#hes just not used to having to worry about things like windows

[moondirti]

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell #ghostsoap #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #ghostsoap x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #call of duty

[steddieas-shegoes]

fool’s oil

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘fool’

rated t | no cw | tags: future fic, flirting, open ending but implied getting together

—————

It’s been a while since Steve has had to worry about taking care of a car. When he moved to Chicago with Robin, they agreed to sell his BMW for extra money. They’d be taking the metro or walking everywhere anyway.

But after graduation, Robin took a job offer in Indianapolis, and where Robin goes, Steve goes.

He managed to find a decent used car when he found his studio apartment, and after the initial hit to his bank account, he found a pretty decent job that helped him get back to a somewhat comfortable balance.

The chaos of moving had been more of a distraction than he anticipated. Settling into his new job as a first grade teacher, unpacking, catching up with Joyce and Hopper, had made him forget that cars do require maintenance.

The guy at the front desk of this mechanic shop wasn’t too thrilled about seeing him as soon as the door opened.

“What’s the hurry for an oil change?” He asked.

“It’s nearly 8000 miles past due,” Steve admitted.

“How did that happen?”

Steve didn’t like his tone.

“My whole family died in a fire.”

The guy backed up and at least looked apologetic, even if Steve was lying through his teeth.

“Well, you’re first to go back so it shouldn’t take too long, man. Our head mechanic just walked in.”

Steve nodded and walked to the seat by the window, watching as a guy with long, curly hair shoved it up into a ponytail and turned on a radio in the shop.

He leaned his head back and sighed.

Maybe he could convince Robin to move back to a big city in a few years. He forgot how much he hated the maintenance involved with owning things.

He was startled by a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice in his ear.

“So you’re the fool who forgot about oil changes because his family died in a fire?” Eddie Munson’s smirk was just as annoyingly attractive as it had been four years ago in Hawkins.

“Eddie? What the hell are you doing here?” Steve laughed and stood up to give him a hug.

“I’m working. What are you doing here? Thought you were in Chicago.”

“I was. Robin got a job here and I came back with her,” Steve couldn’t look away from him.

Eddie had always been hot, Steve had always pretended he wasn’t.

But now he was having trouble remembering why he pretended.

“So you’re here in Indy?”

“Yeah. You?”

Eddie smirked. “Yeah. That’s why I work here.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve was embarrassing himself.

“You got dinner plans?”

“Um.”

“You want dinner plans?”

“With you?”

“With me.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Dinner with you sounds great.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #I’m obviously waiting on an oil change #lived experiences are my source I guess #I wasn’t 8000 over though jfc never in my life

[jumexju]

CIRCLES

Fic Type !! : Series / Fluff / Some angst

CW !! : Nothing really

Summary !! : Two worlds collide when Gojo comes across a certain edgy 6-year old & decides he needs a babysitter to care for the kid. As you step into his world, he realizes just how different you are from him. They say opposites attract, but is it really true?

Note !! : I visualized a poc reader while writing this, though it can be read by anyone

WC !! : 2k

✦ MASTERLIST

CHAPTER I

The pitter-patter of the rain could be heard faintly as you looked out the window, trying to drown out the voice of your teacher who was lecturing Satoru for going overboard during a mission, again. The raindrops fell & landed on the window, allowing you to see how they slid across the glass.  You didn’t hate the rain. In fact, it was quite beautiful to you. But you hated getting wet. Soggy socks weren’t exactly an ideal. 

It reminded you of the things you didn’t have. Like new shoes for example. The rain would always find a way to get into your socks through the holes in them, you remembered getting sick in middle school because of it. Your mother didn’t have enough money to buy new ones, so you had to wear those until they eventually wore down to the point you had to get new ones. Thankfully now, your situation has changed. You were a jujutsu Sorcerer now, so you didn’t have to worry that much about money. 

Being the quiet kid meant that you’d overheard conversations quite often. Not because you were trying to eavesdrop, people just tended to forget you were there. 

“So, you need help taking care of the kid?” Shoko lifted a brow at the white haired sorcerer. 

He sighed, “Yeah.. I get called on missions a lot n’ can’t really look after both of them. Plus- They’re menaces. Well, Megumi anyways.” He complained about the kid. 

Shoko tilted her head, taking the lollipop out of  her mouth. “So you need a babysitter?” 

“Basically.” Satoru rested his chin on his palm as he looked out the window, obviously bored. 

“ I think I might know someone.” Shoko said quietly. 

Satoru lit up, “Really?” 

You were about to walk out of the classroom before you heard your name fall off Ieri’s lips. You mentally groaned, you’d heard enough to know exactly where she was going with this. Still, a little extra money couldn’t hurt right? You turned on your heel & faced Shoko. Satoru had an annoying smile on his face. “What's up?” 

“Would you mind helping Satoru babysit?” She put the lollipop back in her mouth, “He’ll pay you.” Shoko added. The both of you had been friends since you were first years so she knew about your siblings & how you’d grown up. She was one of the only people you trusted with that information since you know she wouldn’t mouth off and tell anyone else.  It’s not like you were ashamed, but you’d rather not have a certain rich kid try to use that against you. 

“Really? How much?” You lifted a brow as you crossed your arms. 

“Anything you want, money’s not an issue.” Satoru smirked and finished his can of soda. 

“.. Okay then, give me some time to think about it.” You told him, “I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow night.” As you slid the door to leave, you felt cold fingers wrap around your wrist. You jolted before looking up & seeing Satoru towering over you. 

Satoru let go of you, “Uh.. Shouldn’t we exchange numbers?” 

You froze, “Oh. Yeah- We probably should..” 

He laughed a little & handed you his phone, you did the same. You pressed in the numbers & saved it, typing your name above it. “Here,” He handed you your phone. 

You took it, your warm fingers brushing against his cold ones. “Thanks,” you said before telling him goodbye and continuing on your way to your dorm.

“She’s a little uptight.” Satoru commented. 

Shoko laughed, “Give her some time, she’ll warm up to you. ..Hopefully.” 

“Hopefully??” 

The ringing of your alarm woke you up, it was 6am. You sighed and rubbed your eyes, despite it being a Saturday, you didn’t want to sleep in today ー you had other, more important things to do. 

Like getting more cheesecake. 

Unfortunately, your love for sweets was greater than the fear of getting a cavity from them. For a while now, cheesecake was a comfort food you often indulged in because it could keep you full & it was also tasty. Ensei’s Bakery always had the best cheesecake. However, when you stepped out of your dorm, phone in hand ー you found yourself within the sights of a certain blue-eyed boy ー Much to your dismay. 

You were going to pretend you didn’t see him walking along the hall until-

“_____!” He called after you with the playful smile he always wore. 

You stopped in your tracks, looking back at him as he caught up with you. “..Gojo.” You lifted a brow, wondering what his business with you was. You told him you'd text him tonight didn’t you? 

“No need for formalities, just call me Satoru.” He smiled as he walked beside you. “Okay..” You said with a little hesitation in your tone. “So.. What do you want?” You looked up at him, still skeptical that a guy like him would actually choose to be near you. It’s not that you had low self-esteem, not at all. It’s just that well, it was unusual for you to be with someone so popular. You mainly kept to yourself so it felt weird to you. 

He chuckled, “Where’re you going?” 

“Ensei’s Bakery.” you answered curtly.

“Really? I’m going there too.” He smiled to himself. Though you were a little rough around the edges, Satoru tried not to make it personal. You were probably like this with new people, just like Shoko said. 

(Newsflash : Shoko didn’t say that. You just were caught off guard by his ‘friendliness’ towards you.)  

“I heard the cheesecake there was good so I’m checking it out.” He looked down at you, his boyish smile still painted on his face. You looked up at him, his words seemed to brighten up your uptight mood. 

It was one of the first times he saw you smile. 

You looked ahead, “Yeah the cheesecake there is exceptional. Creamy but not too heavy. It’s good.” Your fingers fidgeted with the keys in your pocket. 

“What do you recommend?” He asked curiously. 

Your brows furrowed a little as you thought about it. He noticed the way you brought your thumb up absentmindedly while you contemplated your answer. “Mm.. The Red Velvet one is really good.. But the Chocolate one is good too.. That's a difficult question..” You mumbled that last part, a little embarrassed at how you were letting yourself ramble in front of him.  “My favorite is the one with both Strawberry & chocolate though.” you told him. 

He teased you about your sweet tooth & kept the conversation going with you as you two walked. He asked about your family but your answers remained vague, he guessed it was just a sensitive topic so he left it alone. Soon enough, you two reached Ensei’s Bakery. Satoru held the door open for you, you thanked him for the gesture and as soon as you stepped in, you could smell the sweet aroma of baked goods ー it was heavenly to you. 

It seemed to appeal to Satoru as well, evident by the expression of bliss on his face. “Look, the cheesecakes are over here,” You pulled on his sleeve softly. His eyes widened behind his shades as he glanced at all the different cakes & sweets in the glass casing. 

“There’s so many to choose from..” His smile was almost infectious, you could feel the corners of your lips lifting up. “That's the one I like,” you pointed at your preferred Cheesecake on display. “I see why, It looks good..” 

“____!”

You turned around, looking for who had called your name. You smiled when you saw Keisha, one of your friends from childhood. “Isha, Hi!” You walked up to the counter where she was working. 

“How are you?” She asked with a warm smile. Her light brown skin bathed in the warm light as she walked around the counter to give you a hug. “I’m good,” you answered as you returned her hug, “How’re you?” She told you she was well before leaning close to you and whispering, “Who’s that? He’s cute..” She giggled as you lifted a brow. “Cute..?” You chuckled dryly, “You mean Gojo?” 

“Is he your boyfriend or something?” She nudged you playfully. 

“Don’t kid yourself, he’s your new customer.” you joked. You couldn’t really imagine ever being close to a guy like him. 

“Really?” 

“Maybe,” you shrugged and went over to Satoru, “You know what you want?” 

He leaned back up, “Yeah.” You followed him to the counter, Keisha smiling as the tall man walked over to where she was at. His smile was bright. 

“Hello, what can I get you?” Keisha shot a smile at you who stood beside him. 

“Hi,” he greeted your friend warmly, “Can I get one of everything?” 

You eyed the bags hanging off Gojo’s arms, a little impressed at his ability to spend that much. ‘I guess the rumors really were true..’, you thought to yourself as you tried not to make it obvious you were staring. Unfortunately, Gojo was a keen observer. 

He smirked. “Do I really look that good? You keep staring at me so I’m assuming I do.” 

You scoffed and looked off to the side as you both crossed the street. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You half-joked. “Why’d you spend so much? You could always come back y’know.” 

“Money’s not a problem for me.” 

You glared at him. It was like he was flaunting his money. “Clearly.” you muttered, then sighed. You couldn’t really say anything to that. It wasn’t like it was his fault you weren’t born into a rich family like he was, so why should you be ticked off that he had more than enough money? 

You were envious though. 

It was hard not to be. 

Soon enough, you two were back at Jujutsu Tech. The walk there was mostly silent, save for a few bits of small talk. As you were about to depart from him, he stopped you. His large, warm hand on your shoulder. 

“..?” You looked back at him. 

“Here.” He handed you a box of one of the cheesecakes he had gotten. You hesitated taking it from him but it was okay since he was offering, right? 

“.. What’s the catch?” you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Nothing?” He laughed, “Just thought it’d be polite to show some courtesy to my future babysitter.” His smile shone brighter than diamonds.  

“How do you know I’ll even say yes?” You deadpanned as your hands held the box of cheesecake. 

“I know you won’t say no.” 

As much as you hated him being right ー He was right. You didn’t say no to his offer. To be fair, you were going to be compensated so that was the upside to this whole thing. You untied your bonnet and freshened up your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror as you got ready to go meet the kids you were going to babysit. 

You only hoped they weren’t too annoying. 

Gojo headed to your dorm, it was around the time he told you he was going to pick you up and he thought it best to be early. It wouldn’t exactly look right for him to show up late, right? He absentmindedly scrolled on his phone as he waited outside your dorm room, patiently waiting for you to come out. 

And when you did, he couldn’t really believe it. 

You looked.. Different.

“You..” His eyes widened behind his shades as he looked at you, your black maxi dress showing off your physique. The vintage necklaces on your neck styled beautifully matched with your earrings and the bangles on your wrists. They added the right pop of color that contrasted your dress.

“You’re early.” You didn’t pay much attention to his reaction, “We should get going. It’s not exactly good parenting to leave kids on their own, Gojo.” 

He caught up to you, walking beside you as he led you to Ijichi’s car. “You look nice.” There was a ghost of redness on his cheeks if you looked hard enough. To say that Gojo was stunned at your ‘casual’ look was an understatement. This was a deep contrast to how you usually dressed. Granted, Jujutsu Tech did require you to wear a uniform so it was rare to see anyone in different clothing. Nevertheless, it was hard to miss someone who looked as good as you. 

Especially when you did it so effortlessly. 

“Thank you.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you took his compliment. Gojo opened the door for you, getting in beside you as Ijichi drove you to Gojo’s apartment. “So, Megumi and Tsumiki huh?” you asked, “Two girls? You must have your work cut out for you, Gojo.” A soft chuckle made its way out of your mouth.

“Girls?” Gojo lifted a brow, “Oh- No, Megumi’s a boy.” He corrected you, laughing a little. 

“He’s a boy..??” you laughed at the revelation, “Did his parents name him?” 

He laughed along with you. Seeing as Megumi wasn’t exactly a boy's name, your reaction was appropriate. “His father did, I think.” Gojo replied. “It was his father who told me about him actually.” 

This piqued your curiosity, “Did he ask you to take him in?” 

“No. He told me his son would be sold to the Zenin’s and to do what I wanted with that information.” Gojo explained. “I decided that I'd train the kid instead.” 

“That’s awfully nice of you,” you joked as you looked out of the window, “What happened to his dad?” 

“.. I killed him.” His tone wasn’t lively like before.

This caused a crease to form in between your eyebrows. It seemed to be a sensitive topic, you decided not to touch on it any further. Maybe Shoko would tell you. 

“.. I see.” 

“We’re here.” Gojo perked up, not wanting to ruin the mood with the story of how or why the kid’s father died. You thanked Ijichi before leaving the car, Gojo had opened the door for you of course. “So what’re they like?” You asked Gojo, a bit nervous to meet them since you didn’t know how they’d react to someone new. 

“Tsumiki’s a ray of sunshine, Megumi on the other hand is a little reserved but he’ll warm up to you eventually.” He said with a smile. Gojo seemed more animated whenever he spoke about his adoptive kids. He seemed to have an ambition to shape them. 

Maybe Gojo wasn’t entirely as bad as you thought. 

The jingle of Gojo’s keys was heard as he took them out to unlock the door. Once it was open, you walked in to see the place completely empty. It was huge, you weren’t even sure you could call it an apartment. “This is where you live??” You were in awe at the spacious kitchen and the pristine-looking living room.

“Yeah?” Gojo chuckled before calling out for the kids. “Megumi! Tsumiki! I have someone I’d like you to meet!” 

“What if they’re sleeping?” You asked as you looked up at Gojo. 

He shrugged, “Well now they aren’t,” 

“‘Cuz of your yelling,” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He went to the kitchen, deciding they’d probably come out when they were ready. “Want somethin’ to drink?” 

“You got cranberry juice?” 

“That’s oddly specific.” He remarked as he opened the fridge. “But yeah, I do.” 

You sat on the stool by the counter, patiently waiting for the kids to magically appear. Unfortunately, this allowed your thoughts to run rampant. Like, what if they didn’t like you? What if they never warmed up to you? You snapped out of it when Gojo handed you a glass of cranberry juice. “Thanks.” 

Right before you were going to take a sip, you felt a tug on your dress. 

“Who’re you?” 

Below, next to you, was a small kid with black hair that stuck up. He had a defensive look on his face. You guessed this would be Megumi. 

“I’m _______. Your new babysitter.” 

Do not translate or copy my works on other platforms.

#gojo #gojo satoru #satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo fic #gojo fluff #megumi #jjk megumi

[ataraxiaspainting]

Old Friend.

Yan Kenjaku x F Reader x Yan Geto.

Synopsis: The stranger looks all too familiar, aside from three peculiar mannerisms. How his fingers creep along the table’s edge. How his voice is too soft, too kind, and not at all cruel. How there are black stitches on his forehead.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, misogyny, use of the word monkey, and descriptions of past physical/mental abuse.

Word Count: 900.

*~*~*~*

Flattery comes out from Suguru’s mouth one sentence at a time, the words themselves soothing but the tone not so. After being dressed in clothes you picked out, after being presented with food you loved before captivity, you feel as though you were just revived… reborn. This feeling is foreign and isn’t let into your heart all at once, but little bit by little bit, because you know that Suguru’s gifts are often never superficial, but you also know how fast Suguru’s temper can spew once he has had enough of your antics.

On your knees, that demand is always accompanied by Suguru’s pointer finger facing down to the floor, monkey.

Somehow that collar consistently finds its way into Suguru’s right hand, even without one of his servants giving it to him.

But yet, here and now, you don’t feel the same ominous aura. It’s something darker. Something that for once isn’t directed at you, but the servants Suguru always treated well. So, would that make his aura lighter? You’re not sure. Similar to when it comes to Suguru’s moods and false smiles and truthful lies, you don’t know what to think.

“Master Geto?” You ask, looking past him to the balcony exit behind him. With all the candles put on the table, his face looks nearly fully illuminated, but the shadow covering his eyes is still there regardless. 

“Yes, pet?” Suguru responds, his hands cupping his face as he looks at you. 

“I…” You start, your thumbs caressing one another underneath the long white tablecloth. “Just wanted to thank you… that’s all.”

Suguru chuckles at that. No. Not a chuckle per se. Some sound unknown to you, or perhaps the identity of such was forgotten by you after so many years of being here kneeling at his feet on the floor like a trained mutt. 

Speak.

I’m sorry, Master Geto.

Make it more desperate so I know you won’t make false vows unbefitting of my precious varmint. I’ll even help you. What happens when a dog attempts to hurt its owner?

“Don’t worry about it, [First] dear. You deserve a dinner such as this, for you deserve to celebrate too.” He has never said your name other than when he is displeased with you, so him doing such makes you wince. Suguru takes another sip of his sake, not paying much mind to your innate actions.

They get hit back, Master Geto.

Then what will happen to them next time, if they do it again?

Something will break.

“You look quite divine tonight,” He says, using his knife to split his remaining steak into quarters. He stabs one of the pieces with his fork and chews on it without making much noise.

“Uh…”

“Everything about you is quite beautiful… I can see you becoming my wife one day after all of this is over. That is, if you continue to be so cute and defenseless, it’s your place after all.”

What kind of thing? Speak up.

Anything. A bone… Something they like… Their spirit…

Correct… and what is that thing covering your hand?

“You’re not really eating, dearest… Is something the matter?” He asks. You find yourself questioning if Suguru's concern is genuine. After all, he has faked empathy towards you before, so this wouldn't be the first time.

“No, no… It’s good.” In order to avoid his anger, you proceed to fill your mouth with sake and sesame rice. This amuses him. Does he find your desperation endearing? That would be in character for him, now that you think about it.

A cast, Master Geto.

And what did you do to earn such a thing?

You… broke my hand, after I tried to use the pieces of that broken bedroom window to stab you.

“I’m happy you’re enjoying it.” He grins, leaning in closer. “I have an offer for you. How about we go outside for a walk after this? It has been quite some time since you have seen the full moon, hasn’t it?”

Finally, you can envision a vast expanse of twinkling stars right before your eyes. In the realm of dreams, they reside so near, immune to fading or descending. But you ponder if reality holds the same allure. It has been an eternity since you were last allowed to venture outdoors. Oh, how you yearn for a glimpse of the sky once more.

Tell me, do you think you earned such a thing?

…Yes.

Good. It seems you’re learning.

But the temptation stopped as fast as it came. Dread replaces it in an instant. 

This man isn’t Suguru. You know that much for certain. With every hell he has put you through, you have come to know him and his mannerisms. Those mannerisms are nothing like this man. The thought scares you. Is this man a curse, the same kind Suguru uses against you after every escape attempt? Or is he just a normal man who is acting like him as a placeholder of some sort?

Where… is Suguru?

“...Why are there stitches on your forehead?”

#aya abstractions #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere geto #yandere geto x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere suguru geto #geto x reader #yandere suguru #getou suguru x reader #yandere kenjaku #yandere kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x reader

[orionremastered]

Are there another part for shapeshifter golden tiger reader :D i appreciate your writing so much! 💕

I've gotten another ask regarding a shifter!reader, so Imma just pile em up into one big AU. Send more shifter requests to have them added to the list! Even outside of gotham with other dc heroes would be cool. Like they've all got connections with other shifters online or sumin

shifter gang

?

Masterlist

Part One

Golden Pt. 2

It's been a few days since you last saw the pair, and maybe you're okay with that. Nights have been quiet yet cold, and you're getting excited about the temperature change that comes with spring.

Night patrols have been close to uneventful; save a kid or two there, maul a criminal of two here- the usual, in other words.

You're expecting the usual again tonight, just quiet patrolling and nothing extreme-

Look, you haven't been here for long, okay? Optimism, got it?

You're on the prowl for a missing girl, one that the bats no doubt have on their radar too, but you never know- you might get to her first. You went to the apartment where she lives and are confident that you could pinpoint her on her scent alone.

It's been an hour or two since you started looking and finally, you catch a whiff of the little girl's scent. You draw closer to an abandoned building, sneaking through structures to hide from the unforgiving street lights that flicker, forgotten by the city.

You jump onto a dumpster and into a broken window above it, landing quietly on the dusty floorboards. You can hear crying and the little girl's scent gets stronger.

Someone snaps at her as you draw closer, creeping up the stairs to the second floor. Thankful that the floor doesn't creak, you continue through the corridor of apartments, the number of each room fading from their painted places upon doors.

The screaming gets louder until you stop at a door, slightly ajar. You nudge it open with your nose and- you've luck- it's silent too.

"Shut the fuck up, dammit, you'll-"

The man doesn't get much more out of his mouth before you pounce, toppling both of you to the floor. Your fangs lock around his wrist, making him cry out in pain as you reach for the gun in his hand and throw it to the farthest corner of the room.

"Get-"

You snarl, pushing a set of sharp claws into the top of his spine. He yells curses that one should not around a child.

The window shatters beside you and two figures gracefully land in the room, one larger and one smaller by the sound of the thuds. You turn your head to glare, teeth bared and gleaming before you realise it's Robin and Batman- the duo one only fears if they're a criminal in the light of justice.

The man continues screaming, but not after giving one threatening snarl, deeper than any other you ever have.

"Leave the rest of this to us," Robin says calmly, and you're certain you like him more than the brooding knight in the corner near the gun.

He's allergic to those things anyway, so it's not like you're worried.

You step off the man's back and slowly approach the girl. She scrambles back and you remember you have blood still on your fangs. Still, you lower your head and attempt to look as harmless as a big cat can.

You can't grin when she reaches out to pet your head in case she sees your bloodied teeth. Once she realises you won't do her any harm, she scratches your neck and ears. Purring, you nudge her gently and lower yourself to the floor.

She's small enough to climb onto your back without it being too much of a struggle to stand and walk- she must be only five. She giggles, eyes red with tears, but she finds comfort in the warmth of your fur.

"GCPD has been called," the Bat says, glaring down at the criminal. You and Robin do the same. "Would you like us to take the girl to a hospital?"

You raise your head to look at him and flash your fangs, a solid 'no'.

"Whatever you think is best," Robin says, the Bat looking at him with a stare only a father could give to his son. "But wait, before you go-"

Robin smooths the short furs of your head and scratches underneath your ear. It takes you by surprise at first, but you don't snarl or bare your fangs at him, so he continues until he feels as though his father's glare has gone on long enough. "I told my siblings I'd pat you first. It's a bet, the only one I have participated in so far-" Batman snorts- "And I have won. As expected, I have succeeded."

You make a sound of amusement.

"Perhaps we shall work together again," the older of the two says. You huff, knowing you did all of this yourself, but nod anyway.

Perhaps it's time to make some friends -ones that aren't drowning in coffee and assignments, anyway.

Taglist: @veunho, @chevysstuffs, @carewerff, @xxrougefangxx, @yorkeylover

#batfam #batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfamily #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

[strawbubbysugar]

So uuuuuhh I was daydreaming in class today and I was imagining a scenario with Arche, so I'm curious about how this hypothetical in a different timeline/universe would play out! This is in the context of Elio still being on the front lines and the arrangement going as it's supposed to. Also this scenario would probs be years before the wedding, if that makes a difference. Here's the scene:

~~~

Arche's betrothed (not necessarily Dahmia, unless her personality is different in this world, up to you!) goes to Arche's tower and knocks on the door.

"Enter." Arche's voice is as grumpy as it usually is.

They enter the tower, closing the door behind them and standing in the middle of the room, holding themself for comfort.

"What is it?" Arche asks in a somewhat blunt manner, raising an eyebrow.

"I...I wanted to ask you something." They say quietly, not looking at him.

"Go on, then. Out with it," Arche says impatiently.

"Is...is it possible for me to somehow transfer my soul into a body built similar to yours? Perhaps...after the wedding?"

Arche's eyes widen, brows furrowed. "What-"

"We're stuck in this arrangement," They interrupt him. "Whether we like it or not. And..." Their eyes fall to the floor as they try not to get emotional.

"I don't want you to feel disgusted whenever you're around me."

Arche's face falls slightly as they continue, but he keeps his expression as neutral as he can.

"You're right," His betrothed chuckles emptily, almost embarrassed. "Humans are gross. We get sick, we have bodily fluids, weird smells, whatever. You were right as a child, and you're right now. I remember all of those times you made comments about my 'gross human stuff'."

They finally lift their eyes to meet Arche's gaze, their eyes slightly watering. "I don't want you to have to deal with that for the rest of your days. Hell, I don't want to deal with it either."

They take a step towards Arche, their face contorting to one of slight worry and sadness. "When we wake up in bed together, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable being close to me. When we have to kiss in front of everyone, I don't want you to have the feeling of wanting to jump out of the window in disgust. When we work together as rulers, I don't want you to keep your distance from me because you don't want to be around a 'filthy human'."

Arche thinks back to all of the times he made comments about humans being gross or disgusting when they both were young kids. He realizes now it's all manifesting into this very moment, and he's not sure what to say.

"Arche," They step a little closer, but give him fair space. "I know you hate this arrangement. I know you don't like me very much. I can handle that, honestly. Despite caring deeply for you, I can handle you not reciprocating that. But the thought of you being disgusted every moment you're close with me..." They shake their head, as if doing so would somehow rid them of the anxiety. "I can't stand it."

"I thought maybe...maybe I could make it more bearable for you if I wasn't human anymore. I want to make this arrangement the most pleasant it can possibly be for you. I know the whole point of us marrying is to unite the kingdoms, so it wouldn't make much sense if I wasn't human anymore. But...I don't know." They scoff in cold amusement, holding their head as they laugh at themselves. How silly. Why did they think it would be a good idea? Stupid. "I thought maybe...nevermind. I...I'm sorry."

They turn around and walk as fast as they can towards the tower's exit. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry for bothering you."

~~~

Sooooo yeah. I was imagining what I would do if I were in the arrangement with Arche, and I would feel soooo self-conscious after the whole "humans are smelly" thing during the dance, and just general comments/teasing every time I would sneeze or cough or something like that lol. Kinda like this moment in chapter 22 (Cubbies):

"At the mention of eating and feeling full, her stomach growled, as if to interject in the conversation. Her face flushed and she cleared her throat, hoping that he didn’t hear it. While around Beck she wouldn’t have been phased by such a small, human thing, being around an Atomaton it almost felt like admitting a weakness."

I was like "whoooa that's relatable af, i'd totally feel the same way" and then ended up daydreaming that scenario in class a couple hours later lol.

What do you think Arche would do in this hypothetical situation?

Sorry if this is kinda weird to ask about T_T

Awh this is so sweet!!! Def would be a y/n/other hypothetical princess rather than Dahmia, Dahmia (while occasionally embarrassed about human details) knows the significance of her being human and wouldn’t trade her body. She is very curious about it after seeing Cas, but if someone offered, she would decline.

I think in this hypothetical Arche would start to feel guilty about all the teasing he did as a child, and try to subtly make up for it without going out of his way to apologize. Complimenting how you smell, making a comment about how ‘interesting’ and ‘unique’ human biology is. He’d try to be slick about it so you don’t think he’s lying for your sake while trying to change your mind at the same time.

#ask #bethroned project #this was such a sweet lil ficlet omg

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt.5

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Series Summary: Joel makes a bad impression on the reader when he cuts in front of her at the radio station in the QZ. Abe, a father figure to her and an informant of Joel’s, informs her that the two have something in common: A brother in Wyoming. Joel reluctantly follows Abe’s wishes when he asks him to take the reader along to help find her brother too. As the journey goes on, she finds that despite his best efforts to make her think so, Joel isn’t a complete asshole, and maybe even a little… attractive?

Series Warnings: Slow burn, 18+ Minors DNI, Age gap (Reader is 34, Joel is 56.) Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)

Chapter Warnings: Canon typical suicide, suicidal ideation, claustrophobia, symptoms of a panic attack

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Five

 My eyes shot open and the hair on my neck raised at the sound of glass crunching. I stayed still and eyed the figures approaching us. With the dull light coming in from the windows, I could just barely make out the figures of a taller man, and a small child. The figures got closer and closer, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat up and gripped my knife in my hand before calling out, “Don’t fucking move.” The man froze and put his hand up against the kid’s chest. My eyes shot to Joel. I was surprised to see that he hadn’t been woken up, then I realized he’d turned over onto his other side. 

          The two pulled guns out of their pockets. The taller boy was aiming at me and the small one was aiming at Joel. “Shit.” I whispered. “Your man dangerous?” The tall one asked, his voice shaking with anxiety. I looked at Joel. “Harmless.” I said, as I looked up to the young man. “I don’t fucking believe you.” He shook the gun in my face and I flinched, “Fuck. Wake him up and we can talk.” I shook my head, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Look, we have a little food and some clothing in our packs. That’s all. You can take it and get out of here unharmed. Best option in my opinion.” The man looked to the little boy, and moved his one hand, making out symbols. Sign language. He looked back at me, “We don’t want your things. We want to help you.” 

        I didn’t know what to do. His offer for help was confusing to me. How did he know we were in trouble? If anything it seemed like he needed help, especially having a little boy to take care of. There’s no telling how Joel would react to me accepting their help without his approval. Plus I was already teetering onto his bad side. 

         The man’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, “C’mon lady!” I put my hands up and stood up very slowly. “He’s hard of hearing, can I get closer to him?” I asked. He nodded quickly and shifted his eyes to the sleeping figure. I cautiously walked over to him, and stood above him a safe distance away. “Joel.” I said. Nothing. “Joel!” I raised my voice and he shot up, first looking at me and then whipping his head around to comprehend the situation. “Eyes on me. You don’t have to worry about what to say. We don’t want to hurt you.” The young man demanded, “We wanna help you.” Joel’s eyes were wild, but he answered calmly, “Okay.” The boy shifted on his feet, “Um okay… so if I lower my gun, we didn’t hurt you. So you don’t hurt us. That’s how this works right?” Joel responded in the same tone, “That’s right.” Panic filled the boy’s voice, “That’s a wierd fuckin’ tone man..” I swallowed, “That’s just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he’s okay.” I breathed. Joel paused for a moment, keeping his intimidating stare planted on the man before saying in the same tone, “Everything is great.” I sighed angrily and reprimanded him for once, “Joel!” The man, still holding the gun to me shouted, “Fuck! Okay… listen, I’m gonna trust you.” And signed something to the little boy across from him. There was an exchange between them, and then he continued, “But if either of you guys try anything….. yeah?” I nodded, and he gestured to Joel who gave a small nod before asking, “Can I sit up?” The man nodded, “Yeah. Slow.” Joel raised his back off of the makeshift cot, and questioned again, “Who are you?” The man shifted on his feet again, still not lowering his gun. “My name is Henry. That’s my brother Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City.” Joel’s face dropped and so did my stomach, “Although right now, my guess is you’re running a close second.” 

          Once the negotiations simmered down, I offered the boys some food from my pack while ignoring the look Joel gave me. We sat around the lantern and ate quietly. “Where’d you get these?” Henry asked, referring to the sandwiches we’d split up and scarfed down. I waited for Joel to speak, but received nothing. “From a friend of his.” I answered. There was another moment of glum silence before Joel wrapped up the rest of his sandwich and leaned over to offer it to the little boy. My heart fluttered at the gesture. Maybe this would be okay. “He says thank you. I’m guessing you don’t have much so this means a lot.” Henry said after the boy signed something to him. 

          Now that there wasn’t a gun to my head, I told the boys my name and watched Henry sign it to Sam. We all looked at Joel who was absentmindedly chewing. I slapped his knee with the back of my hand and he jumped, his eyes shifting between me and the boys. “I’m Joel. Look, you ate. we didn’t kill each other. Let’s call this a win-win and move on.” I rolled my eyes and watched as Henry wrung his hands together. “Well, I’m betting… that y’all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out.” 

Daylight came, shining through the ginormous windows of the conference room we’d moved to so Joel and Henry could draw out a plan. I sat with Sam and got to know him a little more by exchanging his little drawing pad he had wrapped around his neck back and forth. My heart melted from the kid’s sweet smile every time he wrote something and showed it to me, then waited for my response. As I interacted with Sam, I still tried to keep my ear in the two men’s conversation. I couldn’t make out much except for “tunnels” and “rats” which didn’t sound like much fun. 

After a few more moments of giggling and talking to Sam, there was a light tap on my shoulder. I instinctively jumped and turned to see who it was. Joel was standing behind me with his arms crossed. He nodded his head towards the hallway before saying, “Come with me.” I wrote “Be right back!” on Sam’s notepad and handed it to him with a warm smile before standing up and following Joel into the hallway. He stopped a few feet away from the door, making sure we wouldn’t be heard. I stood there with my arms folded over my chest and shot him an expectant look. He cleared his throat before speaking, “The kid claims he knows his way through the tunnels under the city. Promises he can get us out with little to no risks.” I made a pfffft sound and repeated, “Little to no risks?” He nodded, and crossed his arms, “I know. Sounds like a load of bullshit. But he insists.” I stared at the floor, mulling through my thoughts. The sound of tunnels in a world like today’s did not sound enticing in the least bit. The thought actually made me feel lightheaded. “Do we have any other choice?” I asked. “I can’t think of a better plan.” he shrugged. 

We packed up our things and began our journey. We snuck through a few buildings before coming to the entrance of the tunnels. Henry opened the door and started in, but I paused. My feet felt like they were glued to the ground and my legs had turned to static. I heard Joel say my name, but I just stared into the door and down the long, dark tunnel. A hand on my shoulder jolted me back to reality, and I turned to Joel. “You okay?” Joel whispered. I nodded and pried my feet off the floor to walk through the large metal door. 

The tunnel was cold and had a strange, unsettling smell. Our footsteps and the sound of something I desperately hoped was water dripping echoed. I held my flashlight tight as I followed Henry through every twist and turn. Our group had been arranged into a very specific line. Henry first, Sam, me, and then Joel. My anxiety about being trapped in a tunnel was slightly relieved with the knowledge that he was behind me, but the place still started to feel suffocating after being down there long enough. I tried to steady my breathing, and dug my nails into my palms to stay alert. I must have slowed down my pace because I felt Joel’s hand pushing lightly into my back. “Come on, we’re almost there.” He whispered. His words grounded me, and I was able to keep myself together the rest of the way. 

We emerged from the tunnels long after nightfall, and began to walk down a suburban street that was littered with abandoned cars. We stayed quiet and moved swiftly down the street, being sure to keep our bodies low enough to not be seen over the cars. Just as I thought we were making it through with ease, a bullet whizzed past my head. I threw myself to the ground and rolled to press my back up against a car. Joel was next to me, but Henry and Same had split over to another car across the way. I looked at Joel, his eyes were wide as he peaked over the hood to get a glimpse of where the bullets were coming from. He knelt back down to face me. “They’re coming from that house up there. I’m going to go try and take him out. You get Sam and Henry as far away from here as possible and I’ll find you.” He said as he grabbed his gun out of his backpack. My chest tightened at the thought of him leaving us, “Joel…” I said, fear tightening my throat. He looked up from his gun and saw my fear-stricken form. He leaned in and placed his hands on my arms, “Do you trust me?” His brown eyes searched my face for an answer. I closed my eyes, took a hefty breath, and nodded. He nodded and squeezed my arms before standing and sprinting off to sneak to the house. 

After taking another deep breath, I stayed low to the ground and scrambled to meet Sam and Henry behind the car they were squatting behind. Henry looked confused, “Where’s Joel?” I pulled my gun out of my bag while answering, “He’s going to try to take out the sniper in the house. I’ll lead us out of here and he’ll meet us.” He nodded and took Sam’s hand. We scrambled from car to car, moving slowly, but still making progress. We took a longer pause behind a yellow car to catch our breaths when all of a sudden we heard the sound of an engine roaring down the street. Henry and I stared in horror at the giant tank motoring towards us. I shielded my eyes from the light as the vehicle approached. “We gotta move.” I yelled before sprinting through a line of cars. Sam and Henry were on my heels, but we were forced to drop down behind another car when the trucks barreled through the cars and  a line of bullets sprayed down from the house. They weren’t aiming for us anymore which told me Joel had made it.

 I didn’t have time to celebrate as a group of men with guns surrounded the three of us. I raised my hands above my head, and the boys did the same. “Henry!” A woman called out. I could only assume it was Kathleen. She appeared in front of the tank, her petite frame and soft features were even less intimidating than her voice was. “Remember me?” She asked condescendingly as she approached. I looked at Henry, trying to get a sense of their relationship, and from his panicked face, I concluded it was not good. “Please. I’ll surrender if you promise to leave them alone.” Henry breathed. Kathleen shrugged and trained her gun onto the little boy. What she said next made my skin crawl, “Well kids die, Henry. They die all the time. You think the world revolves around him? That he’s worth everything? Well this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”  Her gaze traveled towards me, and I froze as her eyes met mine. “And you. I have someone who’s been wanting to see you.” She turned to the side to let a man walk in front of her. My chest tightened as I realized who it was. The man from the attack in the city stood there with his lip curled into a sickening grin. I shot back a menacing stare as I prepared myself to fight him yet again. “Do whatever you want to her. But him, he’s mine.” the woman demanded.The man nodded and began to walk towards me but stopped short as a huge rumbling sound filled the air. The group of people turned around and I strained my neck to catch a glimpse. 

Horror numbed my body as I watched the ground crumble underneath the weight of the tank, causing a horde of clickers to come flooding out. Seeing opportunity, I grabbed Sam’s hand and began to sprint towards the house. Joel was attempting to shoot any infected that got close to us, but there were too many. We made it a few feet before the horde caught up to us and we were forced to hide under a car. I pulled in panicked breaths as I thought of our next move. Suddenly, Henry began to scream as he was pulled out. I grabbed onto his hand and tried to play tug of war with the clicker over him, but it was too strong, and pulled me out with him. I jumped to my feet and slammed my knife into the infected’s head. Henry shook its limp hands off of his leg. “You okay?” I asked him, scanning over for any bites or scratches. He shook his head and pulled his brother from under the truck. There was a lull in the waves of infected as they became preoccupied with destroying Kathleen’s people. 

The boys and I were nearing the house when the woman called Henry’s name again. She was standing on the hill, just feet away from us, pointing her gun towards Henry. “It’s over Henry. Surrender now.” She called over the chaos ensuing around us. I saw her hand tighten around her gun. I was ready to push Henry out of the way, but was pleasantly surprised to see an infected little girl launch her small body onto Kathleen. I pushed Henry and yelled, “Go!” We sprinted to the side of the house, finally escaping the hell scape of the street. I began to do what I promised Joel, and ushered the boys further into the woods, but a familiar voice caused me to stop. It was Joel. 

Relief washed over me as he came into view. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern. Sam threw his small body towards him and wrapped his arms around Joel’s waist. He looked at the boy, a pained expression on his face, but then reluctantly patted him on the back with one hand. I let a small smile spread across my face at the fondness Sam had developed for Joel in such a short time. I found myself having the urge to hug him too, but I quickly pushed that thought from my mind as Joel pushed ahead of us and began to lead us into the woods. 

We came across a motel for the night which Joel and Henry cleared before letting Sam and I in. Henry was in the other room, tucking Sam into bed, and I sat in the living room on the couch next to Joel. I’d decided to change the bandage on my hand since I had a moment. I’d been too preoccupied to take proper care of it the past few days. “So who was up there?” I asked absentmindedly. “Some old guy. I tried to negotiate, but you know how that goes.” He said solemnly. I nodded, “Now you get why I like to take action.” I teased lightheartedly. He shook his head, the side of his lip twitching. I looked at him. He was exhausted. His eyes  trained on the floor, and his dark hair ruffled atop his head. I studied the patchy beard that inhabited his strong jawline. I’d never noticed the small amount of gray sprinkled into it, showing his wisdom. I quickly shifted my eyes off of him when I noticed myself leaning towards his figure. What was I doing? This man wanted nothing to do with me, and here I was admiring his features. I sucked in a breath and stood up. His eyes followed me as I did so. “I’m going to get some sleep.” I mumbled while avoiding eye contact. “G’night.” He grunted. I nodded and walked over to the bed across the room, stretching my aching back before I laid down onto the soft, dusty mattress. 

         The next morning, Henry, Joel, and I sat in the main room of the motel, silently mulling last night’s situation around in our heads. We had tended to our wounds from the fights as we waited for Sam to wake up. “Alright, we said we’d let the kid sleep as long as he wanted but it’s been long enough.” Joel said impatiently. I looked at Henry who was elevating his leg. He’d twisted his ankle when he was running from the hoard. I stood up, “Ok if I get him?” Henry nodded. I turned and walked towards the door, opening it slowly. Sam was sitting up on the bed, staring vacantly out the window. “Oh, you’re up! Good morning silly goose.” I cooed. He turned towards me and immediately bared his teeth. My stomach dropped. He then jumped up and lunged towards me. I stumbled backwards as his body made impact with mine, and my panicked screams filled the air has I pushed to keep his mouth as far away from me as possible. Joel and Henry jumped up, Joel immediately pointing a gun at Sam, but Henry threatened him. “Then you better fuckin’ do something.” I heard Joel say. Sam continued to attempt to bite me but I kept pushing and kicking as panicked tears streamed down my face, “Sam please!” I begged. I knew he was gone, that he’d been taken over by the cordyceps, but some delusional part of me thought he might’ve been playing and would just snap out of it at any moment. “HENRY.” Joel screamed, and a shot rang out. Sam’s body flew off of mine from the impact of the bullet. I laid there, shaking, unwilling to look at the now lifeless child, and turned my head towards the two men. Henry still held the gun and had a vacant look in his eyes. He first pointed it at Joel, then me while repeating “What did I do?” He continued to aim the gun at me and I shakily raised my hands above my head. “Henry, get the gun off of her.” Joel pleaded in a calming voice, “Just put the gun down, you’ll be okay.” Henry stared for just a moment before turning the gun to his own head. “HENRY, NO!” Joel and I’s voices filled the air before the gun went off one last time. 

           I sat huddled on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees, my eyes flitting between the two bodies. Joel stood with his chest heaving, eyes doing the same as mine. No matter how hard I tried to keep the sobs from escaping my throat, the grief was too powerful. I pressed my hand against my mouth as they came in between desperate heaves. Joel hesitated, but then came to kneel beside me. His hand hovered above my back, and then I felt the warmth of it press against me. I looked up at him, he held that same look of pity in his eyes. 

           I barely knew the man, but I knew that I trusted him. He ensured my safety an uncountable amount of times already. As I sat there on the floor in between the two, sweet, brave, and now dead boys, I needed a shoulder to cry on. Joel was there, though it was stiff and unmoving, it was warm and let me know I wasn’t alone. I sat up off of him and sniffled, “How did we not know he was infected? We should’ve checked.” His hand didn’t leave my back as he remained next to me, “Wouldn’t have changed his fate.” Joel grunted, “N’ Henry would’ve killed himself some other time.” I looked at him through teary eyes, “Why would he do that? In front of us?” I sobbed. Joel pressed his lips together and shifted his eyes to the floor, “Death is less painful than living after losing someone you love.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note:

Thank you for reading!! I'm sorry you had to endure the Henry and Sam heartbreak again :(

Previous Part | Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x female reader #tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #romance #slow burn #tragic #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

[rattkachuk]

i'm sorry. you reblogged the sensory prompts and as i read each of them i got different ideas for mattdrai and most of them were somehow angsty. if you can, 63 with them? pls and thank you <3

ohhh i was on the verge of sleep but then this ask was too tempting to ignore 💖 it is a little angsty, i couldn't help it. but!!! here's a blurb set in a hypothetical oilers/cats scf !!

63. Indigo skies just before dawn

-

Usually, when they were able to share a bed, Matthew slept with his limbs thrown over Leon. An arm across his middle, a leg slotted between his thighs and the other around his hips. All askew and taking up room. Leon always rolled his eyes, but if he was honest, he loved waking in the middle of the night and curling in closer, like it was Matthew’s very arms keeping him safe and together. His own personal weighted blanket.

When he woke up this time, there was a noticeable absence of touch. Leon frowns into the dark, stretching his hand across smooth sheets to find Matthew’s side long cold. A glance at his phone tells him it’s 5AM.

He doesn’t want to get out of bed, knows the air outside his blankets will be cold and unforgiving. The concern wins out, though.

Able to scrounge a hoodie from the floor, he trudges out into the hallway. The bathroom light is on (Matthew always insisted on keeping it on at night), but everything else is dark and quiet.

“Matthew?” Leon says quietly when he finds his familiar shape in the living room, curled up with his knees to his chest on the couch closest to the window. The Edmonton city lights are twinkling stardust in his eyes, “Are you okay?”

“Yah. Sorry, I uh…just couldn’t sleep. Lots going on up here,” Matthew waves to his own head, then holds out his hand to Leon once he’s close enough.

Leon takes it, squeezes gently before sitting down beside him. He taps at Matthew’s calves til he lets his legs lay across his lap—the weight he missed waking to moments earlier.

Matthew sighs, looking back out the window. If Leon sees a shine to them, a flash of wet beneath his eyelids, he wouldn’t bring attention to it. Their emotions are so often guarded, so protected and caged, navigating this pocket of vulnerability with Matthew was something Leon was still getting used to. It gnawed a little worry right into the centre of his ribs, though.

The light in the sky is just starting to shift, deep blue and purple shadows casting onto Matthew’s face. Right here in the dark, just them, it’s easy to imagine there’s nothing greater awaiting them when the sun rises. No huge arena with great expectations, no glory of something they’d both been chasing their whole lives (only to know one of them won’t get there, and it will be the others fault). They were now intertwined in a way that Leon wasn’t sure he liked.

In fact, it made him nauseous to think about.

His life goal was right in front of him, and the only thing standing in his way was breaking the heart of the person he loved the most.

“We’ll get through this, right?” Leon asks, nose screwing up as he looks anywhere else in the room, anywhere but at Matthew beside him. If he does, he's not sure what might spill out.

Matthew’s breath is shaky, and that’s it. Leon prepares himself, braces for impact. The big crash and the limb being ripped away from his body. Instead, “Leo. Of course we will. It’s gonna suck, but we will.”

Leon clears his throat, trying to rid himself of the big lump that was forming there, “Okay. Okay. Good.”

“We have to. Cause I can’t-” Matthew trails off, brushes some of Leon’s sleep mussed hair away from his forehead, “We. Just. You know.”

I can’t imagine life without you. I love you, Leon’s brain supplies. He just nods. Rests his chin in Matthew’s palm and savours the indigo light that blankets them both, “Yah. I know.”

#mattdrai #hrpf #my writing #blurb #angst #hurt/comfort #asks #anon #writing prompts #okeyyyy its one am time for bed for reals now #feel free to send more FDGLDFG #this was funnn #i gotta find some more ask games for this blog omg

[darshy]

pretty, pt. 2

some of the formatting on this is screwed, i know, it’s just a struggle adjusting things on a phone ):

n e way, enjoy!!

Megumi Fushiguro didn’t hate Satoru Gojo—at first. It was more of a simmering annoyance, something bubbling under his skin, threatening to slip out and crash. Nothing too dramatic. Tsumiki liked the man enough so it caused Megumi to tolerate him. 

“After all, he saved us. Imagine where we’d be now without him!”

Before his sister said that, Megumi uttered his first curse word in relation to Gojo.

And, after living with the man for about two months, an anomaly occurred. Typically, Gojo would be absent for about a week. He’d say, “I’m just checking on something!” or “I’ve got a long mission—I’ll be back before you know it!”

Now, he’s been gone for a month.

Not that it really matters; the two siblings have a roof over their head and a surplus of food. It’s not their business to be in Gojo’s business.

It’s not Megumi’s business to be in Gojo’s business. 

There’s a creak in the house at two AM. The only creak in this house is located in the kitchen, right in front of the refrigerator. Megumi only knows this because he was tasked—by Gojo—to find every creak in a building as a survival tactic. Just in case he was kidnapped.

Or, if he wanted to sneak some food in the middle of the night. Doesn’t really matter the situation.

Megumi blinks and attempts to wipe the sleep from his eyes. The sound was minor, could easily pass as a tree scratching a window, but Megumi’s gut is twisting. It couldn’t be Tsumiki, she never gets up at night, and it couldn’t be Gojo because he always arrives back in the mornings.

So who is it?

He waddles to his bedroom door, toes twitching against the cold, wood floors. He presses on the lock, satisfied to hear a gentle click. Then, he pushes the door open. It reveals a dark hallway with several other doors in its walls. Tsumiki is just a few doors down to the left and Gojo’s room is the last room on the right. Megumi’s stomach churns as he looks to Gojo’s door.

‘Ugh, it’s so ominous…’

He pushes through anyway. The floor is smooth against his feet as he slowly makes his way down the house. Just as he reaches the middle of the staircase leading downstairs, he hears a murmur. Alarm rings through his mind and his hands shake.

What should he do? Is this an intruder? Should he leave and take Tsumiki with him? Call Gojo? Fight? His technique isn’t very refined—Gojo has been so busy lately that he wasn’t any help—and he’s never actually fought before. He could call for 911 too…

What should he do?

The murmuring gets louder, more audible. Megumi strains to hear from his spot, frozen, too scared to go up but still too scared to go down.

”M’gon’ kill that—- —watch him choke— -“

Megumi leans closer by holding onto the handrail of the staircase while praying that it doesn’t create a creak of its own.

”..she’s…mine. Mine.

“—Megumi, ah, why are you awake?”

Megumi holds his breath as he stumbles down the stairs. He, surprisingly, doesn’t feel the harsh impact of the ground against his bones. Instead, there’s a feeling of warmth and the smell of a girl. Megumi pulls away immediately. He’s quick to mask his face of fear, and instead, replaces it with a glare and a sneer. “Gojo? Why are you here?”

”Am I not allowed in my own house?” His smile is slow going, just a bit wobbly, and rather empty-looking. 

Megumi jerks back even further. “Are you drunk?”

“A question answered by three other questions,” Gojo says with the bark of a laugh. His breath smells weird. Obviously there’s the stench of alcohol but there’s something else there. Lingering. 

Stinking.

”You smell,” Megumi mutters. Gojo blinks down at him. “You’re stinking up the air,” he says a bit louder while conscious of Tsumiki’s gentle snoring. Gojo grins again.

”And you’re drunk. Why are you drunk? I’ve never seen you drink.”

”Awh! Am I worrying you, Megumi-chan? But don’t worry—I’m an adult, so I can do adult things like this.” Megumi cringes at the honorific and cringes even more so at Gojo’s use of ‘adult.’

”There’s no kind of adult in you.”

”..okay! Time for bed!”

Gojo swipes up Megumi and quickly warps the two into the boy’s bedroom. Megumi’s stomach churns and he wants to puke.

But underneath all the smells of alcohol, there’s a twinge of floral essence. It smells like the shampoo and perfume that Tsumiki uses. It smells like a girl.

Megumi opens his mouth to ask another question but then Gojo is gone.

“Why were you awake last night?” Gojo asks as Megumi pours cereal into a bowl. Tsumiki blinks between the two of them, her mouth full.

”I was thirsty,” Megumi says lowly and glances up to his adopted father. Gojo has dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a bit messy.

“I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” His breath permeates the air; now the aroma of mint and toothpaste. His eyes twinkle and Megumi knows that he saw through the lie.

Change is a constant in life. It’s so much of a constant that Megumi is accustomed to it. A new school, a new bed, a new life…

It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hate change, because he hates change. 

He hates coming home to tiny little curses wriggling about. He hates the new craze in Gojo’s eyes. He hates how the hallways are dark at night. He hates the muffled noise coming from Gojo’s room.

He doesn’t necessarily mind the new smell that tangles with Gojo’s cologne.

He still hates change.

Megumi wakes up at five in the morning. His stomach is killing him. It’s twisting and knotting and spinning.

He moves to the hallway bathroom and is surprised to see the light on, shining beneath the door. Gojo is gone again and Tsumiki never wakes up at night.

”Tsumiki,” he calls gently, holding his stomach. She doesn’t reply.

”Tsumiki, please let me in.”

Silence.

”…Tsumiki?”

There’s a shift of a shadow, a disturbance to the light. Megumi recoils quickly and nearly smacks his head against the picture frame behind him. His stomach rolls.

He decides to use the bathroom downstairs, unnerved.

Tsumiki closes the front door behind them. The heat is nearly unbearable so the siblings scramble to remove their socks and shoes. Soon, they lay against the cool tile floors of the kitchen. Tsumiki is looking at Megumi and Megumi is looking at the ceiling.

”It’s hot,” she groans. Megumi nods in agreement. Both of their faces are flushed feverishly. Megumi wants to take a nap against the tiles so he slowly closes his eyes.

”Hey, wanna get some popsicles?”

Megumi opens his eyes. “Yeah.”

The two stand up. Just as Megumi reaches for his sandals, Tsumiki stops him, “I’ll go—I have the money.” For proof, she takes her pocket in hand and shakes it. Change jingles loudly.

”Huh?”

”I’m gonna go. By myself. Just tell me what you want.”

Megumi’s eyebrow twitches. “But I wanna go too.”

”Just tell me what you want.”

”…fine.” Megumi proceeds to babble about a specific ice cream before Tsumiki takes off. The last words to leave her lips are: “Don’t forget to lock the door!” He dutifully follows—turning three locks until they click—but is then faced by another obstacle: boredom. He doesn’t have homework assigned and he doesn’t really have any chores that needed to be done.

Megumi lays against the tiles again. He sweats, heating the cold surface up, so he slides to another section of the floor. He repeats this three times until there’s dirt and mini pebbles sticking to his cheeks. Tsumiki is not back yet.

The boy makes his way up the stairs and into his room. He can probably find something remotely interesting inside but—oh.

Megumi pauses. His hand that was raised to open the door falls to his side.

Gojo’s room is making noises. It’s scratching and crying, almost like a sound for help. Megumi eyes the door with a tilted head. He takes a step forward and then he hears it.

Pleading.

Megumi’s guts twist and his fingers flex. He’s struggling to breathe and he’s reminded of Tsumiki’s words of “In through your nose and out through your mouth.” It’s not enough.

He staggers backwards. The noises get that much louder with a few more scratches and a few more sobs. Megumi is torn between investigating and leaving.

He chooses to depart. He moves back to the top of the stairs, grasping the handrails so tight they’ll leave marks in his palms.

—but what if this is urgent?

Megumi blinks and squeezes the handrail again and doesn’t take any further steps.

What if they need help?

He turns back to the door. His mind is full of slush and he’s hot and sticky and he just wants Tsumiki to come back with a bag full of popsicles and ice creams.

What if Gojo is hiding something?

He places his hand on the doorknob. He’s shaking. The scratches have subsided but Megumi can clearly hear a sniffle every few seconds.

The knob doesn’t turn. The door is locked.

What is Gojo hiding?

Megumi squats. He presses his face against the floor and peers into the thin crack under Gojo’s door. A single eye and bloodied finger tips stare back at him.

He screams and screams and screams and runs to the bathroom to puke.

Who is Gojo hiding?

”Megumi! I’m back!” Tsumiki calls from the front door. “And guess who I found!” She doesn’t explicitly say who and, unfortunately, the response she receives is silence.

Then, there’s loud crying.

”Ah—Megumi!” Tsumiki hurries up the stairs with Gojo right behind her. The two find Megumi hunched over the toilet, heaving and hacking. Gojo approaches with open arms, a frown on his face. 

“Megumi? What happened?”

Gojo barely grazes Megumi’s shoulder before he’s shoved away. Megumi’s glaring and sobbing. Tsumiki parts her mouth in shock—Gojo tenses up right beside her.

As Tsumiki leans in to coddle her brother, Gojo stands, watching, eyes wide and fists clenching.

What did he see?

Megumi gasps for air as he’s slammed into the fighting mattress. Gojo stands above him, a simple smile on his face. It doesn’t look real.

”I told you to bend your knees more,” Gojo says with a patronizing tone, “If you had, maybe you wouldn’t have fallen.”

That’s a lie. Gojo would have pushed him down anyway, it doesn’t matter how much force he would of had to use.

“I just… I want to learn my technique more,” Megumi says lowly. He claws at a rip in the mattress. Slowly, fluff crawls out of it. Gojo wipes it away with his foot. Megumi huffs.

”To master a technique, you need to learn basic fighting. How else did you think I became this great?” Gojo laughs obnoxiously and Megumi doesn’t feel a tug of his lips or a happy beat of his heart or anything. It’s all been stowed away since he discovered the person trapped in Gojo’s room. If that’s even a person.

Obviously, Megumi has attempted to open Gojo’s room for a while yet. The time windows have been small, unfortunately. Gojo has stayed home for a while now—the scheduling of his missions have gotten more and more bleak. As if the higher ups don’t need him. As if there are less and less curses.

That will never be true.

And besides, Megumi shouldn’t be so worried about it anyway. He could just be seeing things, or it’s some kind a curse that Gojo just wants to specifically torture. (And, even at that, Megumi’s not sure if the thing is being tortured. He’s not even sure as to what happens in that room.)

”—despite the challenges, which you’ll go through by the way, you’ll always come out on top because you have me, Megumi! Oh, and… Hey! Are you listening?”

”No,” Megumi replies before he spots a fist coming right for his forehead.

Megumi watches the two dogs zip around each other. They nip and preen and jump and yap. Their furs brush and mix and it’s pretty to look at.

Tsumiki watches too. She sits next to Megumi, playing in the grass with her toes. Leaves are falling and snow will be arriving soon, but Tsumiki is comfortable going around barefoot and wearing shorts and a tank top.

“Is it a lot of work?” she asks, “To make them play, I mean.”

Megumi shrugs. The dogs freeze for a second, a moment of stillness, but then they’re back to enjoying life.

“Well—at least it’s nice to see.”

Megumi agrees. He doesn’t say that aloud.

Gojo has a girlfriend. She smells a little like Tsumiki.

She’s sitting next to him at the table, hands in her lap, head swirled in his direction. Tsumiki admires her a lot. Megumi shifts uncomfortably in his seat as Gojo spoon feeds her. Under the blindfold, Megumi can imagine the heart eyes.

Later, the couple settle onto the couch, deciding to watch a movie. Tsumiki and Megumi are instructed to go to bed.

”Megumi…!” Tsumiki hisses when Megumi stops at the top of the stairs. “Gojo told us to go to sleep. I don’t want to be in trouble because you’re caught watching TV!”

”She’s wearing gloves, Tsumiki.”

”Huh?”

”She’s wearing gloves inside.”

”Well it’s fall and maybe she runs cold,” Tsumiki says, leaning against a nearby wall. “Or, maybe, she doesn’t have her nails done.” Tsumiki sighs dreamily. “She really is perfect.”

Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Ew.” He turns back to look down the staircase. 

Gojo’s standing there, hands on his hips. His lips are puckered in a pouting way. “I said go to bed!!”

Tsumiki laughs.

Megumi’s up in the dead of night.

He makes his way to Gojo’s room with expectations of the sounds of creaking and moaning and crying.

There’s nothing—even as he crouches to peer under the crack of the door, whispering back, promising to help this time.

There’s nothing but faint scratch marks on the floor.

The girlfriend—you—has been around more often. Sometimes it’s babysitting while Gojo is gone (which, by the way, the siblings have never had a babysitter before, as per Gojo’s terrible parenting skills), but most of the time it’s while Gojo is around. The two of you stay in the bedroom for a majority of the visit, so Tsumiki clings to Megumi until you come out.

Currently, this is a babysitting scenario. Gojo’s been gone for two weeks and you’ve been doing your due diligence for the kids. Cooking, cleaning, and playing house seem to be your specialty.

”You’d be a great mom,” Tsumiki says. Megumi physically flinches and you pause your mindless surfing on the TV. You’re still wearing gloves.

“Oh, you think?” you ask rather awkwardly. Tsumiki nods.

”I’m just waiting for the day Gojo proposes.”

Megumi pops his mouth open, to tell Tsumiki to knock it off or something but then she stands up and announces that she will grab some snacks.

Megumi’s eyes immediately find yours after that. “I’m sorry. I…don’t know why she said that.” He feels miffed.

”It’s okay,” you smile gently. It appears that you want to say more but then stop. You curl into the side of the couch, on the complete opposite side of Megumi. You look almost sad, like something is missing in your eyes.

”You don’t have to stay here, you know,” Megumi says and you blink up at him. “I know that Gojo can be a bit pushy—“ he’s under exaggerating— “but he can’t boss you around or anything. You guys haven’t known each other for that long, right?”

Your lips part and just like before, you stop. It’s frustrating watching you pause and struggle by simply not saying what you want to say. Then it’s awkward when your eyes dart up to the clock, waiting for your cue to shout I should head home now!

And just as Megumi gives up, slinking into his side of the couch, face pressed against the armrest, you talk.

”Satoru told me what you guys have been through—so don’t think I’m upset about Tsumiki. I honestly thought it was kinda funny.” You grin a little and Megumi pouts back.

”She still shouldn’t have said that.”

”It’s whatever.” You shrug but still grin and there’s a sparkle in your eyes that is similar to Tsumiki’s. Oh. That’s what was missing in you. That’s probably what made Gojo fall for you.

You’re really nice looking.

Megumi’s face warms. He distracts himself by looking at your gloved hands. Like clockwork, you hide them in your lap, with an uncomfortable look on your face.

”I’ve, um, known Satoru my whole life,” you blurt. Megumi realizes that you don’t want him to question the gloves. “He would visit the US during his holidays and he would find me.”

Megumi leans in and curiously questions, “Find you?”

”Because he wanted me—us—to live here, in Japan, together,” you say and the sparkle leaves your eyes. You’re not so pretty anymore. “And guess what happened.”

You and Gojo must have broken up. The teacher has been disturbed lately. He screams and breaks everything in his sight and he almost appears to lose control. (Of course, this is while the kids are—supposedly—sleeping. He wouldn’t dare show unruly behavior to growing and easily-influenced children!)

Thankfully, he doesn’t lose control, less Megumi be six feet underground.

And Megumi isn’t sad. Your absence doesn’t make his heart heavy. Doesn’t make him want to cry and throw things too because that’s how Gojo does it and Megumi isn’t him. Megumi is simply Megumi. He doesn’t want you back like Gojo does. He’d just appreciate it if you visited once in a while. It would help the broken plates. It would help with the increased amount of curses.

“Sensei.”

”Sensei.”

”No Megumi! Sensei.” Gojo corrects.

”That’s what I’m saying!” Megumi groans. “It’s not like I’ve never said this before. I literally go to school, Gojo.”

”You mean sensei,” Gojo says with a sly smile. Megumi groans again.

He’s growing up. It feels slow, like each day is dragging by. It doesn’t help that Tsumiki has fallen ill, even to the point of bedriddenness. But it’s okay. Because Megumi is growing and he’s going to fix her.

He’s going to fix everything.

“Geto Suguru.” Megumi looks up to his soon-to-be teacher. “You knew him?”

Gojo shifts uncomfortably. “He was my best friend! And now I have to kill him.”

”Oh,” Megumi utters because there’s nothing else to say. He looks back down to the sheet. He squints at a near familiar name. Shoko Ieiri. Megumi taps the small picture of her. Gojo grins.

”Another friend. I don’t have to kill her.”

”Oh,” he utters again, because there’s still nothing to say.

Just before school starts, just before Gojo officially becomes Megumi’s teacher, you’re back. Standing in a pretty outfit, beaming at the two from inside Gojo’s home. Megumi stiffens and attempts to meet Gojo’s eyes. His attempts are ignored in favor of you, however.

The two make it inside. They’re sweating, at least Megumi is, from the relentless practice. And he wants to ask what you’re doing here. Why you’ve shown up out of the blue in a pretty outfit, smelling a bit like Tsumiki and not wearing gloves at all. 

He’s going to ask but then you place food in front of the two and Megumi can’t say no to this.

So he eats. 

There’s comfortable conversation for you and Gojo. It’s weird not having Tsumiki sitting next to him, whispering, prying. She would be waiting for you to finish. She’d wait and wait and wait.

Megumi keeps eating. His mind feels like it’s running a little slow.

”Of course I would, Satoru… Why do you think I’m here?” You say while smiling. It looks weird.

”For me.” Gojo’s smiling too. His is easier to decode than yours. It’s a simple cypher: right corner of his mouth is a bit down and his front teeth are gnawing into the flesh. He’s not upset but maybe a bit annoyed at… something. Megumi’s not so sure. The teacher always carries a look like that when Megumi misplaces his foot. Or when the teen is up at night, creeping into the halls.

Just as Megumi’s head droops, his forehead hovering right above the countertop, he hears you gasp. Blearily, he looks to his two elders. Gojo’s hand is clutched around a wrist you’re attempting to tug back. The teacher’s face is bright red with his glasses slipping down his nose sloppily. “Satoru…!” you whine and pull back.

It’s terrifying how quickly Gojo leaps across the counter to get to you.

Megumi closes his eyes.

Itadori is a mess. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even be alive.

He shouldn’t be in Megumi’s dorm room, but he is, and he’s poking and prodding around. He says things like: “Woah Fushiguro!! What is this?!” and it’s a book about psychology. When Itadori began to open Megumi’s drawers, a pillow was thrown to his head.

“Ahhh Fushiguro, your room is so clean… Where’s all the posters?” Itadori asks. He’s peering over Megumi’s shoulder. Math homework peer right back at him.

”What posters?” Megumi attempts to shrug the other away. Itadori stays and gestures around the room. “You know, like, really hot girls in bikinis! And big butts! Like Jennifer Lawrence.”

Megumi’s face turns red. “Hell no!” And he finally swats Itadori away.

Megumi resumes his work for a few minutes longer before looking over to Itadori. He’s, again, snooping around. Megumi’s eyebrow ticks. “Put that down.” Itadori’s holding a picture frame before flipping it to green eyes. ”Who is this? Your mom or something?”

Soon-to-be. Right. Gojo and you are engaged. Have been for about a month. The wedding will happen in about three weeks from now.

Feigning boredom, Megumi looks back to his papers. “Gojo-sensei hasn’t told you about her yet? I figured he would blab about her every second he could,” he mutters. Itadori appears a bit skittish after hearing that.

”I mean, he talks about his fiancée…”

”Yeah.”

”Oh… OH!” Itadori jumps up and Megumi can practically see the cogwheels turning in his head. “So she will be your mom! Wow, okay!” Itadori turns back to the picture frame. Suddenly, a mouth manifests out of Itadori’s cheek and laughs.

”I’m sure she’ll make a great meal!”

Megumi barely suppresses the punch heading for Itadori’s face.

A runaway bride is what you are. Fleeing the night before the wedding.

Gojo has held a stifling quiet for the past 32 hours. His eyes are dull. Megumi wants to reach out and offer some sort of comfort. Instead, he says simply, “It’s probably just some misunderstanding.”

Gojo doesn’t look up. Doesn’t react, doesn’t move, and Megumi would think that he were dead if not for the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

”I’m tired of her running away,” Gojo says after a pregnant pause. “I know what she wants and she knows what I want. It’s not like I’m going to kill her.”

Megumi’s stomach rolls and it reminds him of being a kid, sneaking around and trying to get into Gojo’s room because he thinks someone’s trapped in there. It’s silly, looking back on it, but his stomach is rolling all the same again.

He makes his way back to the school. He dreams of his warm bed and warm shower and warm clothes. He’s tired of the fighting. He’s tired of Tsumiki not waking up and nagging him. He’s tired of the looks of his friends, each exhausted and on the brink of death after each mission. He’s tired of it all.

As Megumi passes a local store, he smells something like Tsumiki. Floral-ish, like flowers, like how most girls smell. It smells nice and comforting and like you.

He turns to the store. His heart seems to stop in his chest and his mouth dries.

You notice him back. Your eyes lock with wide green ones.

Megumi is right in front of you in half a second. His arms are stretched wide, a hugging gesture, but you don’t take it. You shuffle, holding a wrinkled bag in your hands. Megumi drops his arms.

”Hi,” he whispers. He doesn’t know if you’re real or if it’s just the hysteria creeping into him. He wants to touch and feel, maybe poke and prod while he’s at it. You look like you, but are you really? You smell like you, but is this fake lying?

”Hi Megumi,” you whisper back and Megumi hugs you. You’re stiff (and you shouldn’t be) but you manage to wrap your arms around his middle. Your hair tickles his mouth and he just hugs you closer.

”I missed you so much,” he says into the top of your head. He pauses for a moment to inhale. You tense up like you’re waiting for bad news—and for good reason. Gojo-sensei has been in his quiet, anger mood for far too long. Megumi can’t wait for it to end.

“We want you back home.” He inhales your scent again. Sweet. Comforting. Home.

”I know,” you say into his jacket. (Despair.)

#x reader #female reader #24 #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru

[domripley]

Anything That Can Go Wrong

pairing: finn balor x damian priest x reader

warnings: noncon, dark finn, dark damian, oral sex (m receiving), begging, face slapping, choking, crying, tear licking, bisexual finn, bisexual damian, switch finn, forced creampies, mocking, victim blaming, blackmail, piss kink

summary: everything's been going wrong lately, it's about to get a lot worse.

gif credit | edited by my lovely girlfriend @specialinterestshows 🥰

You let out a groan in frustration - your car had just broken down in the middle of nowhere. You had decided to take a trip to see your best friend after a very unlucky week. Having moved four hours away from them, you wanted to give them a nice surprise. It was something you were excited for, but it looked like your bad luck was following you once more. Hitting your steering wheel in frustration, making your horn go off, you felt like crying. If getting fired from your job wasn’t, then this was it - this was the worst thing that could happen. You reach for your phone that had fallen to the floor while you were driving.

When you had it, you tried to unlock it, but the screen wouldn’t budge. You threw it back onto the ground after realizing it was dead. You were having even worse luck and, for a minute, all you wanted was to know what you did to deserve all of this shit. You grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car. Soon, it was going to be too dark to be out here all alone, and you needed to get to a pay phone to call your friend as soon as you could. You were in the middle of nowhere and an hour and a half away from where you needed to be.

But as long as you got into town to make a call to your friend, you could worry about your car later. All you wanted to do was sleep and you knew you were going to get the best sleep of your life once your friend would come pick you up.

“Fuck!” you yelled, thinking of your trek ahead as you shut your car door. Making sure it was locked, you walked down the road.

You wanted to cry, but you weren’t sure if it was from the stress or because you were tired… or both. You just knew you needed to walk fast, needing much more time to walk than you would to drive. After what felt like twenty minutes of walking, you sat down on the grass. Pulling your water bottle out of your bag, you took a few sips before putting it back. It wasn’t too hot out, thankfully. You stood and continued to walk down the road, a little faster now that your car was out of your sight. You had no clue what time it was and how far you had already gone, but the sun was slowly going down.

As you stopped for another drink, a van pulled up to you.

“Hey, are you okay? We were driving and saw an abandoned car. Is that yours?” one of the men inside asked once he rolled his window down, making you freeze.

You couldn’t contain your relief. “Yes! Yes, that’s my car! I- do you think you can give me a ride into town please? I can give you gas money, that’s not a problem,” you suggested, causing the two men to look at each other.

“Yeah, we can help you, but you don’t have to give us gas money, really,” one of them said as he opened the van door and got out. “I’m Finn, and this is my boyfriend, Damian. Come on, you can sit between us. That seat’s a lot more comfortable than the seat I was sitting in.”

You got in without a second thought - you were just so happy and relieved that they were willing to help you out. Once you got in and Finn followed suit, Damian began to drive once more. It was quiet and it began to feel awkward. You bit your lip, telling yourself that it wasn’t going to be that long of a car ride and that it would be over soon. You were safe, so why were you beginning to feel uncomfortable? An hour into the ride, Damian spoke up.

“You headed home from work?” Damian asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

You shook your head, “No, I was on my way to surprise my friend that I hadn’t seen in a long time, but then my car broke down.”

You were too focused on looking at the road to notice the look Finn gave you. Damian continued to drive as the van got quiet again. After five minutes, Finn was the one to speak up this time.

“So… no one knows you’re here?” he asked.

You finally took your eyes off the road, turning to look at Finn. You were confused as to why he was asking that, but you decided not to question it - chalking it up to them just being curious.

“Yeah, no. Well, my family knows but it was supposed to be a surprise for my friend, Liv,” you admit, still not thinking anything of the specific questions, “Turn right up here.”

When Damian turned left, you were quick to point it out. “Hey, you turned left, I said right. I don’t think you heard me.”

What you said made Damian laugh, “Oh, I heard you loud and clear.”

“Wait. Wh-” you began, but Finn cut you off by grabbing you by your neck.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to accept rides from strangers when you were a kid?” Finn teased as Damian stopped off the side of the road.

He parked and turned off the car, then turned to look at you, a smile plastered on his face. “You’re such a pretty little thing. We never got your name.”

You stayed quiet, watching as he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his body so he was facing you fully. Finn unbuckled himself and then you, causing you to jump.

Finn moved you so you were completely facing Damian, running his fingers against your neck as Damian continued to stare at you. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you knew you needed to get out of this.

You shook your head. “Please let me-” you tried to plead, but Damian slapped you across the face as hard as he could. Whimpering, you grabbed your cheek.

“We helped you with a ride, so you’re going to return the favor,” Finn whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe. You leaned forward, trying to get away from Finn’s touch, only to be pulled into Damian’s as he grabbed you by your chin.

“I offered you money and you said that it was okay! That I didn’t have to pay you!” you shouted, causing Damian to shove two fingers into your mouth with his free hand.

“Yeah, you didn’t have to pay us with money,” he agreed, “But you have other ways of paying for the good deed we did…”

Damian continued to fuck your mouth with his fingers, not wanting to hear any pathetic attempt to get them to let you go - but he knew Finn wanted to hear them. Reluctantly, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth after one final push into the back of your throat, making you gag.

“Please… please just let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can have all my money and my credit cards - everything. Please just let me go,” you begged.

Damian chuckled, “I’ll tell you what, sweet thing: if you suck my cock all nice and pretty, and you make me come, we’ll let you go right after.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. “How do I know you’re going to let me go right after?”

“You have our word. Right, babe?” Damian asked, watching as Finn leaned in and kissed your neck.

“Right,” Finn agreed, “All you’ve got to do is suck his cock like a good girl and we’ll let you go. We’re telling the truth, you have to believe us.”

”But-“ you began before Damian cut you off again.

”We helped you out, and now you’re going to help us out,” he smirked.

”U-us? You said I only had to suck your cock. Come on, just let me go!” you whimpered.

Damian shook his head. “What’s not clicking with you? We’re not letting you go until you suck my cock and if you must know, my boyfriend prefers to watch when a pretty girl is getting me off.”

You sighed, realizing that you weren’t going to get out of this without doing what they wanted you to do. When Damian let go of your chin finally, you hung your head.

”Fine… I’ll do it,” you whispered.

Finn laughed in your ear, “Louder, princess, I don’t think he heard you.”

“I’ll suck your cock,” you said, louder this time.

You watched as Damian brought his hands down to his pants and took his time unbuckling his belt. You wanted to get it over with and try to forget about this interaction as quickly as you could. You were planning on keeping your word, not wanting to tell anyone what was about to happen. But as Damian pulled his pants down to his knees, and you saw how hard he already was, you began to panic.

“Well? Get to it. Take my cock out and use that pretty little mouth on me.” Damian pushed, but when you hesitated, he huffed impatiently. “Fine. You wanna be like that?”

Grabbing you by your hair, Damian brought your face down to his clothed cock. “Go on. Do I have to take my cock out for you too?” he groaned, but you shook your head as best as you could with him still holding you by your hair.

You brought your hand up to his boxers, pulling them down as best as you could with one hand. Damian let go of your hair, shaking his head. “Let’s move her to the back, we’ll have more room there,” Damian said.

Finn nodded, turning to open his door. Grabbing you, he forcibly pulled you out of the car as Damian got out. This was your chance - you needed to try and get away. You brought your head back, connecting with Finn’s face as he let you go.

“Fucking hell!” He screamed, grabbing his face as you took off running.

Suddenly, Damian appeared out of what seemed nowhere and grabbed you. “Are you that fucking stupid? We were going to let you go once you did this, but now? No. Finn, open the door,” he snapped, and as Finn got to the van, Damian grabbed you by the throat, “You do that again and you’re done. Do you understand?!”

“Just let me go!” you cried out as Finn opened the van doors, “No! Stop! Let me go!”

Damian threw you into the back of the van, not caring how rough he was being. He was angry and you knew you had fucked up. Getting in the van after throwing you in it, he pulled his boxers down, kicking both his pants and underwear off so he could move around more. He wasn’t wasting any time anymore, grabbing you by your hair and forcing you onto his cock.

“You bite my cock and I’ll cut your tongue off, do you understand me?” he snapped, pulling you off him. Slapping you across the face, he asked once more. “Do you?”

You didn’t answer, not wanting to give him any satisfaction, but that only made him angrier. Slapping you again, he snapped, “If you’re not going to answer me, I’m just going to fuck your ass.”

“No, no, no, please, I won’t bite your cock, I promise,” you cried, tearing up.

Finn groaned, his shirt bloody, and you knew you had broken his nose. “C’mon, let me have her first, Dam. She broke my nose!”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Fine, but if you think I’m just going to sit and watch, you’re wrong.”

Finn glared at him, but decided against saying anything in return. You turned your head to watch as Finn got into the back of the van. “Can you take her clothes off? I don’t need her to suck my cock,” Finn said, and Damian nodded.

Damian grabbed you by your shirt, pulling it off quickly, not giving you any time to fight him. You began to struggle again and Damian grabbed his pants, pulling out a pocket knife from one of his pockets. Opening it, he threatened through gritted teeth, “Am I going to have to use this on you? Because it sure would be a waste of a pretty little fleshlight…”

You stopped struggling, earning a smile from Damian. “Good girl,” he praised, making you sick to your stomach with disgust.

”Don’t call me that,” you snapped.

“You’re in no position to be making any demands, dumb whore. You’re ours for now and you’ll be called whatever we want to call you,” Finn snapped as he pulled his pants and underwear off, “Fuck, you really fucked my nose up but it made my cock so fuckin’ hard. Maybe if you’re good, Damian will fuck me in front of you before we send you off?”

You shook your head, “I want to go home.”

”Yeah, we noticed. Now get on your back for me,” Finn pushed.

When you didn’t budge, Damian pushed you down onto your back.

”You really think we won’t just force you, huh?” Damian asked.

Finn pulled your shorts off you, but he left your underwear on. Finn forced your legs apart, biting his lip as he looked down to see the wet spot on your underwear. “You know,” Finn began, grabbing the base of his cock and slapping it on your clothed pussy, “For someone who’s begging to go home and telling us ‘no’, you sure are soaked. Dam, babe, you’ve got to look. You see that?”

Damian leaned over you, looking at where Finn was pointing at. “Shit, she is wet. You know what that means?” he asked you.

You shook your head in response.

”It means you want this,” Damian concluded, bringing the pocket knife to your bra, “You’re giving us your consent.”

You shook your head, “No! I don’t want this, please!”

Finn pushed your underwear to the side, shaking his head with a smile plastered on his face. “You’re so pathetic,” he breathed, rubbing the tip of his cock roughly against your clit, “God, your cunt’s fucking wet.”

He lined his cock up with your entrance, but stopped himself. Pulling away and pulling your underwear off, he threw them where your shorts were. Lining himself up, he breathed, “Tell me you want this and maybe I’ll be nice and gentle with you.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want him to hurt you and his cock was thicker than what you were used to. “I-I want it. Please fuck me.”

Finn smirked, “You really are too trusting. I lied.”

Before you could process what he had said, Finn roughly pushed himself inside of you. Bottoming out, he laughed as you cried out in pain. “Scream all you want, baby - no one’s going to hear you.”

“Fuck, your cock look so good going in and out of her,” Damian groaned, gripping his own and stroking it slowly. He would never admit just how much he enjoyed watching Finn fuck you. Sitting back comfortably, he decided he wanted to keep watching before joining.

”How does she feel, baby?” Damian asked, biting his lip as Finn wrapped his hand around your throat, ignoring your whimpering.

“So fucking tight and when I choke her a bit, she squeezes my cock - but if she keeps that up, I’m going to come already,” Finn moaned, letting go of your neck.

“I’ve got to piss,” Damian sighed, moving so he was on his knees.

You turned to look at him, thinking he was going to go outside. Instead, he moved closer to your face and looked down at you with a knowing smile. “Close your eyes, pretty girl; you’re not going to want to get my piss in them.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and as he began to piss on you, you started crying. The warm liquid landed on your face, but ran down your neck. You felt gross, your stomach turning in disgust as Finn continued to fuck you.

“Such a pretty toilet,” Damian praised, “Say ‘thank you, Daddy, thank you for using me as a toilet’.”

While he waited for your response, he turned to grab a bag that was behind him. “Well?” he asked, opening the bag and pulling out a pair of handcuffs, “Stop fucking her and put these on her.”

Damian handed the handcuffs to Finn, and Finn did what he was told. You tried to fight him off, but Damian grabbed your arms and held them in place. “You’re really starting to fucking annoy me, you know that? Why can’t you just be a good little fleshlight and let us do what we want with you? You’re making things so much more difficult than they need to be and it’s getting real old, real fast.”

Finn finally put the handcuffs on you, making sure they were on tight before he picked his pace up again. “Fuck, she looks so fucking good with your piss all over her face and chest. Such a pretty toilet.”

He resumed his pace, bringing his hand down to rub at your clit, making you whimper. Damian chuckled, “Yeah? That feel good?”

You shook your head, biting your lip hard as Damian wrapped his hand around your throat once he sat back down. “You must be having a good time; you’re not struggling as much, huh? So pathetic.”

You began to struggle against both Finn and Damian, not wanting to allow them to call you pathetic. Of course, you couldn’t do much; you were handcuffed and they were both holding you down. Damian squeezed your neck hard. “Stop fucking struggling, or I’ll keep going and you won’t be breathing any more, I promise you that.”

You stopped struggling, earning a smile from Damian. Caressing your cheek, he whispered, “Such a good girl. I love feeling how sticky your cheek is, makes me want to piss on you some more.”

Damian let go of your neck and reached down, taking one of your nipples between his fingers. You cried out when Damian pinched it as hard as he could. Shaking your head, you felt an orgasm start to build. You didn’t want this - you didn’t want to come, but your body was betraying you.

“She’s squeezing my cock again. I think she’s about to come, Dam,” Finn moaned, watching his boyfriend’s fingers play with your nipples, “Pull ‘em again, harder this time.”

Damian did as Finn suggested, pulling as hard as he could. You came with a cry, grinding on Finn’s cock without realizing it as you rode out your high. Finn watched as you did, licking his lips as he realized that his own orgasm was approaching as well. Then he pulled out of you, stroking his cock fast, and came on your pussy.

“You’re going to like her cunt,” Finn sighed, trying to catch his breath, “Switch spots with me.”

Damian nodded, moving around you as Finn did the same. Unlike Finn, Damian didn’t waste any time. Lining the tip of his cock to your entrance, he pushed in. You cried out, his cock was stretching you out more than Finn’s did.

He began to fuck you at a bruising pace, not bothering to give you time to adjust to him. “You weren’t joking, she’s so fucking wet. Feels so fucking good,” Damian chuckled, pushing your legs apart so he had a better view of his cock going in and out of your pussy. “Grab your phone, I want you to take some pictures, want to be able to look back at this moment and remember how good we fucked her.”

You shook your head as Finn got out of the back of the van. “Please, no! Don’t take any photos of me like this.”

”Please no. Don’t take any photos of me,” Damian mocked, fucking you harder, “It’s also going to be our insurance. If you try to tell anyone, we’ll be posting everything we take on the internet.”

You began to cry again, unsure of when you had stopped. Damian stopped fucking you, leaning down and running his tongue from your chin up to below your eye. Pulling back, Damian hummed. “Your tears taste so good mixed in with my dried up piss.”

When Finn got back into the van, he handed the phone to Damian. “Can you pull out and let me do something really quick, Dam?”

Damian gave him an odd look, but soon realized what Finn wanted to do. “Fuck, yeah, c’mere and use our pretty little toilet.”

Damian moved out of the way, stroking his cock as Finn pushed the tip of his cock into your pussy. “Gonna fill you up with my piss and you’re going to try and hold it until Damian starts fucking you, do you understand?”

You shook your head again. “That’s no-” you began, but as Finn began to piss inside of you, you stopped talking. Damian opened the camera on Finn’s phone and began to record. You bit your lip, trying your best to stay still, but some of his piss began to leak out of you. When Finn pulled out quickly, you clenched around nothing, trying to hold in as much of his piss as you could. You all knew you would fail at this, but that didn’t stop Damian from teasing you.

“Aw, poor baby,” Damian pouted, “You’ve made such a mess in our van. Such a bad girl.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to make a mess. I’m sorry,” you began.

“You’re going to be sorry, baby. Now, should I fuck your ass because you’ve made such a mess? We can’t trust this cunt of yours,” Damian sighed, contemplating as you try to close your legs.

Damian pushed your legs apart roughly, and you brought your hands down to try and pry his off your thighs. Your hands were still in handcuffs, making it more difficult for you to use all your strength. Finn grabbed your hands, pulling them back over your head.

“You’re lucky I want to fuck your cunt,” Damian commented, “Watching my boyfriend fuck you and piss inside you has made me painfully hard and I don’t have time for anal.”

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed into you once more. You tried your best to focus on the fact that he was rushing, that you would be with your friend soon and you were going to be safe. You were going to keep your word - you were going to keep this to yourself and you weren’t going to tell a soul.

“Fuck,” Damian groaned, “You feel so fucking good.”

You opened your eyes, staring up at the van’s ceiling as Damian continued to fuck you. You were imagining yourself in a better place, hoping that that would get you through it. Damian noticed fairly quickly, but didn’t bother trying to get you to focus on him; he was close and he was going to make sure that you’d remember both Finn and himself forever. Finn began to take a few pictures of your face, tits, and Damian’s cock going in and out of you. You shook your head, realizing you were still being fucked by Damian.

“Fuck, gonna come,” Damian moaned.

You weren’t sure how long he had been fucking you, but you shook your head, realizing that he wasn’t pulling out like Finn had. He was fucking you at a much rougher pace than before, and when he stilled his movements, he came with a groan. “Fuckin’ hell,” he sighed, pulling out of you, “That was really, really fun.”

Finn cleared his throat, giving Damian a knowing look.

“What is it, baby?” Damian asked, grabbing your shirt and handing it to you.

“You uh… you said I could clean you off whenever we did this,” Finn said, biting his lip, his face heating up with embarrassment.

Damian licked his lips. “I’ll let you later, how about that?” Damian asked, trying to move you along.

Finn rolled his eyes. “It's not the same, babe,” he whined.

“Grab your clothes and go,” Damian told you, ignoring Finn’s complaining. You cried out as Damian grabbed you by your neck. “But remember, we have photos and videos of you and if you try to tell anyone, it will be sent to every single person that you love. Do you understand? Hm?”

You held onto your clothes as tight as you could, trying your best to nod in agreement. Damian let go of your neck, allowing you to answer his question. “I-I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good girl. Now get dressed and go where you need to go - we won’t follow you,” Finn said.

You gave him a suspicious look, not believing a word he said. Finn put his hands up in defense. “Honestly, we’ve got things to do and you’ve paid off our good deed anyway. What more do we need?” Finn stated, but it sounded more like a question to you.

You didn’t say anything in response, but quickly put your close on. You got out of the van faster than you had expected, fearing they might suddenly change their minds about letting you go.

You quickly walked down the road, heading for town, not hearing what Finn began to say. “Are we really letting her go? Just like that, Dam?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“You must not know me. I want to see this friend of hers. Maybe we can pay them a visit tonight?” Damian suggested, watching as Finn pulled his pants back up.

“First I need to get my fucking nose checked out. She broke it and it fucking hurts,” Finn groaned.

Damian nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

You weren’t sure if you would ever surprise your friend again after this, but you had no idea what awaited you later that night.

#my writing #mine #dark au #dark boyfriends #dark damian #dark finn

[wheels-of-despair]

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: You and Ralph venture out of your cabin! Words: 1.3k

You wake to the sound of angry whispers.

"It's not proper!"

"Those kids have been through Hell together!"

"They're not married!"

Ralph's eyes open. You hold your breath and listen closely, watching each other beneath the covers and not daring to move a muscle.

"And?"

"And it's despicable! Having to share a room with… with…"

"With my niece, and the boy who saved her life?"

"I thought you said his sister was on board! Send him there, or back to the lounge!"

"My girl wouldn't leave that boy to get on a boat and save her own life, and you think she's going to let him go because you said so?"

A proud smile spreads across your face. You knew Aunt Molly would always be on your side.

"Ugh!" The other woman groans in frustration, and you hear the door open.

"If you think for one minute that I'm--" Molly shuts the door, and your eavesdropping is abruptly cut off.

"She's got it wrong," Ralph whispers. "You're the one who saved me."

"Aunt Molly is never wrong," you smile.

"Then perhaps we'll have to agree to disagree."

"That won't do," you argue, reaching out to cup the side of his face. "Because we saved each other."

You're already close, but you both move your faces forward just a tiny bit for a kiss.

The door closes again.

"Food's here, kids! I let you sleep through dinner last night, but I draw the line at missing breakfast."

Aunt Molly sits on her bed and tells you about how the other survivors are being treated by the generous crew and passengers of the Carpathia while you eat, but you find it hard to concentrate. You do notice that she makes no mention of the argument with her roommate… whose few possessions have disappeared.

Molly leaves again when you've finished eating, and you and Ralph return to bed. You've never been so exhausted in your life. You're grateful for your tiny bed, and the boy you're sharing it with.

There are no windows in your cabin. The only marker of time is whispered words on well-timed bouts of consciousness with Ralph. You remember getting up to eat once more, and to visit the lavatory. You have a vague memory of Molly suggesting that you switch beds, now that Hettie had found other accommodations, and guiding you and Ralph to the slightly larger mattress.

You'd continue to sleep inches apart anyhow.

"Should we go find Victoria?" you ask, during one of those rare occasions you're both awake at the same time.

"No," Ralph sighs. "I don't want to see her."

"I don't want to see anyone but you," you breathe.

"Likewise," he says.

And then you both drift off again.

"I can't stop dreaming about it," Ralph admits another time.

You know exactly what he's talking about. It haunts you too.

"What would you like to dream about?" you ask.

"You," he answers.

"Perhaps if we concentrate on happier things, we'll dream about them?"

"It's worth a try," Ralph sighs. "I want to see snow. Real snow, not just a flurry. I want to be in a warm house, with you, looking out the window at the falling snow. At Christmastime."

"That sounds wonderful," you smile, closing your eyes and trying to picture it. "I'll make us hot cocoa... we can bake cookies… maybe it'll be so hot, we'll have to take our clothes off…"

"Mm…" Ralph hums.

You both drift off again, hoping to experience the romantic scene you've set instead of the horrifying vision of the sea swallowing an unsinkable ship.

It's not until after dinner, delivered by Molly, that you feel truly awake again. Your aches have subsided. Your brain isn't foggy anymore. Your body still wants to remain in bed, however, so you lie there on your back next to Ralph, looking at the ceiling.

"I think I'll enjoy being on solid ground again," you muse.

Ralph doesn't respond. You turn your head to see a worried expression on his face.

"Ralph? Are you alright?"

"Do you still want to marry me?

His question makes your heart stop. Is he having second thoughts? You turn your gaze back to the ceiling, rather than stare at him in fear.

"Of course I do, Ralph. Do you still want to marry me?"

"Absolutely, but… do you think your parents will allow it?"

"I'd like to see them try and stop us," you respond without even having to think about it.

Ralph looks taken aback by your comment.

"I love you, Ralph Penbury," you smile, squeezing his hand and gazing at him in adoration. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whether it's an hour or a lifetime, I want it to be with you. And I don't give a damn what anyone else has to say about it."

Ralph's eyes begin to water. He leans over for a kiss. It starts sweet, but soon turns desperate. Passionate. Something you haven't felt up to in days.

"I'm so happy I met you," he breathes.

"So am I," you smile, cupping his jaw and staring into his beautiful eyes. You can't imagine spending another day without him.

"Let's do it," you suggest.

"Do what?"

"Let's get married."

"Have we not just established we're going to?" he asks.

"Now."

"Now?"

"Let's get married now," you clarify. "They can't object if it's already done."

"Do you mean it?"

You nod.

"But… weddings take months to plan."

"Do you want to wait months, Ralph?"

His brow furrows, and you can see him weighing his options.

"You'd be willing to forego the dress, and the flowers, and the church? Your family being present? All those traditions? For me?"

"I don't need any of that, Ralph," you smile. "All I need is you."

"Are you sure?"

"Ralph, please don't think that I'm trying to pressure you into this. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. We're both tired and hazy still. If you want to--"

"No," he interrupts. "Are you sure you want me?"

The unsure look on his face pains you. How can he not see that he's your entire world? You lean forward for a deep kiss.

"Now who's mad?" you ask, pulling back with a smile. You cradle his face in your hands. "Of course I want you, Ralph. You're the only one I've ever wanted. And I'll still want you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. We don't have to do this now, if you're not ready. I'll wait forever for you."

Ralph stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

"I love you," he says, leaning over to pepper your face with kisses.

"I love you too, Ralph," you giggle, lying helplessly under his attack.

"Well, my love, shall we find ourselves a minister?" he asks when he finishes.

You grin and roll out of bed. You visit the lavatories and fix yourselves up the best you can, and set off in search of a holy man. A steward directs you to the person you're looking for.

You had no idea a wedding could happen so quickly. All the ones you'd attended back home had taken months to plan, like Ralph said. Hundreds of guests, many of whom the bride and groom probably didn't even like. Thousands spent on venues and decorations and dinner for hundreds. So much commotion, the people it was for barely had time to speak to each other.

And then there was this. A quiet ceremony in a dark corner of a ship's library, days after an event that would surely be one for the history books. In the clothes you'd been wearing for days. No fanfare at all; just you, the man you love, and the man reading scripture who would happily sign the necessary papers for a young couple who chose love in the face of tragedy.

It was perfect.

#writings of despair #ralphtanic #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

[todayisafridaynight]

arasawa 'but are they You Know' can be so funny check this out. literally any scenario involving ichiban being nosy

#snap chats #in the funniest and most ironic way i can say it its like when someones kids really wants their parent to be happy for once #yk what i mean there's like two ways a kid meeting a stepparent can go Abject Horror and Joy #i dont have to say who the first one is. i will though masato wants to scream Why Is Everyone But Me Happy #no listen if you've been reading the essays being posted here the past week i don think ichiban hates jo #and on TOP of that i think ichi thinks jo would be happy if he and arakawa could have One Nice Night and ergo he wont be so MEAN #just no worrying about the clan ichi and everyone else has it covered you can totally rely on them <- no you cant #its like when your parents go on vacation and you comedically wreck the house by accident while theyre gone #but then you SOMEHOW get it all fixed up right before they get home. cat in the hat kind of bullshit #i just think they should have their brooklyn 99 moment. you know the one #'RESPECTFULLY captain you and the boss need alone time' #jo doesnt even get what hes trying to say until he looks at mitsu who looks about ready to jump out the window yk #like 'aniki PLEAAASE shut the fuck up you're gonna get us hit' #and its BECAUSE they arent together Like That that its especially like Put A Cork In It You're Insane #in the alternate timeline/scenario where jo Does like arakawa like that i think ichi should be annoying about it too #listen if arakawa is the only thing that prevents them from maiming each other then it'll be fine #ichiban please be the worst wingman imaginable while jo tells you to leave him alone #hes going to bottle his emotions and store it in his chest and it'll just sit and ferment there until he dies #like are we seeing the potential here. its awful i cant open any new canvases or word docs EW #maybe if i finished my fuckin SHIT..

[flamboyant-king]

Why is harvey wearing noise canceling headphones during the fireworks?

fireworks and veterans aren't a pretty pair

#which is ironic considerign the holiday #I'd say the combination of the explosion the vibrations the smell and the sound is offputting #he'll just watch cammy enjoy the fireworks than the fireworks itself #the sparklers i used didnt really have a noticable smell #when i was at disney watchign the fireworks show MY GOD was the smoke suffocating #theyre not really at a fireworks show like those big ol celebrations with like 10 minutes of lights and such #more like the two of them are watching from the backyard #where the fireworks only sound like gunshots #THAT SCARED ME on my drive to workt he other night but i saw the fireworks in my rearview #i acually couldn hear the fireworks if i had my window up. these windows wild. i had my window rolled down cause gosh its hot lately #cammy learns about earphones headphones and noise cancelling headphones and earplugs #cammy's got sensitive ears as well so they both try on those things. harder for cammy since their ears are poooointy #cammy doesnt mind the loud noise much since theyre too worried about harvey #had a little scene where cammy's covering harvey's ears for him and it was pretty silly that harvey calmed down #like their whole dynamic is just wholesome comfort and problem solving and i cry #jeez im rambling a lot. i just have feelings and i want to see fireworks goshdangit #dont look at me im still figuring this shit out. my brain is infested with bugs i cant think straight

[luveline]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

[devilishcupid]

CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara

☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.

☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader

☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing

☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."

"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.

"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."

"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.

"Miguel!"

And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.

His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.

Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.

He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.

"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.

Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.

You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.

"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"

Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.

"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."

You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."

Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."

"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.

"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."

He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.

"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."

Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."

With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.

But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.

#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ doll's fics #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #spider-man #spiderman #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader

[hoshigray]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote. 

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now. 

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project. 

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off. 

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right? 

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!” 

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?” 

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.” 

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?” 

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment. 

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall. 

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment. 

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch. 

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh.  God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off. 

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.” 

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress. 

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy. 

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat. 

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you. 

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face. 

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute. 

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him. 

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.” 

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at. 

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face. 

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again. 

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra. 

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly. 

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze. 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out. 

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air. 

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip. 

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…” 

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him. 

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more. 

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud. 

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more. 

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!” 

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.” 

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.” 

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts. 

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs. 

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on. 

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.  

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit. 

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second. 

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!” 

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough. 

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm. 

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly. 

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you. 

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?” 

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips. 

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you. 

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi. 

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders. 

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness. 

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two. 

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him. 

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.” 

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!” 

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other. 

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves. 

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you. 

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least —  there might be something going on with you and Y/n?” 

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy. 

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.  

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said. 

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you. 

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two. 

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome. 

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him. 

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter. 

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry. 

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

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