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#idk why but i have a fear of posting lmao

shawtuzi · 7 months

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HIDE N’ SEEK FT. GOJO SATORU

summary- you and your boyfriend decide to play a little game of hide and seek at a halloween party

content warnings include- modern au, a little plot but mostly smut lmao, oral m!receiving, throat fucking, shoe humping, fingering, a little groping from gojo, sorta needy!gojo but he’s also pretty mean, unprotected sex, rough sex, tongue sucking bc i’m obsessed w it rn, squirting, creampie, geto is a perv, rushed ending, not proofread /// wc: 3.1k

a/n- hi!!! i’m back kinda from my hiatus so pls enjoy this bc idk when the next time i post will be lmao

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

gojo <3: i see you.

your heart rate began to pick up as you read the ominous text from your boyfriend. your eyes looked in every direction hoping to see someone in a ghost face mask on their phone, but unfortunately no such luck.

“why did i agree to do this . . . so stupid,” you grumbled to yourself as you shoved your phone in the back pocket of your sexy nurse costume. to add a little context you and your darling boyfriend, gojo satoru, thought it would be fun to play a little game of hide and seek at the costume party/bonfire one of his friends was throwing. you hide he seeks. the only catch was neither of you could have your location on and you weren’t allowed to tell anyone about the game. all you had to do was make sure gojo didn’t “tag” you before midnight. simple right? not.

you had thought nothing of it when he said he was going to be ghostface come to find out more than half the people at the party were dressed as the masked killer. it was easy to spot you of course—with your skin tight red and white dress and red stockings but trying to decipher which one of these people were gojo was simply impossible.

gojo was standing a few feet away from you, a sinister smile on his lips. he could see how frustrated you were becoming and boy was it a cute sight to see. your brows were furrowed and your red, glossed up lips were pulled into an adorable pout. you had the slightest tinge of fear in your eyes—between that and your costume he was becoming more riled up as the minutes ticked by.

you glanced at your phone—

11:42 PM

only eighteen more minutes and you were golden! you glanced at the part of the woods where it was dark and unoccupied with any party goers, without a second thought began to walk over to finish up the rest of the time. little did you know gojo was trailing behind you, quietly giggling at how silly you were for making this so easy for him.

“s’freezing out here,” your hands rubbed up and down your arms that were now covered in goosebumps. the only sounds that could be heard was the bass of the music from the party and your feet crunching against the dead leaves and twigs on the ground along with—another pair of footsteps???

you whipped around and were met with nothing but the party goers in the distance. you knew it was just a fun little game but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that overcame you. you had half a mind to text gojo and call off the game but with only ten minutes left you decided to stick it out.

after a minute your phone buzzed in your pocket.

gojo <3- found you :)

“wha-?” all a sudden your front was pushed into a tree, you felt someone’s weight press against you along with something plastic poking against your throat. “i found youuu,” gojo giggled, pressing the plastic knife more into your neck. you pushed your backside into his hard on making him groan right into your ear. “no fair ‘toru…couldn’t find you anywhere with all those people wearing the same costume,” you whined, slick beginning to stain your lacy white panties.

gojo hummed and without a second thought shoved his free glove covered hand into your panties, cupping your sensitive pussy. “c’mon baby you know i don’t like to play fair let’s not act dumb hm?” you couldn’t see his face but you knew just from the tone of his voice he was grinning from ear to ear. gojo used his middle finger to rub at your clit, giving you minor relief while he humped your ass. you both stayed like that for a moment before he began to grow bored.

“suck my dick,” was all he said, removing his hand from your panties much to your dismay. “but—but ‘toru—” you were cut off by gojo squishing your cheeks together roughly. he pushed you down by your shoulders, not caring that the twigs were scraping and poking against your soft skin. (don’t worry he’ll bandage you up later if need be <3)

“now if you recall from earlier..” be began to unbuckle his belt, “we agreed that whoever won got to do whatever they wanted with the loser right?” he waited for you to nod your head before continuing. he slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his briefs halfway down his toned thighs. “and who’s the winner?” he giggled, tracing his almost painfully hard dick against your lips. you darted your tongue out to get just a little taste of him, making satoru visibly shudder. “you, you’re the winner,” you mumbled, setting your hands in your lap.

gojo cradled your face his hands, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip off the ghostface mask and kiss you till you were breathless. “don’t look so sad babydoll, i’m about to fuck your throat and your little pussy so good let’s look alive yeah?” he gave your cheek a rough couple of pats. he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open your mouth.” you parted your lips and with little to no warning gojo shoved the digits down your throat, impressed that you had kept your gags to a minimum. he rubbed your saliva around the length of his dick and gave himself a few quick strokes before pushing the tip against your lips.

you wrapped your lips around his dick and gojo’s hand immediately found purchase on the back of your head. “yeah . . . jus’ like—fuck, l-like that,” although he was putting on a tough façade for the sake of the situation it was fading away quicker than he had anticipated. you were just so good with your mouth :(

you didn’t even care that you lost, now too enamored in the pretty sounds that were slipping past gojo’s lips. and you both certainly didn’t care that anyone could possibly catch you in the act. “i need to record this shit goddamn,” with shaky hands gojo held up his phone and started to record you, quietly apologizing for the sudden flash of light in your face. you played it out a little for the camera knowing gojo was definitely going to use this vid for times when he’s by himself. you wrapped both of your hands around his dick and worked quick pumps around the tip while your other hand moved slowly up and down the base.

satoru felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking on his balls, nearly dropping his phone in the process. “you’re s-so fuckin’ hot, so hot n’ a-all mine yeah? please say it,” he didn’t give the slightest fuck how pathetic he sounded. all needed in this moment was for you to tell him his dick belonged to you and you only and vice versa. “yes toru all yours,” you hummed leaving kisses around the base of his dick. that was all he needed to hear before he tossed his phone to the side and began to brutally fuck your poor little throat.

each time your nose pressed against his pelvis from deep throating him it just gave him more incentive to put a fat rock on your finger and never let you go. your dress had ridden up and without even thinking gojo pressed the top of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. “hump it, hump my fuckin’ shoe and cum from it,” his ‘demand’ was shaky and breathless but nonetheless you listened to your boyfriend and started humping his shoe.

between gojo still ruthlessly fucking your throat and the laces of his shoe rubbing deliciously against your clit you were overstimulated beyond belief—and it felt incredible. he loved when he could turn your brain into a pile of mush and you enjoyed it just as much. after holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for god knows how long gojo removed your mouth from his dick, finally letting you get some air. you didn’t know if it was alcohol, the blunt you took a few hits of, or just horniness in its purest form but you were feeling insatiable.

you wrapped your arms around his thick thigh and planted your knees firmly into the ground before moving your hips with quickness. gojo was surprised at your actions, his dick visibly twitching at you getting off on his fucking shoe of all things. “i’m—i’m close, can feel it toru i’m—o-oh my!” a sharp gasp left your lips when gojo began tapping his foot just the slightest. “jerk me off n’ let’s cum together,” you didn’t need to be told twice as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, suckling on the tip as well to bring him even closer to his peak (and to avoid getting cum in your face/hair heh).

you both came in unison a chorus of moans and groans leaving both of your mouths. “that—that was good, you’re so good y/n c’mere,” gojo was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed your back right against the tree that was shielding you both from any potential spectators. “i wanna kiss you so bad,” he spoke softly, cupping and massaging your breasts over your thin dress. “but i really wanna fuck you with this stupid mask on,” gojo gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease, you weren’t even the littlest but surprised when his impatient ass practically ripped your panties in half trying to get them off.

“put it in for me,” gojo muttered, blindly shoving your tattered panties in his back pocket. you complied whispering out a little ‘anything for you toru’ before slowly swiping his sensitive tip between your pillowy soft folds. just as you were about to slide him in you heard voices and footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer and closer. “w-wait someone’s coming!” you whisper-shouted but that didn’t stop gojo from pushing his dick into you with one swift thrust. a broken moan emerged from your throat and you were quick your cover your mouth with both hands.

“put your fuckin’ hands down no one’s gonna see us,” gojo hissed, his toes curling from how tight and hot you felt. you hastily removed your hands making gojo smile behind the mask. “they might not s-see but they’ll—hah! hear us toruuu,” you whined burying your face in his neck.

gojo made sure your legs were securely wrapped around his waist before yanking the ghostface mask off, he pressed his lips against yours without missing a beat. “guess i’ll just have to keep kissin’ ya to make sure you don’t make to much noise yeah?”

“yeah . . . . you’re right.”

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“do—do you guys *hiccup* here that?” a drunk, poor unknowing geto slurred out, his brows furrowing at the sound of grunts coming from the darker part of the woods. of course no one responded, too invested in literally anything else besides geto’s drunk ramblings—plus his jason mask muffled anything he had to say.

geto pushed himself up from the log he was sitting on, nearly falling over in process. “guess i’ll go look myself…dickheads,” he muttered to himself, making his way over to the suspicious noises. he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a particularly loud groan and that’s when it started to click. “holy shit . . . h-holy sh—”

“satoruuu!”

if geto was in his right state of mind he would’ve turned around with a quickness and forget this ever happened—but he’s not. his feet stayed planted, not daring move an inch closer. he hadn’t even realized be was starting to palm himself over his pants—already half hard. he could feel his heart in his throat as he took one step forward . . . and then another . . . anddd another.

he stopped once he could clearly hear the schlick schlick schlick noise of gojo pounding mercilessly into your poor pussy. he couldn’t see much but he could hear everything. he could hear your cute little pants and whines as you tried to poorly keep quiet, he could hear gojo muttering what must have been dirty promises into your ear, but in his opinion the best thing he heard was how sloppily you and gojo were kissing.

anytime your moans were becoming louder and more high pitched gojo would smash his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth without warning. gojo sucked your tongue into his mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest when he felt you tighten around him. “you taste like alcohol . . . you been drinking tonight love? is t-that why you’re being so—hah! fuckin’ loud? hm?” his ring and middle finger began toying with your clit and your lips started to tremble. hot, salty tears began to run down your cheeks making gojo giggle. “you’re s’cute when you cry, please cry more for me,” he cooed licking at the never ending stream of tears flowing from soon to be bloodshot eyes.

“you’re—you’re such a *sniffle* p-perv ‘toru,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his snow white locks. when you have a particularly harsh tug gojo’s knees buckled the tiniest bit, nearly making him lose his balance. “i see you’re feeling pretty mean huh? lets fix that . . . only thing i need you to feel is numb.” gojo removed his fingers from your clit and without warning shoved the digits between your lips. man oh man did you wish he would’ve taken those stupid gloves off, what you really needed in this moment was the feeling of gojo’s soft fingertips prodding at the back of your throat.

gojo slowed the pace of his thrusts, more focused on fucking your throat with his fingers. once he had his fix he removed his fingers from your mouth, smearing any excess saliva on your lips and chin. he slowly pulled his dick out, the moonlight mixed with the dim light from the bonfire making him glisten with your slick.

“n-no! no no don’t do that here someone will definitely hear me ‘toru,” you pouted, knowing good and well what gojo’s intentions were. gojo hummed as he rubbed his fingers between your soaked folds, pretending to to thinking about the consequences of his actions before giggling once more. “oh well!” he smiled, inserting his fingers into your pussy, immediately finding that spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“god do you hear how wet you are? such a slutty fuckin’ pussy goddamn,” gojo growled, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. you didn’t know how the fuck he was holding you so steady with one arm but you couldn’t even bother to care, too focused on your upcoming orgasm. “p-please . . . please add ‘nother finger ‘toru i need it,” you gasped loudly, back arching against the tree when you felt gojo begin to suck at your breasts over the thin material of your dress. gojo added another finger, increasing his pace until he felt your legs begin to shake.

he brought his lips close to your ear, nibbling and sucking at the lobe. “you’re so lucky we have to walk in front of everyone once we’re done or i would’ve torn this dress to pieces,” his words had your toes curling, and your eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.

while you were quickly chasing your peak geto was trying his absolute hardest not to reach his just yet. his pants were pulled down just enough to let his aching dick out and he wasted no time stroking himself to your pretty moans.

it was no secret to the three of you that geto had found you attractive—shit with the way gojo boasts about your guys’ sex life how could he not be curious??? yes curiosity. that’s all that this was. once he got off he would walk away and never think or speak of it ever. but he couldn’t help but think of the next time he sees you walking around with a limp and accidentally starts to wonder what positions gojo could’ve possible put you in . . . or wonder how brutally he had fucked your throat when he hears how hoarse your voice sounds.

his thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched moan that was quickly cut off by what he assumed was gojo’s lips on yours. he heard gojo say in a teasing tone ‘you tryin’ to baptize me over here?’ and he nearly cummed imagining your fucked out face and trembling legs.

a spurt of cum landed on your thigh and gojo tsked, shaking his head. “that won’t do, gotta be inside you now so i can finish inside,” he hummed, realigning his dick with your entrance. he pushed in with one swift thrust and that’s when your finally felt your brain turn into a muddled pile of nothing but lust and want. although it was dark gojo could still see the dazed look in your eyes and it brought a blissed out smile to his lips, which were now stained red from your lip gloss.

“c’mon baby talk to me, how do you feel?” gojo purred, pressing his forehead against yours. your words kept getting caught in your throat and all you could mutter out was a pathetic ‘feels s’gooood’. gojo could slowly feel himself begin to crumble, mumbling out incoherent sentences along with you. “i know baby i—shit, i know. feel so good ‘round me, so perfect you’re so perfect gimme a kiss,” he smushed his lips against yours with a clash of tongue and teeth—his fav kinda kisses.

“gotta big load for you baby, c’mon cum with me i know you can do it,” gojo’s words of encouragement finally brought you to your peak and this time you both just let it out. every pushed down moan and groan could be heard from anywhere if anyone paid close enough attention but neither of you could find it in you to care. gojo’s hips stilled as he emptied himself inside you, his tongue lolling out in the process. you were quick to bring your hands to his soft locks, gently scratching his scalp. “don’t do that, gonna make me too tired for the drive home,” he chuckled, giving your sweaty neck a sloppy kiss.

“speaking of, how am i supposed to walk with all this in me it’s a lot satoruuu,” you whined, feeling the urge to smack gojo on the back of the head for tearing your panties in two. gojo sighed, stroking your bare thigh gently with his thumb muttering something along the lines of ‘i’ll handle it’.

while you and gojo took a minute to regroup from your intense fuck session, geto was regrouping himself from possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. of course he felt disgusted with himself for spying on his best friend fucking his girlfriend but he also wanted more???

this was definitely going to be a problem.

#my writing #gojo smut #satoru smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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diordeer · 3 months

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౨ৎ DELICATE

“sometimes i wonder, when you sleep are you ever dreaming of me? sometimes when I look into your eyes, i pretend you're mine all the damn time” - taylor swift (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader who is best friends with taylor swift and stars in the music video of getaway car (taylor’s version)

description: how are we feeling about the tortured poets department??!?!!!??? have i already ordered the vinyl and cd? yes. btw, the link to join my taglist is in my pinned post

requested by: it wont let me tag who requested arggh!

liked by taylorswift, iamcharliebushnell and others

yn.ln my reputations never been worse so, u must like me for me 😉

tagged iamcharliebushnell

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user1 i know gal did not just say a reputation reference in the prime of reputation tv speculations as a friend of taylor swift

iamcharliebushnell a delicate reference i see

↳ yn.ln i’ve taught u well

user2 GUYS I CANT THE FIRST PIC WHERE DO I FIND A MAN LIKE THIS

↳ yn.ln idk i found him in the streets, guess it was a lucky pick 🤷‍♀️

user3 taylor swift liked!!!!! I think we r getting rep tv

↳ user4 no i dont think so bc i reckon it would be super secretive like they wouldnt just have her friend say it for her you know what i mean

↳ user3 let a girl dream 💔

dior.n.goodjohn u guys are so cute it makes me sick to my stomach and want to vomit

↳ leahsavajeffries i second that

↳ iamcharliebushnell so is this a compliment..? orr

user5 i LOVE how wherever one percy jackson cast member goes EVERYONE else follows

↳ dior.n.goodjohn u assume im here for charlie? yn is my bae 😘

↳ yn.ln love ya 😘

↳ iamcharliebushnell 🧍

user6 THE SHOES OMG?!

user7 can we talk ab charlie in the last pic omg

↳ yn.ln ikr 🤭

taylorswift its been a long time coming…

tagged yn.ln

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user1 WHAT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

selenagomez so proud of u girl 🐍

user2 SET OFF THE ALARMS OMGOMGOMG

yn.ln TAYLOR ILY

haimtheband OH YES

user3 WHY IS YN TAGGED IN THIS OH MY GOD WHATS HAPPENING

user4 READY FOR IT TV IS REAL

blakelively 🖤🖤🖤

user5 THE PHOTOS OMG THIS IS INSANE

sabrinacarpenter YOU GO TAYLOR

↳ user2 i love the swiftverse

user6 do u guys reckon yn will be in a delicate mv??

↳ user7 babe theres already a delicate mv

teddysphotos cant wait!!

user8 the hole for kanye west has just dug so much deeper

comments:

user1 nothing good starts in a getaway car!!

user2 this is everything i imagined and more

user3 YN IN IT?!!

↳ user4 OMG AND THE BRIDGE SCENE

user5 this is too iconic i fear

user6 yn winning at life

↳ user3 PLS i want whatever manifestation method shes got

user7 SNAKES

Liked by dior.n.goodjohn, taylor swift and others

yn.ln im sure you’ve seen getaway car by now, and if you haven’t what are you doing?

tagged taylorswift

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user1 taylor swift and yn ln in a reputation music video together is my roman empire

iamcharliebushnell did u, did u just happen to forget to tell me u were in this mv? 😊😊

↳ yn.ln it was a secreeeettt!

↳ iamcharliebushnell even from me? 😥

↳ user2 👀

↳ yn.ln charlie u r the biggest talker ever if i told i this would be out in a second

↳ aryansimhadri she has a great point

↳ iamcharliebushnell what?!

↳ yn.ln see! Totally justified!

↳ iamcharliebushnell ur not getting away with this one yn 😡

yn.ln guys if i dont post this week charlies killed me, call the police

↳ leahsavajeffries LMAO

taylorswift love you!

↳ yn.ln ugh impossible i love you more

user3 gal took the memo and embodied it

tag list: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife

#charlie bushnell x reader #smau #social media au #percy jackson and the olympians #taylor swift #repuation tv #in the know #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #aesthetic

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rosepascal · 1 year

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Put On a Brave Face | Joel Miller x Reader

summary: Joel Miller almost loses you the same way he lost his baby girl.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, blood/gore, standard tlou stuff, reader gets shot, graphic descriptions, kinda softer!Joel so a little OOC

a/n: I got this idea and honestly idk if i like it that much but im posting this anyways. Also this is for the besties who would be absolute crybabies if they got shot bc that is 100% me lmao. I get a papercut and im in tears fr.

The universe must really hate Joel Miller. For all the shit it’s put him through, it just has to add more. It’s not his fault, something that you really really hope he understands. He heard the gun fire but it sounded like white noise. He didn’t feel any pain so he knew it didn’t hit him.

A blur of gun fire and the men around him are dead. Jackson was mostly a safe place but lately there’s been a gang of people who were attempting to infiltrate the commune.

They were easy work for Joel, he wasn’t thrilled that you tagged along on patrol but he trusted you and if he had to have someone he’d pick you to watch his back.

If only he paid a little more attention.

It was like a punch straight to the gut. You felt a sudden pressure as you shot at the bandits. You were too busy focusing on keeping Joel safe to notice you had been hit by a stray. When the chaos stopped is when the pain set in.

Everything feels fuzzy. Like something ain’t quite right. And everything was hot. It’s the middle of winter but it feels like your whole body’s on fucking fire. An ache starts to burn in your stomach, you set your hand on it without thinking. Only to be met with a red stained hand.

“J-Joel?” His world stops.

Panic claws at his heart as it beats louder and louder in his ears. He turns around to face you. Sweat runs down your face, a small smile on your lips as you try and stay calm for both your sakes. His eyes fall to your stomach and that's when he sees it.

One of the bullets from their gun went clean through you. The blood, there’s already so much of it.

“Joel.” You whimper as you fall to the ground. Staying upright becomes the least of your worries as it becomes harder to breathe.

You’ve lived through twenty years of this shit and yet this is the first time you have ever been shot. Those who survived always said it’s either nothing or the worst pain in the world. Joel’s been shot before.

You were there once. The bullet went into his arm and it was awful trying to get it out. He was strong as hell though. Kept his calm and walked it off a few days later.

You always admired how strong Joel was. Not just in the physical sense but he always seemed to be calm even in the worst situations. Maybe it was all a show. But right now you wished you could do the same.

You wish that you could look up at him and tell him you were okay and crack a joke but you can’t. It hurts so bad, it’s burning and pain is tearing through your whole body.

“I got you baby.” Joel falls next to you. He tosses his gun to the side and wraps you in his arms. One hand under your back to try and get you upright.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.” He wants to puke. A sob crawling its way up his throat.

“It hurts!” You cry, clawing at his shirt. Fingers digging into the soft fabric of his flannel.

“Joel!” It breaks his damn heart to hear you cry out in such pain.

“I know, fuck I know baby.” Jackson isn’t far and right now it’s your only hope.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles as he stands you up and irritates your wound. Your scream makes him flinch. It’s raw and full of fear and so much pain.

Why couldn’t it be him? Why did it have to be you?

“Please, please I don’t want to die Joel.” The words tumble out of your mouth without thinking.

“Please please.” You bury your face into Joel's chest as he half drags and half carries you to the gates of Jackson.

“I don’t want to die!” You wail loudly and Joel tightens his grip on you. It’s pure agony. Every minor step or bump sends waves of pain through you.

“You’re okay, we’re so close, baby, just a few more steps.” Joel closes his eyes as you cry out for him.

It’s a sickening sense of deja vu. Bleeding out in his arms by a bullet he didn’t see. He needs to focus. It feels cruel but he has to zone out. The gates are so close and that’s all that matters.

“Help!” Joel screams till his throat is raw as he gets closer. The gates open too damn slow as someone rushes out to help. Together they bring you inside the walls and rush you to the doctor.

“What the fuck happened?” Joel tenses up when he sees Ellie running towards him. A panicked look on her face. Worry written all over her face when she sees you being carried in.

“Joel?!” She tries to run in but Joel grabs her arms.

“Stay outside.” He commands, not wanting Ellie to witness you in such a bad state.

“Fuck no!” She tries to push past him but he’s stronger than her. Your pained scream makes Ellie stop fighting, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Don’t worry.” he says unconvincingly as he turns and runs into the room. You’re lying on a table, your shirt already torn so they have access to clean the wound. Joel rushes to your side and grabs your hand.

“I’m here baby.” He brings your hand to his lips and lets you squeeze it tight. The medic opens a bottle and looks at Joel before pouring some of it onto your stomach.

“FUCK!” You seethe and try to squirm away but someone holds you to the table.

“Make it stop! Please!” Sobbing, you squeeze Joel's hand as tight as you can.

“Joel please! It hurts so bad!” Your vision is blurred by the tears and the tiredness that your body feels right now but you can still make him out.

You can’t leave him, you can’t die. It hurts more than the bullet did as they start to patch you up. Spots of black cover your vision and you start to cry more, you just want Joel to hold you and make it better. Your eyes flutter closed and you feel a hand tapping harshly on your cheek.

“Stay with me baby, come on.” Joel opens your eyes and in pure panic snaps at the medic.

“DO SOMETHING!” Joel is an intimidating force but right now he’s utterly helpless.

“We’re doing everything we can.” The medic says calmly. Keeping your eyes open becomes too hard, you just want to sleep.

“No no, come on. Wake up!” His voice fading out as darkness and peace consumes you.

- - -

Two centimeters. According to the medic you were two centimeters away from dying. The bullet entered and nearly missed a major artery. If it had hit you there then you would have been dead in minutes.

You’re lucky to be alive.

It doesn’t feel lucky. It feels like shit. You’re stuck at home while on recovery and with Joel as your caretaker that meant you couldn’t even leave. After the doctor left he took one look at you and you know there’s no argument here.

When you woke up Joel was there. He wouldn’t tell you much. Just that you were shot and that you were okay. He doesn’t think you remember much of anything after the bullet hit. But you do. Somehow you remembered everything up until you passed out and all you could feel now is guilt.

You wished you were stronger. That you didn’t scream and cry for him to help you even though you know he couldn’t. There’s nothing he could have done and you made it worse. You weren’t in the right headspace but it felt cruel to beg for him to save you after everything.

After...Sarah. He doesn’t talk about much. He opened up to you once in the middle of a sleepless night. You don’t know every detail but from what he told you, you put a few pieces together.

Shot by a soldier with a bullet that should have hit him instead.

A situation that felt too similar to this one. How could you do that to him? How could you look him in the eyes after all of this? Being in recovery meant you couldn’t do your chores so Joel took them. Great, first you remind him of his dead daughter and now you’re making him work even more. At least Ellie was here. She rarely left your side.

“A book just fell on my head, I only have my shelf to blame.” Ellie looks up from her pun book with a smile. It’s just after dinner and Joel still isn’t home. So she has taken it upon herself to be your entertainment.

“That's four outta ten.” You say and she rolls her eyes.

“No way that one was funny.” She flips the page and reads another one.

“Okay okay, you wanna hear a joke about pizza?” Resting your face on your hand you nod.

“Sure.”

“Nevermind, it was too cheesy.” You snort and she laughs.

“Alright, that one is pretty good.” She punches the air in success. You notice her eyes keep darting down to your side where the bandages are.

“You know Maria told me about the school sleepover, bunch of kids your age are going.” You say and Ellie shrugs. It makes you feel guilty that Ellie’s here and not out with people her own age.

“I don’t know, not really my thing.” She’s lying. You know she is. That girl she’s grown quite close to will be there and you don’t want to stand in the way.

“I’ll be okay Ellie, I want you to go and have some fun.” She looks hesitant but after a little bit of pushing she caves. Hugging you tight before leaving.

Sighing you try and get comfortable on the couch and wait for Joel. He comes back late. You must have fallen asleep because next thing you know you’re being shaken awake. Joel's tired eyes stare at you, only meeting them for a second before looking somewhere else.

“Where’s Ellie?” He asks.

“Sleepover.” You answer sleepily.

“You shouldn’t be sleepin’ on the couch. It’s not good for you.” You hold back a laugh as you recall the many times you’ve found Joel passed out on the couch. You try to sit up but you move too fast. Squeezing your eyes shut as you feel a sharp pain in your stomach.

“Careful,” He places a hand on your back to steady you. Silently he guides you upstairs to bed. He’s given up the extra pillow and blanket to make you as comfortable as possible.

“Coming to bed?” You ask hopefully as he helps you in. He shakes his head and your face falls.

“I will soon.” He kisses your forehead before turning out the light.

He hasn't slept easy since the incident. He knows you’re alive. In his brain he sees you breathing and talking but sometimes when he closes his eyes he can only see you lying on that table.

He comes to bed a few hours later. Being as quiet as he can so he doesn’t wake you, but you aren’t asleep. The guilt has been eating you alive for days now. You put him through so much and now you feel like dead weight. He’s pulling away to protect his heart and it’s killing you. You know he’s asleep when he starts to snore. He swears he doesn’t but he does.

Carefully you throw the blankets off, resting the extra one back on him. The floor underneath creaks with every step. Sleep isn’t coming and you need a drink. Opening the cabinets you see the bottle of whiskey all the way in the back of the top shelf.

“Dammit Joel.” You huff as you blindly reach to the back.

It’s just out of reach and you feel anger start to seep in. It shouldn’t be this hard to get a glass of whiskey. You should be able to do this without anyone's help. Pain starts to blossom in your stomach as you put one knee on top of the counter and stretch the stitches. When you finally wrap your fingers around the neck of the bottle you feel your foot slip.

Glass shatters on the ground around you as you land hard on your back. You let out a whimper of pain as you sit upright and look at what you’ve done. Shards of glass surround you and the amber liquid pools on the floor. Heavy footsteps come running down the hall. Joel looks frantic as he holds his gun out, looking around for intruders. When his eyes land on you, you look down in shame.

“What the hell happened?” His voice booms and you feel like crying.

“I-I’m so sorry. I just. I thought I could..” Without thinking you reach to clean the glass.

“Stop!” He kneels down and grabs your hands before they can touch the glass. He doesn’t say a word as he cleans the shards of glass. You could feel how angry he was.

“Wanna tell me what was so important?” He crosses his arms and stares down at you.

It’s like you're a little kid being scolded for stealing a cookie. You feel angry and sad and so guilty and your stomach really hurts. Digging your nails into your knees you start to cry. Small sniffles snowball into sobs that make your whole body shake.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can say as you bury your face into your hands.

“Baby..” Joel’s voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. He falls to his knees and wraps his arms around you. Tears shining in his eyes as he feels you tremble in his touch.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, what are you sorry about?” He rubs your back and closes his eyes.

“I remember everything Joel, W-When I got shot. Fuck the things I said.” You bury your face into his chest as a fresh wave of tears fall. They just won’t stop.

“What are you talkin’ about?” He gently pushes you back so he can see your face. Wiping those tears from your cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have..I made it so much worse.” He’s confused. Really confused.

“Baby, There’s nothing to be sorry for,” He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, heart cracking as he looks into your broken eyes.

“I begged you to save me when there was nothing you could do.” He grimaces at the memory of your painful cries, but you were dying and you were scared. He could never hold that against you.

"I wanted to be strong for you but I couldn’t a-and I hurt you." You rip his hands off of you and curl into a ball.

“It's not your fault baby. None of it.” He rests his hands on top of your knees. It baffles him that you think any of this is your fault.

“You were in so much pain. " His voice cracks slightly and it gets you to lift your head.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you baby.”

“Joel…” You start but he silences you.

You never should have been in that position in the first place but it's not about him right now. He gently pulls you into his lap, hugging you tightly. He closes his eyes, feeling your heartbeat.

“I shoulda noticed sooner. I..." He stops himself from going down that path.

"You’re so strong baby. You fought like hell and didn’t give up.” You don’t say anything. The guilt is still there but it won’t go away anytime soon.

You’re living in a fucked up world and you’re just two fucked up people trying to survive. And somehow you survived.

“Can we go back to bed?” You ask softly, tired from the crying.

There's more to say but its too late now. Tomorrow Joel will tell you over and over that it's not your fault. He'll tell you every damn day until you believe him. He’ll pray for your forgiveness for putting you in danger, for letting you get hurt and you’ll read him like a damn book and tell him it’s ridiculous. Maybe then you’ll both realize their’s not guilt to be had on either side.

Watching you bleed out on that table, it really did remind him of the day he lost Sarah. That fear and pain never really goes away but right now he can hold you in his arms and feel your heart. He can see your eyes and hear your voice. That’s all he needs right now. He’s not going to lose you. Ever.

So god help anything that stands in his way.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction

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stellamancer · 1 month

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heel (gojo x reader???)

notes: um. idk what i should say. though i am not hating on feet people!! i am feet people!! if you want a non foot version of this feel free to read my other fic empty threat: also post spar with gojo shenanigans (even reused a line to connect the two lmao). part of the infinite loop! fic verse.

ageless blogs and minors do not interact

contains: gn!reader (no gendered language is used) gojo, feet (or what i like to call the steppy)??, dubcon?? (just in case), sexual implications, the use of the words dick and cock, no this isn't smut

wc: 812

You wish you knew how you ended up in this situation.

It all started with you agreeing to spar with Gojo and thinking back now, that was your first mistake. Training with him has been odd lately, though you can’t quite put your finger on why, but one minute the two of you were engaged in hand to hand combat and now he’s laying on the floor with your foot pressed firmly against his crotch.

You don't even know how it got there in the first place.

“Well?” he drawls, that stupid amused tone of his grating on your nerves as he waits for your next move.

Idly, you think it’d be nice if you could end his family line here and now by stomping down hard enough but you know that that’s just wishful thinking on your part.

Should you just back off then? Fight’s over; you’ve won, but only because Gojo let you. Honestly speaking, that fact burns you, keeps your foot in place despite your attempts to rationalize it with the notion that a win’s a win. If he were a curse, you wouldn’t care about it being an easy win.

But he’s not; he’s Satoru Gojo and there’s something off about all this.

“Enjoying the view?” Gojo asks, yanking you from your thoughts. You stare down at him, scowling, but he remains unfazed as usual. “Not that I can blame you since—”

Your body reacts instantly in annoyance, your foot jerking down, digging into his dick and, for a split second, you think that it’s the surprise of it that causes him to cut off mid-sentence.

Except for the fact that he moans.

He fucking moans.

You’ve always thought, always known that Satoru Gojo is an absolute freak but you’d never really given much thought to it.

If you could, you’d keep it that way— the last thing you want is to be giving him more mental real estate than he deserves.

This is way too much for you right now.

“Ah, so you’re into that, are you?” Gojo’s voice sounds way too entertained, way too pleased for someone who just had someone grind their heel into his crotch. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

Instinct bids you to crush his cock beneath your foot because normally guys find that to be pretty painful, but you have to remind yourself that Gojo is far from normal. He might actually be into it. So instead, you try to pull your foot away, to get away from him as fast as possible, but try as you might, your foot doesn’t move, as if it’s being held in place by some invisible force.

You’re mildly horrified when you realize that it is and this, you think, has the be the most disturbing use of the Limitless technique in all of history. The realization causes your self-control to slip and your foot presses even harder against him.

Gojo moans again, louder this time and you can’t ignore the slight pressure of what you fear to be a growing boner pushing against the sole of your shoe.

Nor can you ignore the electric prickle running up and down the length of your spine. What the heck? When it starts to settle in the pit of your stomach you realize what it is.

You need to get away from Gojo.

Now.

You yank your foot away from him and luckily, luckily, he releases his technique and you’re free of him. Like a frightened creature, you back away and refuse to look Gojo in the eye.

“...get up,” you say after a second of absolute silence. You hear the ruffle of clothes as he rises to his feet and slowly, carefully, you peer at him from the corner of your eye. “Don’t do that again.”

Gojo’s expression is unreadable. Figures. But who knows, maybe, for once in his life, he’ll actually listen.

Unfortunately, your hopes are dashed the moment he opens his mouth. “Why? You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

You are horrified. What kind of face were you making? There’s no way. He has to be lying, saying what he wants for the sake of his own entertainment. You couldn't have been into it! You were mortified, horrified by all of it, but yet you still managed get tu—

Before that last thought can fully form itself in your mind you shake your head violently as if that will rid you of it.

Gojo laughs lighthearted and amused as always, “Okay, okay, if you say so.”

He doesn’t believe you, but he’s always been delusional. You glare at Gojo but he ignores it, and stretches.

“Let me know if you change your mind though,” he says casually. “I think it could be fun.”

“Yeah right,” you huff, ignoring how he laughs, ignoring how the tiniest voice in the back of your mind thinks that maybe, just maybe he’s got a point.

Satoru Gojo’s definitely a freak, but maybe you are too.

is gojo actually into getting his dick stepped on or was he just fucking around and you were just finding out? you decide.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #nsft #tw feet #cw feet #infinite loop!verse

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shiftylinguini · 8 months

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Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack:

@phoebe-delia asked in response to this fun lil ask game:

Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back? . (for the ask anything) Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back?

Now THIS. This is a good question, and something that is very much on my mind and has been for a while, as I am currently absolutely in the midst of this and trying to army crawl my way out. I don't have any magic bullets (is that the saying? idk) but I have been here before and i do have a small arsenal of tips or methods that I find can help me.

Here is my Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack (In no particular order):

Write anything

This is hardly groundbreaking advice, and it's also the hardest thing to actually do (imo) so do not beat yourself up if it takes a while to get to this. Basically, write ANYTHING―it can be aimless, it can be pointless, it can be crap (crap is subjective!! don't let the brain gremlins win!!).

Don't think about posting it, don't worry about anyone else ever reading it, just fling a few words onto a page and feel the rusty faucet turn on, proving to yourself that it still works.

Try and sus out what it is that's blocking you

Again this one is hard and annoying but functional. Once you can put your finger on the particular reason you're staring at a flashing black line on a blank page it can help you kick that reason off your lawn and into the bin.

And then, take it out of the bin and be kind to yourself about whatever that reason is. Maybe you feel shit because you're comparing yourself to others, your last fic felt like a lead balloon, you can't muster enthusiasm for what you once loved doing and fear that it's gone forever, you're projecting in a Tumblr post―whatever it is, it's something all the writers you admire and aspire to be like have felt, and been annoyed with themselves for, and so you can wrap it up in a blanket and put it on a shelf and be kind to it so it, (respectfully) shuts the fuck up.

(and remember, everyone feels insecure about their stuff. Like literally everyone, at some stage, feels like their stuff is rubbish)

Cheat on your OTP

Okay this one might not work for everyone, but it really does for me lol. Ruts (not the sexy kind) can often come with not wanting to engage in my usual ships, being annoyed by my lack of ability to fucking write them/anything/all my ideas taste like cardboard/bleh, and stepping out on them and reading something new can snap me out of it. Just, an injection of new ideas or scenarios or words or even just a little reprieve from being fed up with myself, which ideally, is why we're all here anyway.

(And then I come crawling back, and am welcomed with open arms haha)

In a similar vein:

Engage in media

This subtitle is genuinely terrible, i am sorry, LMAO, but essentially: find a piece of media that makes you go "oh, helLO sailor", unhinge your jaw like a snake, and consume it whole.

Let it nourish you, inspire you, excite you, making you feel SOMETHING, and then take that and think "fuck, what if i wrote bleepbloopblarp" and even if you write nary a single word, you've thought about it and that fucking counts.

It might be an album, a book, a song, a show, gifs of a hot person, the wikipedia summary of a movie, literally anything counts here if it makes you feel a twinge of creativity.

Ask yourself, what would Astolat do?

No for real. @candybarrnerd and I genuinely use this haha.

Worried your idea is stupid? Astolat would say write it.

Worried it's too weird? Nah, just write it.

It's dumb and no one will read it? Just write it for you *waggles eyebrows* (and then find out that yeah, nah, someone else will absolutely read this and be real fucking happy about it haha.)

Worried you're a one trick pony and have already written this fic before, like, and not even once before, and also you're projecting again in Tumblr post? WRITE IT AGAIN! As Astolat once said, "it's a fic so nice, I wrote it thrice".

It's good advice.

Make a friend or lean hard on the ones you have here

Misery loves company because it knows they'll come out of this together :). I know, I know, that's fucking NAFF, but fandom is all about finding like-minded freaks and blowing up their DMs because you saw a gif and now feel a kind of ways about it.

And lastly:

FUCK STATS!

I mean I love stats (yay validation!), but god can they make you feel like a worthless shit (hey where did my validation go :((( ). It can be really insidious, so piss that right off when it starts to fuck with your confidence or outlook on your own writing.

Hopefully there is something useful here, even if it's just looking at this advice and thinking "no that's shit, it's writing POISON" cos then you can maybe do the version you think is NOT shit, and that might work.

Good luck, fellow travelers!!

#thank you for this ask #this turned into projected cathrsis but i hope this helps if you are possibly feeling in a slump!!#on fic #writing #writing advice #our lord and saviour astolat #shifty turns an innocent ask into a therapy session #also is there a fucking name for the flashing space bar line on a word doc LMFAO there has to be right?? i do not know what it is

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junkyardstrash · 4 months

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my thoughts on the new sleep token masks and what's next:

the boys have been hinting at this type of change for a while now, iii's paint slowly turning red and iv and ii taking off their masks at the show just before wembley. I think thr new album will be more metal and overall more heavy, similar to their songs vore and gods.

I don't think these changes are necessarily meant to be seen as a part of the TMBTE cycle, they quite literally said "a new era" on each of their posts, these masks are hinting at and showing us what to expect for the next era. Sleep Token is very deliberate with what they choose to do appearance wise and their lore so although these masks are a very drastic change, it's all part of the plan.

NOW for lore.... TPWBYT and Sundowning were kinda defeat albums, Vessel being at his lowest while TMBTE is a redemption album, Vessel taking control back in his life from Sleep and his insecurities/past faults. that being said- the next album will probably be Sleep fighting Vessel back. I think what's happening is that Sleep takes different forms of Vessels insecurities and past faults so Sleep is using this to their advantage, using the other vessels (ii, iii, and iv) as their puppets. the toxic back and forth cycle between Sleep and Vessel is ending so Sleep is taking the manipulation up a notch. the new masks look very intimidating and it's all deliberate, Sleep is possessing the other vessels and shaping them into Vessels (i) fears as a way to get to Vessel (i), I mean, what would be a better way to get to Vessel if not to use the band as a way to get to him?

people say the masks clash too much and they don't look consistent but I think that's exactly what's supposed to happen. Sleep is using ii, iii and iv as Vessels INDIVIDUAL insecurities. Vessel sees the others and its a mirror of his faults. or maybe they quite literally wanted to look more individual rather than have the same look as one another 🤷‍♀️

the next album will be like a videogame boss fight between Vessel and sleep

some other stuff I noticed and some more theories. do these mean anything? who knows! this is just me rambling:

Vessel has runes written all over his body, I couldn't exactly make out what they say but just going off the fact that it's runes- it can either be 1. a protection barrier from Sleep or 2. another way that Sleep is slowly taking over vessel

it seems like the mouths on the masks are getting wider and wider in order from ii, iv, iii, and then Vessel. while all the others have the band sigil across their eyes, ii is the only one who has it across his mouth. considering ii is the second vessel and Sleep is struggling to control Vessel(i), what if theyre going for ii? using him as the main vessel? he also imo has the most intimidating looking mask out of everyone so...

or maybe iii is gonna get a mic and thats why his mask is open HEHE

my sister pointed this one out- iii had gold on his hands as he was transitioning to the red body paint and as we all know, iii and iv are very touchy on stage, iii always lifting ivs mask up, them kissing, etc etc. now iv has gold on his mask, what if iiis gold paint from his hands transferred to ivs mask? what would this mean? IDK maybe it's another Sleep tactic or we're looking too much into it lmao

iv also has Vessels leg wraps on his arm? what's up with that?

ANYWAYS lmk your thoughts, my mind is going crazy rn and I think people are taking the mask changes at face value rather than thinking about why they look the way they do now and how it fits in the lore

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saym0-0 · 2 months

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what do you think the mechs would be avatars of? my first thought was slaughter for the group as a whole bc,, duh. but now that im thinking about it, i think they'd be more eye/end aligned. because their whole thing is stories and the part they clearly deem most important is the end right? theres all the blood and gore in the middle but the important bit is everyone dies at the end

individually though, not as a whole group they're all sorts of stuff i think

ashes would be desolation for sure with all the fire and the likes, and hades makes me think web too? they're the one behind the scenes pulling the strings (granted, usually for their own entertainment but who can blame em really)

toy soldier would be stranger, once again for obvious reasons. im not really sure if theres much crossover on this one really.

jonny i reckon would be eye and slaughter, mans cares for two things and its violent crime and a good story (amen!)

brian is SO lonely coded like?? its in the backstory song man,, also vague end-ness probably, though tbf they probably all have that end cloud by virtue of being the mechanisms. maybe vast too

tim would be slaughter too, he loves a good murder spree but i feel like theres something else and ive just forgotten like half the fears lmao OUGH hunt maybe? tim goes crazy is very hunt coded

ivy is SO immensely eye. she's literally an archivist. she gathers and stores aaallll that information but her emotional connection to it is reset every night. thats so eye!!

nastya is definitely lonely, at least towards the end but probably the whole time (from what little i know of cyberian demons) and maybe dark? that ones 100% vibes i have no explanation

marius has very spiral vibes i think. hes just a silly guy ur honour i think he deserves it. i cant really think of any other one for him tbh

and raph is quite stranger coded i think, idk the detachment from humanity that comes with being a mad scientist just feels very stranger to me? more so than the average mechs detatchment from humanity

i dont know why i made this post but ive been rotating end/eye mechs in my brain for a couple days just because i think the idea of s5 jmart stumbling across a domain thats kind of an accumulation of the various album aettings and music that can be heard from anywhere in the domain and victims living/reliving the parts of the characters is very very cool and i needed to word vomit it somewhere

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crazystargirl · 8 months

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instagram posts ft. @jackchampion & @y/n_l/n pt. 5 ♥︎

pairing ♥︎ - jack champion x fem!reader, jack champion x actress!reader

a/n ♥︎ - hahahahah lmao i only made this bc i was bored at school and someone commented to be tagged in this "series" alsp i was so unmotivated to finish this but i finished on monday night bc i couldnt sleep (i'll probably post the next few chapters of the smau today) ALSO ILL ADD PHOTOS ON THE TOP LATER I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL NOW 😭

liked by y/n_l/n, baileybass, and 738,324 others

jackchampion back from vacation and ready to start filming!!

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y/n_l/n luckyyyyy im stuck at school 😭

| jackchampion aw you'll be fine school isn't that bad

| y/n_l/n YOU CANT BE TALKING YOU NEVER WENT TO PUBLIC SCHOOL

masonthegooding have fun im still on vaca 🤭

user821 I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THIS MOVIE ISSSSS

user494 can i get a hi from jack?

| jackchampion hi :)

| user494 UKWHDKDNRJDUW TYYYY

liked by jackchampion, devynnekoda, and 829,336 others

y/n_l/n i actually live my school life in constant fear that someone will recognize me 😭

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user628 DUDE I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WITH HERRRRR

user143 hold up i think i go to school with her 🤭

| y/n_l/n wait rlly??? 😭

misstrinitybliss awww it'll be fine at least we're both still in school

jennaortega ONE MORE YEAR AND THEN UR FREEEE

| y/n_l/n WHOOHOOOOOOO

liked by jackchampion, jennaortega, and 933,724 others

y/n_l/n i actually love him sm he came to hang out with me during lunch

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jennaortega hes taking my job i miss u 😒

| y/n_l/n i miss u too 😭

user518 I NEED TO KNOW WHO THAT IS

user149 im betting it was jack fs

user947 couple goals fr 🫶🏻

liked by y/n_l/n, jasminsavoy, and 2,394,027 others

jackchampion so like idk if i should've bought these since she stole mine even tho i bought her own one 😒

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y/n_l/n why buy them if ur not gonna let me have them 💀

| jackchampion …that's not the point of me buying them

| user719 my parents are having a little argument 🤭

jennaortega y/n better share those

| y/n_l/n no way in hell am i sharing them

user927 awww they look cute

liked by devynnekoda, masonthegooding, and 936,294 others

y/n_l/n he told me we could play monopoly last night since school sucks and this is the convo i had with him this morning

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jackchampion cant help it if im better 🤷🏼‍♂️

| y/n_l/n LITERALLY STOP 😭

masonthegooding damn he kicked your ass, never thought you'd be bad at monopoly

| jackchampion i told you i was better and you didnt believe me

| y/n_l/n blocked.

the comments on this post have been limited

liked by melissabarreram, y/nchampion, and 1,947,248 others

y/n_l/n i actually love him sm 🥹

comments have been turned off on this post

taglist ♥︎ - @xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @kaeswor@urmomcomsiimiamour, @abodyhasbeenfound, @phsychobanana @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz

lmk if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

©crazystargirl || do NOT copy or repost without my permission

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x you #jack champion fluff #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #fluff

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embarrassinglastwords · 11 months

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the results are in!

with 314 votes these were the top 10 stsg moments people can’t believe are canon (top 10 based off of the ones i listed lmao) this will be long but i did say i was gonna make a post of the results so -

10: in last place with only 1.9% - their names complimenting each other + Geto’s robes being called “gojo-gesa robes”

i included these together cause they are similar imo. both being based around the other.

9: “the only one i have”

the iconic quote with 3.2% that is so misquoted cause of that translation that i’m pretty sure people ignore that that’s actually what he says rather than “my one and only”💀 (myself included but for the sake of the poll i did the accurate translation)

8: the light novel in general

maybe i’m biased cause of my user but only getting 3.8% of votes surprised me lmao.

i mean i just think about “Even if everything was different now, there was still one thing- from that very moment it all started- that had never changed” as well as “Geto Suguru It was a name that the Jujutsu tech organization feared…but to Gojo Satoru, he was—“ all the time

i posted more quotes from it here

7: with 7.3% (nanami surprise appearance) we have their official songs stated by Gege.

Shame On Me being Gojo’s

and Come Back Home being Geto’s.

6: 8.9% of votes for this insane moment from the newer chapters after Gojo’s resurrection lmao

him and Kenny are fighting and Gojo offers to fight on Dec. 24th (Geto’s death anniversary) with Kenny replying “How romantic”

this legit made me scream when the chapter came out… anyways

5: i almost didn’t include this moment because i was sure it was gonna win because of how often it’s brought up but i’m glad to see i was wrong💀

but still in the top 5 with 9.6% is Gojo recognizing Geto by smell in JJK0… i have nothing to add to that cause like. what.

4: with 10.5% we have Gojo’s last words to Geto being “3 words” as stated by Gojo’s english va! (which i also mentioned in the post linked above)

(that being paired with the light quotes above and “such embarrassing words” and it being words they had “never said to each other before” … we all know what he said…🙄)

3: with 12.4%, the one that made me spiral and realize Gojo is probably done for, Gege himself saying “one cannot exist without the other” about Gojo and Geto…

so either Geto is miraculously gonna come back or they are sharing a death anniversary lmao

2: at 18.8%!

the infamous vol 0 quotes that are 100% parallels because the entire movie is.

Gojo, to Yuta in reference to Rika: “Love is the most twisted curse of them all” (idk why i said 'worst curse' in the poll lmao)

Geto as he dies: “At least curse me a little at the very end.”

bangs my head into a wall… okay and number 1!!

1: at 23.6% is the stsg moment. “My six eyes tell me you’re Suguru Geto but my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer, who the hell are you?!”

not only was seeing Geto the reason for him getting sealed but he went against his own power, his own technique which makes him the strongest, to listen to his soul. and to quote Song of Achilles (which i made a joke the other day about stsg being modern day achilles and patroclus) “He is half of my soul, as the poets say.”

okay this was the first poll i’ve done like this besides some random funny ones on my other blog and i can’t believe it got 300+ votes. maybe i’ll do more in the future if i can think of some topics.

#they make me insane #i just want them to be happy #i have my stsg playlists on repeat #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers #satosugu #sugusato #stsg #satoru gojo #suguru geto #jjk 0 #jujutsu kaisen 0 #poll results #batposting #batpostingships

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theaveragepsychoticbitch · 4 months

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Idk if the formatting will stay corrupted when I post this ask but it was mad regular when it was just sitting in my inbox?? but uh, Gods bless. I dont think I'm all that good at sub reader, and I may be ass at writing insecurities as I gotta be careful not to trigger myself lol, but I am gonna enjoy writing this thanks for requesting me beautiful (Also, I'm not much of a daddy person but I LOVE Master kinks.)

A/N: OMFG TUMBLR FUCKEF AND I HAD TO DELETE AND REWRITE EVERYTHINGGGG

I proofread like half of it yall imma do the rest in a couple days💀✋🏾

Fem!Sub!Insecure!Reader x Soft Dom Odin || NSFW lol || Breeding kink, Master/Slave use (ion know too much bout that dynamic lmao so you gon have to bare wit me), insecurities, and raw dogging (my staple)

Odin can't help but notice the slump of your shoulders, persistent ever since the other day. You'd gone to see Aphrodite for the first time, wanting to greet the entire greek pantheon personally upon your introduction as his wife. You left all smiles and laughter, yet despite saying it'd gone well, you possessed an air of sadness about you, and it's lingered throughout the week.

You sigh again, pulling him from his pondering. Your seat in the windowsill is backed by a view of the gray sky, ice cold rain pounding the glass. You have to be cold.

You jump upon finding your husband behind you, wrapping you lovingly in a thick blanket. The expression on his face is uncharacteristically soft, and in your heart you know he loves you... but why?

Why does he love you, when women as beautiful as Aphrodite exist? The lowest ranking goddesses glow with divinity, an inhuman shine to their very aura that you could never recreate. When you entered that room, you'd never felt more mortal. You were drawn to them, their beauty and grace calling out to you, leaving you with no choice but to gaze in awe.

You think you feel tears on your waterline.

How could he truly love you when surrounded by women like that?

"Women like that?"

You blink, feeling the warm tears slide down your cheeks as your face heats up. You didn't mean to say that aloud, by the gods. But it's too late now, and his simple question and deadpan face have broken the dams you worked so hard to maintain all week.

"Women like that! Like Aphrodite, like the other goddesses. They're beautiful my love, beautiful in a way I can't compare."

He tries to speak, but you rush over him, the snot filling your nose choking your speech and corrupting your voice. "How can you caress my scars when presented with unblemished skin? Look me in my eyes when theirs sparkle with such power? How can you even stand my voice! The goddesses of this forsaken place sound as lovely and hypnotic as sirens, even when their screeching at the top of their damned lungs!"

You cough, gasping for air. You hadn't taken a breath in that entire monologue. Your throat hurts from screaming, and at some point, you'd stood up and thrown away the cover he gave you. The cold air from the window spread goosebumps across your back, down your legs and arms. But it was fear that made you tremble, fear he'd see the logic in your words and leave you in the dust. Fear you'd walk the palace halls one day, haunted by the sounds of pleasure your husband brings out of other women, like so many wives here in Valhalla do now.

Your coughing dies out and leaves nothing but silence. Even your sniffling is quieted under his stare. The rain fades away and you find you can't even breathe as you wait for his word.

"I walk among these women everyday, yet you are the one I've chosen. Does that alone not set you apart from them?"

You blink at his tone– darkened with an unknown emotion, yet somehow still soft on your ears. His hand is on the small of your back, nudging you closer. The other cups your cheek.

"If you think yourself to be in a sea of gold, then you must be the diamond of the bunch. In my eyes, you shine brighter in your mortality then any divine being could ever hope to. Your scars are sweet against my lips, and your eyes as bright as the stars. Your voice is the one thing I bow to, my love, your beauty the one thing I praise."

It's silent again when he finishes, but you hear your heart breaking. Breaking for yourself, because how could you have been so blind? To ever in a million years think this man could do anything other than love you...

He chuckles, kissing your ear. "Say my name, Beloved."

Chaste kisses are placed softly about your face. Your forehead, your neck, your cheeks. And all the while you're crying, you love this man so much. "Odin..."

You try to pull back but find he's holding you to his chest. "Odin?"

"My name."

You blink, then smile. "Baby?"

He smiles into your neck, and you think he's having a rare cute moment. "Not that one."

Your smile takes on a confused twist.

Then, it hits you.

He chuckles again, this one filled with a bit of sadism.

"...Master?"

"Perfect."

In a show of heavenly strength you're transported from the window to the bed in the blink of an eye. As you sink into the bed, he tops you, fitting himself between your legs like coming home.

Your lips come together in a clash of lust and passion, the chastity of earlier long forgotten. Your hands tangle in his hair as he fondles you through your clothes. You could feel his hard on through his clothes, the familiar press against your heat filling you with... love?

Love... that's exactly what it was. You loved this, loved this treatment, loved to see your ever-quiet, ever-composed husband fall to pieces when he touched you. His stoic persona peeling back to reveal a man so head over heels he'd stomp on his pride in his rush to hump you like a dog in heat.

Hell, when he's fucking you like this, how could you have ever thought he'd leave?

Your right hand leaves his hair to help him tug at your clothes, the left sliding down to feel his muscles rippling under the skin of his back. He's finally gotten your chest bare, and latches onto the first nipple he sees, blindly working at the fabric to reveal the other tit. His battle-roughened fingers graze its peak, then pinch, hard enough to make you gasp and jump.

His tongue drags out similar sounds. Flicking the cute bud, circling it, right before sucking on it like it'd fix all his problems. Your fingers do away with his clothes with practiced motions as your eyes close, arching up into his touch.

You can hear him moaning almost silently as he kisses your chest, and you swear you hear him whisper, "Sweet."

You sigh at the feeling, at your adoration for this man.

He pulls back, and in the low light you admire the creases of his chest, the scars that litter his skin like stars in the sky. One hand parts your legs, spreading you open, admiring the sight of your clit twitching while arousal pours over your asscheeks to stain the sheets below.

His other hand takes your wrist to lay your palm flat over his heart. He's dragging your palm across his torso, over his heaviest scars, while rubbing electrifying circles into your clit. You tear up again as your legs twitch at the direct simulation. Even breathes turn to pants, and you feel your hips trying to rut into his touch. But your eyes never leave his. No, no– you hold his gaze and hone in on the feel of his skin on your hand, on the feel of realization like a new dawn in your mind.

"Do my scars horrify you?"

You can't tell if your tears are from pleasure or pain; the emotional kind. But they're pouring worse than the rain outside now, and you feel your nose getting stuffy again. "Of course not, my love."

He didn't mind the slip up this time. "If these do not cause aversion, how could your own bring you such despair?" Two fingers slipped inside you, and you gasp, fucking down on them instinctively. His thumb speeds up to match the pace of his fingers, and you pull him down into a kiss. His tongue tangles with yours, sucking on it and exploring your mouth. You kiss him back just as hard, running your teeth gently over his lips and tongue in turn.

"You are mine. You alone can see me like this. You alone can look at me like that, kiss me like that. I only want you–"

He smirks, and you think you're on the verge of cumming.

"Afterall, who else can take me so well? Who could look as pretty when I'm filling them up, watching my seed pour from their warmth? Do those goddesses beg like a good girl for me to stuff it back in? Present themselves as a willing slave, to be used until I've had enough? Until I've put a baby in them?"

Your eyes roll, your back arches, and the world turns white as you orgasm on his fingers. Trembles shake you, but big, comforting hands are working you through it so well. You rock into him until he pulls away, and despite the looming threat of overstimulation, you whine at the emptiness.

"Answer me, slave."

"N...no one, Master. No one except... Me."

You can't see it as your eyes are still closed, but he's smiling. Just a little, but it's full of more joy than a kid on Christmas.

A haze sits over your mind. His voice is the only thing you know now.

His thumbs take either side of your labia and spread you further, coaxing the juices out. He stares for a long time, unable to look away right up until his dick is so hard it aches. He forces his eyes to close, fumbling to pull it out. You both sigh when it slaps against your cunt.

"Please, Master... Cum inside me."

He looks up to find your eyes are just barely open and trained on him. His demeanor softens even more somehow, despite how out of place it seems.

"Anything for the prettiest girl in the world."

He slides in, fitting as though you were made for him. Your walls are warm and grip his cock like they missed it, arousal continuing to overflow and drizzle out, just barely able to slip around his cock. He puts a hand to your stomach, pressing down and make both your eyes roll as he feels how deep he is.

He thrusts– once, twice, rocking you, opening you up. From there on his pace builds to something fast and rough. Your nails drag down his back till blood is drawn, the pain fueling his manic humping. Screams of Master! Bounce through the air as he fucks you, drunk on the drag of his cock against your gspot. Your own hand goes down to rub at your throbbing clit as tears cloud your vision to the point of blindness.

When you arch, his hand is at the small of your back, helping you, holding you. Your bodies press together and you can't help but think, 'fuck. He's beautiful.'

You allow your eyes to close as a smile spreads across your face. Your husband is beautiful. So you are, you have to be,

"Beautiful."

Your eyes drift to your husband's face upon hearing his voice. Velvety and deep, and filled with roughness from his approaching orgasm. You laugh, a breathless thing. "You too, Master." You say, batting your lashes.

His chuckle is equally breathless, "'M gonna fill you up now, lovely girl. Take all of me."

An order, one you'd jump to obey.

You joined at the lips in a passionate kiss, your finger working your clit hard as the other hand holds the back of his neck. He holds your legs in a mating press and strokes deep, hitting your deepest spot before releasing inside with a shudder and groan.

You throw your head back as your own body freezes from the force of your orgasm. You're wracked by shudders and hear naught but the sounds of your own broken moans. You can feel him inside of you, spilling his seed for you alone to keep. It's warm, and you can't help but relax at the feeling.

Odin stays inside for long moments after, holding it in, before pulling out. You blink at the sudden loss, to exhausted to do much else. You let yourself be gathered in an embrace, lazily enjoy the soft kisses he presses to your face.

"In the morning, we'll shower. For now, we rest." You hum your affirmation. His arms are tight around your body. You have no choice but to sink into his embrace, sink into a deep, deep sleep.

Right before you drift off, you hear him whisper,

"I love you, my gorgeous wife."

You wish you'd stayed awake long enough to respond back.

-------

A/N: yes yes I know this and many other ask have been sitting in my inbox for months😓writing is hard okay?? And I am very very sleepy all the time. This was fun to write but god did I hate writing the smut. Ion know nothing about master kinks, I use them in my own lil way so the formal way is unknown to me😭but uhh, I hope you enjoyed, and requester if you see this I'm sorry🫶🏾🥹I love you🥲

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #snv odin #snv odin x reader #ror odin #odin x reader #odin #odin smut #ror odin x reader #the psychotics writing

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sundrop-writes · 4 months

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Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part Two: Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

Summary:

After having an argument with Gar that nearly ends your friendship, you decide to finally get over your fear of using your own powers and finally embrace them. If you do things just right, you could finally get everything that you (and Gar) have ever wanted.

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut, (Slight) Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 18,000

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst (due to the reader and Gar having emotional distance from having an argument at the end of the other chapter), (very light) canon level violence, mentions of medical experimentation/medical torture, the reader character has medical trauma from years of illness, mentions of medical debt, manipulation and emotional abuse (from Doctor Caulder toward Gar and the reader), mentions of burns/burn scarring, mention of the reader being abandoned by her parents, mentions of vomit (no graphic descriptions), the reader character has a seizure, (likely) improper first aid performed for a seizure, the reader has chronic illness/chronic pain, use of prescription medication, the reader is more feminine (wears lacy underwear), the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns.

This chapter contains smut - both dream fantasies and played out sexual acts. The reader character is mute but all consent is enthusiastic and clear, biting/marking kink, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (having sex in the communal area of a house - also, coincidentally, the sex fic I have read where characters have sex in a space that just happens to have a camera in it), scent kink, oral - reader receiving, multiple orgasms (reader receiving), (slight) overstimulation (reader receiving), hair pulling kink (Gar receiving), it’s implied that the reader and Gar are virgins but it’s not lingered on and it’s not a plot point of the fic, unprotected sex, creampie, penis in vagina sex, rough sex, (idk how to phrase it?) marriage kink/commitment kink, passionate sex/love making, Gar calls the reader ‘wife’ (in a fantasy sequence), some mentions of blood (the reader scratches Gar’s back and draws blood by accident), I believe that’s it.

A/N: I still think this is one of the most iconic things that I have ever written lmao. I love it so much and I'm so proud of it. Anyway, enjoy the repost.

...

After the argument, you didn’t see Gar for the rest of the day.

When Dick came in to check on your progress with training, he immediately questioned why Gar was missing. You made up a lame excuse about how he had been feeling sick (which had to be translated to Dick by Jason) and Dick complained that all of you had to learn to ‘work through’ things like illness, but at least he didn’t question why Gar had locked himself in his room for the rest of the night and didn’t come to dinner.

After you had washed the dishes and sulked through the rest of your nightly routine, you considered knocking on Gar’s bedroom door before finally going to bed yourself - but you just couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

You had truly hurt him, and you weren’t sure how you were going to recover from it.

As you laid in bed that night, so strung up with guilt that you couldn’t sleep, you stared at the ceiling. Of course, all you could think about was Gar.

You thought back to when you had first met him - going over those first days of your friendship in your mind. The undeniable way that the two of you were drawn so close together. In friendship or in that unutterable, constantly denied romance - the two of you were soulmates.

And you had fucked it all up.

You missed your best friend so badly. You wondered where it had all gone so wrong.

…

You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in.

Before him, before the serum, your last chance at moving out of the palliative care ward would have been offering your body as a live cadaver up for experiential treatment. It was something that might have put a dent in your medical debts, but it also would have meant a lot of pain and torture as your body was used as a trial for vastly experimental medicine and treatments - none of which were guaranteed to prolong your life as the deadly brain tumors grew to consume your brain, seemingly trapping you in a loop of pain and torture for those last few years that you had.

At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you.

He used the money he had from his dense inherited wealth to pay off all of the medical debt you had acquired from your lifetime of illness, giving you only one very small catch in the face of this intense generosity. He wanted your consent to try out his serum on you, claiming that it would either do nothing to change your condition, or it would be the magical cure-all that you had been looking for.

(He conveniently let out the fact that in your state of unwellness, with your weakened body, there was a large possibility that the serum could overwhelm your senses, stopping your heart - but that was a risk he was more than willing to take.)

Honestly - while you didn’t believe him - you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him down.

You had no other options, after all.

After he injected you with the serum and you woke up with your sight fully restored, you were shocked. It had somehow shrunk down the tumor in your brain enough that it was no longer pressing on your optic nerve, and you could once again experience the world in full, glorious vision.

It was something you were entirely excited by as you arrived at what would be your new home. Doctor Caulder had described it as a ‘vacuum of scientific advancement against the bureaucracy of the world’. Naturally, you had expected some kind of cold looking industrial building, another medical center that you would be trapped inside for years to come.

You certainly hadn’t thought that it would be a sprawling, gorgeous Victorian mansion in the secluded, peaceful countryside.

He brought you inside and set down your bag. You were too busy marveling at the details of the architecture, the stunning antique decorations, taking it all in after years of being deprived of sight to truly notice anyone else in the building at first.

You didn’t notice anyone else there until Doctor Caulder spoke to him.

“Ah, Garfield, I’m glad I caught you.”

You turned at the sound of someone’s name being called. Caulder had warned you that you would be living with several other people - people who he had helped and was continuing to help with their ‘unique conditions’.

When you looked over at him, the person that Doctor Caulder had called Garfield, the only truly unique thing you spotted about him was his bright green hair. That, and the fact that he was startlingly attractive.

Garfield paused his footing halfway down the hallway as Doctor Caulder spoke to him. When he turned back around to give the man his attention, you noticed that he had a candy bar poking out of his mouth as he held it there between his teeth, and a pair of large headphones over his ears with some kind of handheld gaming system in his hands. He reached up and moved one half of the headphones off to the side when he realized his full attention was needed. Then he bit off the candy bar, moving to shove the rest of it, mostly still wrapped, into the pocket of his large green hoodie.

“What’s up, Chief?” He asked, his mouth obviously stuck together by the candy and some chocolate slightly smeared on the side of his mouth.

“Garfield, please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Caulder - apparently the Chief, quickly scolded him.

You guessed that he found it rude because he was more uptight and proper, more old fashioned. But it was something that you easily found adorable and charming.

Garfield hung his head in shame and made a clear effort to swallow, running his tongue over his teeth to somewhat clean his mouth before he spoke again.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly. “Did you need something?”

It was then that he really eyed you up and down, as though he had just noticed you standing there.

You felt entirely out of place, but tried your best not to look nervous, and simply smiled as his eyes landed on your face. You noticed a small tinge of pink come over his cheeks when he finally made eye contact with you. His eyes made a quick jolt back to the carpet, obviously nervous and not wanting to linger on you.

“I’m sure you’ve heard Cliff mention my newest patient.” Doctor Caulder told him, gently motioning toward you. “Y/N will be staying with us for the foreseeable future while I explore her condition and any affects the serum has had on her.”

Garfield nodded at this. The wild tendrils of his green hair bobbed in a very adorable way with the motion, and you suppressed a giggle because of it.

“I’ll need you to show her around and help her get settled in for now, because I need to go up to my office and work on some notes while everything is still fresh in my mind. I’d like not to be disturbed for the next few hours, is that clear?” Doctor Caulder ordered, his voice calm, but oddly stern.

Garfield’s face twisted slightly into a frown, as though he was afraid of the possible consequences if he did disturb the man. But nonetheless, he nodded once again.

“Understood.” He said simply.

Doctor Caulder gave him a curt nod and then walked up the stairs, leaving you in the hands of your seemingly meek, very handsome tour guide.

He stepped toward you, and then realized the game console was still beeping in his hands. So he pushed a few buttons, shutting it off, and then he shoved it into his pocket as well before he slid his large headphones to sit around his neck.

“Hi, I’m Garfield. You probably heard that. But you can just call me Gar. I prefer it.” He rushed these words out in a puff of air, seemingly still very nervous to be in your presence.

You nodded at this. Before you could communicate in any way that you wouldn’t really be ‘calling’ him anything because of your mutism, he let out a huff - something akin to a nervous laugh and steamed rolled right into more conversation. He didn’t really seem to mind your silence.

“Y/N, right?” He posed, easily remembering your name from when Doctor Caulder had introduced you.

You nodded once again, giving him a small smile.

“That’s a really pretty name. It matches you. I mean- I-” He stumbled over his words, clearly nervous that he had unintentionally said something flirtatious. “I’m supposed to introduce you to everyone, right? Come on.”

He then took you on a tour of the sprawling house, his chatter filling the air in a most perfect way. The more he talked, the more he seemed to gain confidence around you. He became filled with energy, fueled by the things he was saying. Especially when he spoke about the house and the daily life that he lived there, pointing out the different rooms and where you could make yourself comfortable. His words filled the space so well that he didn’t seem to notice the fact that you couldn’t talk.

As he took you on the tour, you came across the different eclectic members of the household and Gar introduced you to them. And you very quickly came to realize what Doctor Caulder had meant by ‘unique conditions’.

If you didn’t have your vision freshly restored in order to see it, you likely wouldn’t have believed it. But they were very real.

Gar introduced you to Cliff - someone who looked more like a machine than a man, squeaky joints and all. But it quickly became apparent to you that he had a shining personality underneath all that metal, and his humanity wasn’t easily defined by something like rust and bolts. He was working on a half-disassembled car in the large garage, and Gar explained to you how the mostly mechanical man was an ex-racer who had gotten into a bad accident and been put back together by The Chief.

He then introduced you to Larry - who was in the kitchen, baking some kind of very tall, very impressive multi-layered cake (apparently in celebration of your arrival). He made a comment about you ‘being rather quiet’ and you just shrugged. They would probably be amused later when they found out why.

Larry didn’t want to comment much or explain the reason that his entire body was covered in bandages, and you understood why. In your mind, you assumed that he had been badly burned and the bandages covered some kind of scarring. The visual reminded you of people who had passed through the palliative care ward with severe burns over their bodies and didn’t survive long because of it. But he seemed to move without pain and he was obviously thriving, so whatever Doctor Caulder had done for him - it had worked.

Gar tried to introduce you to the last member of the household - Rita - but when he knocked on her bedroom door, he was met with silence. He simply told you that she likely wasn’t feeling well. And that you understood deeply as well.

The house tour extended down into the basement, because Gar was very excited to show you his room. You couldn’t bring yourself to disrupt his rolling speech or dampen down his swell of excitable energy.

He was showing you some of his movie posters - something for a movie called Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. It was a movie you had never heard of before, and you only found yourself truly paying attention in order to learn about it now because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm.

“-it’s considered one of the first examples of parody ever in cinema, an effort to take horror, something that truly terrified audiences at the time, and turn it comedic. Like shining a light on that monster under the bed so he’s no longer scary. It’s brilliant.”

Gar rambled on, his breath almost entirely escaping him as his enthusiasm overpowered his lungs.

You couldn’t help but to feel a swell of fondness as you looked at him.

His passion was so intensely palpable, it gave you goosebumps. It was a very old film that you likely wouldn’t have taken an interest in. But the way he talked about it - like it was revolutionary, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It made you want to watch it ten times just to get to know him better, just to have a small taste of the passion that he felt so epically for it.

You didn’t know it then, but feeling his overwhelming enthusiasm spreading in the air was the beginnings of your very intense crush on him. It was the moment that you started falling for him.

“You know originally, Lou Costello scoffed at the idea of even making-” Gar suddenly cut himself off, a look of dawning crossing his features. “Woah, I’ve been talking for such a long time, haven’t I?”

Technically, yes.

But you would have been perfectly content to stand there and listen to him talk for hours more about this film or any of the others related to posters that he had on the wall. His enthusiasm and the way it was backed up by factual knowledge made him endlessly interesting to listen to.

In response, you simply shrugged.

Yes, he had been talking for a long time. But - you enjoyed listening. His tone and the abrupt way he had cut himself off made it sound like he had burdened you with his ramblings, and you weren’t sure why.

“Sorry.” He giggled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I’m probably being so annoying. I haven’t even let you talk about yourself at all. What - what kind of movies do you like?”

He seemed nervous suddenly, as though he had become self conscious in the conversation.

You filled with nerves as well, coming to the realization that you would now have to communicate to him that you couldn’t talk.

You motioned toward your throat, hoping he would be able to see the scar from the surgery that had stolen your ability to speak so long ago. Rather than understanding, Gar’s face knit with confusion.

“What, did the sea witch steal your voice?” He asked. The action reminded him a lot of that cartoon mermaid, desperately tapping on her throat, trying to explain to others why she couldn’t speak. “Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?”

The words escaped him before he could stop it - and then he realized that it sounded entirely more flirtatious than he intended.

He bit his lip nervously and you let out a giggle. You became entirely overwhelmed by your own nerves, and your undeniable attraction toward him. If you were feeling at all bold, you might have leaned over and kissed him in that moment. But something in the back of your mind told you that it was rude - that he hadn’t truly meant it, that it was strange to come onto him so soon after meeting him.

When the awkwardness swelled inside of him, he rushed to speak again.

“Sorry,” He blurted out. “That was probably insensitive. If you’re really mute, that’s like a disability, and you shouldn’t make jokes about people’s disabilities-”

You vigorously shook your head, meaning to tell him that ‘no, I liked the joke’.

But his eyes instantly grew wide, believing that you were shaking your head negatively, believing that he was truly being insensitive and rude.

You raised your hands and began explaining it in sign language, and he sighed in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I don’t - I don’t understand.”

Then, a look of dawning came over his face so strong it was almost as if a cartoon lightbulb appeared over his head. He then rushed into the other room - there was some ripping of paper (what you didn’t know was him ripping pages he had used out of a notebook so that you wouldn’t see them). After a moment, he rushed back toward you, thrusting a notebook and a pen in your direction.

You took it happily, and began writing.

‘Yes, I am completely mute. Yes, it is technically a disability. And yes, I did think your joke about the sea witch was funny. But… I don’t think a kiss from a prince will fix me.’

You passed it to him and after he read it, he gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah, that wasn’t so smooth on my part.” He said. “What happened? To your voice?”

You explained it to him. You spent a long time passing the notebook back and forth, explaining things to him about yourself and your life.

You told him how you had been ill for as long as you could remember, and it had only gotten worse as you progressed into your teen years. And eventually, the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down. They had left you orphaned in the most cruel way.

Gar’s eyes danced with tears when he read this. You didn’t know it then, but he vowed to himself that he would always be by your side. He would be the one person who never left you, no matter what happened in life that might try to draw the two of you apart.

‘Can I ask you something?’ You scrawled out, passing the notebook to Gar with careful curiosity on your mind.

“Yeah, anything.” He replied.

‘Why are you here? What is Doctor Caulder helping you with?’

You were tempted to add on something about how he ‘looked normal’ - but you didn’t want to accidentally insult him.

“My condition… it’s uh…” Gar stuttered through his attempt at an explanation, and confusion flooded your features. “It’s probably just easier if I show you?”

You nodded in acknowledgement that you understood, and Gar put the notebook aside and stood from the couch where the two of you had been seated, talking for hours.

“Would you - uh - would you mind closing your eyes for a second?” He asked, once again draped in that nervous energy.

You hesitated for a second, but then complied. You weren’t sure how him ‘showing’ you would go if you had your eyes closed. But you trusted him to harness in that condition - whatever strange ability the serum had given and not let it hurt you. You felt safe around him even though you had only known him for a short time. And you wanted to make him comfortable rather than arguing about it.

You were curious when you heard some gentle rustling, and you cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones. You hoped that whatever he was doing, it didn’t cause him any pain.

Your curiosity became too great and you opened your eyes when you heard a low rumbling. If you weren’t mistaken, it sounded like the purring of a very large cat.

Shock instantly overtook you when you opened your eyes to see that standing in front of you in the middle of the carpet - rather than Gar - there was a very large tiger with bright green fur. When your sight had been restored, you never, ever thought that this would be one of the first things you would get to see.

Your first instinct was to pull your feet up onto the couch, and the tiger - which you quickly had to reason was Gar, who had somehow shifted his body into a different form - hung his head in shame when he saw the fear overtake your body. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You shouldn’t be, right? He had been nothing but kind to you since the two of you had met. He wouldn’t use this odd power to endanger you.

When you looked into those large animal eyes, you saw nothing but kindness. And you couldn’t resist the urge to step off the couch and lean out, petting a hand gently under his furry chin.

It was then that you were struck with the realization. The dream you had of being married to a large green tiger - it had likely meant something.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on it.

Instead, you scratched under his chin and he purred, and you giggled at the fact that such a large, possibly terrifying animal was so docile under your touch.

(When Gar transformed back, you would deny that you snuck a glance at him changing back into his clothes. And you would definitely deny that you became obsessed with what you saw.)

…

Later that night, you met Rita when she came down to join everyone for dinner. She was a lovely, sweet woman. She was actually the only person (aside from Doctor Caulder) at the table who understood your ASL, though she didn’t seem eager to explain where she had learned it. You knew that everyone in the house had somewhat of a painful past, so you didn’t bother to ask.

The cake Larry had made turned out beautiful. A towering masterpiece that everyone had to purposefully crane their necks around as they spoke to each other. You couldn’t help but marvel in wonder at it and the rest of the amazing spread he had made. Gar told you that it really wasn’t that out of the ordinary, seeing as cooking was Larry’s favorite hobby.

You felt slightly bad for Cliff - seeing as he sat with an empty plate in front of him. But he seemed to show up to the meal mostly out of habit, family obligation, and a slight curiosity to get to know you. So you tried your best to answer everyone’s questions and be welcoming to the new friendships.

You enjoyed the meal well. Everything was delicious, and compared to the food you once ate on the ward - it was heaven. Everything seemed to be going perfectly.

Larry cut the cake and made sure that you got the first slice - which you selected from the towering variety of many different flavors. He cited that he didn’t know what your favorite flavor was, so he made a good variety as insurance. The taste of lemon was sweet on your tongue and you were enjoying yourself - when one of the lights began flickering.

It was just a few flashes above your head, just for a few moments, but it was enough to send a sharp pain shooting through the middle of your forehead and instantaneously cause a wave of nausea through your stomach. You dropped your fork onto your plate with a clatter, and everyone craned their necks around the towering cake to look at you. Gar immediately got up from his chair to rush to your side, wondering what was wrong.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly.

Your senses were overwhelmed by dizziness, a horrid feeling that your eyes were churning inside of your skull. Sharp waves of pain radiated out from the middle of your forehead and seemingly caused the world to turn wildly underneath your feet.

You didn’t know that the harsh unwellness was visible all over your face - from your unpleasant expression to the light layer of sweat that had so quickly formed over your skin.

You shook your head, attempting to confirm to him that you were not okay. But this only caused the pain to worsen, and you held back a harsh gag, trying your hardest to keep the amazing dinner inside.

“You need to lay down.” Gar said quietly.

You felt safe under his touch and you let him guide you as he pulled out your chair. He put one hand around your back and used the other to take your hand as he helped you up and guided you away. You let your eyes fall closed against the harsh light as his hand came to rest on your waist, a calming comfort against the harsh pain throbbing through you. You let yourself lean on him for support as he did as promised - took you to lay down.

You were partway up the stairs when a voice disrupted you.

“Garfield.”

Doctor Caulder called after him harshly, causing Gar to pause his movements. You leaned on the bannister and kept your eyes closed. You had to concentrate hard on willing yourself not to vomit while Gar was distracted with the conversation.

“This is an important opportunity to study her condition, you should be taking her to-” Caulder began to argue against Gar’s actions, but he was cut off.

“She needs to lay down.” Gar argued quietly. “She’s had a long day. She needs rest. You can do your studies tomorrow.”

You didn’t know it, but this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything. Doctor Caulder stood there in shock at Gar’s sudden shift in attitude while Gar put a hand on your lower back once again and helped you the rest of the way up the stairs.

He helped you into bed and pulled the covers over you. And then he got a hot cloth to put on your forehead, and got a bucket to put beside the bed in case you did throw up. It was then that you knew you would never feel properly cared for again unless it came from him.

When he thought that you weren’t paying attention, half sleepy and half drowned in the pain, he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead, right above the cloth.

…

Later that night, after everyone had fallen asleep, Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL. He was especially careful that his teeth didn’t pierce any of the pages.

He used the rest of the night to study, and he greeted you the next morning with a tray of gentle breakfast food (porridge, hopefully something that wouldn’t aggravate your upset stomach) and Advil. Despite the pain throbbing through your head, you broke into a beaming smile when he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you.

It was then that you realized just how much you were going to have to suppress your feelings for him.

…

Later in the day, Doctor Caulder was carrying out his tests as promised.

He had you in a different part of the basement - in an area that essentially looked like an operating room. Just seeing the tables and all the cold medical equipment triggered a lot of your fight or flight instincts, but you tried your hardest to remain calm. Especially because Gar was by your side, even though he likely could have been playing video games or doing something else a lot more fun. He told you that he would stay by you the entire time to make sure that you were comfortable.

You tried to relax and trust the process.

Doctor Caulder had adjusted the table, propping up the top of it so that it was much more like a chair. And he had wheeled in a large machine that consisted of a series of lightbulbs - something that turned out to be a strobe light, set to make specific patterns. He had taped several electrical probes to your head, ones connected to an EEG machine. Although he knew that this procedure was likely to trigger a seizure, he said that it was important for it to occur because your neurological problems were closely tied to your powers, and the areas of the brain that the serum had affected. He said that it was something important to measure - even if a seizure happened.

“Just face forward, and keep looking into the light.” Doctor Caulder explained. “It will go through a series of flashing patterns. I need you to try your hardest to keep your eyes open, and stay focused. It’s important that we record your brain activity while this is happening without disruption.”

You nodded in affirmation. You weren’t looking forward to the pain that it would cause considering that your head was still thumping with a migraine from the night before, but if he considered it necessary, you would do it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gar asked. “How do you know this isn’t just gonna cause more harm?”

He was standing beside the table, holding your hand, and you were entirely grateful for his presence there.

He had seen the way you had reacted to a relatively dim chandelier bulb flickering at dinner the night before. He thought that this would be disastrous.

“Garfield, if you continue to question me, then I’ll have to ask you to leave.” Doctor Caulder told him curtly. “You can’t keep disrupting the process like this. We need to move forward.”

Doctor Caulder glared at Gar, giving him a moment to make his choice. To see if he was going to speak up and argue or remain quiet. Gar looked to you, wanting to see if you were truly okay with all of this. Nerves boiled in your stomach, but you feigned a smile, and squeezed his hand tighter, assuring him that you needed him there - right by your side.

Gar then nodded at Doctor Caulder, who stood behind the machine with the lights and turned it on. Gar flinched hard against the lights as they began to flicker. He turned his head away and closed his eyes, but he kept a tight hold on your hand.

Though it went against every screaming, pained nerve in your body, especially the ones pulsing through your head - you fought to keep your eyes open. Your carefully tuned hearing picked up on the scribbling needles of the EEG machine, Gar’s breathing. You could even hear the electricity sizzling in the bulbs as they went through three long flashes and then turned off. Three long flashes, and then off.

You survived the first pattern well before it switched to two quick flashes and then a period of seemingly prolonged darkness - something that wasn’t any more than three whole seconds in reality.

The moment that it switched to the intense, rapid strobing - you felt it. The tingling in your hands, the dizzying haze that said you were only moments away from having a seizure.

You had no time to warn either of them, especially considering that this was the first seizure you had post-serum, and it had unexpected size effects.

As your muscles became tight and your body began to violently seize, the house itself began to quake around you. It was as though the building were at the epicenter of a violent earthquake. Later, Doctor Caulder would come to the conclusion that your seizures now caused ‘rapid bursts of psychic energy’ to be released from you, completely uncontrolled by you. He realized that you would be needed to put on a high dose seizure medication to prevent any further incidents.

In those moments, though, it was chaos.

Between the shaking of the house underneath you and the unpredictable seizing of your muscles, you quickly rolled off the table. Gar easily caught you in a moment’s notice. Across the room, Doctor Caulder made a similar movement - reaching urgently to catch the EEG machine before it fell off of its own table.

When the quaking stopped, and you were left quivering in Gar’s arms, he couldn’t help but to feel a rush of disappointment as he saw the obvious play out before his eyes - Doctor Caulder was far more eager to save his data, to preserve the research that you had given him than to actually take care of you - his patient who was clearly in need.

“What was that?” Gar breathed out, looking from your unconscious face to the surrounding room. He didn’t think that it was a large coincidence that an earthquake had struck at the exact same time as your seizure and had lasted exactly as long.

“I believe that her powers were responsible for that.” Doctor Caulder theorized. “We’ll likely have to do more research to fully comprehend it-”

He abruptly cut off his own words when the scribbling needles of the EEG machine stopped.

Gar began peeling the probes off your forehead and Doctor Caulder only looked up toward you when the EEG flatlined as it was disconnected.

“Garfield, what do you think you’re doing?” Caulder barked at him.

“We’re done right now.” Gar said, his voice choked off by his anger. “Clearly, this isn’t helping. She needs rest.”

Gar resisted the urge to say more. He resisted the urge to berate Doctor Caulder for harming you. He resisted the urge to swear. He resisted the urge to threaten to run away with you - taking away Doctor Caulder’s precious source of research so that the two of you would never be seen again.

He had no clue that his anger was so intense that it flared up in his eyes, threatened to invoke his transformation against his will.

He felt calmer when he looked down at you, and petted a hand across your forehead. Although you were forced into unconsciousness because of the seizure, you looked peaceful and calm with your face so still, your eyes closed and your muscles finally relaxed. He hoped that you would feel better soon.

That was the day Doctor Caulder decided to start keeping a tranq gun near the operating table.

…

Things were quiet for a few days after that.

Doctor Caulder said that he needed time to go over the results of the EEG, and he didn’t want to induce anymore seizures in you for fear that it might bring down the house. So he did let you rest.

But in the interim, he didn’t check up on you or attend to any of your medical needs. He locked himself in his office to contemplate the science of it all while Gar stuck by your side. He held the bucket and rubbed your back while you puked, he held a hot cloth to your forehead when you needed it. He held a spoon up to your lips to feed you because your hands were too weak after being rocked by such a harsh seizure.

After a few days, you were almost thankful to Doctor Caulder for it. You and Gar were growing incredibly close so quickly because he refused to leave your side, and you had never felt so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

You hesitated when Doctor Caulder called you into his office upstairs.

He made a poor apology for the incident with the lights. He said that he was sorry for causing you pain, but it was ‘necessary’ to explore your condition, to map your brain and find out how the serum had affected you.

He said that the next step would be further exploring your strange powers. The powers you had accidentally discovered while transitioning out of the hospital. When one of the nurses had been attending to you, you had looked into her eyes, and you couldn’t even fully identify the feeling at the time. But suddenly, you knew this shocking, painful information. One of the other patients on the ward who you had come to know as a friend wasn’t going to live much longer. And when you had asked the nurse about it, she had accused you of snooping, reading through files - because the information was supposed to be confidential.

But Doctor Caulder - who had witnessed the conversation - easily saw it for what it truly was. An unnatural power given to you by his serum.

He then called Gar into his office as well - someone you obviously trusted and could work well with.

He set it up as a game.

He had written down several things on flashcards. You and Gar would sit across from each other, and Gar would read one of the flashcards, fully capturing the idea in his mind. And then you would use your powers to try and push into his mind - figuring out what was on the card without him ever speaking a single word or giving any hints.

As you sat across from him, preparing to begin, you were incredibly hesitant.

‘Are you sure about this?’

You wrote this as a message to Gar on one of the blank index cards. They were intended for you to write the answers that you retrieved from his mind during the ‘game’. You intentionally held back with the message, not fully describing your worries. You wanted to ask if he was okay with you breaching the privacy of his mind, but you were worried about Doctor Caulder seeing it, because you knew the man didn’t like to be questioned.

You flipped it around to show Gar, and he simply nodded after he read it.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Gar assured you with a smile. “It’s just a game, right?” He grinned. “It’ll be fun.”

You didn’t quite think so. But you tried to take on his positive attitude.

“Let’s begin.” Caulder said. He was standing behind Gar in a very imposing manner, reading the cards as well to ensure that he didn’t flub the answers just to please the Doctor.

Gar picked up the first card and read it, and he concentrated on it for a moment, making sure that the idea was focused in his mind. He gave a small nod, and then looked up toward you, knowing that he had to make steady eye contact with you in order for you to use your powers.

Pushing past your discomfort, you did as you had been instructed. You stared deep into those big beautiful brown eyes, and you purposefully breached the surface into his mind. The first thing you were met with was a rich visual of several golden retriever puppies frolicking in a field of grass, happily yipping and prancing around, almost tripping over their clumsy new feet.

You soon withdrew - even though it was a happy scene that gave you joy, you knew that you had the answer. You had an unconscious grin on your face, and that easily made Gar giggle as you flipped over the message you had made to him and wrote down your answer on the other side.

‘Puppies’

You lifted up the card and showed it to Doctor Caulder, who took a glance down at the card in Gar’s hand (which said ‘DOG’). He nodded at you, his stern face not flexing for a moment to show any sign of positivity. He picked up a clipboard from a small table on the chair beside Gar and began furiously scribbling.

“Continue.” He said, not looking up from his fast paced notes.

Gar looked down at the next card, took the same moment of concentration, and then looked back at you with a small grin on his face.

This time, rather than feeling like you were committing some kind of crime or doing him a grand disservice, you looked into his eyes and pushed into his mind with a gleeful joy - as though the two of you were sharing a delightful secret.

The next rich visual you saw featured Gar himself. He wore a pair of tight jeans and a leather jacket with some red tee shirt underneath, and he walked up to a red car - a very fancy, vintage looking car. He opened the door, got inside, and adjusted the mirror to look at himself before he stomped on the gas pedal and the car sped away with a screech. It was a very ‘cool guy’ moment, something that made you giggle because of the stereotypical absurdity of it.

When you drifted back into the real world, you went to the next index card, and had more of a difficult time figuring out how to phrase your answer.

You went with:

‘Driving a car?’

When you held it up to show Doctor Caulder, he checked Gar’s card, which simply said ‘CAR’. He frowned, and you thought that you had gotten the answer wrong.

“You have to concentrate more, Garfield.” Caulder scolded him.

Gar’s face dropped into a frown, and it made your chest twinge with sourness. You thought that a face as sweet as his should never have to frown.

“You got it right.” He told you quietly, before flipping to the next one.

You nodded. You hated the way that Caulder treated him. If you could scream at the man, you would.

Gar waffled for a few moments, looking at the card with blank eyes before he then looked up at you. There was a slight glassiness swimming there that told you he was ready to cry, along with the hesitation of a quivering lip. You wanted to end the entire exercise and simply retreat to the basement to play video games with him, but you knew that Caulder likely wouldn’t let you get away with that.

So you continued.

You used your powers once again, purposefully entering Gar’s mind.

You were surprised by the scene you were met with.

It was a vision of you and Gar - it was almost like a beautiful painting, like a fantastic daydream.

You were off in some grassy field, seemingly the same place the puppies had been. Lush greenery, boundless blue skies, warm sunshine that you could almost feel tingling against your skin. The two of you were holding hands - and the most peculiar thing that stuck out to you?

Your attire.

Gar was wearing a formal black suit with a green tie and a green vest to match his naturally wild green hair. You were wearing a long, lacy white dress that you couldn’t mistake for anything other than a wedding dress. There was a bundle of flowers looped around your head in a large crown, with a long, flowy lace veil going down your back, and a bundle of flowers in your free hand that wasn’t holding his.

It was a wedding, a marriage.

At the time, however foolish it was, you didn’t consider the scene to be any specific desire on Gar’s part. You simply thought that he was trying to communicate the idea - the concept to you. You thought that it was just part of the game.

When you pulled yourself back to reality, you felt entirely confident in your answer as you wrote it down.

‘A wedding’

When you flipped it over to show them, you were grinning proudly.

Gar’s face immediately dropped - embarrassment clutched at his stomach and panic overtook him. Caulder sighed with annoyance as he looked at Gar’s card, which said ‘WATER’.

Before any further discussion of it could be had, Gar dropped the cards and they scattered over the floor. He rushed out of the room, moving so swiftly that he was practically a blur. Doctor Caulder called after him, complaints wafting through the air.

You didn’t care to listen to the man. You got up and chased him, almost tripping over your own feet to get to him.

You caught him as he zipped up his jacket, clearly ready to escape out the basement door and go into town (something he told you he was not permitted to do, but often did anyway). You stepped right in front of his path. He sighed hard through his nose and tried to dodge you, and you stepped in front of him and kept blocking him. Eventually, he was forced to look up at you.

It was then - when you saw the look of a truly kicked puppy spread across his features, naked embarrassment lingering in his eyes - that the truth clutched at your stomach. You got the sense that what you had seen was truly private.

Part of you wanted to prod at him about his desires and ask why he had been thinking about that. But a larger part of you worried far more about the fact that you had upset him with the freakish invasion by your powers, and you wanted to remedy it. You wanted to save this amazing new friendship.

With the index cards and pen still in your hand, you quickly wrote a message to him.

‘I’m sorry.’

You wrote down, and then quickly flipped it to show him.

“It’s fine.” He huffed, clearly eager to escape the conversation.

Once again, he tried to dodge around you.

Once again, you blocked his path.

And then, you wrote down something else to show him.

‘It’s not fine. I shouldn’t use my powers on you like it’s a game.’

“The Chief needs to explore your abilities, right?” Gar sighed quietly.

‘Not at your expense.’ You reasoned.

Gar was silent when he came into this information - like this was the first time he had ever truly considered that the Chief’s methods were unethical.

‘We should make a deal. I shouldn’t use my powers on you unless it’s an emergency. Your mind should be your private space. I don’t get to go poking around in there for fun.’

You scribbled this down with haste, feeling very emotional about it. Then you handed it to Gar.

He gave a small smile and nodded after he read it.

“That - uh - that sounds fair.” He said, chuckling nervously. “And we… we don’t have to talk about what you saw.”

You both nodded and dissolved into giggles at this. And then, he took off his jacket, and fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead to help the two of you forget about the whole thing.

…

Back in your room at Titans Tower, so long after those first amazing days of your friendship with Gar - you fell asleep deep in thought about him. You couldn’t stop going over those early days in your mind. Thinking about all the intense kindness he had given you when the two of you had first met.

Thinking about all of it truly made you realize how badly you had fucked up. You genuinely wondered if your friendship with him would ever have any chance at recovering from the cruelty you had shown him.

You were genuinely stuck between a rock and a hard place. You thought that if you told him about the things that had happened - about the visions you had seen - even if you stressed to him that it had been by accident, then he would feel that you had violated his privacy. He would be wounded by you seeing into his mind and not reporting it to him right away. He would be upset that your powers had put a wedge between the two of you. And now, he was upset because you had stolen his secrets and you weren’t confiding any of yours in him.

You were a bad friend. And you didn’t know how to make it up to him.

You woke up the next day feeling like crap.

You quickly realized that Gar was avoiding you. He did finally come out of his room because Dick banged on his bedroom door, demanding in a harsh voice that if his illness was really that serious, he needed to get it checked out. And Gar came out shoving a hoodie over his head saying that he was fine - while wearing the saddest expression you had seen over his face in a long time.

When you placed a coffee cup down in front of him as a peace offering - dark roast filled one third with vegan marshmallow flavored creamer, just how he liked it - he distinctly ignored it. He didn’t even look at you as he got up from the breakfast bar stool, taking nothing more than a dry piece of toast for breakfast before he stormed off toward the training room.

He placed himself in a secluded corner of the gym with his headphones blasting music, doing harsh pushups and pummeling the punching bag. He was making it very clear that he wanted to be left alone. And even when Dick called all four of you into another room for a verbal quiz on The Art of War (where you wrote down your answers on a white board) - Gar refused to make eye contact with you.

Even when you drew a satirical comic of Dick’s Robin cape being propelled by a fart (that you labeled ‘pent up aggression’) - Gar’s face didn’t flinch from the hard stone it had been set into. It made Jason snort water out of his nose and caused Rachel to call you both ‘immature’. And it got you a verbal lashing from Dick and three weeks of washing the dishes - by hand. So not worth it considering that Gar hadn’t even cracked a smile.

Gar’s cold indifference toward you rolled right into dinner. Gar didn’t flinch or try to take sides when Jason and Rachel broke into an argument about what had happened during game night. Jason brought up how stupid the concept of the game had been and he and Rachel began arguing about the rules.

(“If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!”

“That’s not how it works, dickweed! Trivia is supposed to be difficult because you don’t know the answers!”

“So not true. Trivia is a test of memory. How am I even supposed to remember the answer if I don’t know the damn source material?!”)

The argument lasted long enough for you to finish your meal.

When Dick realized they were debating who was the true loser of the bet you had made, he pointed out that regardless of any bets, you had to do the dishes as punishment for the dumb little drawing you had made. You didn’t care all that much as long as it got Jason and Rachel to shut up - but Jason was all too smug about it as he handed you his plate. Once you had finished cleaning up, something you found oddly calming, a nice distraction from the chaos of the last few days - you found yourself wandering to Rachel’s door.

Much like you, she didn’t talk about her powers often.

Especially not since she had been tricked into summoning her demon father to earth and then she had been forced to kill him because of what he did to all her friends - the people she considered family. But you knew that like you, she had some kind of capability to see into other people’s minds - to delve into their memories or walk the long, winding halls of their thoughts. You knew she might be the only other person on earth who might be able to understand what you were going through. Someone who could give you some kind of solid advice about it.

After steeling yourself with a sharp breath, you raised your hand and knocked, waiting to see if she would even answer. The music that she was playing stopped, and after a moment, she opened the door, a look of surprise knitting over her features when her eyes fell upon you.

“Y/N.” She greeted you in a quiet voice. “What is it?”

‘I need to talk to you.’ You signed to her. You had some hope that she would understand what you meant, but her face was immediately overtaken with confusion.

“I’m sorry - I.” She sighed, quickly cutting herself off, looking for the right words to explain it. “Between Dick’s whole list of mandatory reading stuff, and the sparring practice… I’ve been meaning to, but I haven’t had any time to study sign language,”

She had genuine regret in her voice, which you could appreciate.

You exhaled through your nose, a deep sigh.

You gently pushed past her, inviting yourself into her room to settle in for the conversation. It did frustrate you that ASL wasn’t just a common language that was taught in schools, especially because it was psychologically proven that it was easy for toddlers to pick up on it with their brains being at a developmental age for it. It frustrated you that sometimes it was difficult for you to communicate with the people around you. But you tried not to let it get to you often.

You got your cell phone out of your pocket, gesturing with it to let her know you would be texting her the things you needed to say. It was a simple, easy system. You invited yourself to sit on her bed, flopping back among the messy, unmade dark sheets as you carefully chose and typed out the words you needed to say. Rachel settled back into her desk chair, turning on her music once more, adjusting the volume to a low hum that settled into the background. You recognized it as the Arctic Monkeys and silently admired her taste in music.

‘Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?’

You sent the message. It took only a moment to race through cyberspace and you heard Rachel’s phone ping where it sat on the desk beside her.

She picked up the phone and looked at your message. She then looked back at you with her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought pulling them tight together.

“Well there was that one time I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” She began.

You cut her off with a raised hand and a pair of wide eyes glaring her down.

You looked back to your phone and began typing another message, wanting to clarify what you meant.

‘With your powers. Have you ever seen something with your powers that you didn’t want to see?’ You typed it out quickly, hitting send.

Rachel read it over, placing her phone against her chin pensively as she contemplated the answer.

“I… I don’t know.” Her voice was thick with thought. “I used to have these horrible nightmares. Almost every single night. And now I realize that those nightmares are what led me here. And I wouldn’t have been able to stop Trigon if I hadn’t seen those things.”

Your throat tightened up.

You and Rachel had never really talked like this before. You almost felt bad asking her for advice, knowing your problems were very different from hers. Quite pedestrian compared to the woes of somebody who had literally stopped the apocalypse and saved your life, and everyone else’s. You were worried about a school girl crush and she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Why, what did you see?” Her curiosity leaked through her lips. She had quickly connected the dots to realize that you wouldn’t be asking questions like this if you hadn’t seen something of significance.

Naturally, you weren’t going to tell her the details. Not only because the things you had seen were incredibly graphic, revealing, and private, but because you did suspect that she had some kind of small crush on Gar. And you didn’t want to crush her small hope of being with him and make her upset. Especially considering you had seen what she could do when she was upset.

You opened the one-way text conversation and thought for a moment, carefully contemplating what you would tell her.

‘I saw something private. Something I probably wasn’t supposed to see.’ You sent the vague words, and she read them over quickly.

“What, like a sex dream?” She posed.

There was a laugh on the edge of her voice, as though she was only joking. But the accuracy of the comedic prod scared you. You wanted to change the topic quickly - before she truly sniffed out the truth.

‘Doesn’t matter.’ You sent quickly. When she saw the three small bubbles pop up, indicating that you were typing more, she simply waited. ‘Have you ever felt weird acting on information you’ve gotten from your dreams? Doesn’t it feel like cheating the system? Like you should just shut up and pretend to be normal?’

Rachel sighed, a sharp breath that clung to the insides of her throat. She placed her phone down in her lap and leaned back in her desk chair, swaying slightly with the swivel of the rolling chair’s base.

“I don’t think any of us can just pretend to be normal.” She noted quietly.

Rachel’s words were calm and wise. It was something she had probably realized about herself a long time ago. It was a truth you had yet to fall to. You caught glimpses of the future in your dreams, you could see things about people they never dared to admit to themselves. You were in love with a man who could turn himself into a tiger at will, and yet, your heart still cried for something that resembled ‘normal’.

Rachel saw it written all over your face - that warring. And more of that oddly aged wisdom came pouring from her lips before she could stop it.

“What’s that saying?” She pondered aloud. “‘What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.’”

It was a saying you had never heard of before, but it was oddly comforting in those moments. The idea that ‘normal’ means something drastically different for everyone.

When you didn’t say anything, didn’t pick up your phone to start typing, Rachel continued.

“I mean, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be the spider, or the fly, but…”

She trailed off for a moment, getting lost in thought. She looked up at you when she had found the proper words, her eyes filled with a steely determination.

“Look, somehow, I saved Dawn from a coma.” She firmly reminded you. “She didn’t give me an open invitation to go poking around inside her brain, but she needed me. And I needed her. I know having the ability to see inside people’s minds can be weird. But you shouldn’t just go around pretending you can’t do it because you’re afraid you’ll hurt people’s feelings, or whatever. You could save their lives.”

You knew the information you had obtained wasn’t exactly life saving, but she had a point. An excellent one. Maybe the reason your powers were acting up like this was because Gar was reaching out to you. Maybe it was because he had felt the same way about you for a long time now and he didn’t have the guts to tell you either. So unconsciously, he was reaching out, trying to show you his feelings so he wouldn’t have to risk getting hurt.

‘Thank you. That actually really helps.’ You sent the message and gave her a smile, hopping off the bed and leaving the room once again.

…

You had some time to kill before going to talk to Gar.

You really wanted to talk to him this time - truly wanted to conquer everything you had been holding back over these past few days. So you were hoping that everyone else would be in bed asleep so they couldn’t interrupt the two of you.

You took up some of the time with a nice, long shower. Which was partially interrupted by Jason banging on the bathroom door, complaining about how long you were taking - once again. And you took your time getting ready afterwards.

You did your hair neatly and smoothed nice smelling lotion all over your skin. Of course, the thought did occur to you that the ‘conversation’ could lead to you and Gar having sex. That’s what had been so prominently on his mind for the past few weeks. That thought likely did influence your decision to put on a pair of skimpy, cute lace underwear and forego wearing a bra underneath your pajamas. A thin matchy cotton tank top and shorts set.

Your stomach was ripe with bubbles, absolutely full of air and anxiety as you sat on your bed, waiting for more time to pass. There was a book in your hand that you barely knew the name or contents of as you tried to kill more time. Your eyes flicked over to the clock. It was almost one in the morning. Surely you had waited long enough.

You didn’t bother with socks or slippers, your cold feet eager and quiet on the floor as you sneaked your way to Gar’s room. You were surprised to find empty, his wide open door revealing a messy, unmade bed without him in it. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, almost losing your courage and going back to bed.

But then your eyes landed on his nightstand.

There was a wide picture frame holding the picture of him and his parents. And tucked into one of the outer creases of the frame’s wood was something else - two photobooth pictures of the two of you. The pictures were from the first time he had snuck you out of the house to take you to the arcade at the roller rink. You had taken the other two pictures off the set of four, and always kept them in whatever journal you were currently working on.

Seeing the memento kept so close to him, so dear - it filled you with a fresh wave of confidence and desire. You turned around, determined to find him. Luckily, there weren’t that many places to check.

The kitchen and living space were empty. The bathroom was empty and the doors to the security room were shut - meaning Dick was likely in there, researching something, occupied. The only other place to check was the training room.

Gar was in there, putting himself through another rigorous training routine. Clearly he couldn’t sleep with the fight the two of you had still weighing on his mind. And he was quite a sight to behold.

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. He was pounding away at the heavy punching bag, clearly trying to take out some of the frustrations that you had caused to run ramped inside of him. He was aglow with sweat, the tips of his green hair hanging down in his eyes, sticking to his forehead. His tight abs were slick and shiny in the light in a way that made you want to lick your lips.

His attire easily revealed the delicious cut V of his hips and even a slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants, and they were beginning to slip slightly due to his activity. You could see a rather impressive bulge, signifying that he was definitely not wearing any underwear. It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag. You had to force yourself not to become distracted by the movement of that mighty snake inside his pants - especially now that you knew what it felt like against you when it was throbbing and hard.

He either hadn’t noticed your presence yet or didn’t care to interrupt his workout to acknowledge you.

“If you came to train, don’t let me bother you.”

Gar huffed quietly when he finally paused his movements for a moment. He sounded so entirely wounded, and the words caused pain to radiate through your chest. He leaned down to pick up his water bottle between the two clunky foam gloves without taking them off. He took a large gulp from it while he not-so-subtly eyed you through his peripheral vision, clearly waiting for your reaction.

“Apparently that’s all I am to you lately.”

He added on after he swallowed the water, deadly quiet. His words were barely louder than the metal creaking as the punching bag continued to swing from the residual momentum. But you heard him absolutely clear.

The sentiment weighed on your heart like a pound of bricks.

You knew there were no words to explain it to him. You knew he would still be angered at you for using your powers on him without permission, even if it was by mistake. You couldn’t explain how it had been a mistake, how it had only been with him. You still didn’t know exactly why or how it had happened.

After he gulped down a healthy dose of water, he tossed the bottle aside and rose to his full height. For the first time all day, he finally cast his attention over toward you. His face was set with one of the most sullen expressions you had ever seen. You hadn’t seen him this upset since he had attacked that man back at the asylum. Every bit a kicked puppy, as you looked at him, you tried to find the right words, but came up empty. You almost turned to walk away, almost burned dry of the courage you needed to face this.

But with Rachel’s words still ringing in your ears, you looked into his glassy eyes, and for the first time in a long time - you pushed into the quiet realm of his mind purposefully. You needed to dig to find something that would help you. Something that could remind you of how perfect you were with Gar.

You were surrounded once again by the thick, plush world of his own imagination.

Even if it wasn’t that different from the world you lived in.

The two of you were in the training room, with him wearing a blindfold as you practiced the unorthodox drill that was assigned to you. You got in a few good hits with the practice sword in your hands, and ultimately tackled him to the ground.

The two of you ended up in a position that wasn’t too different from the reality of the day before. Though it was playful and light, rather than hypersexual and startled.

You pinned him down with your thighs on either side of his waist, your hips sitting dangerously above his. Your body weight was balanced partially on your knees and partially on him. You held your wooden sword to his throat, poised in a threat you would never carry out against him.

He swallowed hard, his throat muscles jerking underneath the wood. You knew it was more because of the rising heat your compromising position was causing him and not because he was actually afraid of you. Or perhaps him being just a tiny bit afraid of you turned him on that little bit more.

You let out a laugh as you tossed the sword away, leaning in to take off his blindfold and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What was that for?” He asked, regarding the unique new affection you had never really shown him before.

‘Kiss it better.’ You signed, before leaving in and leaving a deeper, more heated kiss fully on his mouth.

You forced yourself out of the thick, hazy daydream then.

This was the answer. No words would be able to fix this - you needed to kiss it better.

‘Kiss it better.’

You repeated this to yourself in the real world, confirming it as the truth.

Gar read the signs you performed and - out of context - it draped him in hopeful confusion.

He continued to stare you down with that delicately confused look enveloping his features as you marched across the room toward him, your steps over the cushioned mats of the floor filled with pure determination.

He wondered if he had read your signing wrong, or if you were really planning to kiss him. Part of him thought you were going to hit him, or finally flip out on him for whatever perceived crime he had committed. And when you did it - he could hardly believe that it was truly, finally happening. That it wasn’t some dream.

You reached up and grabbed him by both sides of his sweat damped head. And after years of waiting - you pulled him into your lips.

Without hesitation, going on the pure fire in your belly, you kissed him.

You channeled every ounce of raw need that had built up since the first time he had sucked you into a daydream where he so ferociously kissed you. His shock was evident at first. His whole body went stiff under your touch, which almost caused you to pull away. But a small moan rang out from the back of his throat - something that made you instantly dizzy with need. It made your lips seek out his with even more force, making your grip on his head clamp down as if to not let him escape.

He began to kiss you back with just as much ferocity as he had in his dreams - echoing out another moan as he truly appreciated the taste of your lips.

You felt him move but you didn’t open your eyes to look. You heard the tearing of velcro as you gnashed your teeth across his top lip and then latched onto the bottom one. Behind your back, he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor with a careless, quiet thump. Then his arms were around you, snaking around your waist. His flat palms went up the back of your shirt like impossibly hot magnets and pulled your body to his. He closed the small gap you had left for fear of being rejected - he welcomed you into his world with the utmost sincerity.

Your shirt stuck to him because of the sweat he had worked up, and you wanted it off immediately. You wanted all your clothes off. You wanted to feel the naked rawness of the bulge you could feel swelling against your hip. But for now, you were too distracted by the other sensations he drowned you in to even consider pulling away to strip down.

You were too caught up in the wicked work his tongue was doing as it snaked past your lips. You were obsessed with the loving way his hands held you. You lavished in the heat of his body as it radiated out against you like a wildfire. One of his hands was sprawled out in the middle of your back underneath your shirt. The other cupping the back of your head like you were the most beautiful, delicate doll he had ever had the pleasure of holding in his life.

Eventually, both of you were forced to pull away from the kiss - succumbing to that formidable human breath.

“Is this real?”

Gar said quietly, seemingly almost more to himself as he pulled away from your lips.

You opened your eyes, running a hand down to gently cup his cheek. He felt your gaze on him and opened his eyes. For the first time in days, he stared into your eyes so intimately and the dream became real.

“Are you forreal right now?”

These words were a bit louder.

Not loud enough to break the sacred bubble of hot mingled breaths, spit, and sweat you had created. He wouldn’t dare do anything to shatter this if it was just another sleepy fantasy. But even if it was a fantasy, he still wanted to ask for your consent. That much you realized.

Hesitantly, you tore your hands away from his glistening, flushed skin to formulate your reply.

‘I want you.’ You told him simply.

Without another moment of hesitance, he used the strong hold of his arms around your torso to take you to the ground.

You wrapped your legs around him upon instinct. Your arms came up to clasp around the back of his neck as your ankles fumbled somewhere on his back. The action unintentionally drew your hot centers closer together.

Gar bringing you down elicited a surprised squeak from you, which staved off into light laughter as your back met the mats. The laughter was easily echoed by him, deep and hardy. The sound turned into a playful, pleasurable growl into your neck as he ran his teeth along the skin there, nipping, marking his territory. You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you - but fuck, the noise ran a shock up your spine. It made your pussy clench around nothing and sent a wave of wetness into your underwear.

This was going to be fun.

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Gar grunted into your neck, his voice already deepened by the cloud of his lust. His tongue licked a hot path down your skin into your cleavage. His hands ran down your sides to grip your hips through your shorts, his touch feeling blazen through the material.

“Wanted you.” He groaned, sounding so lust-drunk already. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

You had some idea.

But just hearing him say it, feeling the words vibrate against your skin made you moan for him. It made your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder blades. You were desperate for some kind of anchor on the plane of reality to assure yourself that you weren’t lost in the depth of another beautiful dream.

You were vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room. Maybe multiple cameras seeing what Dick’s personality was like. Hell, Batman was the one who had designed and built the place and Dick was only teaching you guys what he had been taught. He probably used the footage of you guys training to review your weaknesses so he could make you better - build better soldiers.

But all those thoughts melted out of your mind the moment that Gar lifted up your shirt. He continued the wet trail with his tongue down the middle of your stomach, stopping once and a while to make sloppy kisses against your skin. You knew exactly what his intentions were when his hands curled into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once.

Your legs fell limp as he started to pull them off.

A fresh wave of heat surged through you, making you absolutely drunk as he tossed your clothes behind him. He poised himself between your bent knees, kissing up your thigh with a tight hold on it, holding himself up with the other hand.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled out, low, heavy under his breath. You moaned out, only getting drunker with his words. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.”

You didn’t have a moment to sign to him, to give him some kind of encouragement or permission before he was diving in. He got low on his knees, wrapping both his hands possessively around your thighs. He leaned some of his weight on his elbows and from what you could see - canted his hips toward the mats, fruitlessly humping against the softness, seeking some kind of relief.

He used his hands to spread your legs - not that it was much of an effort. Your legs practically fell open at his touch. You whimpered hard in the back of your throat as you felt his breath fanning out over your wet pussy. A heavy moan swelled on your tongue when he licked a broad stripe across you from your hole to your throbbing clit.

“Shit, you taste so fucking good.”

He hoisted your legs over his shoulders so your feet rested comfortably on his back, laying so he was more flat on his stomach, clearly getting comfortable. He laid a few tender kisses on the inside of your thigh. Then he looked up at you with dark, ferocious eyes.

“Just, ah… smack me on the head if you want me to stop, okay?” Gar told you.

Clearly, he was saying this for your safety - putting in a failsafe in case you changed your mind or became overwhelmed. But it came off as a sharp, pleasant warning of what was to come.

Your pussy throbbed and you only ached for him to hurry up, biting your lip as you looked down at him. You nodded briskly, communicating that you understood his words. You had a feeling you most certainly wouldn’t want him to stop.

Gar’s fingers dug into the tenderness of your thighs as he ducked his head down, latching onto your swollen, needy flesh. He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’. Like with everything he did in life, he did with the utmost enthusiasm and passion. He lapped at you, put his beautiful pink lips around you and sucked. He kissed your pussy just as passionately and wholly as he had your mouth.

He shoved his tongue between your folds and dragged it in long, languid strokes. Clearly he was eager to lap up every last bit of your essence that he could - eager to devour you. He moaned into your pussy, moaned just as loudly as if he were the one being pleasured. It made the vibrations of his tongue on your clit even more deadly. Your hands were on his hair in a minute, both of them grabbing up as much of the gorgeous green as you could and holding tight. The action pulled a rumble from deep in his chest as he was satisfied by the pleasant pain of you tugging at his roots.

“You’re so fucking good.”

He moaned into you, and you echoed back a high pitched noise that you hardly recognized as your own.

“Everything about you is perfect. Every inch of you is perfect.”

His grip around your thighs became even more possessive, his fingers digging into you hard enough to leave marks. Your lust clouded brain couldn’t clock the pain. You could only enjoy the view of his gorgeous hands gripping your skin. He labored over your clit, determined to make you cum. He flicked his tongue hard and fast over your clit as his hot breath fanned over you in quick, lustful pants. The orgasm washed over you so suddenly, a rubber band snapped from his actions. The tension had been built up over weeks of him living inside your mind, torturing you through lustful dreams.

Your back arched, every muscle in your body pulled tight. Your thighs quivered and spasmed around his head as he continued to grip them hard. Your mouth became a mess of foreign noises that sounded daft and dumb to you but were absolute music to Gar’s ears.

He chased you hard the whole way through it, shoving his tongue deep inside your throbbing cunt so he wouldn’t miss a single drop of your juices as they flowed out of you. You thought perhaps he might come up for air when your orgasm subsided. The aftershocks were still shaking your thighs, one of your hands falling to lull by your side, the other petting fondly through Gar’s now even messier hair. But it seemed you were wrong. He was just getting started.

He growled with a feral hunger, the noise making your hips jolt, unintentionally canting toward his face as a whimper fluttered from your lips. He lapped at you in a drunken, lazy way for a few moments before he went back to eating your pussy with a renewed kind of starvation.

Nipping at your swollen pussy lips in a way that made your entire body jolt, forcing his tongue inside you and fucking you with it while his nose bumped at your thrumming clit. Your second orgasm built up so quickly on top of the first. Your fingers curled in his hair as an unspoken signal to it. The feeling of your nails digging into his scalp only driving him to makeout with your cunt with an even deeper desire.

He soaked up your practically pornographic moans with reverence. The wear and tear on your extremely damaged vocal cords began to hurt your throat, but the noises were absolutely unstoppable as they poured from your lips. His talented tongue was forcefully driving the moans and whimpers from you. He loved the feeling of your fingers ripping at his hair, leaving a pleasant sting across his scalp. He didn’t let up at all as your second orgasm plowed through you.

He wasn’t satisfied even as your voice was echoing the wrecked, harsh moans of a third.

He had you panting, your lungs struggling for air. Your muscles twitching with the excess of adrenaline and electricity. You whimpered pathetically as he tongued over your intensely sensitive clit again. Deciding it was time to give in, you reached over and tapped him gently on the top of the head.

He looked up at you with those beautiful, wide brown eyes. This time not a lick of innocence or confusion anywhere to be seen - his irises completely overtaken with a deep, primal lust.

You crooked your finger at him, motioning for him to come back towards your face. He kissed the inside of your thigh a few more times. He unintentionally smeared your sticky wetness, which had gathered on his lips in a heady, thick coating, across your skin.

“I love your pussy so fucking much.” He murmured into your skin.

Hearing him spout such filthy words without shame sent another wave of heat rolling through your belly. You had no idea how you were still so needy after cumming so many times, but Gar had easily done that to you.

You reached over and gently tugged on his hair again, bringing his attention back to you. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t know how to ask for it. Surely, there had to be a sign in ASL for intercourse - but you just didn’t know what it was. You had never felt the need to look it up before now. You decided to improv, knowing that Gar would get the meaning either way. He always understood when it came to you.

You raised your hands, making a partially closed fist with one hand and sticking your finger into it. You knew that it was probably a rather juvenile motion. To make your point perfectly clear, you mouthed the words ‘fuck me’ in an exaggerated way, hoping it would be easy enough for him to pick up on.

“You want me to fuck you?”

He gently shucked your legs off his shoulders, sitting up on his knees. He wiped your essence off his mouth with the palm of his hand, a delighted, surprised expression falling over his features.

You nodded swiftly, enthusiasm spreading across your face, biting your lip as you could barely contain a giddy smile.

“I mean, I don’t have a condom or anything… should I go find one?”

He moved slightly as if to get up and leave you, but you were quick to trap him, hooking your knees around his thighs and squeezing tight. This touch was a good enough signal to bring his attention back to you.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ You signed to him, firm and final.

He clearly wanted to question you, but there was something heavy dancing in your eyes, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by pushing it.

(You were infertile. Just another thing your illness had taken from you. If it meant this moment with Gar would be a bit more worry-free, then you’d take it. If it meant he would break up with you down the road because he wanted kids that you couldn’t have… then you’d just enjoy the time with him that you were given.)

“Okay.” He breathed quietly.

Your attention shifted dramatically when his hand moved to adjust his cock in his pants, which was straining harshly through the fabric. It was a long, thick outline like a shadow beaming out from the black fabric, with a damp spot at the tip. Fuck.

Eating you out had turned him on so much that he was leaking precum into his pants, quite a lot of it. You latched onto your bottom lip at the sight of it. You couldn’t help but to outright stare now that you were allowed to look - lavishing your eyes over the thick, magnetic outline of his beautiful cock. His hand gripped it once more, adjusting himself, trying to make his throbbing cock more comfortable where it strained against the fabric. It made the sight even hotter somehow, and your eyes jumped up to his to see the almost shy look on his face. Even after what he’d done, he was shy about you staring at his bulge.

‘Show me.’

You egged him on, trying to be encouraging. You wanted to play up the obvious desire that you knew was prominent on your face by pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes for him. He raised his hand to the edge of his pants, but his muscles strained, hesitant still.

As a show of good faith, you sat up slightly, peeling off your tank top, which was now stuck to you with sweat. Your skin appreciated the cool air of the room, and your ego preened at the way Gar’s eyes devoured the newly revealed skin.

He let out a harsh breath before he stood up on the spot and took his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles and kicking them away.

“I thought you might laugh at me.” He said quietly, insecurity racking his voice. “Because… ya know… the carpet matches the drapes.”

Laughing was the last thing you were thinking about doing.

As you laid there, propped up by your elbows, staring at him, your mind could only focus on how entirely fantastic he looked. His body was so perfect, his muscles built, building up more each day with the training. His whole body covered in perfect, smooth skin, surrounding a gorgeous, filthy prize that you had only dreamed about being this amazing in real life.

His cock sprang out from a nest of green pubic hair - which yes, ‘the carpet does match the drapes’. But you found that to be nothing to laugh at. There was absolutely nothing laughable about the gorgeous, nine inch monster that stood proudly in front of you - smooth skin covering hardened, gorgeous flesh just like the rest of him. With a drooling, bright pink tip just ready for your lips to be wrapped around it.

‘Why would I ever laugh at such a beautiful prize?’ You told him, assuring him that you held nothing but admiration and lust for his body.

A light dusting of pink came over his cheeks, absolute flattery from your words. He dropped down to his knees once again. His cock bobbed so deliciously as he moved, and you knew that would be so whipped by the ability to have it. When Gar realized the power he could hold over you with sex - you would be done for.

“Jason thought it was pretty funny.” He shrugged, his voice gruff with the memory of it.

‘Jason is a clown.’ You assured him.

The conversation was cast aside when he gripped your ankles, playfully tugging you across the mats toward him - something that caused more giggles to erupt from your throat.

Then, he was hovering over you on his hands and knees once again. With one hand beside your head, the other came over to grasp your chin with two fingers. It was so light and careful compared to his previous touches. He peered down into your eyes, making your stomach seize up with the sheer amount of love and affection he stared you down with.

If you didn’t feel the same way for him, you might have backed down from the towering might of his feelings. You might have been tempted to run from something so divinely grand and beautiful. But no - you wanted to be his. You wanted to make him yours.

‘Take me.’ You mouthed.

Your hands were numb and useless at your sides. Your body was stilled by the cosmic depths of his affection, hoping your silent lips alone would be enough.

Gar leaned down and swept your mouth into a kiss. His thumb on your chin rubbed sweet circles on your skin as his lips smoothed into yours. Your tongue reached out to eagerly dive into the cavern of his mouth. Soon his touch was gone from your face as your hands woke up to find him, to reach out for the perfection of his body.

You eagerly sought out to touch his arms, his back, his ass, anything you could reach. He used his hand to hoist your knee gently over his thigh, opening you up to him. Then he poised his cock perfectly at your hot, leaking entrance.

“You sure about this?” He breathed across your cheek, pulling away from the kiss to ensure your consent one last time.

You nodded with the most frantic posture you could muster, impatient breaths spilling from your nostrils and pouring across his clammy skin.

Satisfied with this, he rolled his hips forward. Finally, after weeks - no, years - of waiting in quiet agitation for him, you became complete.

Even with his massive size, his cock slid easily inside you.

Your pussy was readied by the many orgasms he gave you, your muscles relaxed and naturally slicked up for him. He fit perfectly like he belonged there, your hot inner walls pulling him in. Your hot cunt clung to his cock in a way that made him groan deeply into your neck. The feeling made his buttocks tense as he pulled together his last ounces of self control to not lose it - to not pound into you like a careless sex doll. You were perfect, and you deserved to be treated perfectly.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock.”

He groaned, leaning down on his elbows. He trapped you completely in his warmth, pressing his body firmly into yours from chest to chest to where he was smothered deep inside you.

“You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.”

You dug your nails into the muscles of his back - hearing your name on his lips with such a gravelly desire making your pussy squeeze around him. After a few restrained moments, he finally pulled his hips back and began to move. It started off as a slow, deliberate grind, a slow drag of his hips into yours, but it quickly became unhinged. Not that you minded one bit. You wanted to tempt that animal inside him - you wanted to see his rougher side.

The sloppy sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as he hammered his hips into yours. The sounds almost completely drowning out the quiet wave of your pathetic whimpers and his possessive growls. He tried to trap the sounds in the skin of your neck, while gnawing mindlessly at your skin, sure to leave some kind of mark on you.

He was impossibly heavy and hot inside you, hitting all the best spots. His cock drove more electricity into your nerve endings and absolutely milked you for everything you could give. His knees pinned open your thighs where they jolted and jumped, your body so overstimulated from your previous orgasms that they wanted to clamp shut on his hips to keep him from moving. Your unconscious wanted to pin him down and hold him there - wanted to hold him inside you so that you could feel so impossibly full forever.

And then, just as you felt another orgasm coming to form like a screeching fire in your belly, he dared to raise his head from your neck, dared to look into your eyes.

Before you knew it, you were tumbling once again through the thick curtain of reality and into his mind. You were pulled against your will into another one of his fantasies.

In the fantasy, you were on your back, still, completely naked. You were slicked with a sheen of sweat with his thick, pulsing cock deep inside you. But this was slightly different. The material under your back was most certainly a mattress - plush, more giving than the stiffness of the padded floor of the training room. It had an almost too soft layer of silk sheets covering it that your skin stuck to unpleasantly with the sweat.

Your hands were poised on Gar’s chest, your nails digging into the skin there, leaving light marks. One of the things that stood out most to you about this picture was not the fact that Gar was having a fantasy about fucking you, but the ring on your finger. Seeing as this was his mind, he was the one who had put it there. Quite clearly a wedding ring or an engagement ring. It was beautifully ornate, poised on the correct finger for marriage. It held a bright green stone in the middle - green like a certain someone special to you.

“Fuck, I love you so much.”

Dream Gar moaned as he pounded into you, his hips taking on a sloppy rhythm as his orgasm drew near.

“My beautiful wife. Mine. Finally fucking mine. You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

‘I’m yours.’

You found yourself mouthing the words without even realizing it, whipped out of the fantasy world so harshly once again. A very small part of your mind wondered if it had been a small slice of the future that you had seen or if it was simply a conjuring from Gar’s imagination.

You didn’t have the time to think or care, because your body went into overdrive. The Real Gar’s forehead was now resting on your tits. His hands created a tight grip on your hips as he pounded into you harder, harsher, deep grunts spewing from his lips each time his cock settled back inside you.

“Please cum for me, Y/N.” His words came out as a whining beg, something so wonderfully small from the man splitting you open on his cock.

He kissed between your breasts, his thumb coming to rub harsh circles on your clit, sending jolts right through you.

“Cum on my cock. Please.”

With the vision still hot on your mind and his words searing through you, the orgasm tore you up like a rabid animal. It was like nothing else you had ever felt in your life - like your entire body was on fire, being entirely consumed by Gar, by his touch, by his love for you. Finally being owned by him, finally having the one thing you wanted, needed most. Finally having him, full and whole.

You screamed so loudly it hurt your throat, something you knew you’d be feeling for days afterward. Your whole body shook around him while your eyes screwed shut, your head tilting backwards as the pleasure was exorcized from you.

You felt a hot dampness under your fingertips that you recognized as blood. In the back of your mind, you realized that you had gripped him hard enough for your nails to cut him - but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, it only spurred him on more, if the deep, ferocious grunts pouring from his lips were any indication. He was absolutely wild as he chased his own orgasm, breath fanning out in hot grunts against your breasts as he bucked wildly into your spent, tired hips, making your muscles twitch with bitter overstimulation.

“Fuck! Y/N!” He cried out as he came, finally spilling his thick, hot cum inside you.

You let out a small moan at the feeling. It became even hotter when you felt his cum pooling around the base of his cock, where you were connected, and leaking down between your cheeks. He lingered inside you for a few moments, petting his hands up and down your sides while your hands laid numbly on his back. He pecked small, delicate kisses across your clavicle that were almost an irony to the whole interaction. It made you smile.

You were quickly falling tired from the massive aerobic exercise and post-orgasm haze, disappointed by the fact that you had to get up and make your way back to bed. You hoped Gar would let you sleep in his. It came as a bitter shock when he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and cold as he moved away from you so suddenly. When you blinked, he was standing, bending over with his back to you as he picked up his pants and righted the legs so he could put them back on.

What he did next came as even worse of a shock to you.

“I - uh… I understand if you don’t want this to affect our friendship.” He said, just loud enough for you to hear him. His tone was flat, completely void of emotion.

“I totally get being horny and just… needing someone. We’ve been locked up here for weeks, and like. Like you said, Jason’s a clown.” He let out a laugh, but it was hollow and tired. He clearly didn’t even think his own words were funny.

The words were so strange in those moments they took far too long to process through your sex-hazy brain.

Was he really insinuating that you might go to Jason for sex? Was he trying to… let you down easy? Was he saying that he only wanted to be friends? Friends with benefits?

Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you?

Your head was spinning with questions as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your whole body stiff as those beautiful, orgasmic chemicals faded away. It left you tired, shocked, and… feeling used. Your eyes scanned over Gar’s back as he tied up the drawstring of his pants. You focused on the dark red, deep, partially bleeding marks you had left. You had marked him, whether he liked it or not. You had some claim to him. You should.

“I’m gonna stay for a while and finish my workout.” He told you quietly. “Do you need help getting back to bed?”

When he came over and offered you a hand, you brushed it away. For the first time ever, you felt cold and unaccepting of his touch. You felt angry with him. How dare he invite you into his mind, show you how much he cared about you - how dare he fuck you with so much love and passion and then try to brush it all off as if it were nothing?

‘I’m fine.’ You told him, hoping your coldness could come across in tired, limp handed signing.

You forced yourself up on quivering knees and then onto your feet. You gathered your clothes where they had been carelessly tossed and shoved them back onto your used, dirty body. You would have preferred a shower first, but you preferred the precaution of drapery in case you did run into anyone on your way to the bathroom.

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room, going to the bathroom to ruminate on the whole experience by boiling yourself in hot, steaming water.

…

You thought about it for a long time while you were in the shower.

Just stood there, under the hot spray and let your mind concentrate on the things Gar had said. He had fucked the living daylights out of you, ate your pussy like it was his fucking job. He was apparently having daydreams about doing so while calling you his fucking wife, and then once it was all said and done - he backed down from it. He told you that he ‘understood’ if you only wanted to be friends.

He was afraid.

It was like everything else in his life. He could transform into a fucking tiger, but he was afraid to bite people. He didn’t want to use the fantastic power that had been given to him. For years, he hid away with Doctor Caulder, a man who emotionally abused him and manipulated him. He had been too afraid to stand up for himself, too afraid to leave the house and chase the things he really wanted.

And with you. He was clearly terrified you were going to reject him. He wanted a life with you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted you and your heart, he wanted your everything. But he was too afraid to voice it. He was too afraid he’d look like an idiot if you didn’t feel the same way.

That’s probably why he had unconsciously reached out to you, unconsciously broadcasted his fantasies to you whenever you were near. And you’d thought it was your stupid powers acting up.

Just like with kissing him to initiate that amazing sex - you were going to have to shake off your fear of rejection so that the two of you could be together already.

…

You woke up the next morning with a pounding migraine.

Even with the preventative medications Doctor Caulder had prescribed to you to help with your seizures and migraines, the tumor that still lived inside your brain did get to torture you occasionally. When you lifted your head from your pillow and saw the gray, gloomy sky looming over San Francisco, the raindrops racing down your window, it didn’t take you long to figure out the cause of your pain. You groaned, falling face first back into your pillow, not wanting to get up.

The ever present pain from coming from your head was topped off by soreness that had spread through your whole body - undeniable evidence that what happened between you and Gar last night wasn’t just another dream. Dreams don’t have consequences. Especially considering that your pussy was aching hard, still sore from having his impressive length splitting you open. On top of it all, your throat was stinging with an almost flu-like ache from having screamed so much through your surgery damaged vocal chords.

You really hoped Dick would let you have one day off from training. You probably could have gotten through it with just your body being sore. But the migraine was already ravaging you, already turning your stomach sour with systematic nausea.

You heard a knock on your door and sighed quietly.

You had just barely hoisted yourself into a sitting position by the time the person entered. Squinting through your tired eyes, you were able to makeout a flash of green and immediately knew that it was Gar.

“Hey, you don’t look so good. You feelin’ alright?” He knew the look that always settled upon your face when you were overtaken with such intense pain. He hardly needed to ask. “Where’s the bottle?”

You motioned toward the drawer that held the item he spoke of - your hot water bottle, which you used to help ease the bitter pain of a migraine. He opened and closed a few drawers before he found it. Your eyes gently closed against the harsh light pouring in from the hallway, too sensitive to the light to actually look at him.

“It’s okay, lay down.” He told you, his voice a comforting lull past the aching thrum in your forehead. He patted your thigh gently through your blanket, and you eased back onto the bed, throwing a forearm over your eyes to block the light. “I got it.”

He went to the kitchen and filled the rubber bladder with boiling water, returning quickly with it and a glass of water. You took the now very hot water bottle. You gave him a small moan of gratitude as you placed it down on your pillow and pressed your forehead into it.

In a practiced routine that only spoke to how much he loved you, he closed the bedroom door, blocking out the harsh light of the hallway. And then he walked around the bed to close the curtains, blocking out any potential light from the outside. He placed the glass of water down on your nightstand with a harsh clink that only radiated through your skull so painfully because of the migraine. Then you heard him open the nightstand drawer, digging around for your medication.

You trusted that he knew which ones you needed right now. You trusted that he didn’t need your advice on how to take care of you. It was something he knew well after so long.

You felt his fingers brushing your open palm, then felt the round tablets of your medication left there as he pulled away.

“Sit up and take these.” He said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hurt you with a single decibel.

He used a gentle grip on your forearm to hoist you into a sitting position, and you swallowed the medication dutifully with the water he’d brought.

“I’ll tell Dick you need to sit out of training today.” He explained quietly. “You need anything else?”

‘One thing.’ You signed to him, your hands weak and tired.

Though your pain was disruptive, and you were glad Gar was not acting any different after what had happened last night, you couldn’t wait any longer before doing this.

Before he could question what that thing was, you leaned in. Your lips easily found his in the darkness and you planted a smooth, gentle kiss on his mouth.

‘Don’t wanna just be friends.’ You signed, opening your tired, painful eyes to see his reaction to your words. ‘I love you. I have loved you for a long time now.’

A broad smile came across his face, his expression of pure joy practically glowing in the darkness.

“Yeah. Awesome. That sounds amazing. I love you too.” His voice was slightly louder now, his joy overriding his caution for your hypersensitive, pained ears.

He felt absolutely giddy - this was what he had been waiting for, dreaming of for so long. He wanted to climb in bed with you and lay by your side for the rest of the day. But he knew that he needed to attend to other things, and more importantly - you needed your rest.

“Get some rest now, okay?”

He tucked you into bed, made sure the covers were up over your body, full and warm with the hot water bottle under your head before he left the room once again.

It wasn’t long before you heard voices coming from down the hall.

“Where’s Y/N? We’re doing balance drills in ten minutes.” Dick’s gruff voice echoed down the hall, very obviously directed at Gar, who he’d sent to wake you up.

“She needs the day off. She’s got a wicked migraine and she needs rest when it gets like this,” Gar told him simply, hoping Dick would respect him at his word.

“We don’t get days off, Gar.” Dick pressed. “All of us have to train through pain, or injury. Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you? Do you think they’re just gonna come back another day? Do you think they’re gonna stop shooting at you if you have to stop and bandage your boo boo?”

His words cut through you, causing a sallow pain to rise up in your chest. It was something you’d been hearing since your childhood - since your treatments and hospital stays had caused you to miss too many days off and your teachers quickly stopped taking pity on you. You had always been told to just work through your pain, that the world won’t stop for you. You considered getting up and just going to training. You wanted to tough it out just to show Dick that you could, that you could puke into a garbage can and keep going, that you could boot and rally.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall, and in your pain heightened sensitivity, you heard the metal of the doorknob shift as someone put their hand around it. The sound of Dick coming to get you out of bed anyway.

He didn’t get the chance, though.

“Leave it, Grayson.” Gar’s voice growled - a harsh, sharp sound that you had rarely ever heard from him before. “You don’t understand what she’s going through, and I won’t have you pushing her until she pukes on the floor just to satisfy your ego. She already trains harder than you ask and you know she could probably kick your ass,”

You heard a harsh sigh, a deep breath through nostrils - Dick’s surrender. His footsteps disappeared down the hall, and Gar’s followed shortly after.

Your heart bloomed with affection, awed by the blanket of protection he had put around you.

You really were his. You always have been.

...

When Gar was getting dressed after his shower later that day - he came across a small box in his underwear drawer. It was the ring that Rita had given him before he left Caulder House, a very expensive looking vintage piece from her days on set. Gar tried to insist that he couldn’t take something so nice, so sentimental from her. But she had closed it tight into his palm with the promise that it would be yours someday - that he would use the polished emerald ring to propose to you.

Of course, she saw that big, beautiful, dangerous thing brewing between the two of you from a mile away. Gar considered marching down the hall and giving it to you right then there. But he tucked the box back into his drawer. In honor of Rita’s vision - he would make it old Hollywood, romantic.

He had plenty of time.

THE END.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction #gar logan #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #garfield logan

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mitskijamie · 10 months

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This wont leave my mind. Im all for rjk but in my soul im a royjamie truther and a part of my heart feelings like jamie only started getting up in arms at the bar after roy brought keeley up because he was enjoying the time with roy and felt betrayed by him! Like he thought roy was showing him care and putting effort into their relationship but when jamie really found out why he purposefully egged roy on? Idk if that makes any sense lol! But just on my mind

I completely agree. Part of the reason I'm not anti-Royjamie fistfight is that I don't think it was actually about Keeley at all. Like it was but it wasn't. If they were actually going to have a fistfight over who gets to be with Keeley it would've happened a long time ago. Keeley hardly came up all season. It was about the threat that their respective relationships with Keeley presented to the bond between the two of them (which @atorionsbelt wrote a very interesting meta post about I believe) and their fear of their devotion to each other/the vulnerable position it put them in. Over the course of a year they had become the most important people in each other's lives (taps on Jamie at Uncle's Day scene) and one of them being with Keeley would change that. Which terrified both of them because they were so obviously obsessed with each other and couldn't fathom an upset to the balance they'd found. Jamie was upset that Roy wanted Keeley more than he wanted him and Roy was trying to sabotage Jamie's budding relationship with Keeley because he didn't want to lose what he had with Jamie to that relationship

I also think they were terrified of how intimate they'd become with each other and felt the subconscious need to sabotage it. Because their almost-kiss was the previous episode lmao