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#or anyone who looks at him and notices he isn’t okay
sixosix · 1 day
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m m m m maybe blanket plus yuuta plus hurt/comfort maybe. maybe 🤞
in which rika likes you because yuuta definitely, definitely does.
warnings wc 800, mention of injuries and descriptions of blood !! careful when u read <3 also i took hurt comfort literally BWHAHSAH hope i did your expectations justice nyx ily
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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“Yuuta. Yuuuuta.”
Rika’s voice echoed in the quiet hall. Yuuta winced, wishing Rika would keep it down; it was 2 AM, and no one would appreciate being woken up around this hour. But he knew that if he said so, Rika would be sad, and he didn’t want to hurt Rika and cause a worse scene.
“I’m fine, Rika-chan, really,” Yuuta murmured.
Rika growled unhappily. Yuuta, too, knew that he was lying. Although his wounds weren't life-threatening, he still needed to get them treated before they got infected. But Yuuta had just come back to this room—he was so, so tired. Sleeping in wouldn’t hurt anyone but him, right?
“Yuuta!” Rika snapped. It reverberated and shook the walls.
“Shh, Rika-chan,” Yuuta whispered hastily. “Please, our friends are sleeping.”
“Yuuta?” 
Both Yuuta and Rika fell silent, alarmed. That voice certainly wasn’t Rika’s, and it most definitely came from the door.
“Yuuta?” you asked again, followed by a knock. “Are you okay in there?”
“I—I’m—I’m fine!” Yuuta yelped.
“Didn’t you just come back from a mission? Why are you here instead at Ieiri-sensei’s?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier that separated you both, but it was still enough of your voice to have Yuuta’s ears reddening.
“I was! I’m resting now!” Yuuta lied straight through his teeth, embarrassed beyond belief. In truth, he didn’t want to disturb her.
“Yuuta’s a liar!” Rika chose not to stay silent at the worst time. “Liar!”
The door swung open. Yuuta didn’t have enough time to hide a steadily growing red shirt or his pretty much the same face. The air thickened as you drew closer, and Yuuta struggled to tell if it was because of Rika or his reaction to you.
“Okkotsu Yuuta,” you said, deceptively calm. Yuuta felt the hair on the back of his arms rise in alarm. “Yuuta, don’t tell me that the stain on your shirt isn’t from ketchup.”
It was his blood, so Yuuta obediently stayed silent.
You sighed and spun around to leave the room. Yuuta’s chest ached as he watched you leave. His lip trembled, and he looked over to Rika, who seemed to be giving him that same stare of disappointment.
Yuuta shrunk in on himself. “I think I made Y/N mad…”
“Stupid Yuuta,” Rika trilled. “Yuuta is an idiot!”
“I know, I know,” Yuuta cried. “I get it now.”
As he was preparing to wallow, Footsteps emerged once again. You burst into the room with a first aid kit and a stern glare that made the protests die on Yuuta’s tongue. Strangely, Rika was silent.
“Let me see,” you demanded.
Yuuta’s face flamed with embarrassment, but he obliged and tugged on his shirt. Most of the injuries were cuts on his torso that would surely hurt once he showered, but again, it wasn’t anything worth all of this. He braced himself for the stinging pain once the cotton grazed his open wound, but instead, he found himself too flustered by your proximity to even notice you were already working on his wounds.
The room was dead silent, save for Yuuta’s labored breathing. Rika had disappeared; Yuuta chalked it up to him not being in danger anymore. 
“Yuuta, if this happens again, come to my room, okay?” you said softly. 
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. I’m asking you to.”
Yuuta deflated. “I can’t just disturb you.”
“I want you to disturb me.”
What a dangerous thing to say. Yuuta’s gaze went sharper. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” Your touch was too gentle. You faced Yuuta’s gaze head-on, fearless. “And you would do the same for me. Aren’t you the one being unfair?”
Yuuta sighed. He could never win when it came to you, anyway.
“Thought so,” you mused, carefully pulling his shirt down again. “You should learn how to ask, Yuuta.”
“I’m trying,” he muttered.
You tugged on the blanket folded neatly by his side and draped it over his shoulders. The heat of your touch remained in the blanket's warmth. When you stepped back to grin proudly at your work on a flustered and helplessly endeared Yuuta, you then frowned.
“Hey, where’d Rika go? I thought she wanted to share the blanket.”
“I think she wanted you to share it with me,” Yuuta said before he could think about it.
“Oh.” You blinked. “Is that so? Well, I guess that’s not a bad idea.”
Liar, he could hear Rika’s voice. Well, he never denied it.
Yuuta laid down carefully and lifted an arm from under the blanket. You crawled inside and settled beside him, launching into a ramble about how you were worried sick when Yuuta didn’t return early. He still struggled to ask for what he wanted, so he would settle for this.
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gutterfuuck · 3 days
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“ROI—“
more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!
cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.
mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.
his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.
“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.
mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.
“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.
“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.
“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-
“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.
you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”
thank god. thank god.
“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?
mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…
he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…
fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.
“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-
“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?
“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-
mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.
“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.
to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.
you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.
you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.
mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.
mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.
one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,
“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,
“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.
you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;
warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.
“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.
you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.
it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.
“i love you, mark grayson.”
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quillyfied · 3 days
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Alright, reacting messy and all over the place to this trailer, LET’S GO:
Okay, strong opening: hooded figures (one of whom is checking his watch, which is hilarious, but the skin of the hand also looks red, so probably demons?), red background (good argument for Pride), Blitzo getting IMP out of dodge and then IMMEDIATELY crashing the van, good for you bud I’m so proud (but not as proud as I am of Moxxie chewing Blitzo out without a single “sir” thrown in there). Couldn’t begin to guess when this takes place, but since the van is crunched up later during a bit that is, I am 99% sure, Ghostfuckers, then this is probably Apology Tour. Hooded figures might not have anything to do at all with the gang running for it.
FIZZ THERE IS SUCH A THING AS A SEX TOY THAT IS TOO BIG. I’m not sure if you’ve found it but it’s close :P Lots of fun little clips, though Moxxie dodging a blue fire explosion in Lust doesn’t look good.
DHORKS AND CHERUB WORKING TOGETHER I KNEW IT I HECKING KNEW IT I’M SO MAD I NEVER MADE A POST ABOUT IT BECAUSE I’VE BEEN SO CERTAIN OF IT FOR MONTHS NOW. AAAARGH. AND I CAN’T PROVE IT!! But look at Collin, he looks so unsure compared to the other two. Poor guy. Okay, Blitzo is leaving a card of some sort in front of Agent One, and he’s using the crystal, so this is very much giving me Mastermind vibes (or even Sinsmas, if it's after the conflict and this is just Blitzo messing with them now). Humans being able to open a portal to Hell…that ain’t good!
Something coming at the gang from…looks like their office? And it’s round and spiky…could be whatever it is that’s making them go on the run, whenever that is (Apology Tour is my current guess).
CLETUS IS IRON MAN NOW.
(Listen I’ve been having visions about Blitzo being on trial for stirring up so much crap in the human world that it’s started to have repercussions in Hell so the fact that there seems to be a meeting or trial of some sort later having to do with Stolas is making me think maybe I’m a prophet. I’ll maybe explain more later in a different post but dropping it here bc it’s part of my thought process right now.)
Blitzo why did you give your fake ID such a rack and then neglect it as part of your human disguise XD I’m disappointed in you, babe. I’m also wondering what in the unholy hell a demon wants with a haunted house on Earth (and if that’s Leviathan like many people have been speculating, what is A DEADLY SIN doing in a HAUNTED HOUSE on EARTH???). (Also that is the single most awkward angle of Blitzo of all time, why on earth is he wearing white leggings because if he was naked we would be seeing some pixelation here…unless imps can retract their junk, which I’m open to.)
Ooh, quick shot of Loona operating a machine gun in Lust! Nice! (Hey quick Q where’s Blitzo in all of this??)
Helloooooo, Vassago! Excited to meet you! Really looks like there’s some sort of trial or meeting in Pride and Stolas might be either the topic of discussion or literally on trial, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all to have Andrealphus trying to get Stolas demoted or something similar without Stolas even being there. So Vassago actually wanting him present looks good on him for now. But this is a trailer, things can be misleading, but anyone who looks that fed up when dealing with Andrealphus can’t be all that bad :P Thinking this is also during Mastermind, or possibly Sinsmas.
Okay, first really significant shot I’m noticing of short-sleeve Blitzo makes me think it might be Full Moon, because he’s sort of off to the side while the focus is on Stolas talking about how this transactional thing between them isn’t right anymore. Though. Hmm. Stolas is in full regalia for this. And there’s a shot later of short-sleeve Blitzo trying to go for Stolas’ hand and winding up outside (portal? Didn’t seem like it) and Stolas is in his robe when that happens. Musical number with metaphorical sequences?
Sun/moon seems to be during Apology Tour, if that’s when Stolas and Verosika are on a stage together.
And short-sleeve Blitzo with a Dankee Candle, good on you man XD (that’s been one of the more compelling arguments for short-sleeve Blitzo being during Sinsmas, not Full Moon, because gift-giving, but the bits of deep conversation that keep happening with Blitzo in short sleeves sound very much like a conversation that needs to happen during Full Moon and I can’t imagine they’ll wait an entire season for it).
Now the heart-rending bit that’s definitely during a musical number with kiddo Stolitz and then grownup Stolitz, currently voiced over that heart-stabbing “you think you can toy with our feelings because we’re smaller and less important” monologe from Blitzo, it’s FINE I’M FINE (Though…looking really closely…I am not sure if that’s when that monologue occurs? The mouth movements ever so slightly don’t match up. But animation technically has some leeway when it comes to that kind of thing.)
OKAY CALLING IT NOW, TEEN BLITZO AND TILLA SCENE IS DURING GHOSTFUCKERS. I don’t even think it’s a flashback, I just think Blitzo’s brain is being fucked with and he’s seeing his mom and visually reverting back to a teenager. The carpet behind Blitzo and the lighting are mostly what I’m basing this on. Also how fucked up would it be if Blitzo sees a ghost of his mom only for it to reflect his internal monologue about how terrible he is back at him, amirite :P
Okay sassy short-robe Stolas is Apology Tour, calling it now; he and Blitzo have “we’re about to hatefuck” energy off the charts and Stolas in particular is being so bitchy and petty-looking. And angry. And kinda sad. Am I ready for their breakup era to be full of bickering? Yes. Yes I am. I’m also skeptical that the smile that’s on Blitzo’s face during Stolas’ sarcastic little bow is going to be the expression on his face when the episode comes out, but I’m ready to be surprised.
HELLOOOOOO NURSE! YES TODAY SATAN! (Deeply curious about who’s the disgrace, have a current bet going on whether it’s Ozzie or possibly even Stolas, but I could be pleasantly surprised and it’s Mammon :P) Pretty sure the trial/meeting is happening during Sinsmas, actually, it would be too funny to call an episode that when introducing a new Sin. Also short moment to appreciate that Mammon brings fidgets to meetings, of course he does. My guy. My dude. Also his reaction is what makes me think Satan is talking to Ozzie, because Mammon would have no reason to look that gleeful at anyone but Ozzie.
WHERE DID BLITZO GET THAT SWORD THO. (AND ALSO HOW BADLY IS IT ACTUALLY GONNA FUCK UP ANDREALPHUS’ WHOLE DAY BECAUSE THAT’S DEFINITELY ANDREALPHUS ABOUT TO COME DOWN ON THEM LIKE A SACK OF FROZEN HAMMERS) Blitzo trying to protect Stolas, kill me ;A; Stolas looks like he’s in regalia, though sans cloak or hat…why is he at Andrealphus’ place, and why is it looking like he can’t fight back? Stripped of his powers, maybe? Anyway this is Sinsmas, no doubt about it, it’s got season finale energy.
If the haunted house guy is actually Leviathan, I have SO MANY QUESTIONS.
Why is IMP in Lust getting attacked by CHERUB/DHORKS? I have more questions.
“Everyone’s shitty, we live in Hell!” Valid, but also, cop-out.
I’m very curious about what is making Blitzo make that face, because it’s not the cake; it looks like Verosika is cutting it but then she’s also sitting next to him on the railing where he’s sitting, so…? Anyway, it’s Apology Tour, and can I just say how EXCITED I am to get to know more about what happened with Blitzo and Verosika and maybe see some closure for them both on that front? Because YIKES their dynamic means there is a good, juicy story behind it. But also, Blitzo why are you wearing a bloodstained sheet?? (Presumably to sneak around but why did he choose THAT OBJECT, is really my question.)
Millie fighting possibly possessed Blitzo and what appears to be a flashback to Millie and Blitzo’s first fight (could be a time skip but it makes more sense for it to be a flashback given Millie’s hair and Blitzo’s fashion) (side note but dammit why are they both so hot) let me know something new about myself, and it’s how very, very much I want to see Millie and Blitzo kicking the crap out of each other XD Blitzo and Moxxie got to spill their guts in a drug-induced hallucination; I want Blitzo and Millie to fight each other bloody. They’re bonding and sharing deep intimate feelings, guys :P
And the Millie voiceover where she’s telling Blitzo how much he takes from others? Probably during whatever weird hallucination (PLEASE be a hallucination) involves Millie with tied wrists, a branch in her hair, and a ton of glass sticking out of her eye. Ghostfuckers, perhaps? Would make the most sense but how much stuff could that episode POSSIBLY have, oh my word.
(Short-sleeved Blitzo dropping a ton of paperwork on Moxxie also makes me think that’s his date outfit for Full Moon; can’t do this mountain of paperwork, sorry Mox, he has a daaaaate)
Panning to Verosika at the part when she gets to “and leave them worse than when you found them” holy HELL
“Do you feel any remorse for the things you do” yeah somehow I think that’s aimed at Blitzo, y’all. Just from what we’ve seen of Stolas in that particular robe and his general expressions and actions that whole time, and the fact that he seems to be talking to Blitzo (if not an imagining of Blitzo) the whole time. But it panning to Andrealphus about to go super Saiyan does make me laugh super hard actually (bc NO THAT BITCH DOES NOT).
ENTIRE MOMENT OF BREATHLESS SILENCE FOR OCTAVIA CALLING STOLAS OUT. It’s been so complexly beautiful to watch this show not shy away from how much self-hatred and low self-worth hurts loved ones too, and especially to watch that play out with how Octavia and Stolas’ relationship is changing and hurting from Stolas himself changing and hurting, but to have it called out so bluntly really makes me wonder what in the high holy heck is about to happen and when this conversation takes place. I have a horror that it’s during Mastermind or whenever the trial/meeting is, because perhaps Andrealphus and Stella manage to turn Via on Stolas and tell her that whatever is about to happen to Stolas is deserved or for the best, but. Uh. Hmm. Hmmmm. (Because all of Stolas’ power and possessions passing to Via doesn’t mean that Via is old enough or prepared for them and giving them to her would put all that power somewhere that is potentially much easier to manipulate/control, but I have a lot of thoughts about how Stella feels about Via and how that colors how Andrealphus treads around the subject of Via when talking to Stella about her and it’s not for this trailer reaction.)
(Apology Tour involving not just apologizing to Verosika, but to Stolas, too? I can only hope, though it’ll be far from simple; I don’t think Stolitz is going to sort out their issues and get together fully this season, but I’m hoping for some steps.)
(Also PLEASE can we get some Stella development that maybe sheds some dimension on her spoiled brat personality)
VIA SONG VIA SONG VIA SONG VIA SONG (maybe about her own magic and her life and how it all kinda fell apart so fast even as she’s growing up so fast poor girl)
Pretty sure the mirrors shattering thing is happening during the Stolas Apology Tour song, but we’ll see. Gosh there’s gonna be a lot of songs this half of the season.
Millie getting a short is such a good thing for her as a character, but I also love that she’s getting an episode with Blitzo, because out of everyone at IMP, I’ve been waiting for her to be the one that Blitzo has a major breakdown in front of; seems like Ghostfuckers is going to give me my wish! I don’t think she’s gonna coddle him or be overly sweet about it, but I do think she has a way of getting through to him and handling him in a way he wouldn’t let Moxxie do and couldn’t handle Loona doing either. Tough love but sweet? Idk man. Unless this is the moment he starts getting possessed. Who knows.
I am SO CURIOUS about who is going through the movie of Blitzo’s past traumas where he ruins the lives of everyone he loves; I’ve heard speculation that it’s haunted house dude, which would match up with Blitzo having a nervous breakdown in Ghostfuckers, but I dunno.
Oh that soft Blitzo look from under the bloodstained sheet. Oh that happy smiling Stolas that I’m now more convinced is taking place in the same general episode, if not sequentially after each other like that. Blitzo goes from looking so miserable to maybe looking more hopeful. Or perhaps yearning. I’m not sure how to interpret the expression, it’s just really heart-wrenching okay. And Stolas is wearing the same outfit as he is when he’s onstage with Verosika so what even IS this episode.
The very businesslike way Stolas says “Thank you, Blitzo” before he softens up makes me think THAT is what’s gonna finish up the Full Moon argument, but it does make me wonder what on earth Blitzo says that gets Stolas acting the way he does in potentially the very next episode.
Overall it’s a well-produced trailer that I’m sure we’re all going to be dissecting frame by frame for a long time! Whee!
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dinitride-art · 1 year
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“Now I just want you to watch.”
El saw what Henry did to everyone in the lab. She didn’t die, but she had to watch it happen.
Max saw Billy die in front of her. She wasn’t the one in danger, but El was. And she watched her abusive stepbrother die in front of her.
Dustin saw Eddie die. He didn’t go back towards the bats. The bats didn’t hurt him. But he watched Eddie die in his arms.
Hopper didn’t die because of his exposure to the chemicals he was mixing. He watched his daughter die in a hospital bed.
Lucas wasn’t being targeted by Vecna. He wasn’t the one floating in the air, his bones weren’t snapping. But Max’s were. And he watched it happen.
Nancy wasn’t the one who died in the Upside Down, alone in Steve Harrington’s pool. That was her best friend, and Nancy had to watch it all go down. Had to see everyone unfold.
Mike didn’t get possessed. Or kidnapped. Or burst into particles. Mike didn’t die. Or almost die. He watched Will screaming like he was being burned alive. He watched his best friend nearly die and he watched as every adult around him was unable to help him. He watched Will bike away from his house before he disappeared. He heard his mom talking to Joyce the next day. He heard Will on the radio. He saw Will’s body in the water. He heard Bob die. He saw El die. He saw Will dead. He watched a man get shot trying to protect him, Will and Jonathan. He watched him die while putting pressure on the wound.
Mike was shot at.
He was told that he was wrong for trusting El. That Will wasn’t alive.
He had to run for his life because his friend’s body was taken by a being from another dimension that sent creatures to kill him and everyone around him.
He was knocked out by Max’s possessed brother.
He was shot at again in the desert, trying to rescue El who was taken by the government.
He’s been bullied his entire life.
And he did almost die.
Mike jumped off a cliff.
Dustin and El had to watch.
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poppyseed799 · 1 year
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I feel like life series fanon jimmy is kind of mischaracterized and there’s an easy way to make sure you’re doing it right: he has a lot of unearned confidence
#the tags is where I’m going to ACTUALLY say stuff LOL!!!#but like I love life series Jimmy mkay. he’s got that curse of dying first and all. which is what I mean by fanon cuz curses aren’t real#but a lot of fans make it like Jimmy accepts the curse? or even acknowledges that it’s real. which bugs me a bit cuz No He Does Not#(side note tho. I’m not mad about it. I know ppl wanna explore the concept of someone cursed to die first and that’s what they’re doing)#but like Jimmy would just be so in denial about it okay. even if you managed to convince him he would be like ‘..BUT SURELY THIS TIME’#and this relates to ranchers too. I love ranchers ok. mostly cuz my sister does tbh LMAOO she loves them. but ranchers fan content isn’t#what I’m looking for cuz it’s so often stuff like.. Jimmy being like ‘I’m sorry I’m cursed’ and Tango being like ‘it’s ok love u anyway’#but it’s really more like ‘CURSED?? NO! WE WILL WIN!’ which I think is MORE fun for the aftermath of their death. meeting in the afterlife.#I NEED to see ranchers content where they keep denying that the curse is real then Jimmy dies and they’re ghosts or whatever and Jimmy’s#like ‘oh no. we didn’t break the curse. tango probably hates me now. he only liked me cuz we thought the curse wasn’t real.’ and tango to be#like upset at first as anyone would be when they die. but then he like notices the way Jimmy is acting and he’s like ‘no.. ranchers 4 life’#???? what am I saying. hire me for writing fanfic I totally know what I’m doing.#anyways what I’m saying is Jimmy is the canary but he’s the canary that’s like ‘SURELY I can sing for the miners the whole way THIS time’#he is NOT the canary who says ‘WELL time to eventually stop singing in this cave’#HOWEVER I do think that although he has loads of unearned confidence and is in a constant state of denial. he does also have that crumble#sometimes. so it’s not totally ooc imo for him to act like that. but it would be rare moments and also mostly post death#ANOTHER SIDE NOTE I WANNA SAY. I HATE the way I’m saying this as if it’s fact. it’s my personal analysis and just because I think it’s right#doesn’t mean I want to present it as undeniable fact. I could be misinterpreting. if you want to interpret life!Jimmy’s character different#then go on ahead. I don’t hate fanon Jimmy I just wish I saw more like how I see him. that is all.#ok I lied I also wanna add that I’m bad at explaining things ESPECIALLY personalities so it’s possible that I didn’t convey what I wanted to#say properly too. sorry. OKAY NOW THAT IS ALL.
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yaksha-lover · 6 months
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Someone New
Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.
Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)
GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)
i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts
Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.
The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’
His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.
You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.
You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.
You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.
You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.
Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.
Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.
As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.
-
You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.
He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.
“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”
“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”
Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.
You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.
“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”
“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.
He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.
-
When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.
“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”
“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”
You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.
You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-
You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.
ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar
You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.
Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.
You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.
When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.
You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.
-
“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.
It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.
A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.
‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”
He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.
Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”
You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.
With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.
-
When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.
You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.
You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…
iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto
Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.
Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.
Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.
That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.
You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.
“Hello, Prefect,” he says.
“Azul.”
Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.
“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”
“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”
“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”
Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-
“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”
Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.
You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.
“No need to leave on my account,” he says.
“It’s not.”
He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.
Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.
As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.
-
The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.
You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.
At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.
You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.
He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.
“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”
“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-
“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”
With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.
It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.
You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.
You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…
As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.
“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”
Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.
-
A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.
You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.
He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.
Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.
“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”
With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?
iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper
While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.
Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.
However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.
Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.
You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.
“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”
Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.
“What are you thinking about?”
He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”
You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know…you could still find love?”
“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”
“I-I understand.”
When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.
“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”
With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.
It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.
The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.
Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.
v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit
Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.
He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.
Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.
Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.
Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.
“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.
You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.
You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.
He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.
When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.
It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.
-
The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.
You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.
Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.
He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”
You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.
“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.
“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”
He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”
You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.
“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”
He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.
-
Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.
“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”
Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.
“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”
Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”
When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.
“I’m just teasing you.”
You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.
Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.
vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud
The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.
And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.
You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.
The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.
It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.
Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.
Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.
Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.
“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”
“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.
“How do you know about that?
“Earn their love??”
“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”
“Huh. Okay.”
You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.
“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.
“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”
When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.
-
The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.
Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.
The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.
You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.
You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.
A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.
“Hey MC.”
“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.
Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.
“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.
“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”
Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”
“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”
The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.
“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.
“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.
“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”
“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”
“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”
“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”
“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.
You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.
-
The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.
“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.
“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.
“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.
“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.
“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”
vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia
You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.
That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.
With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.
When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.
It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.
“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”
You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.
“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”
-
Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.
You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.
“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.
“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.
“Human men are fickle.”
You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”
He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”
You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.
-
You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.
On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.
Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.
Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.
Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.
Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.
You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.
He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.
A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.
-
You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.
The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.
Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.
A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.
“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”
The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.
“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.
“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.
“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.
“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.
“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.
“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”
“And you, my king.”
The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.
He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”
“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”
He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.
The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.
This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.
“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”
He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”
You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”
He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”
There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.
-
You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.
When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.
It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?
The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?
Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, my child of man?”
Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.
viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion
Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.
Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?
3K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique
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Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1,6k
Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.
Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol
Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍
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Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.
This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.
But now he’s dead.
Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.
“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.
Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.
“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”
Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.
“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.
He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?
“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.
So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.
But you can’t.
“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.
With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.
“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”
Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-
“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”
This voice…
That was Yuji Itadori.
Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.
“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.
“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”
You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.
“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.
When did that happened…Was it…you?
“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.
“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“
“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”
You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.
“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.
There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.
“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.
The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?
“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.
- a few weeks later -
You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.
“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.
Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.
Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?
“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.
This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.
“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.
“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.
With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.
“Is that a scar?”
“It might be…”
“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”
When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?
“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.
You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?
“Why would I know where this came from?”
“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.
You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…
“This was when Yuji woke up-“
“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.
“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”
“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”
Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.
“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”
Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.
“Satoru”, you breathe out.
There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.
“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.
“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“
“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”
You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.
“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”
“I’ll always tell the story like this.”
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Dividers by @saradika 🤍
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…
Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-
He’s insulted.
You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!
It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!
Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.
His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.
You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.
Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.
When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.
On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.
Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.
Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.
And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’
And you’re like: ‘well what?’
And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’
Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.
You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’
Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’
You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.
‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘
‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’
You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’
‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.
Damian acts indifferent about it.
He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!
He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)
So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.
Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.
Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.
‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;
‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’
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yasu-1234 · 2 months
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friends with benefits with gojo satoru.
pairing: gojo satoru x afab reader words: 5,100 contains: oral sex, squirting, pronebone, choking, and gojo being unserious. mood: playful, sexy, sincere. author’s note: thank you for the kind reaction to lazy sunday morning 🙇‍♀️
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You squint at him as you take in his request, wondering if he’s just messing with you as usual. You’re sitting next to him in your apartment unit; the balls of your feet digging on the edge of your couch as you slurp on a cup of boba tea.
“Dude. That’s not funny,” you manage to reply after a long, confused silence. “Like, I know it’s fun when we mess with each other but isn’t this a bit out of line?”
He scoffs dramatically. “I’m serious! Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Honestly? I can’t always tell,” you reply. “Kinda feels like everything is a joke to you sometimes.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m asking you nicely here. Do you wanna do it? With me?”
You open your mouth to respond, but then you realize you don't even know what to say.
Satoru scoots closer to you and leans forward, looking at you from above his sunglasses, his voice dropping into his teacher tone as he explains.
“Look, okay?” he starts. “We’ve been teasing and flirting with each other since the day we met. And I know it’s all jokes but still, there’s obviously some chemistry here. Not to mention that you're fucking hot. And I know you think that I’m hot too. Plus, all your Tinder matches are assholes. And I don’t even have the time to date or meet new people. So you and I are like, our most logical, convenient choice here.”
You huff and smile in disbelief. “Did you just assume that I think you’re hot? Someone’s a little cocky.”
“Come on. You have eyes. Get with the program.”
Your eyes cast a flickering gaze over his body, taking in the chiseled contours of his muscles underneath his– Oh. Ohhh. So that’s why he came wearing a compression shirt. And sweatpants. On a Friday evening. With your favorite cup of boba tea. He shoots you an impish grin as you shake your head at him and set his bribe down the coffee table.
“Fine,” you say. “I won’t deny that we’re kinda, sorta, maybe, compatible. But here’s the thing. I like our friendship the way it is. Why complicate it with some dumb, meaningless sex?”
“No, no, no. But it’s not gonna be dumb and meaningless,” he replies. “Cause it’s you.”
His words snare you speechless, your cheeks flushing red.
“Wait. Dude, what do you mean by that?” You stammer, laughing awkwardly.
“I’m saying I care about you and you mean something to me. If there’s anyone I’d wanna fuck on the regular, it’s you.”
“Satoru!” You lean away. “You really don’t have a filter do you?”
“I’m just being candid here! I trust you.”
He scoots even closer to you, holding you by the forearms. “And you trust me too, right? I promise I don’t wanna hurt you and I’m not playing tricks. I’m just asking.”
“And am I the first person you asked?”
“You’re the only person I’m gonna ask. If you say no, my dick is gonna concave. It’s over,” he replies.
You laugh at his words, and he laughs from the pleasure of making you laugh. Then his smile melts into an unwavering gaze, his eyes soft and sincere, pleading like a touch-starved cat.
“But seriously,” he continues, his fingertips graze your neck. “I meant what I said. You mean something to me. I don’t wanna hookup with some random stranger or a girlfriend who might break up with me. It has to be you, okay? I just know that whatever it is that we have it’s definitely gonna last. Whether it’s friendship or… something else. Something more. I don’t know.”
You can’t help but lean into his touch, “Your logic is so weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“No, you.”
You huff and smile. And then your gaze falls down to his lips. Soft, glossy, and inviting. The air is suddenly warm and still. And the silence between you grows heavy and pensive. With the shared understanding that you are sitting with him on the edge of a crumbling threshold. You look back into his eyes and notice that he’s looking at your lips too. His breathing becomes shallow and heavy with longing.
“What if we just kiss and see where it goes?” you ask.
He swallows hard, his lips parting, “Yeah…”
Satoru takes off his sunglasses and you lean towards each other. Slowly. Seeking reassurance, offering permission, with every inch of space you close between yourselves. At some point, his eyelids fall shut. His silver lashes flutter as he moves closer and closer. You can smell his sweet breath, feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and the firmness of his thumb against your cheek.
You close your eyes and press your lips against his, softly, then with a swift gradation of hunger as Satoru grabs the back of your neck, pulling you against him, deepening the kiss.
“Mmnh… ” You hear a soft hum of pleasure from deep in his chest.
His lips feel soft like rose petals, puckering and relaxing as he relishes the feeling of your lips against his. He’s kissing you. You’re kissing him back. And you start laughing against his lips as reality cuts through that fog. He pulls back, surprised by your reaction.
“What?” he asks, laughing now too. “Don’t tell me I suck.”
“No, no, you’re fine,” you reply. “It’s just—I can’t believe I’m kissing my friend. On the mouth.”
He smirks, “You wanna kiss something else?”
You smack his shoulder, blushing and laughing, “Shut up!”
“Hey, I was quiet,” he yells, gesturing to himself now. “You’re the one who started laughing!”
“Okay, fine! I’m sorry! I just couldn’t take it seriously.”
“We never really took anything seriously. That’s what makes it so fun,” He says, placing his hands on your waist. “I like that we can laugh about everything. Even things like this.”
You smile, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
You lean towards each other and kiss once again. This time, you part your lips, and his tongue swipes softly against yours, gentle yet demanding, coating your mouth with a sweet, buttery taste. His hands are warm as it rests on your collarbones. And you feel his fingers crawl upwards to the back of your neck, grabbing you by the scalp to hold your head still.
The rest of the world starts to sway and melt into open water. And you cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. You break the kiss to gasp for some air, hoping to feel solid ground again. While Satoru presses his forehead against yours. His eyes shut and his lips trembling, hoping you would let him taste you again.
“We’re gonna keep going aren’t we…” you whisper, breathlessly.
“Hell yeah,” he whispers back.
His hands slide under your thighs and he pulls you to his lap. You lean down to kiss him once again. Satoru moans and grabs your hips to press you down to his crotch, craving some pressure against his aching, hardening cock.
“I just… need your weight… right here…” he mutters in between kisses. His hips press upwards to meet you, and you gasp as you feel his thick girth squeeze and rub between your legs. Shuddering as you wonder how he’ll cram all that cock inside of you.
“You feel that? That’s your fault,” he hisses, sighing in relief.
“Aww, are you that pent up?” You tease as you start rocking across his length, following the slow rhythm of his hips.
“You know it… It’s been a while.”
A strangled sound leaves his throat and his head hangs back from the couch as you grind on him. His eyes shut and his lips parted in relief. He grabs you firmly by the backside, keeping you pressed against him.
A moment later, Satoru tilts his head back up to look at you with a hazy gaze and notices your stiff nipples underneath your oversized shirt. He leans forward and nips at one of your buds with his teeth.
You yelp at the sudden prick of pain, “What the fuck!”
You recoil and cover your chest with your hands.
“Hehe, I've always wanted to do that,” he says. He takes your wrists and pries them away from your chest, holding them tightly behind your back with a single, large fist. “You never wear a bra when I’m coming over. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or were you hoping that I would?”
“It’s my apartment. I would’ve worn a bra if I knew you were gawking,” you retort.
He leans to press his lips softly on your breast, soothing the sting in your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. You sigh and bite your lip.
“You’re not answering my question,” he says, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So maybe I’ll just think however I want. And I think you wanted me to see it.”
Satoru starts kissing the base of your neck as his hand disappears under your shirt; you shiver as you feel his long fingers draw a smooth trail up your spine that turns into a light scratch as his hand pivots across your rib and towards your chest. You feel his cock jump underneath his sweats the moment he feels your breast.
“Damn, you’re soft,” he sighs. He bunches the hem of your shirt and raises it up, exposing your breasts to him. “Here, hold this."
He stuffs your mouth with your shirt to hold it up.
Before you can protest, Satoru leans down to drag a soft tongue over your nipple. Then he opens his mouth to suckle as much of your breast as possible. You bite down on your shirt, holding a moan as he flicks you over and over with his tongue, and then finishing with smacking kisses before he moves his lips across your chest to tease the other. Your torso twists and recoils from the raw, yet delicate sensation. But he pulls on your wrists to keep your back arched in his direction. The ache and heat between your legs become more and more unbearable, so you continue rubbing your crotch against the iron-hard bulge in his lap. Giving yourself some much-needed relief.
“Mmmh, that’s right, keep grinding on me,” he murmurs. “Make that pussy feel good.”
You shoot him a repulsed look. Though you're unable to snark at him through the makeshift gag he shoved in your mouth. Satoru laughs anyway, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. You’re such a sleaze.
“Oh come on. I’m how you like me,” he teases. “And if you keep looking at me like that I might actually bust.”
You roll your eyes at him and smile. And that only made Satoru greedier for any and all reactions he can coax out of your body. He grins and sets you back down the couch. Then he kneels on the floor between your legs and drags your shorts and panties down to the floor. You spread your legs for him, almost involuntarily. And he bites his lip as you show him the tender, sopping mess between your legs. His hands on your thighs feel searing hot as he raises your limbs up the couch, planting your feet on the edge of your seat.
“Play with your clit,” he tells you. “Show me how you tease it.”
Surprisingly, you obey. Your hand starts drawing languid circles around and around your bud. He leans in closer to observe you. Noting the rhythm, the pressure, how tightly or how widely you stroke yourself. You realize that he’s teaching himself how to make you feel good. And that only made you rub faster and harder in blatant, bare-faced need.
“Yes, that’s right. Keep going,” he encourages you. “Now put a finger in. Fuck yourself a little.”
You slip your finger and start gliding in and out. He nods and hums in pleasure as he watches you with unabashed lust and fascination. Like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You milk and ride your delicate fingers, stoking and tending to your own pleasure like a flame.
“Okay stop,” he says. He pulls your hands away. “I got the gist of it.”
“The gist, huh?” You taunt. “You think that’s enough?”
“You tell me.”
He parts your lips with his thumbs and glides a wide tongue along your slit. Your back bows and a moan escapes you as he licks you just like that.
Satoru doesn’t even take the time to gloat. His lips and tongue start to slurp and smack relentlessly. Making your toes curl and your stomach writhe. Grabbing a handful of his hair and nearly ripping it off his scalp as he somehow licks faster and sucks harder. With the rhythm and the consistency of a goddamn machine. You bite hard on the fleshy base of your thumb as he pleasures your pussy raw. Focusing your eyes on whatever random object you find in your living room to make yourself last longer. Cause you know you’ll never hear the end of it if you come all over his mouth within the first two minutes.
But then he slides in his fingers. Those fucking fingers. Smooth and long and dexterous as it moves in and out, over and over, curling to press that intense spot just underneath your bladder. You start to feel a deep sense of pressure, an urgency, somewhere inside your walls. That builds and rumbles and sears… and then explodes.
You grunt and arch as you feel a sudden release, something more than a climax. Your body grows taut and snared by euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hearing muffled as your ears start to ring. But Satoru’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Whoa there! I didn’t know I was in the splash zone!”
You snap your head back down and your jaw drops at the sight of him.
“Holy shit. Did I just– Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” you stammer, mortified. You grab your shirt to try to wipe him.
“Haha, hey. Relax. You didn’t actually hit me,” he says with a soft, reassuring laugh. He turns his body to an angle to show your watery spent hovering centimeters before his face. “See? All safe and dry. Unlike you.”
“Oh, shut it,” you sigh, panting heavily. “That… seriously never happened before.”
“Really? Never?” he asks with a smug grin, he starts wiping himself with your shirt before tossing it down the wooden floor. "Wow… I'm flattered."
Satoru kisses your thighs and leans down between your legs once again. You jolt and push his head away.
“Wait, I don’t think I-“
“Just a few kisses,” he says in a soft voice. “Just lemme get a few more kisses in there, yeah? I’ll be gentle with it.”
You sigh and slowly let go of his head. Satoru leans in to plant a few soft kisses on your outer lips, on your folds, your entrance–your entire body twitching with every touch of his lips. Then he presses his lips tenderly on your clit. And you feel it pulse and throb as his lips linger and your legs begin to tremble. He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth on your inner thigh.
“If that wasn't one of the biggest ego boosts of my life,” he says fondly.
“Yeah, cause the one thing you need the most is another ego boost,” you retort as you wait for your bones and muscles to feel solid again. “I’ll get you for this.”
He grins, “That a promise or a threat?”
“Maybe both.”
“Alright, bet.”
Satoru stands to push his sweatpants down his thighs. Then he reaches inside his boxer-briefs to draw out…
the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen in your life.
“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you watch Satoru shrug off his bottoms and straddle you. Instinctively, you wrap your hand around his cock and start stroking.
He looks at you with a smirk, “Gorgeous, right?”
His cock is long and proportionally thick from crown to root, shaped with a graceful upwards curve. His skin is glossy and flushed pink—wrapped tightly and smoothly around his organ without an inch of loose flesh. It’s almost uncanny how sculpted and elegant it looks. And the idea of his cock sinking past your throat makes your mouth water and your pussy pound.
“Go on, taste it,” he coaxes you. He doesn’t need to tell you twice.
You lean in and wrap your lips around his pretty, pink head—your tongue swirling and catching each leak of precum that drops onto your taste buds. Satoru moans and the neediness in his voice emboldens you to take more and more of him. You start swaying your head in deeper and deeper strokes; relishing the smooth underside of his cock. The thick scent of lavender on his skin and hair. The sweet and acidic taste of his precum. Satoru tries to breathe in deeply, only for his breath to shudder each time you sink your head.
“You’re pretty eager,” he teases, breathlessly. He runs his fingers through your scalp to hold your hair back, wanting to see more of your face as you work on him. “Do you want me to cum that badly? You want me to shoot my little babies down that throat?”
He yelps when you slap his inner thigh, your brow furrowed as you look at him with a flustered and reprimanding gaze. Though Satoru finds it pretty hard to take you seriously with his dick in your mouth. So he chuckles fondly instead.
“Or you can do that. I like it when you try to hurt me too,” he says.
You grab him by the back of his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, and you sink him deeper into your mouth. Satoru hisses and starts moving his hips, meeting your head downstroke. His cock starts to edge towards the back of your tongue, testing your gag reflex with every thrust. But you relax your throat and match your breathing with the swing of his hips, and soon you manage to bury him down your throat to the root. Your nose pressed firmly against the fluffy, white hairs of his crotch. Screw it. You let him hit the back of your throat over and over and over.
"Fuck," he moans. "At least try to make me last."
His hips pick up the pace. And you feel his muscles contract as his cock pushes towards release. You moan and pleasure him with the vibrations in your throat, wanting desperately to fill your taste buds with his cum.
But then he stops moving. His hands holding you stock-still against his crotch. You feel his cock twitch and throb in your throat, threatening to burst. And you can hear the strangled noises and whimpers coming from Satoru’s lips. You look up to him and see the look on his face; his brow is upturned, his eyes closed, and his jaw tight as he bites his lower lip. Looking like an angel in ecstasy. His eyes flutter open to peer down on you.
“Just a little more. Bear with me here,” he sighs. Then the twitching stops and he pulls his cock out. You gasp, forgetting you were holding your breath.
You shoot him an accusatory look.
“Did you just edge yourself?” You ask.
“What if I did?” He asks back.
“That’s not fair! I was winning!”
You lean forward towards his crotch but he holds you by the shoulders, laughing.
“It’s not a competition! I didn’t come all this way just to cum in your hand. Or your mouth,” he says with a smile. He reaches behind him to slide two fingers between your slit, gently caressing your inner lips. “I wanna cum here."
He starts gliding those long delicate fingers, up and down. Parting as he stretches you open. Your eyes glaze over as you feel that familiar heat building between your legs. Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps you would rather feel him burst inside you instead. You start moving your hips to rut against his fingers, your hands rolling your breasts as you gaze at him with cock-starved eyes. Satoru twitches as he relishes that look in your face. Wanting nothing else but to thrust and wring that neediness away.
“Bed?” He asks you.
“Bed,” you answer.
You yelp and giggle as he hoists you up and jogs to your bedroom. He doesn’t want to waste a single second. He flops you down on top of your sheets and takes his shirt off. His naked torso tightens as he notices you admiring his body. Taking in his broad shoulders, his square chest, his tiny waist and those grid-like abs. Eight packs… How many abs does a person need?
Satoru aligns his groin between your legs and lays his cock across your stomach like a ruler; measuring how deep he's about to go inside your body. You shiver as his tip caresses your belly button. Your pussy throbbing in equal parts fear and delight.
"You think you can take all this?" He asks you with a devious look in his eyes, with his lips curled into a smirk.
You bite your lips and mirror his gaze, almost provoking him to try and split you apart.
"Come and find out."
He rubs the tip of his cock against your clit and pushes it inside you. You moan as his thick head stretches you with just enough hint of pain to compliment the pleasure. He leans down and sticks his tongue out, prompting you to suck it and caress it with your own. The sensation of your soft tongues circling each other sends you into a fucking frenzy. You feel your inner walls contract and his groan spills straight into your mouth.
“Shit, you’re actually sucking me in,” he pants. He grabs you by the hair to tilt your head down, making you watch the way his cock sink between your legs—one girthy inch after the other. “Look at it go. Watch how well you're taking me right now.”
You both groan in relief as his cock disappears inside your soft cunt, his tip pressed flush against your cervix. You both take a moment to stare at your interlocked groins in fascination.
And then he looks at you to flash a nasty grin.
“Hey bestie…” Satoru purrs, his voice dripping with mischief and lust. “Guess who’s inside you?”
“Oh, come on!” you groan, smiling deliriously as you turn your head away from him. You try to cover your face, but he pins your wrists to the bed.
“No, say it. Who’s inside you? Who’s fucking you right now?” He insists, giggling. He tilts his body to face you again, preventing you from escaping his gaze. He withdraws his hips and drives his cock upwards with a rough thrust, knocking you backwards. You tilt your head back with a moan as he hits you in the womb.
“Say it,” he urges.
“Who else am I supposed to say? Jesus?” you reply, laughing as he does. “You are. You're inside me. Happy?"
“What am I doing?” He asks again. He starts rolling his hips, fucking you slowly. His crotch rubs against your clit in languid strokes.
“You’re fucking me,” you gasp. Your breath catches as you turn dizzy and nearly cross-eyed from ecstasy.
“That's right,” he replies, now caressing your face. “I got you, okay? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
“You better,” you reply, wrapping your arms around him.
Satoru withdraws and flips you to lie flat on your stomach. Your legs pressed closely together as he parts your cheeks and aims his cock towards your entrance.
"Try not to gush all over your sheets, okay?" He teases. Then he nibbles your ear and plants kisses on your shoulders.
You sigh, “I just knew you were gonna bring that up.”
Satoru slides inside of you and you squirm and groan against the pillow instantaneously. The friction between your legs feels heightened as your muscles squeeze around him. He starts gyrating his hips, the tip of his cock hitting all the right spots with each downstroke. You grab the sheets and groan as you start kicking your feet from the raw, unadulterated pleasure.
He braces his hands on the small of your back. Then his hips move faster. Harder. Deeper. The slap of his skin nearly echoes inside your bedroom as he fucks the sanity out of your brain with each thrust. Your senses are overwhelmed by all things Satoru–the powdery scent of his skin, his pretty little moans in your ear, his smooth skin against your back, his comforting weight, and his thick cock pumping inside of you. With an angle so perfect and a rhythm so right that you wonder if his body was made for you. You squirm and writhe underneath him as the pleasure engulfs you like a flame. That he stokes and tends until it’s wild and uncontrollable.
You know it’s just sex. You know you’re just friends. You both just wanted to try something fun. Let off some steam. And yet you never felt used for a single moment. And despite all his teasing and provocations you’ve never felt insulted or uncomfortable. Satoru makes you laugh. He also makes you moan. And if he keeps fucking you like this he might actually make you cry.
Satoru collapses on top of you and starts groaning and whimpering against your neck, his abs flexing into stone as he stokes an impending climax.
"Fuck, fuck, I'm so close. Take me there, baby, take me all the way there, please," he rambles. “I want it, I want it, I want it. God, I wanna cum so bad."
He grabs you by the neck to tilt your head up and shoves his soft, sweet tongue inside your mouth. Kissing you with open lips. Saliva dripping down your chin. Then his hand starts to squeeze you, choking you gently and tenderly, and your body dissolves into a pleasurable haze. Your inner walls clench and your stomach tightens. You know you're getting close, too.
"Yes. That’s right. Good girl," he whispers into your lips. "Stay with me, baby. Stay close to me, I can't do this without you."
The pleasure builds, and builds, and builds, and then it shatters you. You start thrashing under his body as your climax rips through and seizes you. White light dances before your eyes and your hearing weakens from the strength of your pulse. Your pussy clenching so hard around his cock that he explodes inside you as well—his cum hot and searing like ignited oil. Satoru’s hips begin to stutter, helpless against the strength of his own spent as it shoots out and fills you straight to the womb until it leaks past your plugged entrance. He cums inside you in choking whimpers and grunts… that fade into a long, satisfied sigh.
“Hah… fuck… holy shit,” he pants. “What was that?”
“I never came so hard in my life,” you whisper, mindlessly.
“Me too… I thought I was gonna shoot my balls out.”
Satoru remains flat on your back, kissing and nibbling your nape as you unwind from the strength of your orgasms. Your bodies stay suctioned together, as still as the air that surrounds you. You seek comfort and grounding from his crushing weight and the heady sweetness of his scent as your mind slips into that blissful, post-orgasmic headspace. He tugs at his dick to pull out, but you’re still clamped and wound up tightly. That’s fine. He didn’t want this to end either. Your walls are just too soft, too warm, and too plush for him to just leave. He smiles and rolls your bodies to the side to spoon you; his arms wrapped around you like a blanket.
Satoru starts rubbing his face against your neck like a sweet, satisfied cat.
“So what do you think? You wanna do this again sometime?” He asks.
You could only hum in approval, your mind and your body feeling weightless and malleable.
“How long have you been meaning to sleep with me?” You ask. “Just curious.”
“… A while,” he answers after a pensive silence. “Does that bother you?”
"I guess not… But we’re still friends, right?” You ask. Wondering if you should even bring this up while he’s tucked inside you to the hilt.
"Friends with benefits, I guess," he shrugs. "But really, we can be anything you want. You already know how I feel so… ball's on your court."
He raises his head to look at you. "Why? You wanna get married?"
You laugh, "Maybe not that!"
“Why not? Lots of people marry their best friends.”
You turn your head and smirk at him, “I let you hit once and now you’re thinking about marriage. I must’ve been such a good lay.”
He smiles fondly and nuzzles your cheek, “You are, though. Seriously, who else can bring me to my knees like that? You’re the best I ever had.”
You roll your eyes and smile, “Now you’re just glazing.”
“It’s true,” He leans back down to kiss a trail from your ear to your shoulder. “I don’t care how you take me as long as we’re together. I like being with you. And now I know I like fucking you too. You’re not getting rid of me now. And like I said before. Whatever it is that we have, it'll definitely last.”
You stay silent, wondering where this all leads. Will the friendship really last? Will it fizzle out? Would you prefer that over a certain, bitter end? Is your friendship now contingent on sex? Will he be worth the heartache if you ever get attached?
Satoru laughs softly at your brooding.
“You don’t have to decide right now, you know?” He says. “Let’s just feel this moment together. Just feel me here with you. We don’t have to worry about anything else.”
He starts rocking his hips gently again, thrusting inside you with a pace so relaxing that you feel your consciousness sinking. He whispers softly against your ear; telling you secrets and sweet reassurances. Promises and high praises.
Satoru has leapt from that crumbling threshold. That boundary. That made you seek forgiveness whenever your fingers touched his hand. Or worry if you’ve taken your jokes too far. And he has opened his arms to you, beckoning you to take that leap and sink into that limbo between friendship and beyond. Promising you that he will catch you when you fall.
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i wanted to capture that 'you cryin'?' energy of his and stretch it to a whole fanfic. though i hope it wasnt too much of a tone whiplash (•᷄- •᷅ ;) i just think annoying people is his love language. and he probs gets a kick from your reactions. pls let me know what you think! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و
and thank you for giving this fanfic a chance!
originally posted on ao3 title is based on blurred lines by lauren layne. art by blooneey on pixiv
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months
Text
𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃
Choso
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Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader
Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️
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There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter. 
Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.
They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.
The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him. 
“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.
The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.
Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him. 
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You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.
“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again. 
“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along. 
You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.
From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not. 
“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”
“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso. 
The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit. 
“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”
“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”
“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”
“I think so.” You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”
He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”
“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car. 
“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.
“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.
“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.
“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.
Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down. 
“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image. 
The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that. 
“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it. 
“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.
Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing. 
He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.” 
You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head. 
His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.
“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.
Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too. 
“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.
You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock. 
You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot. 
Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.
“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”
“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one. 
His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits. 
His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder. 
“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.
“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh. 
“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment. 
He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”
“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.
“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.
You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.
You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”
It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.
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ragingbookdragon · 3 months
Text
Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.
“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”
She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”
“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”
“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.
“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”
“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”
Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”
She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”
“He feels bad.”
“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”
Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”
She cocks a brow. “Okay?”
“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”
“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”
“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”
She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”
“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“
“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.
“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”
He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”
“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”
“Does it ever just feel like that?”
“…no.”
Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”
She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”
She shrugs.
Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”
“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”
“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”
She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”
Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”
“You really think he will?”
“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”
She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”
Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”
“But the Lieutenant—”
“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”
As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”
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lexirosewrites · 17 days
Text
Wealthy omega Steve going on an arranged date each week to the same restaurant because his parents want him to find a mate.
Alpha Eddie who busks in the parking lot for tips and always offers him a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on after it doesn’t work out.
It takes them a while.
“Another one? That’s the third date this week, pretty boy. You going for a record or something?” Eddie asks, already holding his half-finished cigarette out for Steve to take.
He does. It’s his only reward for doing all of this.
Well, that and Eddie.
Eddie makes this easier.
Steve takes a long draw from it, craving the burn of nicotine more than he cares to admit to himself.
He craves Eddie’s company too, but that’s between him and the cigarette.
“Yeah, my parents are working overtime it seems. They’re bound and determined to have me mated off before spring.”
Steve laughs.
Eddie doesn’t.
“They sound awful.”
They are. Their insistence on old-fashioned values and treating their omega son like a burden to be rid of is proof enough.
“They mean well,” he says. “I think.”
Eddie hums thoughtfully. It’s clear that he disagrees.
Steve passes the cigarette back.
The alpha snubs it out on the sidewalk they’re sitting on instead.
“How long are you gonna keep doing this for?”
“Well, as long as it takes to find someone who’s interested, I guess. There’s not an exact timeline or any—”
Eddie startles Steve when he cuts him off with a growl.
He doesn’t look mad, but his forehead creases, deep frown, and sour scent speaks of irritation.
“Not what I meant.”
Oh.
“I don’t know, Eddie. They’re my parents… and it’s not like I’ve got anyone else knocking down my door.”
Even his dates aren’t interested once they’ve met him in person.
Steve always looks good on paper. He’s attractive and from an upstanding family, a decent investment at first glance.
But then he opens his mouth. That’s where their interest always ends.
Sometime between shaking hands and dessert, their eyes get bored and they start checking their watch more. They don’t bother to hide that they’re running out the clock, eager to be away from Steve.
He thought it would hurt less after a while, but it doesn’t.
“How many times are we gonna do this, Stevie?“
And now even Eddie is bored with him. It makes sense. They’ve been meeting up for months and Steve isn’t worth much for stimulating conversation.
It had to end eventually.
“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was bothering you. I can leave you to your gigging, man. Let me just—”
Steve reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of bills to shove in Eddie’s guitar case as an apology for taking up his precious time.
Compensation for the therapy.
“Hey, no— that’s not what I meant, baby. I just— ugh, why is this so hard to say?” Eddie groans, grabbing at his own hair in frustration.
Steve hasn’t the faintest idea what’s ailing Eddie. The guy is normally chill 100% of the time. It’s why Steve goes to him for comfort. He’s hard to shake.
“Sorry?” he tries.
“No, I’m sorry! I just can’t sit here for yet another evening and pretend like there are more fish in the sea for you or whatever,” Eddie explains frantically, his eyes begging Steve to understand.
Ouch. Okay. Point made.
Steve is unlovable, got it.
He stands, brushing off his slacks so his shaking hands aren’t as noticeable.
Keep cool. Breathe.
“Understood. I won’t bother you anymore then. I can park across the street next time too. Good luck with everything, Eddie. I’m sure your band will get signed soon, you’re a talented musician.”
Eddie shoots to his feet, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs in the process.
He grabs the sleeve of Steve’s dress shirt, stopping him from leaving.
“Don’t go on anymore dates.”
Jesus.
“Yeah, I got it the first time, thanks. I’m undesirable. Can you stop repeating it?”
Eddie looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t say anything back. The bluntness must have caught him off guard.
Steve sighs, attempting to pull free from the alpha’s grip.
He almost manages it.
But then Eddie snaps back to reality and his eyes go wide for just a split moment before he kisses Steve right on the lips.
It’s unexpected to say the least.
It’s also probably the best kiss of his entire life. Too bad it’s from someone who just told him to quit dating because nobody will ever want to court him.
They finally break apart and Steve sways.
“Eddie… what in the actual hell are you—?”
“I love you! I love you— I’ve been in love with you for months, but you insist on going on all these dates with alphas who have no taste and they keep breaking your heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces, but I don’t want to keep handing them back. I want to keep you, Steve. I want to be the only alpha you go on dates with.”
Steve stops trying to run away.
Instead, he yanks at the collar of Eddie’s shirt, tugging him into another, longer kiss.
This is love, huh? Makes sense.
His lips are warm and so is his heart. Patched up once more and encased in a body other than his own
No more arranged dates.
“That was a ‘yes,’ in case it didn’t translate.”
Eddie’s face is flushed and his happy smile is infectious.
“I don’t have the kind of money your usual dates have, but I had this really cute guy way overtip me earlier. Can I buy you dinner, pretty boy?”
It’s the first of many.
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navybrat817 · 4 months
Note
" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "
With Bucky. 🥺
This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!
Give Me a Name
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.
The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.
You should’ve known they were close by.
“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.
Until today.
The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.
You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.
Today wouldn’t be that day.
He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?
What made you so special?
“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?
“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.
You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.
And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.
“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”
“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.
That was your job.
Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.
“Don’t make me shoot you.”
You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.
Not when he wanted to keep you.
“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”
“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”
“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.
“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”
You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.
Not when you belonged in different worlds.
“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”
The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.
“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”
Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”
“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”
You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”
The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.
“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”
He’d prove that to you.
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I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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blckbrrybasket · 2 months
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ᯓ★ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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MDNI
SFW
- Listens to She Wants Revenge and Rob Zombie
- With some of his jokes one of his favorite ones to pull is on new recruits. When someone asks what his story is or why he wears a mask he loves looking into the distance and saying, “It all started after the incident.”
- You know those tik toks of how someone’s boyfriend sleeps like a dead victorian child? Ghost sleeps like a plank of wood. Even in his sleep he looks like he hasn’t known a day of rest.
- Ghost’s laugh is thick, raspy, and broken up between coughs that only make him laugh harder. It’s full of life.
- If you watch Ghost for awhile you’ll notice the random faces he makes when he doesn’t have the mask on. He’s so used to people not seeing his face that he forgets to mask his emotions, sometimes blatantly making a disgusted face at someone. He has no idea why they fucked off somewhere else but he wasn’t going to ask
- Wears socks to sleep. No one in the task force has let it go.
- Will know he’s wrong in a non-serious argument, however, instead of admitting defeat he’ll say increasingly confusing things until the other person is too confused to keep arguing. It doesn’t do anything for him, he just thinks it’s funny.
- After drinks Ghost becomes a poet with how he talks about the people he loves.
- Ghost is so good at reading lips and has a scarily amazing hearing - Soap or Gaz will whisper something to each other about him and he’ll lean over them to go “what’d you say,” knowing full well what they said. He finds it hilarious watching them stumble on their words.
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SFW (serious)
- Ghost isn’t violent in his day to day life. He has moments of anger like anyone, but he would never hurt anyone he loves. He knows exactly how that feels and would never do that to someone else. Ghost takes pride in how far he’s come.
- Ghost doesnt normally wear his full mask in public, as it would draw way too much attention to him. Instead he wears a black face mask. He was sort of thankful for covid since he could blend into the crowd with his mask for once.
- Ghost is not heartless. No matter how much others try and sell it, he is not a heartless monster. At the end of the day he’s human and he hates that the most. He hates emotions, specifically sadness. It’s hard for him to deal with. Ghost tries not to close himself off, but he naturally deals with things on his own. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you to hold him though.
- He doesn’t understand crying over things people can’t solve or adverse reactions. If he sees someone have a ‘irregular’ outburst he has trouble gripping why. Ghost’s brain works very logically and though he struggles to grasp it he tries to understand. He won’t ever be the person who bursts into tears over a movie, but he works hard to understand where someone may be coming from.
- When Ghost talks about feelings he’s usually really blunt with it and says what he feels. He doesn’t like to drag his feet in the emotion and tries to move on from it as fast as he can. Unless he’s drunk then see above. (He’s a laid-back lovey drunk.)
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NSFW
- Contrary to popular belief, Ghost is pretty tame in bed. Every other part of his life is rough but with you in his arms he wants to savor how you feel. If you ask him to be rough he may be depending on his mood but he never does too much and always checks on you.
- It takes awhile of building trust, but Ghost eventually lets you ride him on top. He knows he’s a strong man and stop anything but it takes him a bit to be okay being on the bottom. At first his muscles are nervously wound tight until he feels himself enter. Imagine the universe zooming out dramatically, that’s how his brain feels when he experiences this for the first time with you. He ends up a drooling, groaning puddle.
- Always has a protective hand on you in public. His large palm spreads over the small of your back, sliding to cover your thigh when you sit in a chair. Ghost doesn’t even realize when his fingers instinctively draw circles on the muscle, missing how close they are to your crotch. When he plucks at the fabric of your bottoms and hears your shaky breath he realizes how much he’s riled you up. Don’t worry, he’ll always take care of you.
- Ghost doesn’t tend to jerk off much due to lack of time and not having a high sex drive. He honestly couldn’t care less whether he has sex or not. It’s never crossed his mind as an issue on either side of having it or not. When he does have sex he makes sure it’s fucking good. Ghost’s a thorough guy and he’s very thorough with you.
- Usually in the middle of the scale of preferring receiving or giving. After hearing your sweet noises he leans more towards preferring giving. He would never turn down a blowjob from you though.
- On the quieter side when fucking. Low groans, huffing, and sighs of relief. If you edge him for awhile, however, you can pull a few broken moans from him.
- Doesn’t wear the mask during sex unless you explicitly ask for it. It feels reassuring to bare his full self to you when having sex.
- Has to hide his smile when he sees the scratches down his back. He takes pictures and proudly sends them to you.
- Before getting into aftercare Ghost likes to sit there with you for a bit. He makes sure never to lay for too long so he can clean you up, but he always lays there with you to let the love seep into his bones. Ghost loves replaying the scene in his head to memorize your beauty.
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writing-imagines · 3 months
Text
Even Mean Girls Cry // Regina George
Summary: After hooking up with Regina for a year, you finally get to see her vulnerable side after The Plastics reject her at lunch.
Possible warnings: light swearing, bullying, and Regina being Regina
Pairing: Regina George x gender!neutral reader (readers gender literally isn’t mentioned)
A/n: first fic of 2024!! I love Reneé’s Regina so feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts about her
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Regina George wasn’t a good person. It was evident ever since the first grade when she told everyone that Peter Howell peed himself after she spilled apple juice on him. So, you did your best to avoid her, and her ever changing minions, every day as you grew up. When you reached high school, Regina’s antics became more frequent and hurtful. By the end of your freshman year, she had at least one embarrassing piece of information on everyone in school, yourself included. 
Your streak of successfully avoiding Regina came to an end after winter break during your sophomore year. Ms. Norbury asked you to be Regina’s Intermediate Math tutor since you had the highest grades in your Algebra 2 class. You were hesitant to accept the opportunity considering Regina’s reputation, but you knew tutoring would look great on your college application. You accepted Ms. Norbury’s request and so started your relationship with Regina George. 
At first, she sat across from you in the empty cafeteria after school, chomping loudly on her gum and texting a thousand words a minute. Her behavior continued every day that week and by Friday, you’d had enough. 
“Regina, stop wasting my time and pay attention.” You finally snapped after she blew an obnoxiously large pink bubble with her gum. Regina’s eyes slowly rose from her phone screen to you. 
“What did you just say to me?” Her eyes resting on you instantly made you lose the confidence you just had. 
“Oh-I…I meant you should pay attention. I’m trying to teach you, so you don’t fail your next algebra test.” You smiled nervously as Regina’s gaze dug further into you. After a few more moments of intense staring, the blonde let out a scoff. 
“You know, you’re actually kind of cute.” Her blue eyes looked you over, this time in a more flirtatious way. You felt like a lamb dangling over a hungry mountain lion. 
“Thanks.” You nervously looked away and rubbed the back of your neck in an attempt to get any relief from Regina’s presence. 
“So, you agree? You think you’re cute.” 
“Umm…I mean, I don’t really know.” Regina’s smile softened and she looked at you as if you were a lost puppy. Without warning, the blonde stood up and made her way to your side of the table. She sat down in the seat beside you and scooted as close as she possibly could, causing your face to warm and your heart to beat faster. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Y/n?” Regina questioned with her pointer and middle finger dancing on your thigh. Your throat went dry at the mention of the one thing you were embarrassed of. In a school full of hormonal teenagers, you were truly the only one who hadn’t kissed anyone yet. You were kicking yourself for accidentally telling Karen the sensitive information during a bonfire last year. 
“You know the answer, Regina.” You said with a defeated exhale. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Regina, instead, you kept your eyes glued to the table. Suddenly, the two fingers that danced on your thigh were placed gently under your chin, forcing you to look at the blonde beside you. Her eyes were kinder, and her smile was still soft, making you feel less embarrassed. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” You didn’t say anything, instead, you softly smiled and took in Regina’s features. You had never noticed how pretty her eyes were or how full her lips were. 
“Do you want to kiss me, Y/n?” Regina’s eyebrows lifted with the question. Without even thinking, you blurted out the answer. 
“Yes.” You swore for a moment Regina began to blush as she pushed a few stray hairs away from her face. 
“Okay. Close your eyes.” 
You did as you were told. For a moment, you were worried it was all just a prank, but when you felt Regina’s lips press against yours, you knew it had to be real. You did your best to reciprocate the kiss, causing Regina to let out a small moan, which caused your stomach to flip about ten times. Suddenly, you felt Regina’s hands find your neck and her perfectly manicured nails rested on the nape of your neck, effectively pulling you in deeper. 
The sound of a door slamming shut caused both of you to pull away quickly. You couldn’t help but stare at Regina with a bewildered look, seriously questioning if the kiss happened. 
“Wow, you're a pretty good kisser, Nerd.” 
“T-Thanks. You’re good too.” You sputtered with the most nervous tone you had ever heard from yourself. The blonde laughed before running her fingers along the edge of her lips to wipe away any smeared lip gloss. 
“I know.”  The two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours before Regina spoke up. 
“So, I’ll see you on Monday then.” She quickly stood up and gathered her things as if nothing had happened. 
“I’ll see you on Monday.” You echoed, wiping Regina’s cherry flavored lip gloss off your lips. 
“Bye, Nerd.” 
“Bye, Regina.” 
Almost a full year later and your hookups with Regina were still going strong. In fact, ever since Cady Heron started causing drama between the girls, you had been spending all of eighth period in the back seat of Regina’s Jeep, making out like it was your last moments on earth. Not to mention, secretly hooking up with the queen bee of North Shore gave you a major confidence boost that even Regina noticed. Your relationship had even gone to the next level: texting each other about things that didn’t involve when and where to hookup. 
You were sitting in Trigonometry when your phone pinged. You quickly checked it, not wanting to risk Ms. Norbury confiscating it. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see that Regina had texted you. 
RG: Sweatpants are the only things that fit me right now 
Y/n: So? 
RG: So? Jesus Y/n. I can’t wear sweatpants to lunch! 
Y/n: Because of the stupid rules YOU made?
RG: They aren’t stupid 
Y/n: I’m sure it’ll be fine. The girls will understand 
“Y/n, care to share with that class what on your phone is so important that you’re missing out on practice test questions?” 
“No. Sorry, Ms. Norbury. It won’t happen again.” 
“Good. Now, as I was saying…” You watched Ms. Norbury turn to write something on the board and quickly sent another text to Regina. 
Y/n: Just got called out by Norbury for texting you. Hope you’re happy 
You went the rest of class without hearing from Regina. In fact, you went most of the day without hearing from her. It was a little weird, but you knew she had a lot going on and it wasn’t like you needed constant communication with each other. 
When lunch came around, it was the same old same old. You sat down with some of your other tutor friends and talked about your day. As Daisy Smith talked about her failed attempt to teach Karen about fractions, you saw Regina walk towards The Plastics. True to her word, she wore gray sweatpants that grabbed your, and several others, attention. You didn’t eye Regina for long, not wanting anyone to accuse you of being a creep or being in love with her. You looked down at your lunch only for the room to suddenly go quiet. 
“You can’t sit with us!” Gretchen’s voice echoed through the silent room. No one dared to even gasp as Regina fired back. 
“Sweatpants are all that fit me right now.” Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could tell Regina was talking through gritted teeth. 
“What do you think, Cady?” Gretchen asked, her voice once again echoing through the room. 
“Sorry, Regina. Rules are rules.” Seeing the sly look on Cady’s face made you want to march over to her and smash a tray of food in her face. You knew that would lead to a suspension, so you made a mental note to figure out some way to get back at Cady that wouldn’t result in a week off school.
“Fine.” 
Regina turned around to see every eye in that room on her. You could tell by the look on her face that for once, she hated the attention. Not a single person in that room moved to make room for Regina as she walked down the aisle. 
“Daisy, scoot down.” You quickly nudged the redhead to make room for Regina.
“Regina, you can sit with us.” You offered, eyes slightly full of hope that she would accept the offer and somehow make the situation better.
“I’m not sitting with you losers.” She spat out as she stormed past your table. 
“What a bitch.” Glenn Coco scoffed. Your blood boiled at Glenn’s comment, but you knew you had to play it cool to avoid any suspicion. 
“Guys, I forgot my math book in Ms. Norbury’s. I’m going to grab it really quick.” 
You quickly got up from the table, leaving your tray behind, and stormed off to find Regina. You searched her usual hangout spots, the maintenance room and the girl’s locker room in the gym. When you didn’t find her in either place, you made your way to the only other place she could be, the parking lot.
Sure enough, as you approached her Jeep, you saw Regina sitting in the passenger seat. Even from far away, you could tell she was crying. Cautiously, you approached the car and tapped on her window. The blonde’s head instantly shot up, revealing her red eyes and mascara stained cheeks. You had never seen Regina cry before, and the sight actually shocked you to your core. Without saying a word, you walked over to the driver’s side and climbed in. 
“What are you doing?” Regina questioned through sniffles as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. 
“I’m taking you home.” Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when you noticed a picture of Regina, Karen, and Gretchen resting on her dashboard as you drove out of the parking lot. 
“I don’t need you to take me home.” Regina tried to use her usual venomous tone, but it came out shaky and pitiful. 
“I don’t care if you need me to. I want to take you home. That was fucking ridiculous.” 
After a few minutes of silence, you looked over to see tears still rolling down Regina’s face. Based on how her bottom lip was quivering, you knew Regina really needed to cry. You carefully reached your right hand over to Regina and grabbed her hand. 
“It’s okay to cry. They tried to humiliate you in front of the whole school. You don’t have to hide it from me.” You squeezed Regina’s hand, which caused her to quickly pull her hand away. 
“I am not crying because of those bitches. I’m crying because all I can wear is sweatpants and my mascara is ruined.” That time Regina was able to spit out her usual venom. While her tone would intimidate most people, it let you know Regina was going to be okay. 
“Those are still valid reasons to cry.” You said matter-of-factly. You felt Regina’s eyes land on you again, causing you to glance over at her. 
“Why are you so nice to me all the time?” 
“Because I’m a nice person.” You shrugged, not wanting to give away your true feelings for Regina. 
“I think it’s because you like me.” 
“And what if I did?” You replied without missing a beat. Once again, you were kicking yourself for not thinking before you spoke. 
“I’d have to give you a makeover. I can’t date anyone who dresses like that.” 
“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” 
“Nothing, if you’re going for a grocery store clerk.” You scoffed and acted offended by Regina’s words, which made the blonde crack a smile. 
“I do not dress like a grocery store clerk.” 
You both chuckled as you pulled up to the George's home. You instantly took note that Mrs. George’s car was missing from the driveway. 
“Do you want to come in? My mom isn’t home.” Regina looked at you with hopeful eyes. Not wanting to leave Regina alone after a traumatic event, you decided that it would be a good idea for you to stick around for a little while longer.
“Yeah, I’ll come in for a little bit.” 
You turned off the car and let Regina take the lead into her home. The second the front door closed behind you, Regina took your hand and led you up to her room. 
“Shoes off and get on the bed.” The blonde commanded.
“Regina, I don’t think we should-”
“Relax, Nerd. I just want you to hold me and tell me I’m pretty.” 
You quickly kicked your shoes off and lied down on the right side of the bed. Once you were comfortable, Regina joined you. Within seconds, her head found a comfortable spot on your chest, resting between your jaw and collarbone. Her hand found its way down to your stomach and balled the fabric of your shirt into her hand. After Regina was comfortable, you snaked your arm around her and held her close. You couldn’t help but look down at the blonde with a smile. When she wasn’t ruining people’s lives, Regina was actually kind of sweet. 
“Hey, Regina?”
“What, Nerd?” 
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 
“Yeah, I know.” You could feel Regina’s smirk against your neck, which only made you fall a little harder for her.
You laid there, holding the blonde like your life depended on it. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder about finally telling Regina how you felt about her. It seemed like a good idea, especially after a hard day, but the thought of losing her stopped you. So, you just let Regina George, the meanest girl in North Shore, sleep on your chest while you held her close. 
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stevieschrodinger · 4 months
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Eddie notices things.
He might be loud and brash, might be over the top and his mouth might run away before his brain can kick in, but he still notices things.
He likes the details. Loves a fantasy world that’s so detailed it’s believable. Loves a tiny detail in a story that becomes relevant two hundred pages later. Loves a detail in a puzzle in a DnD game. He loves the minutia of everything.
So he notices these details about people. Mostly because Eddie likes to create people. He likes to write his own stories, likes to make his DnD characters real...foibles and all. Any time Eddie is alone, or bored, or waiting, sometimes he looks around and thinks, ‘if I were writing this, how would I describe it?’ And then he does...he writes in his head about the tree he can see, what the weather is doing right now, how he would describe the quality of the sunlight or the way the rain rattles against the window. He watches complete strangers and writes out their whole life in his head. Eddie likes the details, and he likes to create characters, and he also thinks, a lot of the time, you write what you know.
So yeah, Eddie pays attention to the people around him. How they dress, how they behave, if they bite their nails or chew pen lids. If they stand straight or lounge against the nearest wall or counter. How they cradle their smoke in their hand when it’s breezy out.
All the little details he can build into characters he makes in his mind.
Steve’s calendar interests him. It probably shouldn’t, that stuff would be private if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s hanging in Steve’s kitchen where anyone can see it. Plus the fact that it is just a calendar and there for by it’s nature isn’t very interesting. Eddie thinks he finds it interesting just by the virtue that it’s to do with Steve Harrington, and therefore it immediately becomes very interesting to Eddie.
It’s got big pages, a decent amount of space to write in every day. And Steve has. Every single day.
There’s a pattern to it that Eddie deciphers pretty fast; his shift at work is on the top line; it’s in red. Next is anything to do with the kids, and it’s in green; picking the kids up or meeting them or going to a game for Lucas or basically anything like that. Then blue, and that seems to be stuff to do with Eddie himself, Robin, Nancy, if he needs to meet them, give them a ride somewhere, or just times to hang out.
The bottom line is in black, and it’s stuff like, ‘hoover’, ‘do laundry’, ‘bathroom,’ ‘kitchen’, ‘groceries,’ followed by a little note that seems to be about whatever Steve plans to have for dinner that night.
Below it is a note pad, also hanging up, with an in process grocery list on it. Eddie knows why all this is here; Steve’s forgetful.
If Steve makes plans, he immediately writes it down; Eddie’s seen it for himself.
Eddie sees it too, when Steve’s struggling to hear. If too many people speak at once, or if there’s too much background noise, Steve doesn’t stand a chance.
If he’s not looking at you when you’re speaking to him, chances are, he might not be hearing you. Which, okay, Eddie’s just kind of rolling with it.
Until they get together. No one was more surprised by this turn of events than Eddie, who was convinced that he was just going to pine after Steve forever and that would just be how things were for the rest of his life. That was right up until Steve Harrington held his hand and just sort of...seemed to forget to let go.
Eddie hasn’t pointed it out to him yet, he’s still kind of worried that if he points out the fact that they’re kind of, sort of, dating, Steve might realize and stop again. So yeah, Eddie rides the wave, not at all freaking out when Steve invites him over for dinner and a movie like that’s just a normal thing they do now. Because it is. Because they’re kind of dating.
There’s no answer, but that’s pretty normal, the front door is unlocked a lot of the time, Steve doesn’t want to hinder anyone's entry if there’s any kind of emergency going on, and it’s totally normal now for any of them to just wander into Steve’s house.
Steve is cooking; Eddie can smell it. He stands in the kitchen doorway and says Steve’s name. And predictably, Steve doesn’t react.
Eddie takes this as an opportunity to gauge this. He says Steve’s name a little louder; still nothing.
Eddie tries four times, a step closer and a little louder each time, until the last time, when Steve spins around so fast the spoon he’s holding splatters sauce on the counter top and his other hand flies to his chest, “holy shit.”
“Sorry,” Eddie rubs at Steve’s arm and shoulder as he gets his breathing under control, “you couldn’t hear me.”
Steve shrugs, “it’s fine.”
“Stevie…you could at least, you know, go get them checked, or whatever.”
Steve hums, "maybe, if you go with me," and Eddie's quick to agree, because he gets a kiss out of it.
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