#//a sudden horror of taking up space in their home

[wonderingprince]

This time his gaze follows Hektor's, catching on the woman weaving through the assembly. He watches as she comes to a stop in his line of sight, in amongst the crowd of people and his gaze meets hers briefly.

She could be anyone, but there is no doubt in his mind that this is Polyxena.

Telemakhos tears his gaze away; partly out of a strong desire to be polite, mostly because as she stands there, half-hidden in the shadows, watching silently, he is reminded fiercely of his mother. Days from not that long ago, when Telemakhos sat uncomfortably in his own infested halls, when he would glance up and see his mother watching them, him, both of them helpless in their own way.

However unfair the comparison, it makes him feel shame just for standing here, fulfilling the duty his father swore on.

If this were a private meeting, perhaps he could manage to make them understand that Telemakhos does not have it in him to force an unwilling bride. But would Troy take it as an insult if he declares too readily that he doesn't actually care if he marries the princess? He doesn't dare risk it, he has no desire to be the cause of another war.

But if he's going to be here for a while, perhaps he will get the chance to speak more freely, less publicly.

So he tucks away his own doubts, and smiles brightly at Hektor in a way that Peisistratus had said makes him look even younger than his years. "I will be honored to share your hospitality, Lord Hektor," he answers, as if there are not many, many reasons why the man in front of him might want him dead. "And I will make sure Mentor knows the invitation is extended to him, too.

A pause, and then. "But if it would be more appropriate, I would just as gladly stay onboard the ships. I have not come here to cause trouble, or to take offense to reasonable requests. Ithaka will not be worrying about me yet."

There are some distinct benefits to travelling with a goddess, after all.

Hektor makes sure that the prince of Ithaka says his piece without interruption, although, throughout the megaron, people are hearing of Odysseus' return for the first time. News from a remote Achaean island is scarce unless one seeks it, but now, at long last, like the end of the war itself... Hektor, watching the reaction as much as the speaker, is not surprised to see widespread distrust.

If it's a lie, it's one far easier to disprove than if Telemakhos had declared Odysseus finally dead. Were he king himself, there would be no other authority to appeal to for proof, and undoubtedly this meeting would have begun differently.

Hektor often misses his father; there is no substitute for his experience and wisdom, his pride and warmth. He loved his father. But he does not miss the uncertain nature of the authority that came with being crown prince well into his manhood.

Telemakhos' composure, at least, he can respect, but the burden of proof is still his, not Hektor's.

"Lord Odysseus' pains must have been great indeed... though neither that suffering nor yours was of Troy's making. And it is your betrothal to a princess of Troy, not your father's unfortunate absence, which concerns us here."

Still keeping close to Kassandra, the princess in question is weaving her way closer to the front of the hall. She navigates the crowd without difficulty, slight as she is, and keeps to the back so that she won't attract attention. Still, as she's the only person in motion, it isn't hard for Hektor to spot her. She stops again where she can see the prince better, watching him with dark, wary eyes.

Polyxena has every right to hear this, but Hektor wishes she didn't have to. He doesn't know what he or anyone else could say to convince her to take some time to herself. Paris would have found a way to draw her aside. He had a gentle touch for dispelling her seriousness, like a breeze at rain clouds.

The Paris of ten years ago, at least, would have. Perhaps not if he had seen so many of his sisters make Achaean marriages, to stitch up the ugly gash left by his.

Hektor feels decades settle on him at once. He's so tired of sending people to the altar of the war, even long after it's ended. If such things ever end.

In the meantime, there is ever another problem to solve.

"Shall we send our messengers to Ithaka, then, to tell of your safe arrival? I am sure the king and queen will be relieved to hear it."

Until they send some confirmation in return, the betrothal cannot proceed. This is tedious, but fair.

And it will give Polyxena time. To prepare in whatever way she sees fit, or to make other wishes known.

"I regret that we have not been able to receive Lord Mentor into the city. If you and your company desire to remain until we hear word, you will be welcome to our hospitality, son of Odysseus." If he is who he says he is, or if not. "That is, if you are not expected home too soon."

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (if you squint), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, some violence (nothing major)

words. 3.3k (this kind of got away from me)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

You don’t know how you got here, really.

Actually, you do. And you’re slowly regretting every decision that has led you to this moment by the minute.

But alas—here you are, watching Bakugou (or rather, his expensive ass sports car) pull over in front of your apartment.

And you’re about to say screw it and go back inside and just text him you don’t feel too well as if you weren’t just at the front door a second ago when your boss finally steps out of the driver’s seat.

Now you’ve seen Bakugou dressed up on numerous occasions. Never as his date or companion—hell, no—but you’ve witnessed him dressed up to the 9’s enough to reach the point of not getting affected at the sight of him in a suit and his hair pushed back.

But you can’t help the sudden tightness in your throat when you do see him.

He walks up to the porch and stops a few feet away from you and almost immediately, he gives you a once-over. Despite yourself, you look down at your heeled feet, suddenly feeling overly self-conscious. Or maybe it’s also to stop yourself from staring at him because damn.

And you hate yourself for it.

It’s his voice, though, that pulls you out of your hazy stupor. “Are you hopping in are we just gonna stand here all night?”

You internally roll your eyes as you follow him to his car, feet already starting to hurt even though you literally just put the heels on a few minutes ago. You’re about to open the door to the backseat when Bakugou stops you with one hand and opens the door to the passenger side with the other.

You look up at him in question, although you quickly look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, and shuffle in. “You really don’t have to do—that—” he shuts the door, “okay.”

He rounds the hood of his car and settles on his seat soon after. As he brings the engine to life and tinkers with the Bluetooth, you take the opportunity to take in the interior of his car. Needless to say, it is immaculate—this being the first time you’ve ever been here as you’ve always declined any offer from him to drive you home.

Why is that?

You’d chalk it up to feeling uncomfortable about your boss giving you a lift, especially as the HR head, but deep inside you know it’s more because being in a small space with him (alone, especially) makes you just a tad bit crazy.

Just a bit.

Since when has this been a thing?

Shrugging off the rather unsettling thought, you intentionally bring your mind to other things, like how nice the car smells—or how your hair and makeup ended up exceeding your expectations. You’re in the middle of appreciating how smooth Bakugou’s driving is when it hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Hold up—” you turn to him in horror, “you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

At that, Bakugou’s face contorts in what you think is offense before it morphs into a snark expression, like he’s about to retort with a playful quip but decides against it last minute.

“No.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slump against your seat, relieved. You can’t believe you forgot to ask about this crucial piece of information prior to agreeing to this ruse.

A foreign kind of curiosity—the type that you haven’t felt in a while—suddenly takes seed and blooms in you, particularly about Bakugou and his romantic life. But you quickly tamp it down before you blurt out a wildly inappropriate personal question to your boss.

The second Bakugou puts the car in park, you hurriedly climb out of the passenger seat, not minding how ungraceful you look, desperate to get out of the small bubble you’ve found yourself sharing with your boss for the last hour.

Quickly scanning your surroundings, you find that there aren’t many people in the parking lot—perhaps it’s because of the fact that you’re cutting it close, which was totally not a conscious decision so that you’d spend the least amount of time at the wedding as possible—but as you two walk in silence towards the venue entrance, you start noticing it.

You feel people holding their gazes directed towards the both of you a little longer than normal. You try to shrug it off, but even as you state your name to the kind-looking lady who you believe is assigned to usher guests to their seats, you’re acutely aware that a silence has befallen upon the room and it’s your arrival that has caused it.

And you’d bet good money you saw in your peripheral vision a few do a double-take upon seeing you.

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her shock upon seeing the number two pro-hero. Eyes wide as saucers, she barely stammers out his pro-hero name in what you believe is a…question?

Bakugou, the ever-skilled PR prince that he is, merely gives her a curt and somehow pained nod, as if this exchange is yards beneath him. “That’s me. My name’s probably not on the list, though,” he gestures to you, “I’m just her plus one.”

With that, it’s as if the lady just got reminded that you were standing just right beside him and that you existed.

“Oh, of course!” Her eyes dart toward you and then back at him and suddenly her eyeballs are akin to that of the toy in a pinball machine—darting between the two of you in record speed, the gears in her head turning as if processing what the fuck this lowly guest is doing, showing up with the Dynamight to a wedding.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, probably feeling self-conscious in front of the man, “what was your name again?”

You repeat yourself with the most gracious smile you can muster. You can’t blame the woman for slightly losing her cool in front of the boss. The only reason you’re not stumbling and embarrassing yourself in front of him is because you’ve had practice.

In fact, three years and eight months worth of it.

But that practice practically flies out the window when you feel something brush against your right hand before encasing it entirely.

You look down at the point of sensation and it takes everything in you not to gawk at the sight of Bakugou’s big, firm hand wrapped around yours. You immediately whip your head to look up at him, but the guy isn’t even looking at you. Instead, he seems to be listening intently to what the lady is saying that’s a hundred percent going in one of your ears and out the other.

“…f-follow me—right this way, p-please!”

You stumble behind him as he leads you to where the lady is directing the both of you, hands still interlocked.

“What are you doing?” you hiss-whisper, keeping your voice low enough to make sure she doesn’t hear you panic.

“I’m saving your life, dumbass,” he hisses back.

Saving your life? The man is giving you a damn heart attack. And making you the target of the thousands of news outlets known to man.

“Oh, do tell me how that’s so?”

Although you can’t see his face as he’s practically dragging you forward by your now clammy appendage, you’re 99% sure he’s rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘cause people are fucking staring.”

“So naturally you have to hold my hand?”

He halts to an immediate stop and you almost collide with his backside if not for your marginally quick enough reflexes. He scowls at you over his shoulder and it shocks you to see how red he’s gotten over a reasonable question from your end.

It’s not like you just asked him why he’s number two or something.

“Yes, I do, if we want a shot at making this the slightest bit believable.”

Before you even get the chance to respond (that is, grumble at him like a petulant child because the motherfucker is making sense—like he always is), you get interrupted.

“Is everything alright?”

Both of you quickly face the lady who you find is trying not to let the concern get to her already wobbly smile.

She’s failing.

“Yeah!”

“Yup.”

At that, she nods, although she seems to be suspicious—hesitant, at best. “Well, then—these are your seats. Enjoy the wedding!”

The ceremony couldn’t have been more dragged out if they tried. They probably had a dozen technical difficulties. The flower girls who were literal toddlers refused to walk down the aisle and had to be hauled by their parents to get it done and over with. The officiator was so irritatingly loud that he didn’t even need a microphone from the sheer volume of his booming voice. And you could tell he was going over the time limit because the wedding coordinators at the perimeters of the venue were getting more and more antsy by the minute.

Bakugou, who was seated on your right, was not fairing any better. You lost count of the times his head bobbed toward you as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week—you knew that. A notorious villain has recently resurfaced and he and Kirishima were the police’s primary contacts for this case. Suddenly feeling guilty for having inadvertently dragged him to this snoozefest with you, you debated whether or not to tell him he can rest on your shoulder so he can get some rest but immediately decided against it because what the fuck.

Eventually, and miraculously, you get past the ceremony relatively unscathed. Well, as far as unscathed in this situation can get.

You managed to avoid your ex’s sights the entire time. Luckily, you and Bakugou were assigned at a far-away table alongside distant friends and relatives—courtesy of the bride, probably, and really, you couldn’t be more thankful. By the time picture-taking per table rolled around, you conveniently excused yourself to the bathroom and waited it out until you were sure your group’s time was up. When you sheepishly walked back to your table, Bakugou didn’t seem to be too comfortable, probably from having been left alone, but from the look in his eyes, you could tell he knew what you were doing and why you did it. Despite his appearances, he’s perceptive like that.

With only a few, necessary words exchanged between the two of you, and the occasional smiles and affectionate behavior whenever either of you felt prying eyes, you eventually find yourself finally loosening up and relaxing.

In contrast to the past few hours in which you were evidently tense and barely managed to join in on small talk around you, you’re now actually conversing with your table-mates who, thankfully, haven’t asked you how you were related to the bride and groom.

Bakugou probably notices this change in demeanor because you spot him eyeing you with a serious look on his face before cooly looking away as if you didn’t just catch him studying you.

Before you can think much of the expression on his face, the young woman seated across from you who you’ve gotten to know as Kairi says your name, effectively snapping you out of thought.

Right before dousing you with ice water with a supposedly innocent question.

“Sorry—what?”

She chuckles harmlessly, paying no mind to your reaction. “I said, how do you know the bride and the groom?”

Shit.

“I—uh,” against your will, you chance a look at Bakugou who’s already looking at you with a seemingly neutral expression, although you’ve been around him long enough to see the traces of panic adorning his features.

A few more seconds pass by in silence before you decide to just tell the truth.

You laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. “I’m actually an ex-girlfriend…”

Unsurprisingly, everyone at the table goes quiet at your admission, before they seemingly remember to put up appearances by laughing good-naturedly with you.

“Well, good on you for showing up!” Kairi says, giving you a thumbs up. The rest of the group pack on their agreement and support. She eyes Bakugou with a mischievous grin, “And with precious cargo, too.”

Her friends elbow her in chastisement, and you can’t help the flush that takes over your face at her unabashed flirting. You chance a glance at the man in question, only to find him acting like he couldn’t give a single fuck.

You’re about to pipe up with a genuine compliment in Bakugou’s way, lest they end up thinking you don’t agree that “your man” is fine as fuck (and isn’t this the part where a person is supposed to brag about their partner?) when a silence befalls upon your table again.

Only this time is more awkward than the last.

“What..?”

You follow Kairi’s line of vision and turn to look at the thing behind you that’s caught their attention only to find yourself face-to-face with him.

He exclaims your name—like he’s delighted to see you—before scooping you up and bringing you into his arms.

You collide with his chest with an unceremonious ‘oof’ and despite yourself, you toss Bakugou a look (cry) for help over the guy’s shoulder.

And like the hero that he is, Bakugou stands up smoothly, buttoning his suit all the while.

Clearing his throat, he shoots your ex a stony glare while offering a hand to shake. “Good to meet ‘ya. I’m Bakugou, her boyfriend.”

A whirlwind of emotions dances across the guy’s face before they finally settle into one that causes scalding shame to stir within your gut: utter disbelief.

“My bunny got herself a boyfriend?” You cringe at the sound of your old pet name, and Bakugou’s glare turns even colder at the mention of it. You try to ignore the hurt that’s springing in your chest at your ex’s incredulous tone.

The guy’s eyes dart between the two of you before they finally settle on your boss. “And that person is you?”

As if he couldn’t get higher on the asshole meter, your ex drops his head back as he howls in laughter, as if he just heard the funniest joke ever. You feel your face flame in humiliation, and it’s as if you get possessed for the next few seconds.

Because in the blink of an eye, you find yourself clenching your fist so hard and bringing it up to the asshole’s face, where it collides with his jaw with a loud crack.

Almost instantaneously, you recoil and bring your hand back to yourself because that shit hurt, and fuck, you just punched a guy.

At his wedding.

You don’t know what comes over you because the first thing you do is not apologize to the guy who’s writhing in pain on the floor or look at the people who are most probably already watching the scene. No, the first thing you do is whip to look at Bakugou, who’s now grinning at you.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab your purse with one hand, Bakugou’s hand with the other, and toss your dickhead of an ex a ‘have a great rest of your wedding’ before beelining out of there and straight to the car of the man whose hand you’re holding.

“I—”

“Nope.”

“You—”

“No.”

“Just—”

“Shut the fuck up, Bakugou.”

At your crass words, Bakugou takes his eyes off the road to look at you in amused disbelief (or, at least you think so—you’re only looking at the man through your periphery; you’re too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes right now).

“Woah, there, princess,” you can hear him smirking. “Not sure that’s how you want to talk to your boss.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you fix your gaze to your right, itching to get out of the car. “I thought you were my date tonight. You can’t be both at the same time. That—that just doesn’t sit right with me. You know, as the HR head of your agency?”

The man merely snickers in response, and you’re lulled into a comfortable silence.

Before he decides to speak again.

“‘Have a great rest of your wedding,’” he chuckles to himself as he stops at a red light. “Classic.”

You turn to regard him, having had enough. “Do you mind? I’m kind of having a crisis here.”

At that, he snorts. “Over what? You just had the best payback in history.”

You ignore him, opting to bury your face in your hands instead as you wail, “I punched a guy at his wedding.”

“Damn straight, you did.”

You gape at him like he just grew horns. “I’m sorry, were you not there? In case you forgot, Mr. Dynamight, you were technically my date. You’re guilty by association.”

Just as he is about to respond, the traffic light quickly turns to yellow then green, and you take it as an opportunity to keep rambling.

“And practically everyone there knows you. Shit, Mikuri-san is going to kill me.”

“Tadashi Mikuri? From PR?”

“Yes,” you seethe, although you know Bakugou has done nothing wrong to be at the receiving end of your shame-induced anger. You groan, “This is going to be a nightmare to clean up.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything after that, and you have to restrain yourself from poking at him to say anything—anything, really—to assure you that no, everything is going to be okay, and that no, your career or reputation is not over.

Eventually, and without you noticing, you pull up in the driveway of your apartment. Heaving a deep sigh, you will yourself to finally keep your chin up and face whatever the fuck is waiting for you tomorrow head-on, even if you were going to do it alone. Grabbing your purse and phone, you’re about to thank him and say good night when Bakugou reaches over the console and places a hand over yours.

“I—” he starts, and you look at him expectantly, trying not to seem weird about the contact.

He clears his throat before giving you the most reassuring nod, “I’ll take care of the press. Don’t worry about it.”

Before you can ask him how the hell he’s planning to go about that, he beats you to it. “And don’t ask me how. Just—” he finally looks at you, “trust me.”

You can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod back.

The next morning, you wake up on the relatively right side of the bed for once until the events of yesterday come crashing down on you like an unprecedented avalanche, effectively robbing you of your good mood.

You chance a peek at the phone on your nightstand, debating whether or not to throw it away and religiously avoid social media for the rest of your days. After what feels like an hour, however, you decide against it and pick the gadget up.

Only to be met with 57 texts, 23 missed calls, and 300+ notifications on your Twitter and Instagram accounts each.

Your stomach sinks as the feeling of dread instantly washes over you. Overwhelmed, you click on one familiar message thread you have with your best friend.

(11:46 PM) bestie<3: girlllll (11:46 PM) bestie<3: what the actual FUCK pick up your phone (11:47 PM) bestie<3: NOT YOU PUNCHING THAT DOUCHEBAG (11:47 PM) bestie<3: and since when have you been dating dynamight??? HELLOOOO??? (11:47 PM) bestie<3: when were you planning to tell me all of this bc im lowkey salty (11:51 PM) bestie<3: girl…. you have to see this (11:51 PM) bestie<3: (see link)

Your fingers are practically trembling when you click on the link, and in hindsight, you’re glad you’re on your bed because what you see next makes you drop your phone:

BREAKING: #2 Pro-hero Dynamight seen at a wedding, alleged “date” punches the groom

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a lovely day!

[cherry-burst]

Hiya 😊 I'm not sure if you're taking requests but I had an idea for a Zayne one shot, MC and him shower together with him initiating, starts off gentle and eventually gets heated🔥😗😂 I was thinking could even work as a pt. 2 to the Rest Easy fic 🥰 Let me know what you think! 🤗

Hey! Thanks for the ask. And for sure! I like that idea ❤️

Zayne x F!MC “I Owe You”

Love and Deepspace

Smut🔞MDNI | Fingering | Shower Sex | 3.4k Words

AN: This is a companion fic to “Rest Easy” but you do NOT have to have read it to understand or enjoy this one. Cheers!

The sun was setting in the sky as Zayne made his way home. The news on the radio reminded him that there was a possibility of a snowstorm overnight. That didn’t concern him. But, his girlfriend urged him to get home before the snow started to ensure his safety. It was supposed to be a long weekend after all, and the two of them had lots of things planned. She, understandably, didn’t want anything to stand in their way.

When he finally made it home, he removed his coat and scarf and hooked them onto the coat rack. The house was tidy, the curtains were drawn, and the dishwasher was running. He toed off his shoes and called out for her. 

She didn’t respond so he walked farther into the house. She had to be home, her shoes and purse were sitting by the front door. 

“Where are you?” He asked curiously when she didn’t respond. 

Zayne’s footsteps echoed in the hall as he made his way to the bedroom. The sound of the shower made him realize why she hadn’t been responding. The rushing sound of the water would have muffled any noise beyond their bedroom.

Now that he was in the room, he knocked gently on the ajar door. Steam rolled out from the crack as it creaked open from his touch. 

“I’m home.” He spoke into the attached bathroom. 

“Oh!” he heard her voice, jarred by the sudden intrusion. Zayne was amused by how little was needed to startle her. He was sure he could put effort into scaring her and make her scream like an actor in a horror movie that was getting chased if he tried. The shower curtain crinkled, and her head popped out from behind. “Welcome home!” She smiled at him, conditioner sitting on her hair. 

Zayne smiled, removing his watch and glasses and placing them on the nightstand. “I made it back before the snowstorm hit, like you requested.” 

He mentioned this casually, but secretly he wanted the praise for listening to her request. He looked back at her as he untucked his shirt from his slacks. 

“You sure did,” She smiled at him. Her eyes lingered on him for a long moment before she asked, “Would you like to join me?” she said with a flirty quirk of her brow. 

“In fact, I would love to join you.” He agreed immediately, stepping into the steamy bathroom while undoing his tie. His day hadn’t been particularly stressful, but seeing her was always a stark contrast to anything mundane. She lit up his life, she was the color on the page, the light in a dim room. 

She disappeared back into the shower to rinse off. The condensation fogged the mirror as the heated water billowed mist over the top of the shower curtain. The steam made it harder to breathe and caused his hair to stick to his face. 

Zayne unbuttoned his shirt as he walked over a pile of clothes she’d discarded on the floor. Her bra was on top of the pile, and his tie quickly joined it. He shrugged off his shirt and froze when his girlfriend popped her head out again. 

“How was your day?” She asked him, her tone light and friendly as water dripped down her face and hair. She reached beyond the curtain with a wet hand and pressed against his stomach. 

Zayne inhaled at the gentle touch. “Not bad. It hasn’t been as busy lately. I only had three back-to-back patients,” He looked down as her hand continued to move until it reached his slacks. “The rest were spaced out,” He tried to keep his tone even, but when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled, Zayne’s words faltered. “I had plenty of time to get my reports done before my next appointment.” He finished, his tone dipping lower. 

She pulled until Zayne was inches away from her face. “Oh? That’s good. I’m glad it hasn’t been too stressful for you.” Her gaze drifted down to his torso. “And how was your stitch removal?” 

Zayne angled his body so she could see where the old stab wound from weeks ago had fully healed. The stab wound he’d gotten from a feral patient had healed rather quickly despite its size. The healing process left a pink line on his skin, healing perfectly back into place. 

“It was fine. I did it myself.” He rubbed the scar and then looked up at her. “How was your day?” 

He began to unbutton his slacks, the steam of the shower making him sweat. Now he really wanted to rinse off. 

“It was fine.” She answered just as Zayne began to enter the shower with her. She pressed her lips together as her eyes wandered over his tall frame. “I’m glad it's finally the weekend. I’m ready to spend time with you.” 

Zayne kept his eyes on hers, stepping closer to place his hands on her waist. He hoped the blush he was sporting could be misconstrued for being hot in the humid air the shower caused. 

“I’m ready for that as well. I know we split up the planning to keep things a surprise for one another, but I am rather curious about what you will have us do tomorrow since the snowstorm may make us homebound.” 

He tugged on her waist and his girlfriend swapped places with him under the shower head. Zayne faced the spray of water and ran his fingers through his hair, soaking himself. Hot steam rose off his body, the scalding water making his pale skin tinge pink. 

“I planned some alternate things just in case one of my ideas fell through.” She answered, her hands squeezing water out of her hair. 

Zayne was so lost relishing in the heat of the shower, that he was surprised by a sensation on his back. His girlfriend was rubbing a washcloth over his shoulder blades, soapy suds bubbling over his skin in its wake. 

He let out a small ‘hmph’. “Are you going to wash me?” He said in an amused tone. 

He twisted to look at her but was quickly pushed to turn back around by her smaller hand. His brows rose. 

“Only if you stay still.” She admonished. 

Zayne let her lather up his back with the floral soap, the suds slowly dripping down to his thighs. Her other hand smoothed down his spine, slowly inching down until she was holding his waist, then moving lower. 

Zayne’s heart rate spiked at the touch. He took a deep breath as her hand crept down brushing over his backside. “I see now. You have ulterior motives. And here I thought you just wanted me clean.”

“Of course, I want you clean. That's my only motive.” She responded, her hand running over the curve of his ass. 

“Mhm,” Zayne responds, letting her do as she pleases. He grabs a bottle of shampoo from the ledge, her bottle, and administers a healthy dollop of strawberry scented soap into his hand.

As his girlfriend's hands wander, her fingertips find their way to the pink scar on his side. She runs her digits along the line, his abs flexing with her touch. The sensation caused a gasp to catch in Zayne’s throat. 

She asks “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head “Just sensitive is all. It's fine” He scrubs his hair with her shampoo, then steps under the water to rinse it out. 

She moves the washcloth over his neck while her hand rests on his side. 

“You know,” He began, his tone dipping as the washcloth carefully ran down his right arm. “I recall a moment when I said I owed you.” 

Her hand paused. That was weeks ago, of course. The two of them had been careful as his wound healed, making sure not to indulge in too many bedroom activities so he could heal quickly. They were also not always home at the same time. It had been a while since they’d been properly intimate and Zayne was keen on taking advantage of that this weekend. Starting now. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” She spoke quietly, the washcloth moving up and down his side. 

Zayne turned to face her, the shower water washing the suds off his back. “Oh, but I do.” 

His fingers slid over her collarbone as he allowed his gaze to lock onto hers. Her pupils dilated under his watch, his hand cupping her cheek to angle her face to meet his. The kiss ignited a deep ache in Zayne, an ache only she could satisfy. He moved to kiss her at a new angle as her hands came up to wrap around him, the washcloth plopping to the bottom of the tub.

She pulls back first, the conditioning treatment in her hair sliding down her forehead. “I need to rinse off…” She was breathless sending a ping of confidence through Zayne. 

They swapped places so she could get the brunt of the shower’s hot water. The wall tiles were dewy with droplets as Zayne helped her rinse the conditioner out of her hair. He squeezed and rang out extra water until it ran clear. 

“Thank you,” She said, rubbing her eyes free of water so she could see. 

Zayne’s lips pressed against her neck as his arms wrapped around her from behind. “You’re very welcome.” His voice was a whisper against her skin. He licked at the warm water droplets on her skin and left heated kisses trailing to her ear. 

His girlfriend took a deep breath as he kissed her neck again, and again. Water flowed down their bodies in rivets. The scent of the mixed soaps on her body flooded his senses. 

His large hand moved up her ribs to run along her chest. She gasped when his fingers grazed her nipple. Zayne’s lips moved from her neck to her shoulder then back again while he teased her sensitive skin with his fingers. He rubbed, pinched lightly, and then squeezed her breast until she was practically panting. Water ran down between her cleavage, slipping past her navel and then lower to where Zayne wanted to go. 

“Z-Zayne.” She gasped as his hand swapped to the other side of her chest. 

His lips curled into a small smile as he kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “Yes?” 

“Mm… more.” She answered. 

“More?” He used both his hands to cup her breasts, teasing both nipples with his fingers. 

She moaned, her head pressing back into his shoulder. Despite all the water and soap, his girlfriend still smelled like herself. It was a deeply comforting scent to Zayne, something he could never truly put his finger on but was uniquely her. She always smelled like it, even after a scrub down in the shower.  

“More, uh,” She tries to correct. “Lower,” her backside presses against his obvious arousal. 

Zayne hums like he’s thinking about it, his fingers still busy with her chest. “Lower?” He asks, his sultry voice right in her ear. “On your stomach?” He teases. 

She nods eagerly. “Yes, and then… lower.” 

“Even lower than your stomach?” He feigns innocence, yet he complies. 

One hand slowly follows the water droplets that rush down her torso. He moves past her navel and dips lower and lower still. His fingers follow the valley of her body. She’s already slick, so his finger easily enters her with zero resistance. 

His movements are slow, exploratory almost, as he dips inside over and over. She parts her legs to give him easier access and Zayne adds a second finger. His lips press against her neck, his teeth tantalizingly scraping the skin. He loved the way his girlfriend easily unraveled for him. Even something as simple as a kiss made her eyes linger on him for just a moment too long, making him very aware of how much he affected her. She affects him too, even when she’s not there thoughts of her flood his mind day in and day out. 

He eases his finger out of her to give her clit unfettered attention. He circles and rubs until she moans for him. Zayne couldn’t help but press himself against her backside, to get some kind of friction as she made noises like that for him. 

“I have a fever,” She says, her hips rocking with the motion of his fingers. 

“Oh?” Zayne plays along. “Why do you say that?” He continues his ministrations.

She gasps, pressing her hips into his hand. “I’ve become so hot.” 

Zayne’s teeth trail along her neck until he whispers in her ear. “It seems I need to examine the patient for signs of overheating.”

She whimpers when his fingers enter her again, two of them rubbing just the right spot to make her legs quake. The water rushed down between them, keeping them both from drying off. Her hand came up, reaching for the back of his head to hold him to her neck. Zayne’s hair dripped onto her collarbone, his lips latching onto the sensitive skin below her ear. 

“Oh fu-... Zayne,” She moans his name so beautifully. 

He breathes heavily, his lips grazing her shoulder. “Nothing abnormal,” He says, his other hand still cupping her breast. “Maybe if I go deeper,” He adds in a sultry whisper. 

He presses his fingers deeper and his girlfriend's knees almost buckle. He keeps her upright squeezing his arms against her while he keeps up his ministrations. 

“Right there,” She rocks her hips in time with his fingers pumping motion. 

“Ah, yes. I see the problem here.” Zayne teases in a low voice.  His girlfriend whimpers as he removes his fingers. “You need something more, is that right?” 

She agrees, “Yes, yes! Something more,” She leans all her weight onto him. 

Zayne gently eases her forward. “Put your hands on the wall,” His voice is oh-so low in her ear. He likes how goosebumps rise on her skin when he does this, even when the heat of the water makes it sweltering. 

His girlfriend places her hands on the wall like he instructed. Zayne’s large hand engulfs her thigh, easing her leg up to rest on the ledge of the tub. His heart hammered away in his chest, his breath coming heavier than before. 

His girlfriend arches her back to give him better access. She peers over her shoulder and is met with a kiss from Zayne. He kisses her languidly, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance. He stands behind her, his body curling around her protectively while he enters slowly. 

She’s wet enough to accommodate him, so Zayne doesn’t stop until he’s all the way in, pushing and rocking until she takes all of him. 

His girlfriend inhales deeply. He's thick, so thick, inside her. When he starts thrusting, so slowly, rocking his whole body into hers, it makes her heart feel like it's falling. The adrenaline pumping through her veins makes her rock back eagerly into his hips. She tries to quicken the pace, but Zayne is determined to keep it achingly slow.   

He holds her with his strong arms, wrapping around her to keep her upright. She tosses her head back, her wet hair pressing against his shoulder. He knows good and well that if he keeps this slow, deep, pace, it’ll make his girlfriend come undone twice as fast. Then, after she’s already come once, he will go faster to make her come again. He remembers the first time they slept together, how many hours it took of them kissing and touching before he ever entered her. The slow exploratory movements made her rush to the finish line so much faster than the other times when he went as quickly as she begged him to go. He always kept this in mind. 

“Zayne,” She moaned his name and he almost lost his composure. 

He buried his face in her neck again, one hand sliding down to press against her clit as he fucks into her. He’s breathless, thrusting into her over and over while her walls flex against him. The water of the shower now flows behind them, pools then rushes past their feet to the drain. The steam from the hot water kept them from freezing. But then again, Zayne never minded the cold. 

She pants, open-mouthed, while her hands slide down the wall. Zayne keeps her steady, seeking that tell-tale sign she's close. Sweat easily pebbles on his brow due to the humid climate and his physical exertion. His lips seek the pulse point on her neck, littering gentle sucks along her neck and ear.

Her head tosses back, pressing into his firm shoulder. It detaches his lips from her and prevents his groans from being muffled. Their mixed sounds echoed off the bathroom tile, growing louder as their mixed pleasure grew to a fever pitch. Zayne pressed his cheek against her wet hair, the scent of her shampoo overwhelming him. He held on to her body with a firm grip while his hips rocked into her again and again.

Her skin was warm in his embrace. Droplets dripped down the bridge of his nose as he sped up his pace. His girlfriend’s hands clawed up the slick tile wall as she warned him, “So.. close. I’m close!”

He kept his quick pace, keeping the perfect angle that was making her tremble in his arms. His hand moved back between her legs, rubbing her clit in quick succession. He knew he found the perfect pace when she started freely moaning his name.

“I won't stop until you ask,” Zayne reassured her, his breathing heavy. Even if his stamina was starting to wane, he’d push his body's limits to make sure she got the climax he’d been working her so hard toward.

He kissed the side of her neck and pressed her clit harder. He couldn’t hold himself back much longer, his thrusting intensified, rocking her whole body. It was the perfect combination to send her over the edge. She arched her back, her hips rocking desperately to meet his. 

Zayne’s breathy moans grew louder as her pussy throbbed against his straining cock. Fuck, that was his favorite feeling. The way her walls tightened and pulsed against him. It was a dizzying sensation that filled him with a sense of accomplishment and pure lust. 

Too bad they were in the shower, Zayne wanted to push her forward and fuck her from behind while her back sloped sensually to the bed. Being confined to the shower at the moment, Zayne conceded to the situation and grabbed her hips. He pulled her into his thrust, the sounds of skin getting louder.

Once her pussy stopped fluttering, Zayne began seeking his own release. He held her tight, his biceps flexing as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had been holding himself off for so long, it was hard to relax and let his body find the release it craved.

His girlfriend, after having caught her breath, picked up on the fact that he was close. 

“Do you want to cum inside me?” She asked, her voice sultry. 

Zayne's stomach flipped at her words. “Yes,” He answers immediately. “Yes, Hh-” He moans into her ear. 

“I want you to…” She reached her hand back, dragging her nails through his wet locks. “I want you to cum inside me, Zayne. Please.”

Zayne groans, his thrusting becoming erratic. “I want,” He pants, “I want to-” he’s out of breath but his climax is imminent. “-to cum inside you.”

“I want it,” She moans, pressing her ass back against his thrusting. 

He curses, a rare occurrence for him, before his pleasure comes to a head. He closes his eyes, his hands gripping her body so tight while his cock throbs inside her. He’s still while his girlfriend rocks back into him prolonging his pleasure. Zayne holds his breath while waves of pleasure wash over him.

“Come on,” His girlfriend eggs him on. “That’s it.”

He finally takes a deep inhale as the most intense part of his orgasm subsides. It still feels so good inside her, though. He stays like this, his larger form curled around her in the hot shower while his cum seeps out and drips down her thighs.

He takes deep breaths while her fingers rub the back of his head. 

“I still owe you, technically.” He finally manages to speak. “I want to focus on just you.”

“Well,” She soothes him with her nails scratching gently over his scalp. “We have a nice long weekend to keep owing one another.”

[moongreenlight]

Said my piece about stalker!soap but how could I forget stalker ex boyfriend!ghost????????????!

Cw: Creepy crawler behavior. Stalking. Breaking in.

Maybe you should stop listening to true crime podcasts at work.

It feels entirely silly. You’re surely working yourself up over nothing, but some mornings you wake up and have to explain-away the way that your toothbrush is in the wrong spot or that there’s a lunch packed in the fridge that you can’t remember putting together yourself. There’s pictures on your phone that look like your dark bedroom that you’re pretty sure you didn’t take yourself. Maybe you accidentally took it on the way to bed? While you were getting up to use the bathroom?

You talk yourself blue in the face explaining it away well enough that you convince yourself your flat must be haunted. It seems almost logical? Better than any of the alternatives you can come up with if nothing else.

You live with the infrequent tweaks and changes to your surroundings. Lights on you shut off. Doors open you left closed. Your laptop charger going missing when you were certain you left it on the desk.

You almost go so far as to get a motion-activated light to plug into the outlet by your bedroom door, but you convince yourself against it after wandering the aisles of a drugstore with it in your cart long enough for an employee to start following you around. You toss it back on the wrong shelf and buy a packet of sweets you won’t eat in an attempt to not look like you were casing the joint.

But then it picks up. Gets more serious. Windows being opened while you sleep. Strange creaking of floorboards that are too loud to be the building settling. Your bed being made when you get back from an outing you had to rush out the door for. Massive men’s sweaters showing up in your in-unit dryer. The trash being emptied while you were at work. It gets so bad that you stop staying at home because it’s simply too creepy.

It’s the kind of fear that settles in the craggy parts of your brain. Seems silly if you think about it too hard the same way being scared of the dark in your closet after watching a horror movie does. Being scared of a potentially haunted apartment doesn’t really convey the severity of the situation when you try and talk about it with people.

You stay with friends. Couch surf as long as you can until you cannot possibly force people to take you in any longer. And when you’ve exhausted all other options, you find yourself texting Ghost for the first time in months.

Hey.

It’s hours before he responds. Not unusual. And instead of him texting back, you see a phone call block out the video you’re watching on your phone from a very well-lit spot in the living room. Also not unusual.

You pick up, but it takes you a few seconds to choke out words around the sudden lump in your throat.

“Forget how to answer the phone?”

He sounds irritated -again- not unusual.

It’s quiet where he is. Sounds like maybe he’s in a smaller space. His bedroom or his car? Though you couldn’t imagine him out at this hour of the night.

“Sorry. No. I- sorry.”

Shifting from his end. The static of fabric brushing past the microphone. A hefty sigh.

“Sorry.”

“You said.”

“Uh- I don’t really know how to ask you this, it’s- silly. I don’t know. Are you- um- busy?”

“S’half one in the morning.”

“It was a better time when I texted.”

It’s hard not to snark at him.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. I’m not busy.”

You’d love nothing more than to hang up on him, but you stayed up the entire two nights before because you couldn’t find anyone to come stay with you and you were getting desperate.

“Could you come over?”

[imraespace]

LIFE'S HARD WHEN YOU'RE INLOVE ─

─ WITH RIN ITOSHI !!

.

.

.

Coffee jelly? Already have it! Where are you heading right now? To your home! With Rin! About to watch a movie.. what kind? Horror! Sounds.. fun!

━ 4:30 PM

"Welcome home!- oh.." Reo greeted you, until his eyes landed on the tall figure besides you.

"He's over for our project." You stated, taking off your shoes as Rin idly stared at you from behind.

Seishiro walked up behind Reo, candy in his mouth from you. He stared at the boy, then at Reo.

"Do you want the living room?" Seishiro asked you.

Your face lit up at his surprising request.

"Really?" You asked.

He nodded. But..

"Only if we joined." Reo clarified.

Your face dropped. You stared at the boy for a bit, trying to figure out what's up with him. Maybe you should check that one group chat with the boy, you haven't opened it ever since you were placed in it, but there seems to be a bunch if activity happening there.

You sighed, and turned to Rin.

"Are you okay with being in my room again? Reo's being weird.." You muttered.

Rin stared at you, pondering on your words. He had no problems from the start with it, but just the thought of you thinking about him caused a weird feeling in his core. Your words replayed in his mind, Reo.. what's his problem?

"I don't mind it." He simply said.

"HEY? I'M RIGHT HERE?" Reo shouted, but you ignored.

You turned around and made your way towards your bedroom with Rin closely behind.

Reo was taken back, you.. IGNORED HIM? That's a first.. Actually it isn't.

He turned to the boy behind him, disbelief on his face. Yet Seishiro didn't seem to match his expression.

"Did you see that?" Reo asked the boy. He nodded, of course.

"CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?"

"Yes I can."

"You're on my side Seishiro."

"Oh."

Step step, slowly but surely, you both made it to your room. Your hand hovered over the knob, gently grabbing onto it and soon enough you both were greeted with the same room that started this.

You turned around to face the male behind you and found out that he had already beaten you to it, startling you a bit. Forgetting what just happened, you stepped aside, inviting him in.

.

.

.

"You can get comfy while I set up the movie.." You mumbled, taking off your bag and making your way to do as you said.

Rin stared at you for a bit, watching your every move, but he stopped himself, removed his bag, and made himself a space on your bed.

For some reason, Rin has a small feeling in his chest this time around inside your room. He stared at your bag for a bit, then started taking out the coffee jelly you bought, along with the candy given to you.

Your eyes caught onto his actions and then asked..

"Do you want more snacks?"

"Huh?" He let out.

You stared at the sweets on the bed and then continued.

"I'll get us more snacks, not candy.. and something to drink. I'll be right back. You can find the movie for us." And without another word, you left.

He stared at the door, surrounded by the silence. His eyes shifted to the screen in front of him. Find the movie for us.

His hand reached out for the remote on your bed, grabbed it, and did just that.

Soon, The Shining was displayed on the screen and a small smile was formed on his face.

.

.

.

"What are you doing down here?" Reo mumbled, staring at your hasted movements.

"I'm here for snacks." You answered, grabbing a bag of popcorn.

"That's the last bag!" He exclaimed, following behind you.

"Too bad.." You simply replied, placing it in the microwave. He sighed behind you, watching as you walked to get a bowl and two cups.

"Is it a date up there.." He muttered, but you heard, stopping in your tracks. His eyebrow raised at your sudden reaction then a smirk was formed.

"How WAS the date? Y'know, the one at the candy shop?" He suddenly asked.

Your head whipped in his direction, offering him a glare.

"It wasn't a date.. and don't stick your nose here." You spat out, catching him off guard.

"YOUNG LADY?"

Ping!

"Oh, it's done! I must go now, bye!" You exclaimed, taking the popcorn out and placing it into the bowl, and reached out for the cups, until a hand blocked you.

"You're rather bold here, inviting a boy over, and now attitude?" He muttered, STILL WITH THE SMIRK.

He's teasing you..

You glared at him, a small pout formed and instead, made your way toward the fridge and grabbed a few of your favorite drinks.

Reo caught on and grabbed the popcorn, that is.. until you stepped on his feet, taking it instead and making your escape.

You regret this already..

.

.

"I'm back.." You muttered walking up to the bed and dunked the snacks on it.

Your eyes made it onto the screen and saw that the movie was already on and waiting.

You turned back to the bed and climbed onto it, sitting next to RIn, but not too close. You let out a sigh, horrors aren't your thing, you never ever in your life sat through and watched a whole movie, but for Rin, you might as well.. If it's his favorite.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Mhm.."

The movie started, the dark room was then brightened and the silence was filled with sound. How will this movie go?

.

.

.

There was no talking between you both, sound only came from the movie. The more you watched the movie, the more you noticed that there weren't any jumpscares.. yet the psychological side played its part in scaring you.

You were scared that the darkness might eat you up.. Just look away from the screen..

Your eyes shifted from the screen and the bowl of popcorn you have yet to touch, too scared to stretch your hand out into the darkness.. What about Rin? You sneaked a peek at his face and gasped. He looked so entertained.

For the first time, you noticed a small sparkle in his eyes. You turned back to face the screen, watching the movie with a weak expression.

Rin reached out for the popcorn, breaking your focus from the movie and into the darkness of the room.

Being in the dark was actually your favorite, but why now is it so scary? Thoughts entered, what if there's something there? What if..

Knock!

The random knock caught you off guard, letting out a small scream, and shifted closely to Rin. It knocked Rin right out of the movie, focusing on the sound instead.

He stared at your frame, noticing how close you are now. He then eyed the snacks on the bed, it was barely touched by you.

"The sound was probably from your roommates." He clarified.

"Probably.." You muttered, still staring at the door.

Rin noticed and figured out the problem, you're scared. No shit.. dipshit..

He sighed, feeling a bit dumb for not noticing earlier. He took your blanket from behind and placed it over yours and his shoulders. It broke you out of your fright and faced him.

He grabbed some candy and placed it in your hand.

"The movie isn't real, no need to be scared.." He muttered. "You can stay closer if it makes you comfortable."

The racing heart in your chest slowed down a bit, did your crush openly invite you to stay close to him? Yes. But what was on your mind was him looking out for you.

You gently grabbed onto the blanket that was placed over your shoulder and pulled it closer to you, moving slightly towards the boy. Once he noticed that you were comfortable, he played the movie again.

Slowly, it became enjoyable. That psychological part that scared you became the main reason why.

Soon the movie came to an end.

"Wasn't that mean?" Seishiro asked the giggling boy.

"Yes.. but she deserved it." Reo choked out from his laughing fit.

As soon as he knocked on the door and the scream was heard he ran away in a fit. Silly him!

They made their way inside the living room after the dumb prank, they decided to laze around.

That is until after a large amount of minutes passed by, footsteps were heard behind the boy and a small tug on his bun brought him back to reality.

"It was you.. wasn't it?" You muttered.

He let out a huff and turned back around.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." He replied.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to Rin, who was making his way towards the front door with his belongings.

Slowly, you walked up behind him and followed him out of the door.

.

.

"I kinda liked that movie." You started.

"Really?" He asked out loud.

You nodded.

You leaned back on the door, a small smile on your face as you stared at the boy.

"What do you wanna do tomorrow?" You asked him.

He looked away, scratching his head in thought.

"I have practice tomorrow.. but if you want to, you can wait for me."

Ooh.. The smoothness of his voice and the simple words made your heart race just a bit. Will he notice the small blush on your face?

"I will wait, in our classroom."

"Okay well.. until tomorrow."

"Bye."

.

.

.

Back in your bed, you stared into the darkness, this time with music playing in the background.

Then, a notification caught you off guard. You stared at your phone and turned it on.

────────

rin - 7:30 P.M.

dont let the darkness take you

rin - 7:30 P.M.

i still need you after all

────────

"WHAT?"

.

.

.

As Rin turned off his phone, he rethought his messages, it was to cheer you up. The last one was a joke, signifying that he can't lose you since you're his project partner.

Wow Y/N, calm down!

DAY 3

-REST DAY

��� 6:00 AM

Currently, you're at your desk, in school. Doing what?

"Are you.. actually napping IN CLASS?!" Your loud friend blurted out..

You WERE napping.. not anymore.

You arrived at school earlier than usual so like a habit, you rested your head and entered the sleepland. Your original thought was to venture the school and maybe find some of your new friends from the team, but you thought that sleeping was better.

Now, you were glaring at your friend who only gives you a bright smile.

"Rise and shine!" He exclaimed, placing his bag on his desk then made his way onto your desk as his personal seat.

Yoichi on the other hand stayed in his seat, just turned around to witness his friends' interactions. You yawned, deciding to rise from your desk since you had no other choice unless you wanted to be crushed by Meguru..

"What did you do yesterday? Reo messaged in the group chat last night." Yoichi asked.

That reminded you..

"DID YOU GUYS REALLY HAVE A WHOLE INVESTIGATION IN A GROUP CHAT WITH ME IN IT?" You kinda.. yelled, surprising your classmates. "Oops.." You muttered.

They stared back at you, then each other.. then it clicked!

"OH THAT! Don't worry about that.. actually, pretend you didn't see it! You're all good!" Meguru said, patting your head with a bright smile.

Your eyebrow rose, glaring at him, and removed his hand.

"Yeah, whatever.. We all know I like him now, so we don't need to analyze my every move." You muttered, resting your head in his lap.

The duo stared at your head, then at each other.

"Sorry.. we won't do it, but you can come by us if you need help." Yoichi clarified for you with Meguru backing up his words with a nod.

You looked up at your friends with a small smile and returned his words with a small hum, closing your eyes and deciding to sleep away until it was class time.

━ 12:00 PM

Lunchtime! The students began to scatter, meeting up with friends or simply leaving the classroom to enjoy their lunch.

You stretched the laziness away, staring blankly into the distance, or rather Yoichi's head. He got up with Meguru and they said goodbye to you, leaving to meet up with their own friends. You turned into the direction of the football field, wondering if you should go converse with the others or stay inside.

"Are you going to have lunch up here?" A voice muttered. You turned around and saw Rin looming over you, causing your neck to crane a bit up.

You nodded at his words, with a bit of hesitation. He took Yoichi's chair and turned it around, seating himself across you.

He took out his lunch, placed it on your desk, and took out his phone along with his earphones. You stared at his every movement, wondering what he was trying to do.

He connected the earphones into his phone and placed one bud in his ear, giving you the other side along with his phone.

"If it's okay, play your favorite song.. since we have to learn more about each other.." He mumbled.

A small gasp left your throat. The last part of his words, it sounded like an excuse to cover up that he really wanted to learn more about you. You blinked away your sleepiness, taking the phone and bud from his hands with a slight graze of his own and did as he did, placing the bud in your ear and typed up your favorite song.

Sugar Boo by Serani Poji.

A small blush appeared on your face as the song started playing and you heard a small chuckle from Rin.

"What's so funny.." You muttered, digging for your lunch and a few sweets.

"I just find it a bit funny that your favorite song is about sweets, I think it suits you."

His words caused you to freeze mid-action, staring at his face as he quietly ate his meal and listened to the song. The blush didn't disappear, it became stronger.

He's trying to kill you here.. Is he really the same person that Yoichi and Meguru called scary? He doesn't seem so.

"..Can you play your favorite song? Please? Not because of the project.. I just want to hear it." You confessed.

He stopped chewing for a bit and looked at your figure as you ate your life away, hiding the flustered emotion you have right now.

"Sure, I don't mind."

Then Prayer X by King Gnu started playing.

.

.

.

"This song kinda suits you, not in a bad way."

"Thanks."

"Our favorite songs are really different.."

"It is.. just like us."

"Mhm.. Can I listen to it more often?" You asked him.

"Of course, I will do the same." He replied.

"Okay.."

.

.

.

"Y/N, YOU'RE HERE!" Meguru exclaimed, ignoring the tall male behind you.

Everyone turned their head in the direction and started swaming you. A small smile was formed as you greeted everyone.

Your eyes landed on a certain someone who stood out clear as day.

"HYOMA!" You exclaimed, not seeing your close friend in so long did something to your body and you ran up to him.

Hyoma on the other hand just had a small smile on his face, witnessing your incoming frame tackling him in a hug.

"What about us?" Otoya muttered.

You turned to face him and the others and gave them a group hug as well.

"Have you baked anything new?" Karasu asked, walking up to Otoya.

"Nuh uh, I have a project to focus on." You said. He nodded at your words.

"What's the project about?" Yukimiya asked.

You don't really talk to him, but you always greet each other in the hallways.

"I'm partnered up with someone and we have to learn about each other, or something so I forgot." You mumbled.

"And who's this lucky partner of yours?" Aryu gracefully asked.

You stared at the back and locked eyes with him for a bit, then turned back to face the others.

"It's a secret." You simply said.

"WHY?" Otoya asked

"Why not!"

"Unfair.. Lucky bastard.." He muttered.

Lucky indeed, Rin stared at his teammate and took in his reaction. For some reason, he wanted to open up and show off that the lucky bastard is right here.

.

.

.

━ 3:00 PM

School's over, students run out as if it's the last day on earth and for some reason, a friend of yours who joins that crowd is right here staring at you.

"Aren't you going home?" Meguru asked, causing Yoichi to face you both, bookbag already on his shoulder.

"I'm staying back for a while, don't you guys have practice? Go on.." You told your friends.

"Does Reo and Nagi know?" Yoichi asked.

You nodded.

"Okay, well see you tomorrow. Meguru let's go." Yoichi said, dragging Meguru with him.

Finally, you were left alone in the classroom. You thought of sleeping until Rin is finished with practice but you decided to roam the school a bit, maybe collect some treats on the way.

So with that thought, you got up from your seat and left the classroom to collect some treats.

.

.

.

On your way, with every moment you got, you stole a peek at the boys practicing and a thought came to mind, a silly one. Old habits never leave.

So with a trip back to your class and a small sneak to the benches, you left Rin an old gift.

.

.

‟ Remember to drink your water when you're practicing hard.

╶L/N. ฅ^._.^ฅ „

Rin stared at the note and looked around.

"When did she come down?" He asked himself yet smiled at your gesture.

"Are you coming Rin?" Yoichi asked the boy.

With silence as a response, the boy drank your gift and walked back into the field, Yoichi following behind.

Time was going by with haste and soon, practice would be over. For the first time in his life, Rin looked forward to when this practice session is over.

A few more rounds went by and..

"FINALLY, I wanna go home," Muguru exclaimed as he collected his items.

"Same.." Sei mumbled as Reo collected his items.

Everyone said goodbye as they left the field and the school, leaving Rin alone. He sighed as he got his items and decided to freshen up in the lockers then meet up with you. He rubbed his eyes, today was a long day and all he wanted to do was sleep right now but he fought it just for you.

.

.

.

The sound of the door took you out of your show on your phone and you looked at the boy who scanned the classroom for you.

"I'm here." You spoke up, causing him to look in the direction of his seat.

His footsteps sounded heavy as he made his way towards you, pulled a chair and sat, resting his head on the table.

Not a sound was left from him.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"Yeah.. I'm just sleepy that's all." He muttered.

You hummed at his words and stood up, causing him to look up at you. You took his bag from his shoulder and sat back down, resting it on your lap.

Your hands moved on their own as they made their way to the top of his head and gently guided him back onto the table.

"Then you can nap, I'll wake you up when it's time to go." You told him.

He stared at you for a bit, eyes widened then he relaxed a bit.

"Okay.. what about the project?" He asked.

"We can do it later. Please, sleep."

"I will." He softly said, closing his eyes as you gently stroked his head, lulling him further to sleep.

.

.

.

━ 7:00 PM

Here you are, staring at your ceiling, again. Until the sound of your phone went off. It was Rin.

────────

rin - 7:100 P.M.

can we talk? not related to the project btw I just wanna talk

────────

"WHAT?"

.

.

"CAN YOU SHUT UP?" Reo rudely shouted from the living room.

DAY 4

-RIN'S HOUSE

━ 5:00 PM

Sadly, you couldn't bring Rin over again because Reo has some of the team over and you kinda hid the fact about Rin to them.. So you asked to come over!

So here you are at his house, knocking on his door.

You stood there for a while waiting for an answer and were greeted with..

"You.." You muttered, sending daggers at the male in front of you.

"Why are you here?" Sae asked with a bored expression.

"School project, where's Rin?" You asked.

"He's not home as yet, come in I guess." He muttered, moving aside to invite you in.

You walked into the house and were greeted with a new scenery. You took everything in until Sae walked back in front of you.

"You can sit there if you want to," He said pointing at the couch, "Or do whatever you want." He said, walking away.

Is he leaving you alone? No way! It's scary to be here alone what if his parents came and saw you? No way Jose!

Without noticing, you silently followed him into an unknown room. He stopped and turned around to face you.

"Why are you in my room?" He asked, staring at you.

"Is that Rin?" You pointed it out in the corner of his room.

His eyes followed your finger and found what you were talking about. It was a picture of their old football team.

"Yes, it is." He said as you walked up to it, admiring younger Rin.

Then an evil thought popped into Sae's mind.

"I have his baby pictures, wanna see them?"

"YOU DO?!"

.

.

.

When Rin finally made it back home he found you seated at the dinner table with an odd book.

"You're here already? How long?" He asked you.

You turned around and faced him with an excited smile.

"I've been here for quite some time." You said with a smile. Rin's eyes landed on the boy next to you who stared right back at him with a smirk, silently telling him that you were here alone with him.

Rin's eyes then landed on the book and it clicked.

"What are you doing with this?!" He asked, snatching it out of your hand and glared at you both.

With laughter, you stood up and reached out for the book.

"Cmon! You looked so cute!"

"Don't care, did Sae do anything to you?" He asked you.

"Huh?" You thought out loud, glancing at the brother.

"No.. why?" You asked,

"No reason.."

Sae just smirked at the current conversation and then left, leaving you both alone.

Rin sighed and placed the book back on the table then faced you.

"Did you bring the items?" He asked you.

"I did, with me, creating this poster would be easy!" You exclaimed.

"That's good, I'm not that great in that field." Rin mumbled as he guided you into his room.

.

.

His room was simple, with barely any posters up, completely different from yours.. well maybe the one or two posters related to horror movies were up and his football shirt but that's all.

You sat on his bad and placed everything out on the bed.

"Are you doing it on the bed?" He asked.

"Of course not.." You muttered.

After taking everything out, you sat on the floor, with the bristol board and began sketching.

Rin sat behind you, watching your every movement closely, analyzing the work of art.

If he got any closer to you, he could almost rest his chin on your head. It's like he wanted to.. It's like he did just that.. And he had the audacity to ask you such a question..

"Why did you stop?"

The pencil in your hand stayed still as your breathing quickened. Your mind went blank as soon as his scent reached your nose and his chin rested on the crown of your head. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

Why did you stop? Such a dumb question..

You heard him huff a bit, did he get impatient?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand getting closer to the pencil, closer to your hand, and rested it on top of yours, guiding your new stroke.

In the end, the poster draft was created with teamwork and silence.

.

.

.

"Are you going?" He asked you.

You nodded at his words and then looked up at him.

"I'll finish the poster tonight and tomorrow you can come over to see it, since it's our last day."

He nodded at your words, staring down at you.

This time, you tip-toed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He bent a bit, causing your feet to rest back flat on the floor, and wrapped his arms around your body, swallowing you whole with his large arms, gently squeezing your frame.

For some reason, a new environment caused a spark to happen. Was it the thought of you being alone with Sae that pushed him? Or the fact that you're in his room? It could be both. But right now, that boldness caused something positive between you both.

## LIFE'S HARD WHEN YOU'RE INLOVE. --

╴“ WITH RIN ITOSHI?? „

ฅ^._.^ฅ : some things about y/n !! she mostly sleeps through the day, only does stuff IF needed !! with her given gift of being effortlessly smart , all she does in her free time is : nap , eat , sleep. hmm what if.. one day y/n develops a crush and now has to ACTUALLY work to achieve a goal ? : date rin itoshi !!

19 // 20

note: woah.. an update!

TAGLIST: @deezy12299 @kuroronana @khoiyyu @swagkittybear @shidousprincess @starbarfbunni @jealovsie @imtiredmf @hainge @catorkitty (OPEN)

-`♥︎´- for this story, i'm trying something new, which includes words/phrases, foods and hometowns from japan and germany. if there's any errors please point it out !

-`♥︎´- word count : 6.5k

[juniperdugong]

Confess - Satoru Gojo

WC: 840 || Genre: Fluff || Gojo x GN!reader (established relationship)

"SATORU GOJO!" Your scream reverberates across all walls and furniture like a gong to Toru's ears as you enter your shared bedroom.

"Uh oh..." He's digging himself into the sheets as fast as he can, the sound of your footsteps feeling like a literal horror movie, he nearly suffocates himself by wrapping the blanket over his head.

"Yeah. Uh oh." You loom over the cacoon he's created for himself. You can feel him shiver as you gently tap at his protection. A slight giggle from you and suddenly the blanket inflates like a balloon. "Satoru... you did not." the annoyance in your voice is evident.

"Don't know what you're talking about lovebug." You can practically hear the jittery nervous smile he's faking for himself under all this mess.

"Yeah? So you didn't just put your infinity up so I can't reach you?"

"Would never dream of doing that in your presence..."

You rip the sheets off and sure enough your hand faces an invisible wall. "Wouldn't dream of it, right?" Sarcasm drips from your words as you meet his face, a completely fake expression of happiness and innocence adorning him like a mask.

You flop yourself over the barrier like a sea lion, allowing yourself to drape over the nothingness and everything separating the two of you. To anyone else's eyes, this looks like a magic trick and you would be impressed too if this little charade weren't getting on your nerves. Your face droops into a pout as you wiggle yourself to stay on top. Toru's breath hits your cheek and you can just barely see how he mimics your pout in response.

You let out an exaggerated and heavy sigh knowing which strings to pull, "Don't do this to me, baby!" His pout turns sad and his voice gets whiny.

"I'm not the one doing anything." Each of your words is punctuated with a poke to, what would be his body, but instead is infinite space. You turn so you're at an angle where he can't see the smirk on your face, consider his strings pulled at this point!

Another heavy sigh is all that it takes before you feel yourself drop and your body thud heavily onto the man beneath you with a pained groan. You quickly try and move your body but your efforts are thwarted as Satoru squeezes you with all of his limps. Wiggling does nothing as he just gets tighter with every sudden move. Eventually, you have to concede because the heat of the friction you're causing is making you sweat and you go limp atop him.

"Gojo Satoru." Your voice is muffled as your face is smothered in Toru's chest.

"Oh, not the full name baby!"

You finagle your head so you can look up at him, your expression obviously upset and angry. "Confess your crimes."

"Crimes? What crimes? I don't see any crimes here sweetness." He looks around the room pretending to be oblivious but you're just too cute with your little pout, how can he resist such charms?

Like a man confessing to god he tilts his head back and towards the sky, putting on a fake look of sadness he lets out a sigh, "I, Gojo Satoru, confess to the crime of..." he pauses.

"Of?" You look at him expectantly.

"...Of eating all of y/n's snacks while they were away on a business trip." He bites his bottom lip looking down at you with puppy dog eyes.

"And?"

"And... for not replacing said snacks before they got home."

"And." You grit your teeth as you say the word.

"And... for waiting till they noticed and got all showered and comfortable after such a long and strenuous trip to mention anything..." His entire body suffocates you, squeezing you impossibly tighter as he finishes his confession, "Please don't hit me when I let go, honey..."

"Hmph" you gruff in response, you make no such promises in this situation.

He slowly releases you from his grip and tenses bracing for impact. Not feeling the weight of your palm against his face he opens an eye curiously.

*THWACK*

He's thrusted backward as you slap him hard in the chest, the surprise elicits multiple fake coughs from Satoru - you know he can take much more than a few of your measly punches but violence from you was always gonna do more damage to his heart than any curse could.

"cough cough ...you promised" he squeaks.

"I didn't actually. You're the one who promised not to touch my snacks... so???" Satisfied you leave him in his state of disarray, traipsing out of the room.

He lets his head hit the pillow, eyes following you in amusement as you walk away. He chuckles to himself completely amazed at your conviction and head over heals even for your little tantrums.

He knows you'll forgive him once he finishes placing all the orders for everything that he ate... maybe you'll even forgive him enough to let him have some if he asks nicely...

Nah, probably not.

A/N: A little something something for the jjk side of things... I definitely did not write this while completely exhausted at 4am... hope y'all enjoy though! First Satoru fic! Not proofread if you couldn't tell lol

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Suitor Suit Vignette

"I love..."

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Crowley: Dearie me… Today was indeed an ordeal.

Crowley: It seems the ghosts have all disappeared, leaving our cafeteria still decorated for a wedding ceremony.

Crowley: How dare they take no responsibility for what happened.

Crowley: We won't be able to open for meals tomorrow if it stays like this.

Crowley: So, young freshmen. I'll leave it to you to clear up this "wedding venue" before heading back to your dormitories, then.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ehhhh～～～!?

Ace: When you say freshmen… That doesn't include me 'n Epel in all our tuxedo glory, right?

Crowley: No, I mean all freshmen. I pride myself as an educator who treats all my students the same!

Epel: Oh, come on…

Ace: Give us a break, already. I did so much today, I'm wiped out.

Crowley: I will admit that you played an integral part in today's procession… But that is that, and this is this.

Crowley: I do hope you lively youngsters will be quick about it!

Grim: Hey, Yuu. Stop spacing out! We're makin' a run for it before the Headmage notices us.

Crowley: Ah, of course, that includes [Yuu]-kun and Grim-kun, too.

Grim: Myaaaah!!

Epel: Urgh. I've thrown away so many of these ribbon off the walls, and there's still more to go.

Grim: Whenever I try pullin' the lace off, it keeps getting' caught on my claws!

Ace: This chair's real sturdy. Where'd they even find… Wait, it's a tombstone! [shudders]

1. We're not anywhere close to getting finished. 2. I wanna go home already.

Ortho: Hey everyone, I'm here to help too, so let's put our all into it!

Ace: …Arrrgh, come on! I did so much to help out, too!

Ace: How much trouble do ghosts gotta put us through before they're satisfied, anyway?

Ace: 500 years? Crazy they've been obsessing over something like "love" for that long.

Ace: I'm pretty pissed at those ghost soldiers, sure… But I don't understand what that princess was thinking at all.

Ace: I'd've had a lot less trouble if she'd just given up on the whole marriage thing and lived a happy afterlife instead…

Epel: …

Epel: Ace-kun… Has there ever been someone you liked?

Ace: Huh!? Why're you asking me that all of a sudden?

Epel: Just thought it was strange… You saying she was "obsessive" or that you "don't understand" her.

Epel: 'Cause you kinda give off this vibe that you'd know a bit more about relationships.

Ace: What, you saying I'm a playboy or something?

Epel: N-No, I'm not saying that.

Grim: You shouldn't tease Ace like that, askin' about his love life. No way he'd have any idea about that sorta stuff.

Grim: There's no way a jerk like him would ever have any luck.

Ace: Hey, can you try not being jealous of me for one sec?

Ace: Back in middle school, even I had a girlfriend I'd take to amusement parks or movie theaters or whatever.

Grim: Wh-What!? You're soundin' pretty cocky for someone like you, Ace!

Ortho: Amusement parks and movies, hm. My manual says that regardless of the generation, those are pretty popular date spots!

Epel: Nice… all this talkin' about datin' and such's makin' me feel like we're really at our peak high school guy talk stage!

Epel: So? What happened?

Ace: Well…

Ace: You know girls, they're so scared of roller coasters, so all we'd ride was the merry-go-round or the ferris wheel.

Ace: She'd say everything was "Cute!" and take a ton of Magicam pictures, but I didn't really see what was so exciting about those rides.

Ace: Plus, whenever we went to see a movie, she never wanted to watch action or horror movies, just romance and cute animal movies…

Ace: It was just borin' with her, so we just slowly stopped messaging each other.

Epel: Oh, I see. Doesn't that seem a little…disappointing?

Ace: Yeah, but the worst was still to come. After I started slowly distancing myself, whaddya think happened next?

Ace: …One day, this group of girls I'd never met in my life started shouting at me…

Ace: "Why didn't you ever call her?" "How could you!" "She's been crying non-stop!" "You brute!"

Ace: …And they went on and on scolding me! What's with that, some kind of solidarity between girls or whatever?

Ace: That's when I realized. Love is just a pain to deal with!

Ace: I have way more fun just hangin' with the guys.

Grim: Man, you're just a kid, after all.

Ace: Don't wanna hear that from you, of all people.

Ace: …But, anyway!

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

Deuce: Hey, Ace. What have you guys been chatting away about over there?

Jack: Urgh… It's already past midnight and I don't think I can stay awake any longer. Let's hurry and finish cleaning up already.

Ace: You guys are tryin' to act all cool, but who was it that was just rolling around on the floor all day today?

Ace: Look at 'em, Grim. You should be saying that these dunderheads who couldn't even succeed in their mission are more like kids.

Grim: Hm, I guess…?

Grim: Deuce did look pretty lame when he froze up tryin' to talk to that bride.

Ace: Riiiight～?! I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe at all.

Deuce: Wha… I couldn't help it! I'm not used to talking to girls.

Deuce: I clam up when I start thinking that I might say something stupid and callous…

Ace: Your middle school was co-ed, wasn't it? Weren't you popular enough?

Ace: I always thought that guys with that "tough guy" image always had girls falling at their feet.

Deuce: Falling at my feet?

Deuce: …Nah, no one ever talked to me.

Deuce: Every girl other than my mom ―or rather, every guy, too― would run away the moment we made eye contact.

Ace: Ah, I see… So you were just so scary no one wanted to come close…

Ace: Jack got rejected pretty quick too, so I guess guys who just look scary from the get-go just can't get girls, huh.

Jack: That's all useless talk. I don't really care if people like me.

Ace: Oho? What, you a sore loser or something?

Jack: No. Wolf beastmen like myself are destined to find the one person to care about forever.

Jack: Both my parents and my grandparents are the same… From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep, they're always together. Even when taking a walk or having meals.

Jack: When the time comes that I fall in love, I plan on being with them for the rest of my life.

Jack: That's why I don't care if a bunch of folks like me.

Ace: Th... That's waaaaay too deep!

Ace: Dude, you're still a student, and you're talking about "the rest of my life"… You're taking this "love" stuff way too seriously!

Deuce: Also, can you really think about marriage before you've even got a career plan set up?

Grim: What a pain! I definitely don't wanna ever date Jack.

Jack: Well, I'm not asking you to!

Ace: Then, I guess it's more guys like Epel that'd get the most attention.

Ace: Instead of being scary looking, he's a pretty boy with potential!

Epel: Eh, m-me!?

Ace: Well, you were askin' about others, so you should cough up a story too. Was there anyone back home you had a crush on?

Epel: Uh…

Ace: Come on～ Don't keep it a secret～ We're tux buddies, ain't we?

Deuce: That's a rude way to drag him in. Why're you so hung up on hearing about other people's love lives?

Jack: I bet he's hoping that other people'll do his share of the clean up while he keeps the conversation going.

Deuce: Makes sense. That's a pretty Ace-like move.

Ace: You guys are totally interested in hearing too!

Jack/Deuce: Well…

Ace: You ever get confessed to? Was there someone you liked? Or even dated someone!?

Epel: …

Jack/Deuce/Ace: …!

Epel: …Hate to break it to you guys when you're all looking at me so intently…

Epel: But there's not many people in my hometown. And even then, most of the people there either way older or way younger than me.

Epel: I never really got to spend time with people my age once I came here to Night Raven College…

Epel: All I did was help out on my family's farm… So I don't really have any exciting story…

Ace: Dang, so you don't have any fun stories too, huh.

Epel: Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations.

Ortho: If I were to compare against prior data gathered of boys of similar age, it seems like everyone here is drastically lacking when it comes to living your youthful years.

Ace: Shut it!

Sebek: Hey! Humans! You've all stalled in your work.

Sebek: IF YOU'VE GOT TIME TO CHIT-CHAT, STACK THE CHAIRS!

Ace: Here he comes, the guy who's got the worst chance among us.

Jack: Yeah, I was pretty disappointed too.

Sebek: Hmph. All of you are just going back and forth about falling in love and whatnot.

Sebek: We are students. If you have time for that sort of ridiculous leisure, you should focus on your studies instead!

Grim: Don't be talkin' down to us! You were one of the first to get rejected!

Sebek: I was not rejected! I rejected her!

Sebek: I am busy training every single day to be a capable guard for Malleus-sama. I have no time for frivolities like "love."

Ace: You say that, but what if someone that was really your type shows up one day?

Ace: You plannin' on droning on and on about Malleus-senpai to that person, too?

Sebek: I fully know what to do. Lilia-sama has explained to me what I should do if I were to meet my soulmate.

Sebek: …FIRST I WOULD CRAFT FOR THEM A WELL-THOUGHT OUT CORRESPONDENCE!

Ace: Correspondence!!?? You mean, write a letter!?

Ace: That's like something our grandparents would do!

Deuce: It'd be better if you sent a message on Magicam or email instead.

Sebek: Why is that? Lilia-sama would say that "Fountain pens and stationary are a lover's weapon."

Sebek: One should lay out their thoughts in the missive, and every third letter, also include a picture with a smile. This should continue until the 25th full moon of the courtship.

Sebek: Once enough correspondence has been exchanged…

Sebek: We are to sit on a bench together in Briar Valley Central Park, leaving enough space for one between us!

Epel: Yeah, you're definitely being led on…

Sebek: WHAT!!?? HOW DARE A LOWLY HUMAN DOUBT LILIA-SAMA LIKE SO!!??

Ace: Yeah, yeah. Pipe down already. It'll go on and on if we don't nip it in the bud here, so let's call it quits here!

Ace: [sigh]… But maybe Sebek has a bit of a point.

Jack: What, you gonna write some letters too?

Ace: Oh yeah, yeah, I'd totally whip out the white stationary and write in cursive "I love"… Not!!

Ace: Even for this, me and Epel needed Riddle-ryōchō and Rook-senpai's help, right?

Epel: …Yeah. If we didn't have those two, I don't think we would've been able to get as far as we did.

Ace: You know, it came to me when I saw my Housewarden taking on all those ghosts.

Ace: "My Housewarden's pretty cool."

Ace: I wanna get better at using magic, man.

Ace: I can't even compare against my Housewarden or other upperclassmen right now, but...

Ace: But someday, I'll totally show off what all I can do, and be all, "Check me out now!"

Ace: I totally get a jolt through my body imagining the shock on their faces when I finally show my awesome skills, see?

Ace: And in order to get to that point… I guess I need to focus up a bit more in my studies before thinking anything about love.

Epel: …Yeah. You're right. I think so too!

Sebek: Hmph. See, you do get it.

Deuce: Yeah, we need to hunker down with our studies.

Jack: When Deuce with all his failing marks says that, it just feels even more important to think about.

Sebek/Epel/Ace: Yeah.

Deuce: Why are you all in step when it comes to things like this!?

Ace: …Putting that all aside, we just really got carried away in conversation, huh. We ain't nowhere near done putting the cafeteria back in order!

Ace: Not only did we have to deal with all those ghosts, but now we gotta be held after to do more work…

Ace: We're so lame. Nothing good came out of today at all.

Ortho: That's not true!

Ace: Eh?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ortho: I was watching the video with the Headmage when you barged into the wedding ceremony, and…

Ortho: It felt like I was watching a movie, seeing you burst in with your flower bouquet, shouting out "Wait a sec!"

Ortho: You were so passionately coming to my brother's rescue…

Ortho: It was suuuuuuuuuuuper cool!

Ace: Huh? I wasn't passionate anything.

Ace: That was because I had just finished running away from the ghosts… or more like I got caught up in the flow.

Ortho: Nah. I saw just how serious you looked when you rushed into the room.

Ortho: You totally meant every word you said to the bride and her retainers, didn't you?

Grim: There ain't no way Ace'd say anything that genuine.

Grim: All he did was just ramble on about stuff without putting in any thought, I bet.

Ace: Y-Yeah, yeah! You got it right on the money, Grim.

Ortho: Judging from what I gleaned from my infrared sensor, with his elevated body temperature, voice pitch and pupil dilation…

Ortho: All the preceding data brings us to the conclusion that Ace was being genuine.

Ortho: …There's no need for you to hide it. You're really shy, huh!

Deuce: Which means…

Sebek: All he said to the ghost bride about the "perfect marriage partner"…

Jack: Was Ace's actual genuine thoughts!?

Ortho: Yup. There's no doubt.

Ortho: It's wonderful that you have a real good image of your ideal partner.

Ace: Hah!? No way! Absolutely no way!

Ace: I just said whatever I thought the ghosts would swallow!

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ohooo～～??

Grim: Protesting too much, don'tcha think?

Ortho: Even the Headmage said, "I'm growing fonder of Trappola-kun by the second!"

Ortho: Based on prior literature, statistically speaking, if you were to confess to someone with the same passion as you did today…

Ortho: You're sure to have no trouble getting someone to fall in love with you!

Ace: There ain't no passion. That wasn't a confession!

Ace: …And all you stop your stupid grinning!

Epel: Wow, I didn't realize how much you put into it…

Epel: I wish I could've seen you looking so cool, Ace-kun.

Ortho: Leave it to me! I still have the recording. I'll send you the video later.

Ace: STOP WITH THE RECORDING!

Deuce: Oh, nice thinking. We should all watch it later once we're done clearing everything away. You guys good with doing it at Ramshackle?

Jack: Running a play-by-play could be fun. I'm feeling more awake now.

Sebek: I shall give my own evaluation of it as well!

Sebek: You said I was the guy today with the worst chance among all of us. I'll make sure to thoroughly lambast you as penance.

Ace: DON'T BE TRYING TO MAKE INTO A VIEWING PARTY!

1. No need to be shy. 2. We just want to pay tribute to your gallant speech.

Ortho: Yeah～!

Ortho: That's why you, Ace Trappola-san, who already has thought of what his ideal partner would be…

Ortho: Is the best suited suitor of all!

Ace: …Aaaaah, come on! I've already told you… I wasn't serious at all!

Grim: Woah. Ace's turned completely red even to the tips of his ears!

Deuce: Haha, you're right. This isn't something we get to ever see.

Jack: Hey, Ortho. Make sure you capture this moment too.

Grim: You too, [Yuu], snap a shot on the ghost camera!

Ace: Why's everyone gotta mess with me like this…?

Ace: Just drop it already, guys～～!

Requested by Anonymous.

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, stalking, use of the name "sweetheart", kidnapping/abduction, drugging, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Things are heating up in Part 2! Every choice comes with a price in this world where nothing is as it seems. Hold on tight—it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

Read Part 1 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 2: Shadows Behind the Bar

Behind the bar, where the warmth of laughter and clinking glasses faded into the chill of the early night, a darker reality unfolded in the shadows of the alley. The air was thick with the pungent smell of refuse and the faint echo of distant sirens, but in the gloom, one figure stood still, eyes glinting with an unsettling obsession — Devon, The Stalker.

He was a ghost who had drifted through the bar, blending seamlessly into the fabric of its unremarkable patrons. To everyone else, he was just another face among many, a nondescript customer nursing a drink in the corner. But beneath that facade lay a dangerous predator, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Tonight, the stars had aligned for him, and he would not let this chance slip through his fingers.

As you stepped out the back door, ready to embrace the cool night air and the familiar comfort of home, you were blissfully unaware of the looming danger. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed behind you, but before you could take a breath, a figure lunged from the shadows, emerging from behind the dumpster like a nightmare manifesting in the dim light.

“Hey! I just wanted to talk...” Devon sneered, his voice a cruel mockery of civility as he seized your wrist with a grip that felt like iron. Panic ignited within you, a primal instinct screaming that this was not a conversation — this was a confrontation.

You recoiled, adrenaline flooding your veins as you struggled to free yourself from his sudden grasp. The alley felt suddenly smaller, closing in around you like the jaws of a trap. His eyes, wild and fixated, gleamed with a twisted excitement that sent a chill down your spine. You could see the cracks in his facade, the desperate edge of someone who had crossed the line from infatuation to obsession. This was not the polite flirtation of a regular; this was a man unhinged, driven by motives you couldn't begin to comprehend.

“Let go of me!” you shouted, your voice cracking against the damp night air, but he only tightened his grip, a cruel smile stretching across his face. You had no idea how long he had been watching you, lurking in the shadows, biding his time. Fear clutched your throat, the realization dawning that you were no longer in control of your fate.

Before you could react, he shoved you roughly against the cold metal of the dumpster, the air knocked from your lungs. The world blurred around you, and in that terrifying moment, the fight or flight instinct kicked in. You were supposed to be safe, supposed to be heading home — but the nightmare had begun.

With a swift motion, he dragged you towards a waiting van parked a few yards down the alley. Your heart raced as you struggled, your feet scrambling against the pavement, but it was futile. He was stronger, fueled by a twisted desire that eclipsed any sense of morality. Desperation clawed at your chest as you shouted for help, but the alley was deserted, the bar behind you oblivious to the horror unfolding just out of sight.

In one swift movement, he flung open the side door of the van and shoved you inside, the metallic clang reverberating in the confined space. You stumbled, and as you fell, a blindfold was yanked over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The scent of stale air mixed with something harsh and chemical, making it hard to breathe.

“Welcome to my world, sweetheart,” he hissed, his voice dripping with menace as he secured your wrists with something rough and unyielding. Panic swelled inside you, drowning out all rational thought. Your mind raced, grappling with the reality that you were being taken far away from everything that felt safe and familiar.

The van jolted as he climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut with a finality that echoed like a death knell. The engine roared to life, and as the vehicle lurched forward, a suffocating silence fell. In that moment, you were stripped of your identity, of the life you knew. You were no longer just a bartender serving drinks; you were a prisoner, thrust into a shadowy existence that promised only fear and uncertainty.

Every bump and turn was a reminder of how quickly everything could change. You fought against the bonds that held you, but the more you struggled, the tighter they felt, each movement a futile attempt to escape a fate that was already sealed. The sound of the tires on the pavement became a twisted lullaby, lulling you into a surreal haze of confusion and dread.

In that darkness, your mind raced with thoughts of what might come next. The faces of your regular patrons that you’d come to look for on your shifts flickered through your memory, more so the faces of those enigmatic men of 141 Mafia. Their laughter and camaraderie is a stark contrast to your current reality. They had been somewhat of your unspoken guardians, even if you hadn’t fully understood their world. Standing up for you if someone was a little too grabby when you served their drinks or walking you to your car if they happened to stay until closing time–which was almost a constant. You couldn’t help but hope and pray that someone–anyone–would see that you were gone. Someone would know…someone would come for you…right?

With your heart pounding in your ears, you clung to that fragile hope. But hope was a thin thread, and in the depths of your captor’s world, shadows loomed large, threatening to swallow you whole.

Read Part 3

Thanks for sticking with me as the plot thickens. We’re only getting started, and there’s a lot more to uncover. Stay tuned for Part 3—this game is far from over!

[hiiroamagisbestfriend]

welcome back!!! this might be sudden but how about rainy day hcs with the 3a trio? individual or maybe as a poly 👀👀

Rainy Day Headcanons!

w/ Chiaki Morisawa, Izumi Sena, & Kaoru Hakaze x GN! Reader

omg... my first request after coming back... thank you... i'll do them individually and then as a poly teehee

Warnings: Nothing in particular!

✩ First of all, if you two had plans to go out or any sort of outdoors-y activity and it started raining really hard? He'd be so bummed out about it.

✩ Of course, any time he spends with you is a good time, but he's an active boy at heart!

✩ On the bright side, he has his fair share of nerdy hobbies too. And he absolutely has no qualms with cozying up with you on the sofa or bed and watching some movies. Maybe even a tokusatsu marathon, if you share that interest with him.

✩ I feel like he'd spoil you for real. He'd cover you with blankets and pillows, and then reassures you that he can handle all the necessary prep for making a good, romantic time.

"You just stay put! This hero will make sure to blow away all your rainy day woes!" Chiaki stood in front of you with that eager look in his eyes, making sure to put on a pose that makes him look really cool.

✩ After that, he'd scurry off to the kitchen. Probably to prepare your favorite snacks or drinks for you to enjoy. The level of his success varies, but what matters is he tried his best, right?

✩ Once he's done, he'd squeeze into the blankets with you, and if you weren't warm earlier, you definitely are now. Maybe it's suffocatingly hot, even.

✩ But there's really no way you can tell him to leave. He looks so happy being by your side. His smile is as bright and sunny as ever, but he's looking at you with such mirth that you can already see his heartbreak if you asked him for some space.

✩ Chiaki would lean into you, arm reaching around to your shoulder to pull you in even closer. Then he'd put on whatever it was you two agreed to watch, and then he'd be really engrossed!

✩ Unless you suggested that you watch horror. That's a whole different story, now is it?

✩ Izumi would probably not be as lucky to be indoors with you when it started raining. Maybe you two were walking home or worse. On the way to your actual date.

✩ If it starts to pour, he'd definitely let his annoyance be known. Clicking his tongue, quickening his pace, grabbing at you a bit harder. All the good stuff. Maybe he'd even throw in a "So annoying!"

✩ Maybe he'd even tell you off, blaming you for planning a date without checking the forecast. But you know he isn't saying it out of malice.

✩ If the rain gets really hard though, all those platitudes fall through. If you're underdressed, he'd wordlessly hand you his jacket, and would probably get all flustered if you bring it up.

"Huh? It's because you're such a dumbass. It was already bad enough you invited me out during a damn storm, but you even had the gall to not bring a jacket." Despite his harsh words, Izumi still brought you inside the nearest establishment within his line of sight to hide from the rain.

"Don't even think about saying 'thank you'. If you're really grateful, then make sure there isn't a next time."

✩ He'd fuss over you though. Patting your hair dry, making sure your clothes aren't too wet. Stuff like that. Maybe letting you get sick is the best way for you to learn your lesson, but as fun as taking care of you would be, even he isn't that heartless.

✩ Once things have settled down, he'd probably want to hightail it back to his place. Or yours, depending on which one's closer.

Izumi practically dragged you back to the apartment, immediately ushering you towards the bathroom. "Go take a hot shower, or something." He would demand, but with the way he seems to be preparing clothes for you to wear after? He doesn't seem too upset.

You thank him for being considerate, but he just rolls his eyes. "Haah? I'm just making sure you do the stuff you're supposed to do after getting rained on. But... I guess it isn't so bad to hear you say that."

✩ Just don't tell him his face has been a bit flushed since earlier. He probably wouldn't be able to handle that.

✩ Rain is romantic! Though he wouldn't happily jump into a storm, Kaoru would be more than grateful for the vibes that a nice, rainy day brings.

✩ Its a bit sad that he can't take you out on a date like this, but that's okay! Because there are things that he can do even while indoors.

✩ Like playing his guitar. He wouldn't bring it up willingly because he's still a bit unsure of his skills, but if you asked him to? Heck, if you personally requested for him to play a song?

"I'm not that good yet, though?" Kaoru would try to play it off, shaking his head as he held his hands up. "If you really want some music, I can just play some on my phone?"

But you would stubbornly decline, reassuring him that what you wanted to hear was him playing guitar. That statement made him blush, just a little bit.

"I can't really say no if you're the one asking..."

✩ If it's a song he already knows, he'd proudly play it for you. Just like he said, he isn't the best at it yet, but he's playing it for you, so it would never sound bad.

✩ Alternatively, it could be a completely new song for him. Not that it would deter him. He would search up the arrangement online, putting all his focus into learning it at this very moment.

As the strumming of the guitar mixed with the rain outside, Kaoru can't help but feel like you're staring at him really intently. Its good that you're paying attention to him, but... he wants to focus on nailing this song for you!

It feels like his entire body is heating up, even down to the tips of his fingers, making it even harder for him to focus. He can't let up though, he won't!

"Ahaha. Did you enjoy that? The payment for that private performance will be one kiss~" Kaoru wanted to bury himself in a hole. He doesn't really like acting like a playboy when it's just the two of you. It makes him feel insincere. But he's nervous! So he can't help but fall into old habits.

✩ His worries are unfounded. Since he does get his payment, as requested.

✩ Having not one, not two, but three whole boyfriends to spoil you on a rainy day? Maybe you really did die and go to heaven at this point.

✩ In terms of how outward they are with their affection, it would probably be Chiaki, Kaoru, and then Izumi. But don't get things wrong, they all love you (and each other) a whole lot.

✩ Relationships with this many people could be seen as a chore, but seeing as you're all basically best friends with one another, things go smoothly for the most part.

"Group hug!" Chiaki would pull all three of his partners in for the aforementioned hug, squeezing them tightly and earning mixed reactions of surprise and ire.

Nobody complains though, since it really is the perfect weather for a cuddle like this. Maybe it's a bit cramped, but kicking someone out would be the last thing on anyone's mind.

✩ If, by chance, you were afraid of heavy rain and thunder, they would do their best to try and reassure you. In their own, silly ways.

✩ Since everyone in this little group has their own varied interests, I think you would all go and enjoy it in a rotation. Just to make sure everyone was having fun and didn't feel left out in any way.

✩ A lot of hugs and kisses, probably. One of them would try to do it sneakily (funny how I could see any of the 3 doing that), but that sort of one-on-one is unfair! So now it's a group thing. It always has to be!

✩ Then you'd all probably fall asleep in a bed that's way too small for four people. Squeezing just to fit in. But it's warm. And there really isn't anything better.

i feel like i'm still getting back into the groove of things so sorry if its a bit wonky...

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

so i saw this geminitay fanart by @aresonist today and might have gotten a little inspired to write a fic about it. especially because we have another life series premiering today and i'm very excited about it. so have some silly little gempearl nightmare angst (and op i hope you don't mind me using your art as inspiration!)

The sculk is hungry, and it comes with death.

Gem has never seen so much corruption in one place. It spreads as far as her eye can see until it trails off into darkness and inky black skies. Six games’ worth of loss is contained here. Three lives lost for every player, over and over. Death after death, kill after kill.

Some of the destruction is hers. She doesn’t want to know how much.

She blinks, breathes, and takes a step forward. Worldwalkers know how to navigate dreams, and Gem is no exception. She has endless control over the world inside her mind. She can make maps of every construction and wake herself up from the worst nightmares. It would take a true horror to keep her captive. Still, though, her dreamscapes are usually complicated. This is just… sculk. So much sculk. Gem can’t help but feel a sense of morbid curiosity about it.

Another step, then another. Nothing changes.

“Hello?” Gem calls. “Anybody home?”

There’s no response. It occurs to Gem that yelling in a field of sculk is a surefire way to summon a warden. She claps a hand over her mouth to silence herself, then slowly removes it. If something does try to kill her, she can just wake up. No harm done, right? Just a little insomnia. “Hello? What’s going on here?”

Silence. Complete silence.

“I know something’s hiding! You can just come out and get me, you know. I’m not scared of you!”

Come to think of it, there’s not a single sculk shrieker in the field at all. There’s not even a sensor. It’s all just empty space. Remnants of death with nothing to show for it.

Is this how winners feel?

Gem shakes her head to clear the thought. Worldwalkers know dreams better than anyone. This must be some weird half-memory from exploring Caves and Cliffs for the first time. Or maybe some unresolved panic from the escape world between Hermitcraft Seasons 8 and 9. That was pretty empty, right? She was wrong about the whole six-games’-worth-of-death thing at the beginning. This has nothing to do with the Life Series. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the next game is set to start tomorrow.

Gem blinks. She breathes. She takes another step.

“This is fine. I’m fine. I’m so fine. It’s just a dream. I know how to deal with this. I’m completely–”

There’s a sudden tug on her left foot. She looks down to find it completely buried in sculk.

“Do you see that button right there?” she giggles to Scar. “Can you press it?”

Gem feels her breath catch in her lungs for a moment. “Nope. Absolutely not.” She wrenches her foot upwards, just barely managing to pull it free. “Not funny.”

Another step, then another, then–

“No!” Bdubs yells from below her, with zombies closing in. “It’s over for me…”

Her foot is buried deeper now. Try as she might, she can’t move it anymore. “Hey, no, stop it,” she admonishes the corruption. “Let go.”

“How did Pearl blow up? Wait, did–”

Gem grabs her boot with both hands and pulls. The sculk refuses to give. “Let go of me,” she snaps louder. Why does her voice sound so anxious? She isn’t afraid. This is her dreamscape, after all. “That one wasn’t meant to happen.”

“Somebody rigged that for us,” she grins, elbowing Scar. “Thank goodness, though. That worked out so well.”

Her right foot is trapped now, too. There’s no way her dreamself is getting out of this one. “Okay, okay, I get it. The infection was deadly. I know what I did. You can stop now.”

“Wow, maybe it actually is an apocalypse!”

“Yeah, that’s enough of that.” Gem envisions a sunrise-orange light in front of her. It spreads, brightening across her whole field of vision. This is the easiest trick in the book for her – she’s done it practically since birth, before any of the memory tricks or lucid dreaming, even before her full powers awakened. “I’m getting out of here.”

She swings her sword almost lazily, and it slashes across Joel’s chest. He’s weakened from the zombie attacks – he’s dead before he hits the ground.

The light flickers out in a puff of smoke.

“What?” Gem’s heart slams against her ribs. She desperately kicks and twists her feet within their sculk prison, but all it does is bury her deeper. “No. That’s not supposed to happen. That never happens.”

Only the most awful of nightmares can keep a worldwalker asleep. Gem isn’t being chased or stalked. Nothing is trying to kill her. It’s just her and her memories in a field of sculk. It’s fine. It’s fine. Waking up should be effortless. She can’t be trapped.

“Scar just murdered me!”

Gem makes one more desperate attempt at tearing her feet free. The force knocks her off balance, and she falls backwards to the ground. Sculk crawls across her body instantly.

“No.” Gem struggles against the dreamscape, but it only grows stronger. “No, stop! Let go of me! It was just a game! It’s over now! Let go!”

“I don’t want to kill her! Pearl, I don’t want to kill you!”

She tries to summon another sunrise light, but it fizzles out in front of her. Both her arms are pinned down. It won’t be long until she’s buried completely. “Stop! Let me go!”

“No, Gem, stop it!” Pearl shrieks. Blood drips from the cuts along her arms. She’s down to two hearts, then half a heart, and then…

Gem kicks and struggles against the sculk. Nothing she does is any use. She can’t move. She can hardly breathe. All the death she’s caused is coming back to eat her alive, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t escape it.

“Gem,” a familiar voice murmurs from somewhere outside the dreamscape. “Are you alright?”

“Let go!” Gem claws at the corruption, pleading with her subconscious in a last-ditch attempt at escape. She can’t be here. I killed her. I killed her so many times. Her death is written into half this stuff. I did this. It’s my fault. I can’t bring her here.

A soft touch grabs gently at her arms and tugs at her body. “Gem, stop. You’re thrashing around. It’s alright. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“No, stop!” Gem screams, struggling harder against her restraints. “It’s not okay! We can’t go back!”

“Come on, Scar,” Pearl sobs, trying not to look at the dying form of her partner. Gem is putting up the best fight she can, but void, it’s all too much. Pearl is watching her die. All Gem wants is to go back to safety, where she can curl up in Pearl’s arms and smile and say it’s all fine. She needs it to be over, but she can’t let it end. She can’t let it end, because ending means dying, and it hurts, it all hurts so badly, and Pearl is still screaming. “Come on, Scar, you’ve got this! You can do this!”

Sculk crawls across Gem’s face and creeps up to cover her mouth. She knows it’s her own death coming back to kill her again. She’s running out of time.

“Gem.” Kind hands dig through the sculk, gently beginning to pry her free. “Shh. It’s alright. You’re having a nightmare.”

Gem sobs, still kicking and struggling. She can barely breathe.

“Hey. Hey, shh, it’s alright.” As the familiar voice surrounds Gem, the sculk’s hold on her begins to loosen. “Stop struggling. You don’t need to fight. Fighting won’t end this. You’re having a nightmare.” One arm slips free, then the other. “Today’s a scary day. I know. It always is. Take a deep breath, alright? I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it doesn’t look good. You’re having a nightmare. It isn’t real. I promise.” She squeezes Gem’s hand. “I’m right here. Try to wake up with me.”

Gem spits the bitter sculk out of her mouth and forces herself to address the voice, the one who’s trying to save her, the one who’s always been there. The voice of her partner.

Pearl’s voice.

“Pearl, stop,” Gem murmurs. “It’s not right.” Her energy to fight fades until she falls still, lying back against the corrupted ground. “I can’t…” Her chest hurts. “Don’t save me. It’s not right. This is right. I… I killed…”

Pearl can’t hide a soft gasp – Gem’s first sign that her words are breaking through to the waking world. She brushes her hand across Gem’s forehead. “Never.” Her hands slip under Gem’s shoulders, moving effortlessly through the bonds holding her partner down. “That game is over. We’re here together now. We’re starting fresh. Tomorrow will be tough, but it’ll be alright.” Pearl is still there. She isn’t recoiling in horror. She isn’t afraid. “I’m right here. We’re both still here. Try to wake up.”

Trust blossoms in Gem’s chest alongside a small sunrise light. The nightmare is letting go. She might get out after all. “Don’t let go of me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Pearl gives Gem the softest, kindest forehead kiss she’s ever felt. It’s a tether to the waking world, a single anchor point. Pearl is her anchor. Pearl is strong. Pearl has won before, has lived this endless field of death, and she’s come out the other side to help others through it. Despite all the carnage, Pearl isn’t leaving. She and Gem will face the next nightmare together.

As the sunrise light spreads across her vision, Gem uses the last of her strength to reach up and wrap her arms around Pearl’s shoulders. With a gentle hug, Pearl pulls her free of the trap.

Gem opens her eyes and looks around at the soft lantern light of Pearl’s bedroom. Pearl is still holding her close. “See? I knew the sleepover was a good idea. Start days are hard. We’ve all dealt with it.”

“Scary,” Gem murmurs softly. “So much sculk. It wouldn’t let go…”

“But it did,” Pearl whispers back, combing her fingers through Gem’s hair. “You’re here now.”

“I’m here now,” Gem repeats, like she’s trying to believe it. “It’s okay.”

“And it’s going to stay that way.” Pearl kisses Gem again. “We’re only halfway through the night, okay? We can still get some sleep.” She lies back down and holds out an inviting arm to Gem. “We will take on tomorrow together.”

Gem curls up against Pearl and closes her eyes. “Thank you.”

Pearl smiles as she wraps her arm around Gem. “For what?”

“For not letting me lose myself.”

Gem’s dreamscape is eerie and quiet for the rest of the night, but every so often, the ambient hum of Pearl’s base breaks though to calm her. Secret Life is over. Every death game ends. Pearl is still there, and so is Gem.

There’s always a way out.

[muffinsin]

The last request was amazing, read it like three times, thanks for taking my request. I got a reaction request

Can you do on how would the sisters react to their female s/o finding a cat and being more affectionate towards the cat? Like the sisters aren’t getting attention, especially at night; their partner sleeps with her back facing them. Oh and the cat doesn’t like the sisters.

-Rambunctious anon

Why was this scene the first that came into my mind lmao?-

Let’s get into this XD

Masterlist

Bela

She isn’t exactly thrilled when you bring a cat home

An animal? In the castle?

She knows her mother wouldn’t be pleased either

But it makes you happy, and so she allowed the cat to stay

Watched you name and coddle and love it, feed it, cuddle it, bathe it

Sleeping cuddled up with that cat.

Bela at first tries to ignore the feelings inside of her. It was ridiculous to get jealous of an animal, wasn’t it?

She is the eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu!

She is strong!

She is smart!

Oh, and she is also incredibly jealous

She has been known to be petty, but surprises herself when one day she knocks the cat’s blanket to the floor just before bed

In horror, she watches the animal lay on her blanket instead. And you let it!

She feels hurt after a while. How is this animal more important to you than her?

She doesn’t want to make you choose, afraid of your choice

Instead, she works nearly all night to avoid having to cuddle her pillow instead of you

When you notice this, she eventually tells you of her feelings. She demands the damned animal sleeps on the floor. And she demands attention and love back

She will still be a little pissed for a few days, but eventually calm back down. Her and the cat aren’t getting friends anytime soon, and she resists the urge to cook it each day

Cassandra

She hates the cat.

And she has from the moment you got it.

Cassandra is very primal in ways. She wants you to smell of her at all times, and in return smell of you

Now, all you smell of is the damned animal, with its hair covering your clothing

She is pissed when the animal is shown attention by you

She has brought up the thought of cooking it. You assumed she was joking when she said it

Cassandra is absolutely the type to shoot nasty glances at the animal. She swears she gets ones back

And then, the filthy thing sleeps in her bed!

She will absolutely make you choose between her and the cat if boundaries aren’t set. She has no shame to admit she dislikes the animal and wants it gone, or at least away from her personal space

Cassandra doesn’t mind animals per say, she just hates this one, and the attention taken from her and put into the cat

It doesn’t help that the cat hates her too

The likeliest scenario is Daniela adopting the cat, really-

Daniela

She’s THRILLED at the idea of owning a pet!

She at first wrong assumed the cat is her lunch, then realizes it’s your new pet and puts down the sickle

Still, no matter what she tries, the cat dislikes her. You figure it’s because of Daniela’s biology, being a predator. The animal probably picks up on that

At first Daniela doesn’t mind

Then, she feels a sting in her chest every time you won’t play with her because you’re busy with that cat

And when you can’t cuddle her anymore without cat hair getting all over her. She hates that!

And then, you won’t cuddle her at night anymore?!

Daniela is quite likely the most dangerous of the sisters due to her sudden bursts of mania. Her love for you and her sisters are the only things holding her back from gutting the animal

She starts to avoid you instead. She’s hurt, and angry

She opts for sleeping in Bela’s room, or even Cassandra’s, and grows angrier whenever she sees you with the animal

When the two of you finally have a conversation about it, she tells you about her feelings. It’s clear things must change

[djarinsbeskar]

HERE, THERE BE MONSTERS: THE MINOTAUR PART 3

A/N: Me? Updating within a week? Surely we're in the wrong timeline, but believe it! This update is indeed a canon event, as is our poor nymph's first encounter with the brutality of the Minotaur. Once again, special thanks to @astroboots for the beta and cosntant hype! Artwork by machiavellicro on deviantart!

Pairing: Minotaur!Din Djarin x Nymph!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ NO Minors)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: gross misuse of mythology, gore, horror, suggestive themes. Reminder that this is a MONSTER FUCKING fic, so be warned for future chapters.

NOTICE: If you want to keep updated on when I post fic turn on notifications for @djarinsbeskar-writes c:

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Day 4

Something was out there.

Maybe you were naïve to assume the size of the labyrinth would ensure you wouldn’t cross paths with the monster who made his home here, and for several days, you didn’t. 

A gust of wind made you whimper and curl into the pocket of space between raised, gnarled roots of the tree you’d taken shelter in. Burying your face in your knees to wait out the gale, you berated yourself for the nth time for thinking the forest would be a better bet than the maze.

It was so, so much worse.

At least in the maze, there was only four directions, and it was easier to tell when things changed. In the forest, it was next to impossible.

Half the time, you suspected you were the one being altered, not the labyrinth. As though, by some divine power, the wind was sweeping you off to a different part of the prison to disorient you anew. But nothing was crueller than the moments the wind changed nothing.

You knew you should be grateful in those moments, but it had the opposite effect.

It plagued your mind with paranoia, leaving you doubtful of the route you planned to take, your vision tunnelled on trying to find every little difference with frantic eyes and a pounding heart.

Was that tree always there?

Had the next left turn always been that far away? Was it even left? Maybe it was right…

Does the ground feel more uphill than before?

It was hell, and a few days within its snare made you feel aged beyond your cosmic eternity.

But that wasn’t the worst of it… because like all prisons, there was always a gatekeeper.

Something was out there…

Instinct had sent you hiding as you scavenged for fallen walnuts and bramble berries to fill your empty stomach. Like one of Artemis’ deer, your head had snapped up when a sudden hush fell over the land. An unnatural disquiet that was imperceptible at first until you looked up at the organic awning of leaves and branches, none of which were making a sound as they rustled against each other.

A warning breeze disturbed the litter of leaves around you silently, causing goosebumps to erupt with molten adrenaline all over your body.

You hid in the first place you could find, slight enough to fit into such a cramped space entirely, the only perk to a disadvantageous physique that was continuously punished by the unrelenting environment.

Cold water drenched your spine now, locking your bones in place and refused to let you move even as your muscles complained from how small you made yourself huddled between the roots.

And then… whispering.

Humans?

“I’m tellin’ ya,” the voices were faint, far away but still too loud in the oppressive silence, “this dust is comin’ from somewhere.”

In the air, a heavy oppressive presence poisoned the air. Your eyes widened, trepidation coating your tongue in fluff.

Whatever was out there, whatever you sensed, was not them. Your stomach sank at the realization; they were doomed. Walking passengers of Charon… their sacrificial coins blinding them to the death they were walking into.

How did they not feel the atmosphere shift? The potency of malice thickening to a point it felt like even the blood in your veins was congealing, so tight you just knew the tension would have to burst eventually. But too skittish to give your position away lest you suffer another humiliating encounter as you had in the village, you were forced to wait them out and listen.

“We need food, not dust.” The other human grizzled. 

Dread draped over you as your eyes dropped to your muddied feet where your toes curled into the dirt. A faint glimmer of stardust surrounded where you sat and doubtlessly littered anywhere you spent any prolonged amount of time in.

“Are ya kiddin’?” The footsteps stopped, your heartbeat following. “Look at how this shit glows. It could help us navigate this hellhole.  Outside’a havin’ the strength and sword to kill the beast, tha’s the most valuable thing we could have in this place.”

Oh, merciful gods… you lamented, burying your face in your hands.

Your fear and anxiety were so heightened here that, unbeknownst to yourself, a fissure had formed that allowed your essence to escape. Your astral soul was instinctively reacting to the burden of stress placed on your physical body and expelling stardust tracks in a bid to guide you home.

But here, in this netherworld, even it didn’t know what direction to lead you and ended up falling in a flurry of cosmic snow that did the opposite of help. Indeed, it led everyone in the labyrinth to you.

If those people found you…

If he found you.

The thought surfaced just as you realize the voices had halted.

They finally noticed, the atmosphere a tightly drawn back bow and their hurried steps the trigger to finally release it. Suddenly, the vacuum of silence was dispelled, the rustle in the canopy a battle cry of nature and the thick foliage a shield of leaves that continued to separate you from the light of the stars.

The hairs on your arms stood on ends, a drag of fingers up the back of your neck that resulted in a violent shiver when you glanced behind you, paranoid. You inhaled shallowly; lungs suddenly starved of oxygen as though you’d been holding your breath since you first hid.

Maybe the land wasn’t the only thing affected by whatever caused that silence to fall.

And then, as if to prove its iniquitous presence, the silence was finally filled with a dreadful sound.

Crunch… crunch… crunch…

Your stomach dropped into a pool of freezing water, blood pounding in your ears as your heart hammered wildly. The weight behind those footsteps… it wasn’t human. It wasn’t divine. Not even Hephaestus with his mighty hammer and full belly carried the power of this new presence. Every footstep sank into the detritus littered forest floor, telling you in no uncertain terms that whatever was out there… was huge.

Monster…

A tumult of noises, animals fleeing as they were possessed by their instincts, resonated through the air.

Crunch… crunch… sniff… crunch… crunch… crunch… sniff.

Tears welled in your eyes.

You knew, on an instinctive level, what was up there. The very thing that gods and mortals alike spoke about in whispers, a warning tale to scare naughty children into obedience lest they find themselves where you were now.

The Minotaur.

Fear like you’d never known before – not when you’d first been thrown into the labyrinth or even when you were dragged before the Queen of Gods herself – overcame your senses as it consumed you. It eradicated your identity in an icy riptide of terror, dragging you under until only your fear floated and became your entire existence.

A horned silhouette stretched across the treetops in front of you, a shadow among shadows. Darker than the blackest hole and just as hungry to destroy anything that came close to it.

He was close…

You covered your mouth to silence the sob that sought to escape you, unable to blink as you witnessed the shadow of the bull-headed monster hunting you grow as he moved.

He turned his head, a wide muzzle exaggerated in his profile and distorted by the disorderly wall of trees that created a mismatched canvas for his shadow. You watched the silhouette lift his head towards the sky, intentional, measured… followed by another series of sniff sniff sniff.

You didn’t even realize the tears were falling before they pooled in the crevice where your hands were folded over your mouth, tracking down your cheeks in a constant stream as a bugle blared in your mind, resisting the existence of such a nightmarish creature even as you saw his shadow with your waking eyes.

Closer he walked, crunch crunch crunch, his shadow growing from the bovine head to the body of a man—strong, broad shoulders large enough to carry those horns and the defined curve of his muscles evident even through the flatness of his silhouette.

You were trapped.

Bark dug into your back as you pressed as far back into the roots as you could, silent and wishing you possessed the wood nymphs’ ability to sink into the trees themselves for protection. But your salvation was out of reach, far above the trees and cloud cover that the twinkling light of stars couldn’t pierce.

A bellow—bullish and remarkably, with tones of a human voice undercutting it, echoed throughout the forest. The wind carried it farther than it ought to have travelled, in service to him and reminding all who dwelled within this prison, just who the jailor was.

Did he know?

You tucked your knees and feet tighter against your body, eyeing the treacherous trail of stardust in front of you. He only needed to catch sight of the gleam and it would lead him directly to where you hid, cornered against the roots.

You could risk it and run. Either into the maze or up one of the trees, but you had little faith in your speed given your only experience with running was in pleasure. In coy chases through the trees that ended with you sprawled in some meadow with your hunter’s cock buried inside you, claiming the prize you presented.

That train of thought led you somewhere taboo in your mind, somewhere sinful… somewhere you shouldn’t linger as the image of a bovine beastman doing just that flashed across your mind.  

You shied away from it, confused by the sudden rush of adrenaline that banished the cold on your skin. There was a harsh exhale above you, he smelled something.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself harshly. This wasn’t some flirty chase of your own design… where your pursuer even seeing you, let alone catching you was at your will. This was different.

Here, with him… you would be running for your life. And if he ran you down…

What prize did a Minotaur want? Was it the spilling of blood like legend would tell? Was it something more carnal… like all those of flesh and bone desired?

No.

The only other option you had was to remain still and pray he moved on, so you never had to find out. Every step closer he took to the precipice of the roots you were under, however, diminished that hope and when you could practically smell the musk on his skin and fur, hear his exhales, and see the billowing clouds of condensation from his breath, you tried to make peace with the fact that you’d been caught.

But it was not to be your end.

Another bellow proved to be your salvation as the noise broke the courage of the other poor souls hiding close by, those who had followed your stardust and who you initially thought long gone.

Your heart seized at the sound of them scrambling out of hiding and running, their ragged breaths overshadowed by a ferocious snarl as the Minotaur’s shadow whirled around. Instinct overtook him, or luck was on your side, his heavy footfalls charging – too fast – after their fleeing forms and away from you.

There was no relief though, not when the sudden scream some distance away warned of you meeting the same fate if you didn’t move now. The screams were cut off as suddenly as the drop at the hangman’s gallows, that same cruel wind carrying the wet gurgle of flooded windpipes to you.

It chased you as you pulled yourself out of your hiding spot, fleeing the carnage and praying you could put enough distance between you and the carnage. At least until the wind picked up again and dropped you somewhere else in this maze of madness.   

For surely you were going mad… because no matter how fast and far you ran, there could be no other reason that anything other than fear or revulsion should fill you at the thought of that murderous brute.

You hoped you were going mad… to justify the inkling of attraction that continued to simmer low in your navel hours later.

[holdmymallowsweet]

Inside

For Gaunting Salloween day 19: Parasite.

Words: 1,723, also on AO3

Warnings: body horror, nausea, suicidal thoughts, minor character death, implied cannibalism, implied underage sex (it’s really barely there but I didn’t want to upset anyone by not mentioning it)

...I just felt like writing something really disturbing and fucked up, please mind the warnings.

Ominis would always say, the next time he’d go to Gaunt Manor it would spell the end of him.

“Don’t go then,” Sebastian told him, as he always did. “Just stay with me.”

“It’s my father’s birthday dinner, they want the whole family there. You know I have no choice.”

“‘Course you do. Tell them they can shove it.” 

“I’m not seventeen yet, they can still pull me out of school.” Ominis leaned down, kissed Sebastian’s knuckles to make the anger melt away.

“Take me with you then.”

“I think that might make it worse.”

“Fine.” Sebastian took his hand away, stood up long enough to almost break Ominis heart a little, before he cradled him in his arms. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“Of course I will.”

He’d told himself not to eat or drink anything, not to fall asleep or be caught alone in a room, to nod when he was spoken to and clap politely along with everyone else as the birthday toasts were made.

To leave as soon as propriety allowed.

But he couldn’t find a good enough reason to refuse the glass of wine that was pushed on him, that made him drowsy and not realise he’d started to eat until the fork was in his mouth for the third time. 

And he was betrayed by his eyes, the useless, stupid things, falling shut as he rested on a chaise in the parlour after dinner.

If only he’d taken Sebastian with him, after all. 

He came to with a jolt of panic, in silence, until he heard his brother's voice from behind him. 

“I suppose it’s good to know you still feel comfortable in your own home.”

Ominis didn’t. Not ever, as far as he could remember. And he’d long stopped thinking of this place as his home, home was where Sebastian was.

“Why not stay overnight, now that it’s come to this? You do so rarely grace us with your presence.”

“I’m expected back at school tonight,” Ominis said impassively, through the sudden lump in his throat.

“Well,” His brother answered, striding past him close enough to make him shudder in revulsion. “You better hurry along then.”

As Ominis left, he felt it moving for the first time. Just the tiniest little thing, sitting in his throat like the soreness after one screamed too much.

Ominis kept his promise. The problem was, he didn’t come back alone.

The tiny thing had started to grow, since then. 

Ominis could feel it, writhing inside him, stretching out underneath his spine, filling his throat.

He didn’t know what it was, or how it had gotten inside of him, only that it was there. That it felt wrong.

And that it wouldn’t leave on its own.

It became hard to force food down, there was no space, it rejected it. When he managed, he threw it up minutes, on good days hours later. 

And it became harder to hide. 

Sebastian was the first to notice something was wrong. Of course he was. 

“Ominis, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Don’t lie to me, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen you eat.”

“I do eat,” Ominis lied. 

“When?” 

“At mealtimes in the Great Hall, like everyone else.”

“No, you don’t. I see you, pushing food around on your plate until you find some excuse to leave. I’m not stupid.”

“It’s just stress.”

“...Stress,” Sebastian echoed.

“Over exams.”

“Exams are months away.”

“I know,” Ominis said desperately. It stretched again, made him feel sick. “I know. Perhaps I’m coming down with something. It’ll pass.”

So he managed to hide it for another few weeks.

Sometimes it seemed to sleep. Those were the better days, the ones where he could almost pretend nothing was wrong, where he could hold Sebastian’s hand and laugh at his jokes wholeheartedly, instead of pretending. 

As time went on, it seemed to need less and less sleep.

He knew, instinctively, that there was nothing to be done. The thing inside him grew day by day, chipping away at his essence, his mind, until there’d be nothing left of him.

One day it would seamlessly fill out his skin.

But he would hold on, as long as he could, would try his best to make another few good memories before it was over, and he wouldn’t let Sebastian find out. 

Never. 

He’d witnessed how Anne’s curse had almost destroyed him, how far Sebastian was willing to go to save someone he loved, and Ominis wouldn’t be the one to lead him down this path again.

Because of course he’d go just as far for Ominis, of course he loved him. That thought was what made him want to try, to live, but it was also what made him break down and sob uncontrollably behind the greenhouses, when it all became too much. Sob and heave, because the thing made it hard for him to draw deep breaths.

But the day came when Ominis wanted to stop trying.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong,” Sebastian said, taking Ominis’ hand. For comfort. Or perhaps to stop him from running away.

Ominis gave him a feeble smile. “What makes you think something would be wrong?”

Sebastian stepped closer, holding onto him as Ominis tried to flinch away.

“You’re not yourself lately. We hardly talk at all anymore, and when we do, you’re not all there. And you look horrible. Nothing but sunken cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, almost like Anne, before she-” 

Ominis’ heart broke then.

“You feel different. You even taste different.”

“I- taste ? You mean when we-”

“When we kiss. We haven’t done anything else for months now, and I didn’t want to say anything, because I thought maybe you just…” Sebastian sounded close to tears.

Ominis wanted to tell him. With every fibre of his being, he wanted to scream, wanted to beg Sebastian to pry open his jaw and rip it out of him.

He’d already opened his mouth when he felt it stretch, more than ever before. It wouldn’t let the words come out, it pressed up against his brain and made his ears ring.

“It’s nothing,” Ominis heard himself say, dully through the fog in his mind. “I’m stressed about exams, that’s all.” 

And just as quickly, it contracted again, shrinking to its normal size.

Hiding it from Sebastian was no longer his choice.

Sometimes he wished he could open his mouth and look in the mirror, to see if it would stare back at him.

The worst part of it was the pain.

Ominis was no stranger to pain. Even after years, the memories of the Cruciatus curse were etched into his mind, but this was something else entirely. 

It always came suddenly, usually at night, starting just slow enough to let him cast a silencing charm so his screams wouldn’t wake Sebastian. Then it would feel like he was being eaten from the inside out, like it was suddenly made of thousands of tiny spikes and thorns and teeth, ripping him apart.

Growing pains.

Somehow he knew, even if he were to go to the Hospital Wing, they wouldn’t find anything. It knew how to hide. They’d only hurt him, say it was his family’s insanity finally catching up to him, and he’d lose Sebastian.

But there were moments where the remnants of his common sense flickered to life, and he realised those thoughts weren’t his own, that he should try harder to tell someone- but then just as suddenly, the moment was over.

It was getting harder to hold on.

One night, he found himself at the top of the astronomy tower.

It would be quick. It would be over. He was well past the age where accidental magic would save him.

Sebastian would be devastated, but he’d lose Ominis anyway.

The thing inside him would die with him, though, and it wanted to live.

There was no holding on anymore. There were no more happy memories to be made. Most days now, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

But he remembered where it had started, and at last, he made the choice to go back.

And just like when it had started, he found his brother in the Manor’s parlour again.

“We need to talk.”

Ominis heard hissing. For the first time in his life, he didn’t understand it.

Silence.

“Did my little toy break your brain?” His brother asked, in mock concern.

“You did this to me.”

“I sure did.”

“Why?” Ominis asked desperately. “Does father know?”

“No, and I don’t think he’d be too happy if he found out, so I won’t tell him.”

His brother’s steps came closer, and Ominis fought the urge to step back in turn.

“And neither will you.”

Ominis wasn’t sure how he knew his brother had drawn his wand, or that his life was in danger.

The thing did. And it refused to let him die.

There was a scream, then silence. Then the overwhelming stench of blood. Ominis lowered his wand, shaking, drawing laboured breaths. He didn’t even know what spell he’d used.

He should have left then. Instead, he took a step forward, then another, until he heard and felt the squelching when he reached his brother’s corpse. Slowly, he bent down, and dragged his fingers through the puddle of blood.

Then Ominis smiled.

When he left, his stomach was full for the first time in weeks. The thing had finally found something it wanted to eat.

“Damn it, Ominis, where have you been?”

Ominis crossed the room, wordlessly. He didn’t need his wand, hadn’t needed it on the journey back. It knew where it wanted to go.

Sebastian felt nice when he hugged him. So warm. 

“I missed you,” Ominis said, and squeezed a bit tighter. “I want you.” Finally, he didn’t have to lie anymore.

Sebastian hesitantly hugged him back, careful, as if afraid he’d break something. “Merlin, I thought you’d gone off me.”

“Rubbish, as if I’d ever.”

Time stopped as they held each other, until Sebastian softly started to speak again. “So… how do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

“Really? That’s great,” Sebastian sighed.

It was. And as Ominis nuzzled his face in Sebastian’s neck, savouring the warmth and the way his own breath fanned out between them, he thought he’d never smelled anything so delicious.

[goosewriting]

Okay, I'm a sucker for these ones, but how about...

Y/N from our world falling into the ROTTMNT world?

Would Y/N explain that they come from a world where the boys are from a TV show, or just keep that one secret for their whole life?

If the boys find out, how would they react?

How would Splinter react?

I can imagine Y/N walking up to their turtle of choice and just breaking down crying, hugging him(especially after seeing the movie) and telling him he didn't deserve that pain.

Falling for you (rottmnt Leo x reader)

summary: reader falls into the rottmnt world and comes across the turtle brothers.

relationship: Rise Leo x GN reader

warnings: kinda meta i guess, this one’s kinda sad u_u sorry 

word count: 2k 

A/N: this fic has been marinating in my wips for almost a year. better later than never amirite? o(-< sorry for the delay! also i couldn’t for the life of me figure out the other turtles, but i liked it enough to post as is. I might come back to this one at some point! this trope is S+ tier btw, thank you so much for the request!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

There was nothing you were looking forward to more than getting home, taking a nice shower, and collapsing in your bed. This week had been way too hectic for your taste. Recounting all the events in your mind with a slight scoff, you walked down the dim street. Only a couple more blocks and you’d finally be home. If you had the energy, you might even treat yourself to rewatching the Rise of the TMNT movie. You’d definitely laugh and cry just the same as when you first watched it. It was just too good.

You were so lost in thought, that the sudden strong gust of wind took you by surprise. Holding onto your jacket and backpack for dear life, you stumbled over your own feet, knocked over by the sheer force of the draft. With nothing near you to lean onto or take a hold of, you stepped onto the manhole in front of you, which to your horror completely gave in to your weight. With a shriek you fell down the hole, but instead of being engulfed in darkness and having a nasty landing as you expected, you were floating in a tunnel of colours and flashes. As they started to twist around you quicker by the second, you started to feel nauseous, not being able to tell apart up from down and left from right, so you closed your eyes shut and braced for the impact.

After a couple more spins in this strange space, you landed a bit roughly on your side and rolled over. Trembling, you took a couple of breaths to steady yourself. You could feel a slight sting on your hip and elbow where you had landed, but nothing else seemed to hurt. Tentatively opening your eyes, you were sort of expecting to be covered in sewage or at least some dirt, but instead, you found yourself on the ground in what seemed to be a narrow alley. It was dark, so you couldn’t see well, but something was definitely off. The lights coming from the main street were way too bright and neon-y. You also noticed the lack of that typical city smell. Standing to your feet, you dusted yourself off, only to realise that your arms weren’t your arms. Your hands, legs, even your backpack next to you on the ground; it all looked cartoony!

Grabbing your things and running towards the street you spun around to take it all in and concluded that you were, in fact, in a cartoon world of sorts. How hard did I hit my head?! you asked yourself. Because clearly, this could not be real. 

Different characters passed you by on the street, ignoring you. You walked a little farther, trying to recognise the style or some of the shops, but to no avail.

Just as you were turning a corner, you saw a sign that you immediately recognised: Albearto’s. Falling into a jog to check out the shop, you failed to notice the giant vehicle approaching you. And apparently so did the driver, as it came to a screeching halt before you, slightly bumping into you in the process. You were yet again knocked down and on the floor. 

“If I could stop being assaulted for one second, that would be great” you grumbled to yourself.

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice asked from the direction of the vehicle. 

You jumped back to your feet, ready to give them an earful for being so careless, but as your eyes came up to the scene before you, all words left your brain.

In front of you was none other than the turtle tank, four colour-coded turtle bros walking towards you with worried faces. 

And once again, you hit the ground.

You passed out.

— — —

When you came back to, you found yourself lying on a couch. Shielding your eyes from the lights with your hand, you slowly stood up. Taking a look around you immediately recognised that you were in the lair, in the projector room to be precise. 

“Well, someone is finally awake,” you heard a voice behind you. A voice you’d recognise anywhere, amongst hundreds of people. 

You slowly turned around to look at Leo, who was leaning on the back of the couch, looking down at you. 

“Are you okay? You came out of nowhere, we didn’t see you!” he asked and gave you a once over to check for any discomfort. “This is why we don’t let Raph drive” he added with a lopsided grin, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.

You blinked once, twice. And tore your gaze from him to your hands in your lap, fisting the blanket. 

Should you tell him? That he and his family live in a cartoon world? That he’s your blorbo and you love him with the intensity of a thousand burning suns? What timeline are you in anyways? Did… that already happen? 

Daring to look up at him again, you noticed he was wearing the black arm wraps. He looked at you with a quizzical, almost irritated expression, since you weren’t answering. You gave one last look over your shoulder behind you, and there were in fact a couple of abandoned subway wagons in view. So they were at the new lair.

For now you decided to play along.

Turning around back to Leo, who was still waiting for your answer, you gave him a smug look.

“Do you always bring back the people you almost run over to your home?” you asked.

“Only the pretty ones,” he responded. You looked at him in shock. He mirrored your expression, realising how that sounded.

“That was way creepier than I intended, wait,” he groaned and hid his face behind the back of the couch. You heard him sigh, and then he walked around it to sit on the arm rest beside you.

“Let’s start over,” he smiled and held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Leo, but you call me Neon Leon”.

Smiling at his self given nickname, you introduced yourself as you grabbed his hand with both of yours, and just kind of held it. You held his gaze as your eyes softened.

“Do- do we know each other?” he asked with an expression that was something between confused and amused. “Usually people don’t react this calm to, well, this,” he explained, using his other hand to gesture at himself. 

“I can’t see why,” you replied, biting your tongue just in time before adding a ‘since I like what I see’. 

“Isn’t that why you fainted though? Out of shock?” he questioned and his eyes fell down to his hand, which was still in yours. Feeling the heat rise up to your face, you immediately let go. 

“No, I, uhm…” You cleared your throat, trying to come up with an excuse. “It was more a shock of almost being run over rather than seeing who it was,” you lied, but commended yourself mentally since it was believable and much better than the truth.

“Understandable,” he nodded. “You’re fine though, right? Donnie ran some tests and we didn’t see any major injuries or anything. Ah, by the way, Donnie is my brother. There’s four of us, actually. Or five, if you count Splinter. Six, if you count April…” he started rambling, counting on his fingers. You noticed he didn’t mention Casey. 

The rest of the day was spent with Leo giving you a tour of the lair, introducing you to everyone, and showing you his Jupiter Jim comic collection. 

When he asked where you were from and other similar questions, you tried to keep it as vague as possible. You hoped that he wouldn’t think you were hiding something because you were a spy for the Foot or something like that. You just couldn’t tell him the truth because if you did, he’d want to know how the show ended, and you don’t want to be responsible for messing up this timeline, whichever it is.

So you tried to enjoy the evening as much as possible, playing games with the turtles, eating pizza and reading comics. 

As the night rolled in, you felt the exhaustion of everything that had happened sinking in. Looks like the lack of energy from your world had followed you even here. With a hearty yawn you stretched your limbs.

“Looks like someone’s tired,” Mikey giggled. 

“Yeah, I think I’ll head home-” you started saying in your sleep-deprived state, only to abruptly stop yourself, eyes now wide open. “Actually, I just remembered I don’t have a place to stay. I got… kicked out” you said, and technically, it wasn’t even a complete lie this time.

“Aw no, poor thing!” Mikey whined and came to hold you in a comforting manner. “You can crash here for now. Right guys?” he looked at his brothers, giving them the best puppy eyes he could manage. Sighing, the others gave in. They weren’t all that keen on letting a stranger stay, but you seemed nice enough.

Once again you were tucked into the couch, this time with more pillows and blankets. They had even offered you some spare clothes to change into. 

Coming out of the bathroom you made your way to your makeshift bed, looking down at your attire. Seeing your own cartoon self in the mirror was weird enough, but now here you were in Leo’s baggy shirt and basketball shorts and it dawned on you that you didn’t know if you’d still be here tomorrow. You had no idea how you had landed here in the first place, or if you were just imagining it. Even then, you wanted to take out as much as possible from whatever time you’d get to spend here. 

So you climbed into bed, and waited until you could hear faint snores coming from the bedrooms. Going over the words one last time in your head, you tip-toed your way as quietly as possible to Leo’s room. Gosh, you looked like such a creep right now. But you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Carefully standing next to his bed, you noticed how sprawled out he was, his sleeping mask kinda askew on his face, mouth open. At the sight, your hand came up to cover your mouth, stopping the emerging giggles. He just looked too cute.

Taking a deep breath, you crouched down and held onto his bed frame. You spoke in nothing more than a whisper.

“I don’t know if I’ll be here in the morning, but I just wanted you to know that this was the best day of my life. Never would I have thought I’d meet you for real. You’ve always kept me going when life got difficult, I…” You paused, bitterly smiling at the fact that you were about to profess your love and admiration to a fictional character. “It’s unfair, really. You have no idea who I am, but there’s so much I want to tell you, yet I can’t, I- I shouldn’t. Just know this: You are loved. You are worthy. You are a good leader. You are a good brother. And if I am still here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next… I wish for nothing more than to be by your side.”

Suddenly your mind was flooded with the events of the Krangpocalypse, and you felt the tears building up. You stood up and turned to leave, but stopped in your tracks. For a moment you battled with yourself, but ended up taking a step back again to lean over Leo and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. As you leaned back up he stirred, and you turned to make a quick leave.

What you didn’t know however was that he’d been awake and had heard everything, but was too shocked to react. After some minutes pondering if he should go talk to you or not, he decided it couldn’t wait until the next day; he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways after what you said, especially the way you said it. 

Climbing out of bed Leo silently made his way to the projector room only to find an empty couch.

You were gone without a trace.

~~~

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BENEATH HUMAN SKIN ⋆✦⋆ ulquiorra schiffer

synopsis ➸ after ulquiorra is resurrected by orihime, you’re tasked with taking him in—a bitter twist of fate given the memories of your time as his prisoner. stripped of his power and bound to a fragile human body, he’s now completely dependent on you for survival. at first, you’re repulsed by the idea of caring for the very man who once held you captive, but as days pass, you find yourself drawn to the complexities of his new existence. with each lesson in humanity you’re forced to teach him, the lines between resentment and compassion begin to blur in ways you never expected.

chapter two —beyond human horror

pairing ➸ ulquiorra schiffer x reader

word count ➸ 6.5k

masterlist

*a couple months later*

The apartment door swung open with a squeak of protest as you stumbled through, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of another long day at the office. "Honey, I'm home!" you called out in a half-hearted rasp of sarcasm as you toed off your shoes.

An odd, muted clattering echoed from the direction of the kitchen, prompting you to pry open gritty eyes and finally take stock of your surroundings. You frowned faintly at the rich, savory aroma permeating the small living space - an incongruous accompaniment to the domesticity your teasing words implied.

With a lurch of sudden alertness, you straightened and pivoted towards the kitchen's entryway, half-dreading what visual awaited you. Sure enough, there stood Ulquiorra in all his human-shaped glory, sleeves of his white button-down rolled up past taut forearms as he worked with an array of simmering pots on the ancient stovetop.

And there, tied in a decidedly cheerful pink around that whipcord musculature, was the single most out-of-place garment you could have imagined adorning the former Espada's lean, battle-hewn frame - a ruffled, lacy apron that might have looked more at home on a 50's housewife than the one-time scourge of Las Noches.

Ulquiorra seemed so utterly absorbed in his culinary undertaking that he didn't immediately register your gawking study of his...unorthodox state of dress. You watched, lips parting helplessly, as he stirred something thick and fragrant in the central pot before dipping his stained wooden spoon to taste an experimental swipe. Sharp emerald eyes flickered over the viscous amber liquid clinging to the utensil in clear assessment.

Only when Ulquiorra's gaze shifted towards you, utterly impassive save for the faint crinkle between those striking brows, did any trace of self-consciousness seem to register.

"You have returned," he observed in a flat, inflectionless rasp that nevertheless had the hair prickling along the back of your nape in strange, visceral recognition. "I was under the impression you would not be home until the human dinner hour concluded."

Words continued to fail you as Ulquiorra seemed to take your gaping silence as...well, not permission per se, but certainly no deterrent from extending the spoon towards you in clear invitation. You eyed the viscous offering with mild trepidation as it hovered impatiently in the negligible space separating you.

"Well?" Ulquiorra's unique baritone took on the barest edge of gruffness that made your heart jolt inexplicably. "You have not yet sampled the fruits of today's recipe trials. I require your feedback to determine if any further seasoning adjustments are needed."

Finally snapping out of your stupor, you shook your head with a rueful chuckle and allowed your bag to slip from your shoulder, already crossing to accept the proffered spoonful of whatever Ulquiorra had concocted this time.

"Any excuse to get me to eat your weird cooking experiments, right?" you muttered under your breath, leaning in to part your lips and accept the warm, velvety mouthful with a hesitant sweep of your tongue.

As the rich, aromatic flavors bloomed across your tastebuds, you made an approving sound in spite of yourself, eyelids fluttering with epicurean relish. "Mmm, not bad!" You praised around the lingering notes of spice clinging to your palate. "What is...goddamn, Ulquiorra!"

The former Espada made a sound suspiciously close to an irritable click of his tongue as you cast your eyes around the kitchen in exaggerated dismay. Every available surface seemed to be littered with measuring spoons, dirty mixing bowls, and stray seasonings that spoke of a downright calamitous approach to whatever recipe he was following to the letter this time.

"I followed the instructions precisely as outlined in your human culinary tome," Ulquiorra groused, a subtle rebuke undercutting his usual flat affect. "And yet somehow the end result still pales in comparison to the illustrations or your version."

His words carried the barest hint of challenge, as if issuing you to contradict his claims of attempted adherence to proper technique. You simply arched an eyebrow in response and crossed your arms over your chest to lean your hip against the battered kitchen counter.

"Not sure there's enough paprika and saffron combined in this dilapidated apartment to recreate that level of aromatic perfection," you drawled with a mixture of sass and teasing that had Ulquiorra's striking eyes narrowing infinitesimally.

You held his stare evenly until a telltale twitch at the corner of those lush lips signaled you'd successfully gotten under the former hollow's skin. Sure enough, when Ulquiorra replied, his tones were flat enough to sap moisture from the very air between your bodies.

"I did not ask for mockery, woman. I was merely seeking your expertise and guidance through this endeavor...or is such open instruction also beyond your admittedly limited skillset?"

The subtle edge to his words, the uncompromising haughty tilt of that sharply defined jawline - it cut straight through the lingering mirth bubbling through your veins to spark a brief surge of defiant ire. Before you could stop yourself, your own prickly pride was rearing its obstinate head in answer.

"Hey now, don't get snippy with me just because you're frustrated, Ulqui-poo," you crooned, slathering his impromptu pet name in dripping condescension that had those vivid green eyes going incandescent. "If you wanted me to walk you through every step from the start, all you had to do was ask nicely."

You let the syrupy drawl linger in challenge until Ulquiorra set aside the sauce-stained spoon with a pointed, metallic clink. He pivoted towards you with exaggerated unhurried ease, stance and expression so coolly neutral it somehow raised the hackles along your nape all the more potently.

"Woman..." he murmured at last, syllables laced with gravel and banked threats as he closed the distance until your overheated awareness fixated on the fine beading of perspiration dotting his brow. "Retrieve the human recreation device from your belongings and operate it immediately."

You stared up at the former hollow hovering over your smaller frame - drinking in the subtle, hypnotic play of firelight gilding his severe features into warm, striking planes. The open-ended threat of his growled ultimatum sparked an answering flare of heated adrenaline deep in your core, challenge meeting challenge through the weighted stretches of silence descending upon you.

At last, you let slip the barest of disbelieving snorts and turned your back on Ulquiorra with an indolent roll of your shoulders.

"Whatever you say, Espada-sama," you tossed over your shoulder with a blatant hint of mocking derision lacing your tones. "I was just waiting on your usual passive-aggressive huffing to run its course anyway."

With studious unhurried movements, you retrieved your discarded satchel from its heap beside the door and began rummaging through the cluttered contents with exaggerated unconcern - all too aware of the intensity of that emerald regard burning into your back with each passing second.

Finally, your questing fingers closed around the distinctive plastic casing of the DVD you'd purchased earlier that week. You couldn't quite prevent the small, triumphant smile playing over your lips as you withdrew the movie and brandished it with a flourish in Ulquiorra's direction.

"Corpse Bride it is!" You announced with deliberately bright, almost sing-song overtones belying the weight of your nonverbal standoff. "I know how much you enjoy Tim Burton's...aesthetic. So get that dish of yours plated up while I get our spooky date night all set for us!"

In the wake of your grating exuberance, Ulquiorra simply stood utterly frozen for several weighted heartbeats - hawkish features giving away none of the calculations visibly churning behind that piercing stare. Then, with a huff of what could have been dismissal or equal disdain, the former Espada turned on his heel to attend to plating his small culinary masterpiece as you requested.

You tracked the controlled, eerily graceful movements of Ulquiorra's body as he navigated the cramped quarters like a lethal specter made flesh. Each flex and pull of that lean, corded musculature beneath his standard issue sleeves seemed to hold some inscrutable meaning - a silent unraveling of the paradigms ceaselessly shifting between your bonded existences.

As Ulquiorra dished out steaming portions of the rich, aromatic dish onto two modest ceramic plates, you felt a prickling shiver of anticipation creep up your spine you made no effort to repress. Somehow, effortlessly, this creature of cataclysm and inhumanity had slipped fully beneath your skin until moments like these represented something more visceral and indefinable than simple coexistence.

You swallowed hard against the sudden thickness cloying your airway closed. With the DVD clutched like a talisman in one sweaty palm, you turned your back on the display of mundane domesticity and made your way towards the worn loveseat that would host your evening's cinematic ambiance.

Behind you, Ulquiorra's rough baritone rasped one final salvo before silence descended around you like gathering stormheads:

"I expect full illumination and guidance..."

The words hung in the thickening air, heated and laced with promise. You refused to meet Ulquiorra's beckoning stare directly - didn't dare shatter the delicate tension cloaking your forms. Instead, you simply exhaled a breathy murmur of acknowledgment that drifted behind you in Ulquiorra's wake as he approached with your shared meal in tow.

"Don't worry...I'll walk you through every last twisted second of it."

From the moment the Corpse Bride's opening credits began to unspool across the battered television screen, you found yourself stealing frequent sidelong glances at Ulquiorra's profile. Some primal fascination simmered within you, desperate to catalog every minute shift of his striking features as he absorbed the darkly whimsical imagery.

The former Espada remained utterly motionless and inscrutable beside you on the sagging loveseat, seemingly carved from impervious stone. His long-fingered hands rested loosely atop his thighs, calloused knuckles brushing the faded denim in a counterpoint of textures that held your fixation for several suspended moments. You drank in the flexing tendons shifting beneath the sun-darkened tan of his wrists, the veins tracing hypnotic pathways leading back up beneath the casually rolled sleeves of his dress shirt.

As the titular bride rose from the grave in a swirl of ethereal blue mist, Ulquiorra's shoulders twitched incrementally - the barest betrayal of a reaction bleeding through his statuesque poise. You couldn't resist allowing your stare to trace over the sharp jut of his collarbone, aimlessly tracing the deep 'v' visible through the open collar of his shirt as you wondered what secrets might lie just beneath...

When Victor's tremulous tenor joined the Corpse Bride's haunting lament, you flinched infinitesimally, jarred from your idle inward musings in a heartsick rush. Ulquiorra shifted again beside you as if registering the same startled frisson from the anguished vocals mingling so hauntingly. Your gaze darted instinctively towards the hollow— man's face, seeking any flicker of micro-expression or involuntarily leaked emotion.

But Ulquiorra's jawline remained carved in that same aristocratic, unyielding line - eyes hooded yet glittering with banked, indecipherable intensity as he absorbed the unfolding narrative. There one moment and gone the next, a subliminal twinge somewhere between captivation and consternation seemed to flit across his noble brow before dissipating entirely.

You held your breath unknowingly, leaning infinitesimally closer in hopes of catching whatever ghostly impulse had disrupted the former Espada's eerie serenity and giving it conscious form between your joined frames. But Ulquiorra continued regarding the darkly whimsical tale with stony inscrutability, eyes glued to the chaotic blossoming of Victor's supernatural entanglements with implacable focus.

As the next stretch of melodramatic plot points and grandiose musical numbers unspooled across the flickering screen, you could all but sense the inexorable build of bewilderment shadowing the former hollow's consciousness. The tiniest wrinkle forming between those slashing insomniac brows and the almost imperceptible tightening around his impassive mouth hinted at dawning dissatisfaction Ulquiorra made no overt move to voice.

But when the final act brought the film's climactic clash of ethereal realms and calamity to its circular, strangely melancholic resolution...that's when you felt the subterranean tremors of Ulquiorra's quietly churning bafflement finally take irrevocable root.

As the credits rolled with all the hushed finality of a crypt door closing, you held your breath in anticipation of the former Espada's judgment - be it disdain for the frivolous romanticism or flat disregard for such trifling human theatrics entirely. You braced yourself for biting critique, the dismissive barbs sure to further slice those exposed nerves you'd laid open for scrutiny alongside each successive scene.

Which is why you were taken completely aback when Ulquiorra broke the weighted silence between you with a low murmur as hushed and inscrutable as the ending itself.

“I’m… not sure I understand why the conclusion follows human societal norms and customs,” he stated carefully, each syllable calibrated with surgical precision. “Considering the supernatural disaster and the roles of each character, the resolution doesn’t match the stakes and dynamics that were set up.”

You blinked owlishly at Ulquiorra's backhanded critique, momentarily too thrown to collect your thoughts into an adequately reasoned response. The former Espada's striking gaze remained fixed upon the television's blank screen, sharp features etched in a portrait of ponderous consideration.

"Emily was clearly the more dominant personality, her existence grounded within the physical realm despite her undead nature," Ulquiorra mused onward in those same arid, meticulous tones. "And yet she willingly ceded her desires and the advantage of an unliving existence in order to adhere to the whims and fickleness of the living Victor character..."

The former Espada finally tore his heavy-lidded emerald stare from the empty screen to fix you with an unmistakable air of consternation weighing behind the words. "I found such a conclusion to defy all forms of logic and pragmatism, based on what the story's parameters had established as reasonable."

You gaped back at Ulquiorra in mild stupefaction, utterly thrown by the complexity of his thought process and the unexpected amount of dissection he'd evidently devoted to Tim Burton's admittedly chaotic and whimsical narrative flow. Somehow, you'd anticipated dismissive disregard or barbed mockery of the romanticism's more maudlin themes and adherence to gothic flair over cold logic.

But instead, the former Arrancar seemed almost...disappointed? Confounded, certainly, as if the resolution undermined his ability to rationalize the story's carefully curated dramatic stakes into some codified worldview that made sense. Gone was the stony indifference or disdain, replaced by the low churnings of dissatisfaction and baffled consternation.

Realizing Ulquiorra was watching you expectantly - no doubt already recalibrating to your inevitable failure at providing a satisfactory counterpoint to his observations - you sucked in a steadying breath and quickly marshalled your thoughts.

"Well...I mean, part of the Corpse Bride's entire premise and examination of love is deconstructing those traditional notions surrounding lifelong commitments and societal expectations," you began in what hoped was a reasonable tone. "The central conflict of having two passionate connections in this wildly different state of existence sort of serves to challenge everything we assume about devotion's boundaries."

Ulquiorra's gaze remained unblinkingly intense upon you, seeming to study each cant of your body language and nuanced inflection. You could practically feel the weight of his scrutiny ratcheting upwards as you continued haltingly onwards.

"S-So for Emily to ultimately submit to humanity's arbitrary limitations about marriage and partnering despite her unusual state and obvious advantages over the living realm...it symbolizes how love itself often defies cold logic in these cases," you concluded, unable to resist the hopeful lilt coloring your tone towards the end.

When several pregnant moments stretched by without the hollow-turned-human deigning to reply or offer a reaction, you felt your cheeks beginning to burn hotly. Suddenly acutely self-conscious under the weight of Ulquiorra's uncompromising scrutiny, you bristled defensively.

"What? Not up to your lofty standards of narrative quality control, Mr. Perfect Analysis?" The barb left your lips before conscious thought could rein it in.

Rather than react overtly to your provocation, Ulquiorra simply continued studying you with that measured, implacable intensity that sent delicious tingles of discomfort sparking down your spine.

"And yet," he rasped at last in a considering drawl that reverberated straight through your core. "The narrative had by this point established Emily as a creature of raw, undiluted passion and ambition - willing to cast aside social conventions and challenge authority to seize what she craved."

The former Espada leaned forward incrementally, eyes boring into you with disquieting intensity despite his otherwise inscrutably relaxed posture. "To have her submit to society's fickle whims and relinquish her obvious advantages over her rival in the end...it feels abrupt and contrary to that core characterization, does it not?"

Unable to withstand the hypnotic weight of Ulquiorra's scrutiny any longer, you broke his stare with a shaky exhale and turned to retrieve the television's remote control. "Look, if you're going to completely miss the entire point of the commentary, then Corpse Bride is clearly the wrong viewing choice for someone in your state of...intellectual constipation."

With a few defiant jabs at the remote’s buttons, you switched to scrolling through different channels, trying to distract yourself from Ulquiorra’s utterly focused presence beside you. No longer was the former hollow simply absorbing the content with detached curiosity - now he seemed intent on applying some impossibly stringent analytical rigor to every plot point and thematic undertone.

A tiny, perverse part of you couldn't resist lobbing this particular brand of kindling into the proverbial flames of the former Espada's indignity.

"Here," you announced decisively, hitting select on the brightly colored thumbnail displayed in garish HD splendor. "This should be far more your speed when it comes to examining themes and narrative substructures."

The opening splash screen and tinkering overture of the Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus movie lit up the cramped living room in a blinding garish display of overwhelming pink and digitally sculpted innocence. You smirked faintly at the twitch rolling through the tendons in Ulquiorra's wrist and forearm as the initial snippets of dialogue began to play out on-screen.

"Woman..." The terse rebuke rumbled from deep in the former hollow's chest in a delicious wave of disapproval. "If this is some misguided effort at mockery—"

"Not at all, Ulquiorra," you couldn't resist crooning with dripping sweetness, finally meeting his scathing stare once more over the low coffee table. "I just figured, given your highly refined palette for nuanced storytelling and character deconstruction...something like this would prove ripe material for analysis."

You watched in unveiled relish as the former Espada's posture went incrementally more rigid with each chirpy line of animated dialogue painting itself across the television's glare. Emerald eyes flashed from beneath hooded lids and that same pensive furrow reappeared between slashing brows as he struggled to process the narrative unfolding for him.

Before you could so much as slide another taunting barb past your teeth, Ulquiorra's rigid hand shot out with preternatural swiftness to seize the discarded remote from beside your thigh with bruising force. You inhaled a startled breath as the former hollow overrode the movie's obnoxious chimes with another electronic command, plunging the two of you into a stillness rent only by labored exhalations and the thundering of your shared heartbeats.

"Enough," Ulquiorra growled in that fathomless baritone that sparked liquid electricity along your suddenly oversensitized nerve endings. "This form of...cinematic torture will not be endured further without repercussions."

You blinked rapidly, pulse racing rabbit-quick under the weight of the former Espada's banked viridity and the undeniably heated charge now building between your close proximities. Somehow, in the span of mere minutes, the atmosphere had shifted somehow - now charged and nebulous with untapped potential humming like a livewire.

As if sensing the shift in undercurrents, Ulquiorra repositioned himself ever-so-slightly until your folded knees brushed in the most fleeting of contact. You fought the shuddering urge to squirm away from that brand of forbidden intimacy.

"If you require my insights and dissections so acutely, woman," Ulquiorra murmured with shivery deliberateness, "then prepare me something more...worthy of my full and unbridled scrutiny."

The weighted implication behind his words kindled a tiny spark of annoyance that rapidly bloomed into full defensive bristle. You narrowed your eyes at Ulquiorra's retreating back, the arch challenge in his tone grating against your instinctive desire to have the final word.

"Oh yeah?" You tossed the words out toward his lean silhouette haloed in the shadows of the hallway entrance. "Well why don't you pick something for a change, Mr. High and Mighty Critic? Put your money where your mouth is for once."

Ulquiorra's steps stilled mid-stride, the minute cocking of his head over one corded shoulder your only signal that he'd registered your flippant retort. For one heartbeat, then two, suspended stillness saturated the space between you in thickening portent.

Just as your defiant bravado began to wan under the strain of such stifling muteness, Ulquiorra pivoted with an eerie, reptilian fluidity. You found yourself pinned beneath the full smoldering weight of his penetrating jade regard as he stalked back toward the living area with that same predatory unhurriedness.

"Very well," he intoned, each softly spoken syllable shivering with banked promise. "I shall endeavor to select something more...evocative for our cinematic indulgences this evening."

There was no concealing the shiver of anticipatory trepidation lancing down your spine at his darkly confident cadence. You swallowed hard against the instinctive flutter of unease manifesting low in your belly, determined not to show any outward faltering.

Ulquiorra brushed past you without breaking that weighted stare, letting the scorching brand of his body heat ghost along your arm in a subliminal caress dripping with heady provocation. Only when the former Espada crouched with predatory grace before the small entertainment center did you allow yourself to exhale shakily.

Your palms prickled with the first fine sheen of nervous sweat as Ulquiorra's stare raked over the modest collection of DVDs, seeming to appraise and reject each one with fastidious contemplation. Something about the crisp, decisively minute adjustments of his head and the intermittent creasing of his brow made you abruptly, viscerally certain this was no idle browsing or flippant selection.

No, Ulquiorra was clearly endeavoring to curate the absolute most...effective viewing experience possible. One pitched specifically towards rattling whatever composure and bravado you still clung to after your earlier taunts and provocations.

You licked your lips nervously, the first frisson of genuine concern trickling up your spine as Ulquiorra seemed to freeze before one specific title, eerie eyes narrowing intently at the garish cover art. That tiny muscle at the corner of his jaw twitched almost imperceptibly, the barest betrayal of contemplation.

All at once, Ulquiorra snapped upright with enough preternatural suddenness to startle a tiny involuntary gasp past your lips. You tensed as his piercing stare tracked back towards you, features arranged into an inscrutable mask of stony evaluation.

"This one," he declared in that toneless, inflectionless rasp that managed to drip with malicious promise.

You regarded the DVD case clutched in Ulquiorra's long fingers apprehensively, unable to resist darting your gaze back to his features to discern what sinister revelation might lie behind those hooded, predatory eyes. But the former Espada was utterly implacable and unrevealing as ever, posture radiating an almost blithe indifference at direct odds with your steadily mounting sense of dread.

At last, you dragged your reluctant focus fully toward the offending title in Ulquiorra's grasp, feeling an ugly prickle of gooseflesh stipple over every exposed inch of flesh as your eyes traced the familiarly ghastly movie poster emblazoned there.

The Exorcist's iconic artwork – the twisted, hellishly contorted features of the possessed Regan leering over a faded crucifix backdrop – stared back at you from the weathered plastic casing with all the voracious, corruptive malice you remembered from childhood nights being kept awake by sheer visceral terror.

"No..." The hushed rasp of denial slipped from between your lips before rational control could intervene. "N-No way, Ulquiorra. Fuck that film and the devil horse it galloped in on."

You took an instinctive backward step as the former Hollow took one slow, inexorable stride forward – movements fluid and hypnotic in their unhurried menace. There was no mistaking the tiny, razor curve quirking one corner of Ulquiorra's lush mouth – a glimmer of sadistic satisfaction gleaming in the depths of his unblinking jade stare.

"Oh?" He rasped out with deliberate breathiness, voice pitched low enough to lick tingles down your spine like the seductive rasp of the serpent itself. "And here I was under the impression you craved a more...stimulating cinematic dissection from me tonight?"

Your jaw worked silently in protest, every semblance of composure withering beneath the scorching brand of Ulquiorra's steady approach and calculated words. This demon, this supreme harbinger of past destruction, held your every phobia and childish terror cradled in his grasp like a vengeful succubus preparing to strike at your deepest vulnerabilities.

"I..." The stammering protestation lodged like a stone in your throat, steeling your spine with the first true flickerings of blind panic. "Th-That's not...I didn't mean anything this...this fucking evil!"

The mildly hysterical warble lacing your breathless words seemed only to inflame Ulquiorra's sadistic relish further. Within moments, his lean, imposing frame loomed over yours – near enough that you could drink in the deliciously masculine notes of clean musk and scorched cedar clinging to his heated skin.

"I see I've succeeded in...rattling your resolve then," Ulquiorra practically purred with heady, leonine menace. His stare never wavered from yours, utterly unblinking and implacable as he drank in your burgeoning terror and dismantling bravado with clear rapture. "So this will prove suitable for my...observations after all."

A flicker of wild panic lanced through you at the sinister promise laced through Ulquiorra's rasping tones. With a surge of desperation, you launched yourself off the couch, hands outstretched to claw the accursed DVD from the former Espada's grasp.

"Give it!" you growled with as much bravado as you could muster, scrambling forward. "I'm not letting you torture me with that satanic mind-screw of a movie!"

Rather than relinquish his prize, Ulquiorra simply reacted with eerie, preternatural calm. One large hand snapped up to seize your wrist in an unbreakable manacle, halting your momentum cold. You hissed through clenched teeth, straining against the immovable restraint with all your waning strength.

The former hollow regarded your frantic struggles with politely dispassionate interest, not a hair out of place as he weathered your pitiful offensive. With a deft twirl of his captured wrist, Ulquiorra reversed your momentum entirely - seizing your other arm and hauling you flush against the solid wall of his chest with negligent ease.

You squirmed futilely in his snaring embrace, glaring bloody defiance even as your heart trip-hammered beneath your ribs. But Ulquiorra only studied you with that same banked, unblinking intensity.

"Really now, woman," he tutted with mild, infuriating condescension. "Is this how one ought to behave in polite company?"

Despite your furious wriggling, Ulquiorra somehow managed to tuck The Exorcist's case securely into his pocket - then set about extracting the disc itself with one-handed, hypnotic efficiency. You huffed a sound of pure disgust against his chest, determined not to show any outward flickers of the dread curling icy tendrils through your veins.

With a chilling finality, you heard the disc slide home and the DVD player hum to sputtering life. Then Ulquiorra's focus shifted back to you entirely, emerald eyes narrowing to predatory slits as he took in your defiant struggle.

"It seems we've reached an impasse," he murmured with maddening tranquility. "You've made your... distaste for this particular film abundantly clear. And yet it appears no amount of resistance will dissuade me from pursuing our cinematic enlightenment further."

He allowed a single beat of quiet, then squeezed his arms around your torso in an inescapable vise of flexing muscle and smoky cedar. You couldn't bite back a startled gasp as the former hollow swept you up into his arm like a petulant child, striding over to deposit you firmly on the worn loveseat cushions with zero care for ceremony.

Before you could so much as lever yourself upright from the awkward sprawl, Ulquiorra casually swept your ankles into his lap in one smooth motion - pinning your legs while simultaneously commandeering the nearby remote. His look of distant, detached focus would have been comical in any other scenario as his thumb engaged play and the lurid strains of demonic ambiance thundered to howling life around you.

You sat frozen for one heartbeat, then two, before a distant creak in the floorboards sent you rocketing upright with an ungainly squawk of shock. Against your will, you reflexively scrabbled backward into the corner of the loveseat, arms cinching around your drawn-up knees in a desperate bid to ground yourself.

On screen, the cheerfully domestic scenes of Regan's normal life unspooled in stark contrast to the sonic descent into dissonant mania. At your side, Ulquiorra reclined against the opposite arm, brow furrowed in contemplative scrutiny. It was all undeniably, disconcertingly...banal.

Then a jarring violin shriek rent the air, and familiar horror exploded in a flurry of cut-sequences and terrified screaming. Your entire body jolted as if electrified, a strangled cry of panic shredding its way free from your convulsing throat before you could throttle it back down.

In that same instant, you found yourself plastered against Ulquiorra's side with wanton desperation, nails gouging lines down his powerful bicep hard enough to dimple flesh. The former Espada barely reacted to your instinctive glomming onto him for purchase - merely shifting his gaze to run an assessing sweep over your features.

"Distressing," he murmured without inflection, though you could have sworn those striking emerald eyes glinted with unholy amusement. "But hardly unexpected given your visceral reaction thus far."

You gulped a mouthful of stale oxygen, fighting back the childish impulse to bury your face against the solid security of Ulquiorra's shoulder. The rapid staccato pounding of your heart drowned out the awful audio assault continuing to shred the atmosphere around you.

Just as you began mentally rallying to unwind your death-grip on the former Espada's captive limb, another unnatural howl of anguish issued from the television speakers. This time, you managed to bite back your startled whimper...but could do nothing to quell the full-body flinch that had your fingers spasming in renewed desperation.

"Hmm," Ulquiorra sighed with maddening dispassion. His free hand drifted up, the backs of his knuckles dragging a scorching trail along the sensitive column of your nape in a mockery of reassurance. Rather than providing comfort, his feather-light caress sparked a wholly different kind of shiver ricocheting down your arched spine.

"Try not to expire from panic just yet," the former hollow murmured, dipping his noble chin to bring his lips perilously close to your temple as he spoke. "I would so hate for your mental disintegration to cut short this...enlightening experience."

The sardonic lilt of Ulquiorra's words should have sparked defiance and rebuke. But you could only shudder against his solid frame, fingers knotting into the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline as another inhuman snarl of abject torment ripped through the living room.

On screen, the blood-curdling theatrics continued to escalate in tandem with the pounding bass line of demonic ambiance. You flinched despite yourself with each slamming crescendo, torn between ducking away from the hellish imagery and instinctively pressing impossibly closer against Ulquiorra's implacable bulk.

Through it all, the former Espada remained as stoic and unruffled as a statue weathering a night of calamitous storms. His emerald gaze remained transfixed upon the flickering screen, not so much as twitching as each new grotesque abomination unfurled before your horrified eyes.

"Tell me, woman," Ulquiorra's low rasp sliced through the vicious cacophony from over your bowed head, surprisingly close to your ear. "Do your kind find any sense of relief or meaning in this weak human imitation of the supernatural? Or does it just disgust you on a primal level, like a cornered animal’s instinct?"

You didn't dare acknowledge the taunting lilt of his question, too fixated on not allowing each new jarring screech or belch of gore to jolt your heart straight up into your larynx. But Ulquiorra appeared unruffled by your continued shuddering silence, seemingly more than content to spectate your decompensating sanity one faltering nerve ending at a time.

Summoning your deepest reserves of stubborn defiance, you pried one eye open to shoot the former Espada a withering glare. But the taunting rejoinder curdled half-formed in your throat as you finally drank in Ulquiorra's expression in full.

Or rather, startling lack thereof.

The hollow's pallid features were set in an eerie mask of neutrality even more bloodlessly remote than usual. His jaw seemed to have grown even more chiseled and leonine, lips compressed into an unyielding line of...what? Contempt? Affected ambivalence in the face of Hell's visceral representations?

You squinted through the murky shadows clinging to his profile, a frisson of unease prickling along your nape. It took several suspended heartbeats for true realization to dawn amongst the fog of lingering panic.

Ulquiorra was...afraid.

Not in the wild-eyed, histrionic way mortal terror resonated through your battered psyche. No, the former hollow's reaction was far more unsettling. Dissonant. You watched in bewildered trepidation as his nostrils flared with each measured inhale, eerie green eyes locked upon horrors no living entity should ever be exposed to with an utterly eviscerating vacancy.

As if sensing your scrutiny, Ulquiorra's lashes swept downward to obscure those hauntingly hollow apertures in moth-wing caresses of shadow and ash. An infinitesimal flicker of tension tightened the flexors beneath your clinging grip, the only minute fracture betraying some existential void being unravelled within his timeless being.

When next he spoke, the former Espada's words seemed gilded in permafrost – hushed, haunted, and somehow less...anchored.

"Perhaps we should divert our attentions elsewhere for the evening," he murmured, and you shuddered at the brittle fragility lurking behind those syllables like a gathering tempest consuming the horizon. "This film was clearly ill-conceived from the start."

Blinking rapidly to counter the adrenaline spike jolting through your arteries, you fought to regroup your scattered wits. Ulquiorra seemed incapable of following through on his own admission, remaining paralyzed in that unnatural pose of transfixed stasis.

Before conscious thought could intervene and restore your sense of self-preservation, you found your free hand skating upwards. Calloused fingertips dusted Ulquiorra's taut jawline, the brand of your touch wrenching a full-body flinch from the former Espada so startling, you nearly recoiled entirely.

But then his eyelids fluttered at the infinitesimal contact, revealing virescent slits still shrouded by trembling ash-swept fans. And you saw the first hairline fractures spiderwebbing behind those haunting depths – fine gossamer seams radiating out from the hollow's tormented soul in spirals of raw, visceral revelation the likes of which he was clearly unprepared to grapple with or rationalize away.

So you held your newly precarious position steady, heart rabbiting madly beneath your breast as Ulquiorra stared straight through you to some other desolate plane of communion. And slowly, with painstaking increments of unhurried force, you smoothed your trembling touch lower to caress the rigid musculature of his throat.

"It's alright," you husked without conscious volition to shape the soothing syllables. "It's just a silly human idea of terror. Nothing...nothing as unspeakably ancient or calamitous as what you've known in your existence."

Ulquiorra's lashes fluttered again at the grating warmth of your hoarse reassurances, throat bobbing convulsively. The harsh pant of his next exhale dusted over your parted lips, igniting tingles along every upraised patch of skin.

"...I do not understand this," he ultimately grated with the slow, leaden gravitas of spoken bedrock shifting beneath your joined forms. "Some truth bleeds through these pitiful mortal machinations...and into the core of what I am."

The despairing note threaded behind those syllables stole your next breath entirely. You found yourself transfixed anew, rooted to the precipice of Ulquiorra's revelation as his lids cleaved open fully – ancient, haunted depths now blazing with naked vulnerability.

"I cannot..." Another shard of bedrock splintered free, leaving the former Espada's mouth agape on words that rattled the cosmic dust of his inhuman esseence. "I cannot un-see, un-feel...I have been unmade."

In the heavy wake of Ulquiorra's deliverance, a protracted hush seemed to descend around your entangled frames – as if the entire material world ground to a standstill in the face of such raw, seismic truth. You could taste the charge thickening the air, a living miasma of exposed nerve endings and agonized catharsis.

Slowly, with infinite care, you cupped the curve of Ulquiorra's jaw and smoothed the pad of your thumb along the bow of his lower lip in abject reverence. It felt sacrosanct to offer penance, to soothe the ruptures shuddering from the vacant rents rent through his undying essence.

But the former Espada remained frozen against you, body coiled with unnamed dread as his wounded mind clung to familiar emptiness rather than risk splintering further under existential revelation's corruptive weight.

So you drew Ulquiorra down to you, guiding his ashen brow to rest against the damp, thudding cradle of your pulse in wordless invitation. He exhaled a fractured rasp against your slick skin, all of his immense power and metaphysical dominion concentrating into the trembling conduit of your twinned bodies as you smoothed soothing patterns along every straining tendon and steel-carved muscle.

Eventually, the screaming and rattling liturgies of terror ceased their litany upon the heaving altar of your beings. Silence crept in, cocooning and viscous, until only the paired tattoo of twin heartbeats marked time's inexorable continuation.

When Ulquiorra finally stirred with a full-bodied shudder, you expected him to recoil and restore that implacable distance between your souls through sheer force of preternatural will. But instead, the former hollow merely gathered you closer with a hush of displaced air – molding your forms together until no crevice remained for uncertainty or reproach to wedge itself.

"Sleep, woman," his command ghosted against your hairline, syllables cradled in the graveled resonance of eternity's full-throated acceptance. “There will be no more human displays of fear for us tonight… only rest in whatever brief comfort these fragile bodies offer before true horror tears them apart again tomorrow.”

You didn't dare acknowledge the shivering finality of Ulquiorra's edict out loud. Simply pressed your lips to the elegant architecture of his collarbone and surrendered utterly to the warm, grounding truth of his implacable form around you.

Outside, the mortal world continued turning with utterly oblivion to the tempest of profane truths and primal deconstructions unfolding between you. But within this hallowed world of tangled limbs and joined pulsebeats, the only dread that mattered for now lay in daring to look beyond humanity's pitiable veils and revel in the existential wonder of whatever abyssal, unknowable forces first birthed one such as Ulquiorra into waking revelation.

In the end, sleep's oblivion claimed you at last – though not without the faint susurration of unspeakable awe trailing in his wake as some fragment of the unfathomable was at last unshackled deep in your bones, irrevocably changing you just as Ulquiorra's essence had been rended unto its bleakest marrows this waking.

And tomorrow, when the din of daily struggles resumed and your world realigned into grounding shapes of indifference, you knew that same unnamable force would still linger – hungering, waiting, to be unravelled anew for both your salved souls...

[withahappyrefrain]

VENUS REACTION TO THE GOOSE MUSTACHE

She would both hate it and be conflicted by how it made her feel

You stopped dead in your tracks, ice running through your veins as horror swept into your heart.

"What the fuck is on your face?"

Jake looks up from the paper with a grin, "I know! It's pretty great, right?"

Your left eye twitches as you fully take on the sight of your fiancé's usually well groomed face.

Was it partly due to the fact you (and your thighs) had been enjoying the beard he had been sporting? Perhaps. One could argue that the soft hairs of his beard against your sensitive skin did more than just bring you pleasure; it brought comfort that he was home and with you.

If anything, the jarring image of nearly every part of his lower face all shaven, all except the space between his nose and upper lip that was currently being occupied by a blonde caterpillar, was more shocking. Repulsing even.

"Pretty great?," you purposely deepened your voice, taking on a slightly mocking country twang. Jake's mouth quirked into a smile, always endeared by your attempts to imitate him.

"Jacob Seresin, did you just call the starring actor in every stranger danger eighties infomercials pretty great?"

The comment got a laugh out of him, forcing him to put his cup of coffee down.

"Right? Venus, I can't believe someone would willingly choose this over anything else."

You took a step forward, your eyes never leaving his face, "You willingly chose this."

Jake nodded, "Yeah, because how else could I say I'm going as Rooster for Halloween and still win the best costume contest?"

His words replayed over in your head, filling you in on all the details of Jake's latest attempt at somehow simultaneously being the most clever yet also the most idiotic person in the room.

"You did this for a costume contest?"

His dimples revealed themselves as his lips etched into a wide smile. The kind of smile that made your knees weak.

The hair that adorned his upper lip did bring attention to his mouth. Particularly those pink lips and how they felt wrapped around your-

"I wanna sit on your face."

Jake couldn't tell anyone what part of his body twitched first at your sudden statement; his brain or his cock.

"You-you what?" He wasn't sure how his plan to win at Halloween and annoy the shit out of Bradshaw made you want such a thing.

And if you hadn't made your way over to where he was sitting, standing so that he was at eye level with the hem of his sweatshirt that stopped just at the tops of your thigh, he would have brought it up.

But then a hand of yours firmly cupped his jaw, forcing him to look up at you.

And how was he supposed to focus on anything else but your eyes?"

"I.....this could be allowed to stay. Depends on what it can do for me," your thumb gently traces over a corner of his mouth, brushing against the soft facial hair.

"Darlin', this thing is leaving as soon as I'm announced as the winner," Jake chuckled, trying to project some dominant, assertive persona, trying to hide his near painful erection.

You pushed his plate out of the way, allowing you to sit at the edge of the table.

"I'll be the judge of that, darlin'."