me?!"

"Quit being dramatic, I am serious." You groaned, brows furrowed in distress as you contemplated about Yuuji and Nobara's future, you still had hope for Megumi though.

"Just kill me then." He sobbed, grabbing a random it was Yuuji's paper and clutching it to his chest, crumpling it, "First you rejected my affection, then you pretended to be a stranger—"

"You are not slick, Gojo." You sighed, snatching Yuuji's paper from his hand, smoothening out the creases, "Kyoto students all excelled their exams," you leaned back, watching as he got comfortable on your desk, "Gakuganji already send a copy of reports to Principal Yaga."

"Old men comparing dicks." He breathed out, eyeing your frame, mind still churning out ways to get you to kiss him, "Tell Yaga, Gakuganji is old, he'll die soo—"

"Not soon enough, Satoru." A third voice suddenly resonated in the staff room, echoing as Satoru scrambled to stand up straight, smoothening his uniform as Principal Yaga entered the room.

You crossed your arms, eyes locked on the paper weight on your desk, knowing the moment your eyes met his, his punishment would become yours too.

"I send her to knock some sense into you." Principal Yaga nodded towards you, hands in his pockets as he calming stared at Satoru, although the veins pulsing along his forehead ensured you he was anything but calm.

"She was trying, I just wanted a—" Satoru quickly sealed his lips shut as Yaga quirked his brow at him, figuring he'll only dig a deeper grave, he sighed, "I'll figure something out for them."

Principal Yaga nodded his head, momentarily satisfied, before turning around and leaving the staff room, the sound of his shoes clicking against the wooden floor fading away slowly.

"Can I get a ki—"

"No."

You abruptly cut him off, gathering pages into a single file and holding it out to him, eyes narrowed as he slumped down in his chair, cheeks puffed up lips all glossy and puckered in a pout.

"Fuckin', loser." You grumbled, standing up and stepping closer to him, grabbing the front collar of his uniform to pull him closer, planting a quick and messy peck against his lips before pulling away, "Figure out a better study plan and I'll give you more."

Darn it, Satoru will put his soul into educating those kids now.

summary: satoru has his final moment you with before facing sukuna (gojo x f!reader)

tags: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, unrequited love, sad ending, guess who dies in the end

wc: ~0.9 words cr on the divider: @/tsumiinum

Satoru is standing in your apartment's front door with a huge bouquet of red carnations, smiling like an idiot as always. You can see the blood rushing to his cheeks as he tries to bury his face with the flowers.

You almost want to slap the shit out of him and talk some sense into him for him to register what he's agreeing to.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you furrowed your eyebrows. The last thing you were expecting was him showing up at your apartment.

Satoru is still smiling like a kid that had just gotten his dream present when in reality, he is walking into a death trap.

You made up your mind you aren't joining the others to see what's going to happen. It's not meant for the weak and you're more than weak. You don't have the heart for that. Instead, you chose to stay behind.

“Oh?” he leans down to match your height. “Is that how you're wishing me luck? Rude!” Satoru pouted at your greeting. Even at a depressing time like this, he still manages to make you smile.

You kick Satoru’s feet before inviting him in. He placed the red carnations on the vase he bought you a couple of years ago.

“You know you can still back out from this, right?” you crossed your arms. Satoru looked at you and softened his eyes. He makes his way up to you.

“This is for the best.” he utters out your name. Satoru tries his best to assure you. Just like how any other sorcerer does. But no matter what he says, it's not lifting up your mood. You aren't getting any better.

“Besides, I'm the strongest. You have nothing to worry about.” he flashes a grin as he points to himself.

Strongest, huh?

On any other day, you'd roll your eyes and feed his ego even more. But today? You just couldn't stand it anymore.

“Bullshit!” you lost it. How is he so good at pretending? “Look, Satoru. Can't you see that I care for you. You are my best friend and I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. You know you can always back off and not participate, right? Forget the people, let everyone suffer. Learn to choose yourself for once. This—”

He kissed you.

Soft and warm. His hands cup your cheeks and suddenly, you're out of words. You shut your eyes and relaxed your tense shoulders. You are hoping this is all a dream you'll wake up from. His lips felt just right on you. You throw your arms on his neck, lifting your tiptoes to reach his height.

You almost wanted to strangle him. All those long years of you wanting him to make the first move, he did nothing. Treating you like an ordinary friend. But now that time is running out, he's finally doing the things you wished he did long ago, before all of this mess started and you fear it's too late.

You don't want this to end. But the story written for the two of you has been torn apart already long ago by fate. The odds are always against the two of you.

You didn't even know your tears fell until he broke the kiss. Your breathing starts getting heavier and right now, your vision is blurring and you feel a large lump on your throat.

“I have to go, you know that.” his hands cups your cheeks and wipes the tears away.

“Will we see each other again?” you couldn't recognize your own voice. You shut your eyes. Those words barely came out of your mouth. Your hands find their way to his arms for comfort. He didn't answer you right away. Instead, he rests his head on your shoulder and lets out a tired sigh.

“I don't know.” Satoru was a man of his word and he would never want to let your hopes down by letting you hear some lies for your own comfort just for you to drown in despair once you found out the truth. He's not entirely sure if he's going to succeed. And if he doesn't, he wants to let you know the truth.

That he loves you.

Your hands reached to touch his hair. He grabs your waist and pulls you closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that.

“Can't you stay a little longer?” you plead. He just gives you a soft smile and another kiss on your forehead.

“I wish I could.” he lifted your chin and your watery eyes met his.

Your heart felt heavier than usual. It aches for what the two of you could've been if fate is on your side—on his side.

“Satoru,” you call out his name.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Promise me you'll make it out alive.” you need him alive. There are so much more stuff in your lives that you haven't explored yet. You want to grow with him, you wanted him by your side as you age.

“I can't do that.” he lifted his head from your shoulder. All your dreams shatted.

“Why?” you sounded more desperate now.

“I don't want to give you false hope.”

“Please don't leave me.” your hands started to tremble and he held it to calm the shaking.

“I'll always love you, remember that. We'll still find each other. If not in this life, we'll definitely cross paths again in another life. Don't wait for me. Don't be too hard on yourself either. But please, don't forget about me." Satoru hands you one of his stupid blindfolds for you to keep as a remembrance.

"I'll see you on the other side."

That was all what Satoru said before he left you there crying on your front door.

And you never knew that the first time Satoru kissed you will also be the last time.

summary: Turns out you had met the Waynes well before meeting your husband. pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader tags and warning(s): Nothing as far as I'm aware, wrote this in an hour and I'm way too sleepy to proofread this. some info might not be accurate, Maybe OOC word count:1.1k dc mlist bruce wayne mlist

Bruce Wayne had a hollow pit in his heart that ached for the simple things in life, such as Jason picking up his call, dick staying the night at the manor, among others. But like everyone else, he wished for things that could never happen, like his parents alive and well beyond their early thirties, and meeting you, his wife.

But what if fate had other plans?

You expected proficiency. You expected professionalism. There was the standard and then there was Sylus.

Lately, you were lucky to have bare minimum as the medic bandaged the gash on your leg, your expression hardened as one of your subordinates relayed the shit show back to you through analytical jargon. What a joke.

All for what? His distraction needed help taking care of a boo-boo?

It grated on your nerves, fraying the ends until all that was left was a tangled mess of frustrations and grievances that made your stomach ache. You were still on an adrenaline high when he finally returned from whatever situation that caused him to leave, his expression twisted into something close to disappointment. Maybe that's why biting your tongue was the farthest thought in your mind.

"I thought you could handle it?" You sucked on your teeth, shooting him a glare as you forced a tight smile on your face.

"Oh, my apologies, sir. I didn't know I was supposed to take leadership when you left us in the middle of our extraction." Your voice was pure venom, his eyes hardening as the air was sucked out of the room. Your medic who was patching you up swiftly finished his work before making a beeline out of the room, not wanting to get caught up in the storm.

"Careful. You seem to think you're at liberty to speak to me in this manner." Your hands gripped the examination table tightly, your smile widening further.

"My mistake. Is this better, Boss?" He didn't find it amusing, which was fine with you.

"Watch your tone." Your jaw clenched tight. "You seem to be forgetting yourself in my presence."

You would have laughed if the raw, hot anger wasn't boiling beneath your skin, your chest heaving with every breath as you tried to calm your emotions down into something manageable.

"You seem to be forgetting yourself entirely." You spat. "You're the boss, Sylus. You're the one our men look towards when we finally move. You're the one that we're supposed to follow and support so that we can continue to remind the world why we're at the top."

You hopped off the table, staggering when the gash in your leg reminded you why you were in this position to begin with as you braced yourself against the table. "You left us to fend for ourselves. Unfortunately, Mr. Qin, I don't exactly have the same overwhelming power that you have. Forgive me for not having an Evol that can regenerate my wounds and dissolve bullets when they're shot at me."

You dragged your gaze towards him once more, his expression cold as he watched you struggle to stay on your own two feet. Funny how months prior, he would have steadied you. Funny how a year prior, he would have sat you back down on the table and told you not to push yourself.

How times have truly changed.

"Isn't she a Hunter? A strong one at that? I could have sworn she won medals and awards and had articles written about how she was at the top of her profession." Your smile returned, but the bitterness inside you bled out through your eyes as you pushed yourself to take a step forward towards him. "You're telling me that a Hunter like that needs you to run to her aid any time there's a minor inconvenience?"

The air sizzled around you, red mist coiling around your body, making its way up to and around your neck as a pressure began to tighten around your windpipe.

You struck a nerve. Good.

Even if all the emotion was gone from his face, you could see the steel in his eyes as he took long, languid steps towards you until he was a step away. To him, you weren't a friend. To him, you weren't a partner.

To him, you were just a mouthy little wretch that was speaking far too much for your own good.

But you were not going to be intimidated. You were different from the others working beneath him. You didn't flinch. You didn't struggle. You held your ground, even if the floor beneath you was barely beneath your toes.

"You speak about things you know nothing about." His voice dropped an octave, his head tilted to the side slightly. "You not only forgot your place, but you seem to think you have any right to talk about my affairs with my Hunter."

You could feel the way the mist tightened around your neck, but you suppressed the grunt as you kept your eyes fixated on the man before you. The man that you used to look at with reverence and respect. The man that showed you what true power was and calculated every step flawlessly. This man was someone you were happy to spill blood for. A man who held ambitions befitting a god, monopolizing every aspect of the N109 Zone. A genius and a visionary.

And a man that you used to chastise when he got too carried away. A man that you shared meals with, laughing over the simple things in life and how you forget them when you're at the top. A man that you could have fallen in love with if the circumstances were different.

But the one you were looking at now, he wasn't the same.

If he thought you could handle yourself before, you would have taken on the responsibility with your head held high. You would have accepted the challenge posed to you because he trusted you to complete it with the same level of expectations he set himself with.

But this whole operation was doomed without him to begin with.

The plan was concocted with him at the forefront. You were supposed to support him. It wasn't just a recovery of stolen goods, but a full frontal assault that showed everyone why messing with Onychinus was the biggest mistake you could make. It was a statement. A reminder. A threat.

But he left in the midst of battle. He didn't even warn you, his figure disappearing in a red hazy mist that you only caught the end of before you were fighting for your life, dodging bullets and protecting what you could. You proved that without your leader, Onychinus wasn't the threat everyone believed it was. Without Sylus, the organization were a bunch of bums with high powered weapons that didn't know what to do with them.

It was a blow to your pride. A blow to the morale of your men.

And you watched as the man standing before you looked at you like none of it truly mattered to him. That this was all a game.

That was the most frustrating part of all of it.

"You told me that I could trust you," your voice was softer, the anger still present but muted as the air in your lungs became limited, "that you were someone who could carry the weight on your shoulders. Yet, all I saw was someone that was willing to sacrifice our lives, my life, like it was a means to an end."

Perhaps it was.

Sylus didn't flinch at your words. He didn't deny your claims. He didn't correct you and prove that he was still the same man you knew. He didn't even hesitate as he watched you with cold, calculating eyes.

"Everyone has their use; you are no different." Without warning, he released you as you fell to the ground, your hands bracing your fall as the blinding hot pain from your leg shot up throughout your nervous system. You stifled your agony, sucking in air as you grit your teeth to keep from voicing out your pain. "Disrespect her again and I will remind you permanently where your place truly is."

He didn't bother to wait for your response as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone to tend to the wound that opened up once more and bled through the bandages.

Everything you've endured was for nothing.

Every heartache and sleepless night was a waste.

You didn't expect love from him, but you deserved respect. Acknowledgement for your efforts and the time you spent building an empire of strength and power when he was still a nameless man on the street. Onychinus wasn't built overnight. It was through sheer effort, planning and time that created the empire that threatened to shake the foundations of the world.

He had the charisma, the money and the power to be someone that could rule the world. He simply needed support to get started. That's where you came in.

You had connections. You built trust with the right people that would soon be able to aid him. You knew the N109 Zone better than most and you had faith in him.

"You got this hungry look in your eyes." You stood over Sylus with a grin, peering down at him from the railing as he glanced up at you with a smirk. "You don't seem like an average denizen here in the Zone. You have ambitions, don't you?"

"You have a good eye, I'll give you that." Your grin widened, your chin propped up on your open palm as you leaned over more.

"Intimidation can only get you so far, mister. Eventually, someone will prove to you that they're not afraid of you or your power. That's why building connections and trust will carry you farther than what you've been trying to do. Making friends with those that won't bow down so easily is going to be your greatest asset." Sylus pushed himself off his bike and made his way up the steps to where you stood.

"You seem to know a lot about what I need." You puffed your chest out, your head held high.

"You got ambitions and so do I. You have the manpower, single-handedly from what I can see, and I have the connections that may aid you. I know who to trust and I know which hornet's nest to shake to get your messages across. Soon, everyone will know your name." You both stood in front of each other, hungry for something greater than this life provided.

"How are you so sure I'll even be able to live up to these impossible expectations you've set out?" You extended your hand out, undeterred and full of confidence.

"I got a good sense of these things and I know that you're not someone that is content with less than you deserve." Sylus laughed, his hand reaching for yours as you sealed the deal.

"Good eye."

You sat on the ground, uncomfortable and defeated by something you had no foresight to. Something written in the cosmos where no one but he and her were privy to. All the wasted effort. All the time counting the days where you could finally rest comfortably and enjoy the remainder of your life in luxury was all crumbling around you into remnants of misplaced trust.

It was clear as day now more than ever that he had a goal in mind and it wasn't just unmatched power. It was for her. All of this was to provide for her everything so she could never want for more. And if she did ever want more, then he could easily grant it to her.

It would have been easier to calculate your loss if you had known. You thought that everything you both went through, all the time getting to know one another and trusting the other would allow him to shed light on his true goals for why he was doing this. But the longer you sat there on the floor, the chill of the med bay coiling around you as you stared at the floor with empty eyes and racing thoughts, you realized you had nothing.

You were disposable.

You were a tool.

And Onychinus belonged to him and her, not you.