#AHHH I JUST WOKE UP TY FOR THE LOVE

[danilights2021]

Spiderman Satoru Gojo

infect me with your love

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City? (19.7k oh my fucking god)

warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied

a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.

of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying. 

matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.

that is, until gojo satoru.

first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college. 

take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.

the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal *i’ve done my homework.* you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”

professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.

but then, the door creaks open behind you.

you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.

professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”

“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”

the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”

at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”

oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.

you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.

and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.

he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.

you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop *showing up,* or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.

you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.

which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.

and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.

your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.

“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice. 

“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”

his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”

you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants. 

gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.

 but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.

you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order. 

and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.

“…what can i get you?” 

at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”

you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?

“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless. 

the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.

you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.

gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.

gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.

“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.

you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”

“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”

you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”

you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.

and yet, here you are.

“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”

he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.

pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”

you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”

as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.

after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”

“you said to surprise you.”

“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.

but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t. 

“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”

your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?

you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.

you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.

you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”

gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.

“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”

his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.

for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.

you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.

“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.

you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.

gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.

“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”

and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.

something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.

you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.

…

“you know, i didn’t get your name.”

gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.

you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”

you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.

gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”

you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”

grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.

it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back. 

he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.

"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance. 

“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”

gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.

“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.

when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”

“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.

fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”

“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason. 

but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”

ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.

“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”

you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”

you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.

you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.

“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”

you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”

your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”

but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”

“i really can’t—”

“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”

before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.

“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”

the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.

gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”

“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”

you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”

“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.

you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.

…

fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.

as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—

“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.

you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”

your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”

he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”

your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—

and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”

your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence. 

“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”

“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age.  “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”

the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”

and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.

“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”

a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”

the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.

“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.

“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”

the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”

“as you wish.”

with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself. 

you’ve seen him before.

okay, pause.

you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.

so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.

but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.

alright, pause over. back to now.

“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”

without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.

the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.

“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.

the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.

“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”

the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.

spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”

with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”

before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.

spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.

“nice hit, by the wa—”

“it’s you!” you exclaim. 

“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.

you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you. 

he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”

you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”

he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.

before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.

“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.

“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.

but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”

and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.

back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.

but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.

just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.

the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.

…

“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.

when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.

“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”

“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.

you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”

she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”

you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily. 

utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”

“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.

inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.

“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.

“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”

nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”

his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”

he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class. 

he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo. 

but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.

your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.

as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.

“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”

professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”

you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.

determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”

nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”

utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”

“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.

“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”

as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.

what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.

you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit. 

“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.

gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.

“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.

the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.

“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”

as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like. 

“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”

you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.

…

“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.

utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.

“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”

“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.

“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”

your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”

“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”

“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”

“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”

“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”

you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”

she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.

you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.

“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”

before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”

the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.

“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.

utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.

“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.

but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill. 

“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”

 they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.

“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”

utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles. 

standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.

“let me get that for you.”

you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.

gojo.

he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them. 

“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”

you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”

his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”

“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”

that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”

you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”

“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details. 

“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”

he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”

and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”

“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds. 

it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."

maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"

he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.

“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”

satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”

but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”

he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?

you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”

“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.

taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over. 

then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?

you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see  someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge. 

“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.

…

the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.

it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.

“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”

satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.

suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”

“shut up.”

but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.

satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.

“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”

they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work—papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.

and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.

that day at starbucks, though.

satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since. 

and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.

you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.

what was it again?

“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.

the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.

“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.

“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“no.”

suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”

satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”

“how is it complicated?”

“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”

suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”

“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”

suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”

“well, when you put it like that—”

“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”

satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged.  but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.

“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”

“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.

“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”

satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.

because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

but then there was suguru’s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.

…

amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof. 

you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.

setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.

“rough night?”

you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you. 

“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.

“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.

he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”

you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”

“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”

you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.

you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”

“from?”

“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”

“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”

“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”

his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”

you pout. “what if i call the police?”

“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”

you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”

“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”

“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”

then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”

you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.

“you should do that more,” he said.

“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion. 

“laugh.”

the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.

“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”

“is that right?”

“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“take my mask off.”

the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.

your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.

“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.

with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.

“gojo?”

the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.

he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”

“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”

“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.

gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”

you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.

you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. 

you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”

“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.

the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”

he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”

the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.

and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.

something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”

“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”

“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”

you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.

“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him. 

he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”

you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”

before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.

you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?” 

“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around. 

when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.

“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your  hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.

“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.

when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”

…

the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.

“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.

“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?

“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you.  “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”

you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”

gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”

he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.

“and yet, you’re still here.”

his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.

“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.

“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”

without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.

but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.

the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”

your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”

“this.”

before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.

when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”

you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.

gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”

when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?” 

somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.

“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.

gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.

“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”

you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”

“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.

“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”

your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.

and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.

…

when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.

it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants. 

you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single. 

he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet. 

you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down. 

but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.

satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.

you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.

“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.

he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”

“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”

satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”

acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”

you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?” 

“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.

“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness. 

his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.  

you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”  

he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”  

you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”  

there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.  

“do what?”  

“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”  

satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”  

you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”  

he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”  

you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.  

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.  

the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.  

“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.  

your breath catches. “satoru…”  

“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.  

“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.  

he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.  

you nod, and then his lips are on yours.  

the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.  

his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.  

that’s when he freezes.  

he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.  

your heart drops into your chest.

“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.  

“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”  

you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”  

“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.

you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.

“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”  

“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.”  

the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”  

he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.  

“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”  

he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.  

the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole. 

…

the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.

you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.

“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.

you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”

utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”

utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”

from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.

your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”

“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”

utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”

you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”

“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.

“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.

nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”

utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”

“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”

nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”

utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”

you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”

“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”

nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”

their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”

“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.

…

the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.

then it comes again, a little louder this time.

you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.

satoru.

he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.

you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.

“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”

“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”

“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”

“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.

“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.

“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”

for once, you thank the gods that he listens.

you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.

when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.

his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.

“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”

the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”

you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”

his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”

“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”

“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink. 

and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”

“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”

he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”

you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”

he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.

…

a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up. 

he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.

he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours. 

you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.

nestled right against his morning wood.

good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.

oh, say can you see—

to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.

“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.

but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake. 

and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him. 

“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”

you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”

he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”

“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”

oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts. 

you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.

“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you. 

you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.

satoru just tied you up using his webs.

you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.

“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”

it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.

“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”

then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.

and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.

“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.

“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”

you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”

“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”

 “satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”

a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you. 

he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.” 

you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.

wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.

“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”

at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.

for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”

you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”

and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”

if it weren’t for the damn spidey scene that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.

“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.

 satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.” 

you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”

at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”

at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.

satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.

you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?

still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.

“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”

instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and intelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up

plspls pls comment and reblog!!!

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits @ramonathinks

@creamflix

[chocolatestrawberrymilk]

hey hey! could you do tenko miu and kaede general relationship hcs? pls + ty if you do it!!!

aaa hi my first request! I'll try my best! >:)

Kaede

Ok she is literally the sweetest EVER.

If she likes you that only intensifies by 10x.

I don't think she's one that beats around the bush to tell someone her feelings, even if she's not sure you feel the same.

Probably goes up to you one day and just kinda says it! She doesn't see the point in pining when you two could be even happier even sooner!

If you say yes, she'll play one of her pieces for you.

Oh yea that reminds me - she TOTALLY writes music for you on, like, a daily basis.

Can you imagine going with her to her piano room, falling asleep, and then waking up to her softly playing a piece she wrote for you?

"Oh, you're awake! I'm sorry if I woke you up, sweetheart, but there's a piece I'd like to show you that I wrote just for you while you were sleeping - would you like to hear it?"

She'd be the kind to gently show you off, if you know what I mean?

Like, she isn't SUPER in everyone's face about it, but she takes every chance she can get to talk about how cool you are and how lucky it is that you two got together!

She probably doesn't get jealous easily. She knows that you're trustworthy, she's confident that you won't just drop her on the spot if someone even more attractive comes along, and she knows that she's also a pretty nice girlfriend herself!

We love a self-confident queen!

She'd take you to all her piano performances! If you don't like classical music... well, that's either going to change or you're going to be in for quite the ride.

If you told her you didn't like going to them, she'd get a little passive-aggressive for a bit - she loves you and doesn't want to make you do anything you don't want to, but at the same time, she feels a little like you don't care about her as much as she cares about you and that hurts her.

Kaede would also be VERY enthusiastic about anything you've got going on.

Sports? She goes to every game/practice and brings embarrassing signs!

Music? She watches every concert, listens to everything on repeat (even if it's not her favourite genre), and constantly asks to duet!

You get the idea, haha.

10/10, hand in marriage

Tenko

Literally your personal bodyguard.

Even before you two got together, she had a habit of following you around to make sure that you weren't going to get hurt and weren't being touched by any degenerates.

It could even dip into borderline stalking territory at some point.

It's just... she's Very protective, okay?

She just needs to keep you safe!

Even if you don't really need her protection...

If you're strong/into martial arts, you're her new favourite sparring partner!

Somehow both the complete opposite and exactly the same as Kaede when it comes to confessing.

It's obvious to everyone, no matter how dense they are, with how she acts and what she says!

"Here, do you want me to feed you? Because I can! If you-If you want! Ahhh, do you need me to get rid of these males? I... I can also do that!"

If you're a guy, her misandry definitely tones down. As much as Tenko can tone it down, at least. It's definately going to be a lot harder for your relationship to move along, though.

If you're a girl, it's going to be a lot easier for the two of you to get close. She'll be very adamant about keeping you away from keeping you away from her so-called "degenerate males". If you ask her to stop, she'll try her best, but it's going to take some time.

She'd probably end up only confessing on accident, lol.

You know that video where the person goes “I’m going to confess to you on valentines day”? That's probably her.

She'll have this whole script planned out, so it turns out perfect, but then she slips up and says... that.

Once you two officially start dating, she tries to teach you martial arts, so you can defend yourself even when she isn't there. Whether this succeeds or not... is up in the air.

She really likes to feed you for some reason...

Maybe she just likes feeling like she's doing something for you. Or maybe, she feels like you settled, and she wants you to at least feel better about it-

Yeah, she overthinks things a lot, and can be pretty insecure about if you even like her.

Pls comfort her even if she says she doesn't need it <333

Can get pretty jealous for that reason too X)

shes so SKRUNKLY

Miu (suggestive)

She's... a bit of a wreck.

But you knew that already.

She's probably going to be a bit of a tsundere - it'll get better over time but it'll never go away, and I think that's part of her charm!

She likes to hang around you, and likes when you sit with her while she's inventing, whether or not you understand what's going on.

I honestly hc that her main love language is quality time because it reassures her that you actually like her (whether that be platonic or romantic) instead of just liking her appearance or body.

She can have a bit of a hard time talking to you normally sometimes, since I also don't think she's ever had a relationship where the main focus was emotions and the two people actually really liked each other and not just for doing adult stuff.

So these new feelings of attraction are a bit new to her.

Because of this, I think she'd try a couple ways of "flirting" that only succeeded in making everyone uncomfortable.

That's obviously not the best way to go about it, but it's the only way she knows, so you'd have to tell her.

She thinks that you now hate her forever and probably hides from you. If she does see you she runs off, lmao. She's not the bravest girl.

You'd have to be the first one to confess. She would get really defensive at first and would probably take a while to accept it and realized that you liked her for her.

After you did get together, she'd always be making stuff to make your life easier.

"What do you mean 'that's a little unnecessary?' Babe, this gorgeous girl genius just invented THE solution to your daily problem of needing to find the correct amount of milk to put in your cereal, and it only takes up, what, five square feet!"

She might have a hard time defending herself, but she tries her best to defend you.

Is immediately up to throw down the moment she hears someone insult you lol.

Miu's also one of those people who's really academically smart but kind of stupid everywhere else.

So, you might need to help her with little things like cooking or apologizing.

She always makes it up to you, though - with yet another unnecessary invention XD.

Very jealous, and can get openly hostile with the person she thinks is about to sweep you off your feet. She really just loves you a lot, though, and thinks she knows that you can do so much better than her, though she'd never tell anyone that.

Maybe not the best with advice, but I think she could actually be a darn good listener when she wants to. Very good when you just need to vent + cuddle.

My precious little dumpster fire <3333

Sorry if that wasn't good enough/ooc, this was my first ask! Just tell me if you need a rewrite and I'll happily oblige :)

[dent-de-leon]

Personally I like to think that Molly's soul shard was just floating around the Astral Sea and managed to reconnect to the body, tying into Aabria/Deanna's description of her soul being like a snowflake that melted into an ocean. Molly's soul shard floating down so so gently like a snowflake and melting back into his old body. Struggling to separate itself from that vast Astral Sea. Idk, the visual of that is so ephemeral and delicious to me

aHHH Aabria's description of death and resurrection was so good and chilling, I find it just fascinating. And it's so interesting to think of Mollymauk in that context. It makes me wonder...does that mean Molly was this part of Lucien's soul that was able to endure as their own distinct entity, maintained just enough of a sense of self and identity to keep from getting swept away in the Astral Sea? Even if they still lost all their memories in the process? Lucien's will to live maybe, or his heart, some core part of him that was torn away, yet couldn't be broken.

I adore the image of Molly's soul as this drifting snowflake that flutters back down to Exandria, it's just...so very sweet and heartwarming to me. Reminds me of the latest episode when the Matron said, "The substance of the soul is forever. It will find its way." A little shard of a soul drifting through the Astral Sea, lost and wayward, but eventually finding their way back home.

I really like that, it feels so much more comforting than what I was thinking. I always found it interesting that Taliesin expected Mollymauk to be undead this whole time, and was surprised in the wrap up when Matt told him otherwise.

It always kinda made me feel like Taliesin expected Molly's resurrection to be unnatural--someone who wasn't truly alive, who was more akin to a Hollow One (I think Matt even mentioned he intended the Hollow Ones to be a red herring for Mollymauk's background...?) And the fact that Lucien died in the cursed Savalirwood and Molly was reborn under a Ruidus flare both struck me as very odd, I always wondered if they contributed to his resurrection in some way. (Or being fate touched. Or maybe even it was just the Moonweaver looking out for him--)

But I would just love to hear Taliesin talk more one day about?? What he initially assumed happened when Molly first woke up? I can't get over him saying that Molly was intended to be this tragic being without soul, like those old merfolk tales, this notion that, "I want a body where the soul left, and the body just kept moving. Whatever was in there got pulled out, and went to the Raven Queen. And they just kept walking, like a mermaid–no soul….just someone who was a total blank slate.”

It makes it all the more intriguing to me that Matt went in a completely different direction--Molly not undead, but alive. Perhaps feeling Empty at first, a shard of a soul, but a piece that was loved so much they became whole--

[morningstar-chronicles]

i woke up this morning and i saw ur face reveal but i was still half asleep so i fully thpught i was dreaming till i woke up just now and saw everyone else saying you DID do a face reveal so this is actually me saying HI YOURE SO PRETTY !?;?4!$*???

AHHH TY 🫶 that is hilarious i love it so much 😭😭

[antlerclxws]

AHHH YOU CHANGED YOUR PFP IT LOOKS SO CUTE

Malia Baker our babyyyyy

YESS MALIA OUR BABYYY

I changed it so it matches like my discord and stuff !! I love it sm AND TY OMG I FRGOT TO ADD (I just woke up from a nap)

[shinysparklesapphires]

Sapphy tbh I just woke up but I just saw your new ocs and can I say YOUR BECOMING SUCH A GOOD ARTIST I loved your art before but the way the characters look is super cute 10/10 AHHH ITS SO PRETTY (if this ask is a mess just blame the fact I just woke up from A nap)

UWAAA TY HARU QWQ

[katana-zero]

TUMBLR USER GAMMANULLZERO I LOVE YOU

Hold on let me try to answer to all of your tags dkdmmfmmc I woke up this morning and it was the first thing I saw AAHHH

Also sorry english is not my first language so I might struggle with some sentences!! (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

I'M GLAD THAT THIS PIC CAPTURED HER WELL 🥹🥹🥹 I wanted to draw something chill because!!! Well!!! She is chill!!

TY I love when people like my coloring (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

I LOVE YOUR MIND

I think actually he would feel trouble feeling anything. He'd probably regret killing kids if he ever done that (because of LG) but otherwise I think he wouldn't feel anything. At first I thought that he'd feel alive, since canonically he feels alive only when taking someone else's life, but I'm not sure he'd feel anything just watching the record.

Or he'd feel the stinging feeling of regret, if church monologue is actually his (I have a theory that it's actually Fifteen's thoughts, but I'm not really sure so!! Just a fun thought) and he felt bad watching all those people cry.

Or he'd feel everything at once like one big complicated feeling (⁠*⁠﹏⁠*⁠;⁠) I don't know how to describe it.

THANK YOU!!! 🥹🥹🥹

I love SnowHunter SO MUCH my favourite lesbians. They have me in chokehold since I first thought about them I just. Need more of them in my life.

I think Snow uses something similar to chronos! Like that green thing Psych used in boss fight. He mentioned that the government created more than just one drug for war, so it's safe to assume that she will most likely use something similar. Or it might be something that organization Snow works for created, since they somehow recreated chronos. I hope we'll see what she uses in the dlc 🙏

I LOVE USING RED THANK YOU SM

🥹 jsjxjjsk Zero and Fifteen cuddling Leviathan and Behemoth... The eepies

Fifteen stop being mad just hug a biblical creation bro chill out

:3 I love drawing Zero with a scruff, I'm glad someone else likes it too!

Fifteen katana zero I need you Fifteen katana zero

AHHH I'M SO HAPPY YOU NOTICED THE EFFECT!! I like drawing it on my artworks with nulls because it shows how their time is running out yk yk (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ mentally ill guys

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ALL THE FEEDBACK I LOVE YOUUU AGHHHHHH

YAYYYYYY IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE ALL OF THESE!!! I GOT A FEW THINGS TO SAY BACK

ykw ykw. i think he'd feel so much about everything that he'd just go numb. his normal blank expression on his face but somehow even more unreadable than normal. idk if he'd be able to feel anything after that. him feeling "alive" while killing is just him feeling like he's actually having an effect on the world around him yk? that's how he was raised, a child soldier. but losing your memories of that and then running with the mindset that only the lives of criminals and corrupt police deserve less value only to see yourself killing children? beings that physically cannot have less value because they have so much more life ahead of them? brooooo brooooooooo he's done for he's donneeee. I really like the theory that the monologue is from fif instead of zero too- and it makes sense! fifteen has such strong connections to his past that of course he'd have such strong thoughts about what it was like. zero for sure could say it himself but he's so warped about whats real and not that i dont think he could form that strong of an opinion (and if it IS his thoughts then its just what psych planted in his head)

SPEAKING OF PSYCH im pretty sure the green mega chronos or whatever the psych uses was confirmed to be not actually canon and (speculation from here) just a hallucination from zero's end considering the path to getting that boss is just by pissing him off. BUT but but i do think her amping herself up on the fake chronos that the company is making is soooo real. i hope we see in the dlc god ugh. either way i definitely gotta draw some snowhunter myself since i havent stopped thinking about it.

anyway YEAHHHHH RUNNING OUT OF TIMEEEEEEE. i loveeee how subtle it is in your art but also directly staring you in the face. youre soooo good at it !!!!!

[livcosmos]

Chain of Thorns Booktalk

Omg… I finished it last night and I was fairly convinced that I won’t write this… but the first thing on my mind this morning when I woke up was something I read on Cassie's Tumblr, that she thought of ending the book with James on his deathbed waiting to go over to the other side to meet with his friends who have parted long before him.. that broke my heart. I woke up with that feeling I just can’t handle death and the thought of James being the last one to die it just….the thought that they all die eventually... I know the book didn’t actually end like that but it almost did and ahhh it made me think of Will’s death and Tessa and how…well you know it all already there is no need for me to open that wound again. I realized I couldn’t just leave it without saying anything, I owe this to all the tears I shed for these characters, this story, and to my younger self who fell in love with them in the first place, so here we are…

In case you didn’t get it by now I’m upset, I’m ok with how it ended but then I’m also not because this isn’t an ending it is so OPEN I… I have to be honest I went into reading this book thinking it will be the last Cassie book I read, and that was for various reasons. I said I won’t read the Wicked Powers because firstly I don’t really like Ty (I like him but I just I’m not there for him being the main storyline) and then there is Jem and Tessa I can’t bear seeing Jem age and eventually die...I don’t want anyone I love so badly to get hurt and die I don’t want to know how everything goes to shit and the Shadowhunter world gets destroyed or something. That is why I had some expectations from this book, I needed closure, a nice wrap-up that also would wrap up my time with this word but nooooooo…. but who am I kidding I also said I won't read this trilogy and then I did sooo I will probably also break and read the Wicked Powers, we will have to wait and see but still. I am glad that Cassie is taking a break because that means she hasn't written anything that would eventually kill me, and I am not tempted to read anything I won't like just yet.

I can’t believe I’m saying this but this must be my least favourite final book she has ever written, don’t get me wrong I loved and enjoyed reading it but I am so upset with ahhh everything… I have to start with the most obvious thing and that is well the family tree!!!! I need that accurate family tree I just need it in order to be able to sleep well at night just pleseeee!!!! I was so convinced that we were finally going to get it in this book but noooo aaahhh it’s so messed up and come on the Esme Hardcastle thing… is just an easy answer to a burning complicated question!!! I CAN’T! I need to know!!!! That was what probably upset me the most in this book, well of course besides… Christopher I didn’t see it coming…It took me by surprise…I was so convinced that Matthew was going to die… if you read my other booktalks you know that Matthew is my love he is behind Jem my second book love ever…and I would have been upset if he died but it just made more sense to kill him and till the moment Christopher died every second I was afraid that Math was going to die… Someone needed to die and ahhhhhh come on!!! I was living by that family tree, that he and Grace were going to get together and ah…bless him he had such a pure soul and was so kind and he didn’t deserve to die and let me tell you I was sure he was going to come back I didn’t want to accept his death I was convinced he wasn’t actually dead because he had to live in order to get with Grace and carry the Lightwood line…oh man I cried when he died but I cried even more when he appeared to encourage Grace with the fire messages … my God! I know I hated Grace but I felt so sorry for her and I just it was so emotional…they won’t get their happy ending it’s just heartbreaking. I never thought I would say this but I am ok with Grace now she suffered enough and there is no need or reason for me to hate on her anymore. Omg of course we also have to acknowledge here how amazing it is that Christopher invited the fire messages like omg!!! And can we please give everyone from the infernal devices a break they have already been through so much… first Gideon and Sophie lose a child and now Cecily and Gabriel? What is this? Ahhh… let’s get back to my Matthew…so I knew he wasn’t going to end up with Cordelia it was more than obvious but I said it before and I am going to say it again…I wanted it to happen so bad it just…Paris omg their trip there is my absolute dream!!! And of course, I was a little upset with Matthew for lying but ah I can’t be mad at him! Do you want to know what my favourite scene in the whole book was? The scene where the Marry Theves all came to take care of Matthew when he was sick! It was such a beautiful scene and ah…to have such good friends…I cried so much it made me so emotional and then with the knowledge that was the last time when they were all together is just …. so sad!!! And I also cried when Cordelia told Math that she doesn’t love him…I …I was looking so forward to that Christmas party and then Cordelia girl you had to do that! I, mean yeah she had to but ahhhh my poor baby! I was screaming at him that I love him and that he doesn’t need Cordelia! I’m sad that he didn’t get to be with anyone at the end but I guess that’s better he needs to heal completely before he can get into a relationship. Ah and he is going on a long trip… the ending made me so sad, that they are all going in different directions… I mean yeah they will reunite eventually but ahhh so sad… I also cried when they buried Jesse's coffin, the time capsule, that had me so in tears omg! It just isn’t an end, she left so many doors open, I need more especially of Matthew!!! Ah and Jesse and Lucie that also is like a massive open door I get that they are together but they are not married yet and… I just need that freaking family tree!!! 

Before we move on I have to say one more thing about Matthew, he is like a version of Will I feel like he resembles him so much in his personality and actions and I feel like Matthew was my second chance to make Will my number one love in a book because Jem was my number one in the Infernal Devices and even though I love Will with all my health I love Jem more. And here I love James but I love Matthew more and while Matthew is like Will in a way, James is a little like Jem but I guess I always make poor choices because well Matthew kind of got Jem’s fate. I am not ready to let him go because unlike Jem he won't eventually get his happy ending with Cordelia because let’s be honest the Matthew, Cordelia, and James love triangle never really was a triangle it was just there for drama. Nothing in this world will ever compare to the Will, Tessa, and Jem love triangle and the love they have for each other, and the love I have for them! (By the way, the Jem chapter at the end also had me tearing up because well… Jem) Yeah well, Matthew I love you! I am happy that he is doing better and that he talked to his parents (and omg Charlotte?! TWINS?! I’m so excited) I want him to be happy and I just bought an Oscar Wilde book in order to keep him a little longer with me, because I am not ready to let him go just yet! James and Cordelia…. I love them but OMG the amount of miscommunication…the frustration they put me through…I can’t believe that Grace had to be the one who told Cordelia about the bracelet because James over here couldn’t bring himself to do it! Omg! Thank you, Grace! It was so frustrating my God! I love them together always and I can’t say how glad I am they finally talked to each other! OMG can I please say that Alaister and Thomas carried this book? They were so cute and Thomas omg bless him he is such a cutie with his "Shut up Thomas” and his overthinking and Alaister grew so much …I am so happy that he has changed so much and that he is now officially part of the group and that he and Matthew are ok (even though I would have liked an official apology) and oh how he came to help Matthew bless him!!!

Moving on I don’t know if there is any need to say anything about Tatiana… but Malcolm oh my I can’t believe all the trouble he caused in the present originated here that is just wild!

Oh, I forgot to mention that I love the friendship between Jesse and James, their scenes together, and the bond they have developed in such a short time … fantastic! Ah, I don’t really know what else to say really… I am happy with this but then I am so not... I just…need that damn tree!!! It felt so good to watch Christine's booktalk because she was just as frustrated about not having a tree as I am, it felt really good to know that I am not the only one. I don’t want to let this book, this world go, I need more but having more will come at a great cost I’m not sure I am ready to pay. I just love them all so much and they have been with me for such a long time…it’s hard!

Anyway, thank you for reading, comparing this to the other booktalks this is a really short one but again there is not much to say because this wasn’t the end!

[satoruhour]

hii i hope ur headache gets better soon 😞 <3

also im literally in love with ur recent geto post i need to consume it and make it part of my dna omg. I WOULD WRITE A LONG REBLOG BUT I JUST WOKE UP AND JM TIRED 😭😭

love u lots + good luck with ur headache <3

also this is completely unrelated but i just remembered that the cloud emoji exists. ITSBDO CUTE. ☁️ look at that. ☁️☁️ its so fluffy omg

AHHH my headache’s still here unfortunately, a little dull but ill be okay :3 ty for ur concern ily

AAHHH and ty im so happy u like it hehehe AND JTS OKKK hearing u like it already makes me so happy :DDD but fr i do need brothers bsf geto in my dna too. need him in ME as well

STOPVURE SO CUTE LMALAOAAO but yes the cloud emoji is so cute ☁️!! so soft ☁️ also i love this blowing lady ... idk its so ... greek goddess for some reason 🌬️

[kaidabakugou]

MAEEEE IM FKN SPEECHLESS RNNN i’m so glad you liked itttt so much!

tyyyyy for your comment on the descriptions of everything i really wanted it to feel real all around so ty for picking up on thattt!🥺

AND AHHH OMG you love star anise!!!???? i love it as welllll i was using some yesterday for the coquito i told you i was making and kept smelling it before i used it 🤣

OWNSJJWNS YOUR REACTIONS HAVE ME GRINNING SO HARD RN AND DONT APOLOGIZEEEE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!

i just woke up from a nap and seeing this just made my entire week, i was so excited for you to read this one!! TYTYTYYYY FOR THISSSS! GIVING YOU THE BIGGEST WARMEST HUGGG RN ILYYY!! 🥺🧡💜💖

❅ DAY 3: OIL MASSAGE FT. KATSUKI BAKUGOU

❅ WORD COUNT: 4K

❅ WARNINGS: SENSUAL MASSAGE / DUB-CON / ORAL SEX / NIPPLE PLAY / BODY WORSHIP / TEASING / LICKING / BITING / MARKING / UNPROTECTED SEX / CREAMP PIE / LMK IF I MISSED ANY <3

❅ AUTHOR'S NOTE: pretend i posted this 2 days ago :) but anyways here’s day three of 12 days of christmas, i know i said the event would be drabbles and short fics but i had so much fun writing this one that it turned into a long fic, hope you enjoy! <3

❅ 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

it was cold and dark as gray clouds loomed heavily above the busy streets of the city. quickly making your way across the sidewalk as you spot your destination just around the corner, silently begging that you can get there before the skies start pouring. this week has been stressful enough and walking in the rain would only add to your frustration.

the holidays have always been a busy time, and although you enjoyed all the activities that came with this season, you couldn't argue how taxing all the hassle was. which is why you decided to give yourself an early christmas gift by booking a full body oil massage to help you destress and relax.

whispering a small “made it'' under your breath when you finally reach the glass doors of the building and step inside, just in time as you look back and notice small droplets of water starting to fall against the glass. the massage parlor you've visited before was booked so after doing a bit of research you found that this one had great reviews and managed to get an appointment that fit your schedule perfectly.

the place was more welcoming than you imagined, the space was lit by a soft light and candles were distributed around the room, some of them scented creating a relaxing atmosphere. your attention is shifted when a tall redhead behind the front desk welcomes you with a friendly smile, dressed in a tight white shirt that shows his pectorals nicely, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at his large muscles while he was busy searching your name in the system.

shooting you another toothy smile as he guides you towards the back, opening the door for you to another room with a similar atmosphere as the lobby, and handing you a soft robe as he instructs you to take off all your clothes and get comfortable while you wait for the masseuse to come service you. thanking him as he shoots you a wink with the same charming smile before he exits the room to give you some privacy.

stripping your clothes and setting them neatly at a nearby desk as you lace the warm robe around your body, walking around the room while you wait as you take in the soft music playing in the background. inhaling a deep breath when the rich smell from the candles fills your senses, picking up one of the unlit candles as you bring it up to your nose to smell it before flipping it over to see the scent notes, already imagining what some of them are since the unique scent of palo santo has been engulfing you ever since you stepped inside the building. combined with the rich smell of cinnamon and star anise that has your body already feeling relaxed the more you breathe in the spiced fragrances.

the door opening behind you pulls you from your trance as you look over towards it, your eyes meeting with the most alluring vermilion irises you've ever seen, as a tall blonde steps inside the room, wearing the same white shirt as the redhead and some white loose pants as he closes the door behind him. giving you a small smile before introducing himself and telling you he would be your masseuse for the day. he said his name was bakugou, and you couldn't help but repeat it in your head as you took in his broad shoulders and wide muscles straining against the tight shirt.

“you like that scent?”he asks, pointing at the candle in your hands.

“yeah!, i already feel relaxed just breathing it in”, you chuckle while placing the candle back where you got it from.

“good to hear it, you ready to start?”, he asks while pulling some towels from the towel warmer and placing them on the massage table.

“mhm”, you hum as you make your way towards the table.

“great, please take off your robe and lie down while i get the oils ready”, he instructs before turning around to give you some space while he grabs the oils and materials from the shelf. you remove your robe and lay downwards on the table, lacing the warm towel over your rear before adjusting your head to lay more comfortably on the table as you let your arms rest by your sides.

“okay, just relax and let me know if anything, yeah?”, he says while placing a bowl of warm oil next to you.

“okay”, you say before taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, focusing on the relaxing music in the background and the soft sound of rain falling against the window while you wait for him to begin the massage.

dipping his fingers in the oil as he hovers them above your spine, feeling warm droplets fall against your skin before strong warm hands spread the oil across your skin, kneading at your sore muscles as more oil is drizzled along your shoulders. biting your lip to prevent the moan that threatens to spill from your lips the more he massages your skin, rubbing away all the stress accumulated on your muscles as he makes his way towards your lower back. drizzling more oil on your lower spine before working the area gently but firmly, his fingers brushing just above your cheeks under the warm towel before tracing your sides to make his way back towards your shoulders. slowly trailing down your arms as he laces his fingers with yours, working your hands and releasing the tension before making his way back up to your neck.

the sweet smell of almond oil mixing in with the spiced fragrance of the candles the more he lathers it on your skin. moving towards your bottom as droplets of oil fall against the back of your thighs, dropping along the length of your legs all the way down towards your feet before you feel his large hands against your skin. his digits working the stress on the soles of your feet as he works his way up to your thighs. his fingers ghosting against the inside of your thighs making your breath hitch in your throat, the warm towel against your rear feeling too revealing all of a sudden as he keeps working the area.

this was nothing new to you since you've gotten massages in the past, but there was something about the way he expertly kneaded at your skin and how he worked every sore spot on your body with such ease that it had your head spinning. so much so that you barely register the feeling of the warm towel being slipped down from your rear as he starts to work your cheeks, dipping both of his hands inside the warm oil before massaging your glutes in circular motions. cupping your rear and lifting it softly as he continues working your skin.

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to stop the moans building against your throat from slipping out as he spreads your glutes apart slightly and laces his fingers through them before rounding the outer glutes and repeating the action. releasing how your breaths begin to quicken and get heavier the more his hands massaged your skin. returning from your hypnotic state when you suddenly feel them lift away from your skin.

“flip over for me, sweetheart”, you hear him say near your ear, his voice much lower than when he previously spoke to you as he grabs a new warm towel from the warmer. turning around with your eyes still closed as you lay on your back, exposing the front of your body to him. feeling a fresh warm towel being placed against your eyes, a subtle smell of lavender engulfing your scenes as you take another deep inhale, pushing the fact that you're naked in front of him to the back of your mind as you relax against the cushioned table.

feeling warm oil being dribbled against your chest, hearing him dip his hand in the bowl again as he poured the oil down your abdomen, over your pelvis and down your legs before his hands went back to work the skin in a methodical and hypnotizing manner. every frustration melting away with each knead from his fingers against your muscles as you started to feel heavier and warmer.

his large hands trailed up towards your neck, working the sides with his knuckles before he trailed down and circled your chest. cupping your tits with slippery hands as his fingers grazed against your nipples, gently pulling them between his digits. the sensation made your chest rise and fall a little heavier and your thighs twitch as you felt your clit start to pulse. an action that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde above you, smirking as he continued to knead at your chest before slowly trailing along your curves down to your pelvis.

dipping both of his hands in the oil again, collecting a small puddle of it and pouring it onto your lower abdomen, the oil dripping through your folds and pooling under you on the table as his hands start to massage along the area. circling your thighs whilst his fingers graze against your cunt, the slick forming on your pussy mixing with the oil as your breaths get heavier. his digits finally bruising through your folds cause the moan you've been holding back to spill from your mouth as your lower back slightly arches off the table.

a hand rubbing against your clit as the other spreads your legs wider for him, even though you knew this was wrong, his fingers felt too good for you to form a coherent thought. too caught in your own pleasure to notice the slight dip on the table between your legs, the feeling of a wet tongue licking a long strip on the length of your cunt making you sit up on your elbows as more moans erupt from your chest. pulling the warm towel from your face as your eyes meet his sultry red ones, already looking back at you whilst he continues to lap at your cunt.

the half of his face already glistening with the mixture of slick and oil from your body, his fingers trailing up to your chest as he pulls your nipples between his digits. tongue circling around your clit before sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth, feeling yourself get closer to the edge as your hand stretches down to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, pressing his deeper into your cunt while lightly grinding your hips against his tongue when he lays it flat against your folds. your thighs shaking at his sides as you cum on his tongue, wrapping his lips around your cunt to lap up your release, not waiting a single drop as he swallows the sweet taste of your juices mixed with the oil.

“feeling relaxed yet, sweetheart?”, he asked, resting his head on your inner thigh whilst his thumb drags slow lines against your sensitive cunt.

“you do this to all your clients?”, you ask back through heavy pants while staring down at him.

“nah, just couldn't resist myself”, he says, smirking up at you while starting to lift from between your thighs.

“such pretty skin” he whispers against your warm skin before placing a kiss on your stomach.

“nice curves”, another kiss on the valley of your breast.

“gorgeous face”, he mumbles against your collar bones before pressing his tongue against the delicate skin of your throat, licking a long stripe all the way up to your chin as you lean your head back to give him access before facing him again.

“and a tasty pussy to go along with it…”, he whispers against your lips while staring deep into yours, “... how could i resist?”, noticing your lips curving into a smirk as he mirrors the action before pulling you into a messy kiss.

the oil from his face transferring onto yours as you continue devouring each other while your fingers curve along the bottom of his tight shirt as you start to pull it off him. breaking the kiss momentarily to discard the piece of clothing before pulling you in for another. pressing your hand to his bare chest as you push him down on the table without removing your lips from his, your fingers lacing along the waistline of his pants as you start to pull them down. leaning back on his forearms, bakugou lifts his hips off the table to help you take them off before discarding the garment. smiling at the pleasant surprise that he didn't have any underwear on and he'd been massaging your naked body with only a thin layer of fabric separating you.

reaching over towards the bowl of warm oil as you dip your hand inside of it, slowly pouring oil on his already erect cock whilst you start to slowly pump his length.

“isn't that my job, sweetheart?” he teases while spreading his legs further to give you more access.

“you took care of me, now it's your turn to relax and let me take of you”, your voice dripping in honey as you lower yourself towards his cock, circling his tip with your tongue while staying on your knees as you arch your back further, displaying the curve of your rear to him whilst sucking his cock further into your mouth. taking your time as you slowly move up and down his cock while your oiled hands twist around him with a firm grip.

his fingers tangling with your hairs as he brushes them behind your ear before resting his hand around your scalp, his digits scraping against your nape while he groans above you. “that's it, right there…”, he whispers as you feel his thighs clench beside you. “... fuuck that's it, suck the tip, baby”, following his orders as you lean your head back to only have your lips wrapped around his mushroom tip. sucking on it while flicking your tongue against his slit while your hands continue to jerk his slippery cock.

his fingers tighten against you as you feel his dick twitch in your grasp, reaching his climax as hot spurts of cum fill your mouth. the salty taste of his release combined with the sweet mixture of the oil making your eyes roll as you moan around his pulsing tip, swallowing every last drop as you continue sucking on it. stopping only when he gently tugs at your scalp from the overstimulation, placing a kiss on his swollen tip before leaning back to look up at his blissed-out expression while you lazily rub his length.

hooded eyes staring back at you while he catches his breath, throwing you a smirk between panting lips as you feel his fingers rub soft circles against your scalp. “come here”, he exhales while his other hand comes to rest at the side of your face, cradling it while lifting you towards him. resting your hands on his muscular thighs as he pulls you into a kiss, a much softer one in contrast to the heated one you first had.

your breaths mixing together when you pull back as you get lost in the red pools of his eyes, looking back at you like you're the most precious thing in the world when you only met him a few hours ago. the realization making your eyes dart towards the clock at the edge of the table in the corner of the room, noticing how you've stayed way past the time of your appointment.

“i should probably get going”, you say, meeting his eyes again.

“why the rush?”, he whispers back at you, his thumbs rubbing against your temples as if he'd done so countless times before.

“don't you have other clients?”, you ask with frowned eyebrows.

“shitty hair will take care of them”.

“shitty hair?”, you ask confused.

“the redhead at the front desk”, you laugh a little when you realize who he's talking about as you raise your hands to rest against his wrists while he continues to cradle your face.

“what's so funny, huh?”, he asks while giving you a puzzled look.

“nothing, it's just his hair it’s not that different from yours though”, you say between chuckles, releasing a louder laugh when you see his surprised face.

“pretty and snarky, huh… gonna have to get you back for that one”, he protests as his hands trail down your sides to rest at your hips as he guides you back down on the table.

settling between your legs as you rest them above his outer thighs. grabbing the bowl of oil as he tilts it over your cunt, pouring what's left of the warm oil over you before trailing up towards your chest. fisting his cock before he presses it against your cunt, gently rocking back and forth as he rubs it between your folds, teasing you as you feel yourself get wetter every time his cock grazes over your clit.

“you want this cock, gorgeous?”, he teases while his fingers trail up to your chest, cupping your breast in his large hands as his digits flick against your slippery nipples. arching into his touch as a moan vibrates in your throat while you frantically nod your head at him.

“yeah?, beg for it then”, setting your pride aside as you desperately beg for him to fuck you.

“please, bak-”.

“katsuki”, he cuts you off.

“katsuki, p-please”, a grin spreads across his face as he slides his cock down to align himself with you. a wave of pleasure hitting you as he shoves his length inside you in one swift thrust, not giving you time to adjust as he sets a steady pace. leaning down to lick your sensitive buds, sucking one into his mouth while his digits flick the other before his tongue trails a long, wet stripe towards your neck, leaving open mouth kisses along your side and below your chin until his hands comes to rest against the side of your face to pull you in a fervent kiss.

feeling the knot inside your stomach form again the more he thrusts into you, as your nails trail up against his back to rest against his shoulder blades, leaving red lines in their wake. his other hand gives your nipple a final tug before reaching down in between your bodies to rub messy circles against your clit. the overwhelming sensation of his tongue tangled with yours and his cock ramming against your walls with the added stimulation of his fingers on your erect bud sending you over the edge as you gush all over him. your release soaking both of you as he continues thrusting into you, fighting against the tight clenching of your pussy as he chases his own release.

feeling your wet tongue drag along the side of his neck all the way up to his earlobe as you suck it into your mouth, circling his piercing inside your mouth before pulling back to trail back down to the crook of his neck as you sink your teeth into his skin, hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin. the feeling of your tongue sending shivers down his spine and the added sting of your teeth catching him off guard, making his eyes roll back as he buries his cock deep inside your cunt. filling your pussy with his release as it starts to spill through the sides of your cunt, your juices mixing together as he empties his balls inside of you.

collapsing on top of you as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, your warm bodies melting into each other with the mixture of oil and sweat as you both catch your breaths while clinging to one another. placing kisses on your neck while you place them on his shoulder before he lifts his head to press his lips against yours, leaning back to admire your blissed out look while threading his fingers through your hair, his nails gently massaging your scalp with each swipe of his hand.

“am i gonna see you again?” he whispers against your lips as his eyes stare deep into yours as he waits for your answer. adoration mixed with a hint of fear that he misinterpreted this entire situation, and you won't return his advances.

“i hope so”, you chuckle back at him. relieve settling into his chest at your words as he smiles back at you before pressing his lips to yours again. a soft knock on the door interrupts you, making him grunt against you whilst you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your giggles.

a muffled “everything okay?” sounds behind the door before bakugou responds to dismiss the redhead. releasing your chuckles when he buries his face in your neck again with a heavy sigh, neither of you wanting to part from each other’s warmth just yet as you stay wrapped against the other a while longer. his cock still inside you as your cunt leaks onto the table below you while your fingers thread through his blonde spikes, scratching gentle circles on his nape while his digits rub behind your ear, reveling in each other’s presence before you have to clean up and part ways.

sending you off with another kiss at the door of the massage room as he hands you a small bag with the candle you were smelling earlier before giving your rear a small slap as you make your way down the hall and back to the lobby. wondering if the pretty redhead at the front desk heard your moans all the way over to the front, spotting him standing by the shelves in the corner next to the front desk organizing some of the incense the parlor had displayed throughout the establishment, shooting you that same toothy smile as you smile back at him.

“everything to your liking?”, he asks while grabbing one of the boxes of the incense.

“definitely, thank you so much for squeezing me in”, you answer him while making your way towards the exit.

“oh, before you leave, here you go…”, he says while handing you the incense box in his hands.

“a little something as a thank you for choosing our parlor”, he adds while telling you his name, scratching the back of his head as he realizes he should've done it earlier. laughing at how this giant of a man has the sweetest personality, thanking him before you say your goodbyes. smiling to yourself when you pretend not to notice the bulge in his pants, confirming your suspicion that kirishima probably heard the whole thing, excited to make your next appointment at the parlor to see his reaction as you make your way back home.

finally relaxing against some warm blankets as you open the bag that bakugou gave you, smelling the incense that kirishima gifted you first as you laugh while thinking back on everything that occurred. the mixture of the sweet scent of frankincense combined with the earthy notes of myrrh fill your nostrils as you close your eyes while the fragrance floods your senses, a moan building in your throat the more you smell it before setting it aside for later.

grabbing the candle you fell in love with back at the parlor as you open it, eager to smell it again but before you can bring it to your nose you notice something inside of it. picking a small piece of paper from the top of the wick as you set the candle down to open it, grinning to yourself as you find a phone number written on it with the message “call me” below it and a badly scribbled heart right next to it. picking your phone from your bedside table as you dial the numbers on the paper, bringing it up to your ear as it rings while biting the nail of your thumb in anticipation before you hear the line on the other end pick up.

“took you long enough, sweetheart… thought you'd never call”.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 29, Story #1 is by @floreatcastellumposts

Title: In Vino Veritas Author/Artist: Floreatcastellum Pairing: Gen (Harry - Molly platonic/parent-child) Prompt: In Vino Veritas Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Heavy alcohol consumption, mild language.  Molly Weasley was not stupid, and was well aware that young men enjoyed going out and getting drunk. She was not even particularly opposed to it - in principle - and she had to admit that she was very relieved to see George so excited about something. He hadn’t been excited in several long months.

‘Just don’t be too silly,’ she told him.

‘Us? Silly?’ he said, affronted.

‘I mean it, things might be safer but you’re all still targets - especially Harry, he needs to be particularly aware-’

‘I think he is more than aware that people out there want him dead. What he needs is a lot of alcohol to forget that.’

‘No, George.’

She knew he was winding her up, but she also knew that they were planning a big night out, because Ron and Harry had never really had one before, and in all honesty as much as she couldn’t help her disapproval, she did also feel that it was a shame they had missed out on such a rite of passage.

All the same, since George had let it slip, she knew she was going to worry, and her way of coping with that twisting, maternal anxiety was to insist that after their night out they returned, not to the flat in Diagon Alley they shared, but to the Burrow so that she could make them a full English in the morning.

She had also intended to stay up waiting for them, and to call the Law Enforcement Patrol if they were not back by half one to go and search for them, just in case something terrible had happened. But it was an awfully cold Halloween, and so she had got into bed next to Arthur so that she could have the warmth of the duvet, propped herself up against the headboard, and started knitting. The next thing she knew, she was being woken by an almighty crash.

‘Oh, fuck!’

‘Wahey!’

Both Molly and Arthur had already grabbed their wands in a panic before they heard their son’s exasperated voice.

‘Get up - get up, you idiot - George, hold him - oh for crying out loud-’

‘RON-’

‘Ssh! Don’t shout-’

‘Get him some water-’

‘He needs more than water - ahhh I have a brilliant idea-’

‘No, you don’t, whatever it is, abandon it-’

‘HEY, WOW, LOOK AT-’

‘SSH!’

‘That’ll be the boys back, then,’ said Arthur, turning on the bedside lamp and giving her a wry smile. The clock on the table said that it was approaching three in the morning.

‘Sounds like it, what on earth is all the shouting about?’ she asked, pulling on her dressing gown. Tying the cord tightly about her waist and slipping her feet into slippers, she listened to the commotion echoing up the stairs, and tried to figure out what exactly they were doing.

She could hear snorting laughter as she descended the creaking stairs, and Ron’s voice again, sounding remarkably grown up, saying, ‘don’t encourage him, stop it - put that down-’

She could hear saucepans clattering and tins falling, and the hissing spit of the gas; she looked over her shoulder to exchange a bewildered look with Arthur. ‘Are they cooking?’ she whispered, though there was no need, because there was no chance of them hearing her above the noise of George hooting.

‘Beans on toast, beans on toast!’

‘BEANS ON TOAST!’ came Harry’s echo.

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up, both of you, shut-’

‘BEANS ON TOAST!’

Molly had heard enough; she threw open the kitchen door so violently that George jumped and threw an open tin of baked beans several feet into the air. They landed with an impressive splatter across the slate floor. Harry, meanwhile, reached for his wand, but had instead seized a loaf of bread which he now brandished threateningly as he leaned against the counter. Ron had frozen in the middle of filling a glass of water, which now flowed over his hand. All three of them were still streaked with smears of paint from what she assumed were their Halloween costumes.

‘What on earth is going on in here?’ she demanded loudly.

Ron gave a heavy, exaggerated sigh. ‘You woke Mum and Dad,’ he told George and Harry pointlessly.

Harry lowered the bread, and held it sheepishly in both hands, like a child with a toy. George, in a carrying, apologetic whisper, said, ‘...sorry. We’re a bit drunk. Go back to bed.’

‘We can see that,’ said Arthur. ‘Harry,’ he added sharply. ‘What’s wrong with your foot?’

‘Oh, I… I fell on it. It doesn’t matter.’

‘He was dancing on a table!’ exclaimed George, with an accusatory point.

‘I wasn’t dancing, I was standing-’

‘Look at the state of you all!’ she said furiously, as Arthur calmly went over to Harry and guided him, hobbling, to a kitchen chair. ‘So irresponsible-’

‘I’m not that bad!’ said Ron defensively, and in truth Molly was rather surprised and a little proud at how he was being the responsible adult of the group, but there was no denying the heavy slurring, and the slight sway as he towered above her.

'You're not going to lose your bones,' she could hear Arthur saying reassuringly.

‘Mum,’ George was saying urgently, ‘Mum, can you make us beans on toast?’

‘No I will not make you beans on flipping toast! I’ll make you breakfast at a reasonable hour, right now you need to-’

‘Molly,’ Arthur called, ‘Molly, I think we’ll need some Skele-gro-’

‘Noooo - no, Mr Weasley, it’s fine, look, I can-’

Arthur gave a horrified yelp. ‘Don’t do that!’

‘I’ll get it,’ said Ron loudly, and, weaving erratically, he crossed the room to the Healing kit on top of the cupboards.

‘Mum,’ George continued, ‘if I hover up those beans, they’ll be all right, won’t they? Ten second rule, and if I let them boil for a bit?’

In short, it was chaos. Noisy, drunken chaos. In truth, she found it rather amusing, though it was still equally easy to frown and scowl at them. Somehow, and she could not muddle through the boys drunken logic, rooms were assigned and she found herself - and, again, she could not quite see how she had ended up in this situation, guiding Harry into Ron’s attic room and trying to help him into pyjamas. She had noticed before that Harry was a little more open, a little more affectionate, when he’d had a drink, but she had never quite seen him drunk before, and though the first time he had stopped her on the way up the stairs so he could hug her had been rather endearing, by this point she was getting rather fed up.

‘Mrs Weasley,’ said Harry loudly. ‘Mrs Weasley - I-’

‘Come on, dear,’ she said, more grumpily than she had ever spoken to him before.

‘I love you so much, Mrs Weasley-’

Her heart melted in an instant, she tried very hard to hide her smile, continuing to hold out the pyjama top. ‘You need to get into bed, dear.’

‘I love this whole family-’

‘That’s very sweet, Harry,’ she said patiently.

‘Bes’ family in the world-'

‘All right…’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ he slurred, and, though he was usually a very shy boy, he pulled his shirt off over his head, knocking his glasses half off in the process.

She looked politely away, but a few muttered swearwords made her look back, and, with a tut, she proceeded to help him untangle himself from the twisted shirt. ‘Hold still - this arm this way- that’s it-’

She had never realised just how covered in scars he was. On his chest, his arm…

The shirt fell to the floor, and she caught his glasses as they tumbled off his ear, and set them on the windowsill. When she turned back, he had one arm in the pyjama shirt, but was missing the other arm and twisting dramatically to try and get at it.

‘Silly boy, here you are,’ she said, helping him, and he started telling her thank you, over and over and over again. When it came to the pyjama bottoms, he seemed to realise that she was there, and gain a sense of shame, and he loudly asked her to turn away and not look, but when she went to the door to leave him to it, he shouted again.

‘No - no wait - Mrs Weasley don’t go, just don’t look - hang on-’

Finally, after the sounds of heavy, staggering hopping and a few more muttered swear words, she said, ‘can I look now?’ and he mumbled an agreement.

‘Oh, no, where are are my glasses?’ he asked, as she guided him to the bed. He sounded very worried.

‘They’re on the windowsill, and look-’ She pointed her wand at the bedside table, and a large jug of water and a glass appeared. ‘You’ve got water, and in a few hours you’ll have some food too, you just need to sleep some of this off. All right, dear?’

He collapsed heavily onto the bed. ‘You’re like the mum I never had,’ he mumbled into the mattress. ‘Mrs Weasley. My aunt never was this kind. Wish I’d been here all ‘long.’

She swallowed, and perched on the bed beside him, and reached out to brusy back his messy hair. ‘I wish you had too,’ she said quietly. ‘But you’re part of the family now, aren’t you? For good. I love you too, we all do.’

'I'm sorry,' he whispered suddenly, rolling onto his side with what must have been considerable effort.

'It's all right, you're just a bit drunk, you know I play the grumpy Mum act up a bit.'

'No. I… I’m sorry for everything I put you and your family through.'

She placed her hand against his face, and looked into his bright eyes. ‘I’d do it all again,’ she told him. ‘In a heartbeat.’

‘Would you?’ he asked quietly. ‘If you knew? If you knew everything that would happen?’

‘I absolutely would still talk to the little boy alone in Kings Cross,’ she said firmly. ‘In fact, I think I would probably go looking for him.’

His eyelids drooped, he sighed heavily. ‘Kings Cross… Thank you.’

Within seconds, she was sure that he was asleep, gone to the world, utterly unwakeable. She smiled, kissed him on the temple, and left the room. From the sounds of it, Arthur was still arguing with George about beans on toast.

[moaserendipity]

Love in the air EP10 Messy Review

Helloooo my fellow LITA lovers! okay, I am sorry for that but did I lie about the Lover part, don't think so. Today I am back with another messy review. I must say that I loved this episode a lot, it was a lot lighter and I liked that, anyway I won't bother you with my crazy talk, so let's dive into Ep10.

We left off with Pai doing Sky's laundry because Sky was sick, well we are back in Sky's dorm because our poor baby is still sick and Pai stuck with him. I love how Pai talks to his dad and the way he asked for a leave to take care of his "boyfriend" and the way Sky briefly wakes up and feels confused to see Pai standing there and then the way Sky pushed Pai away because well it's Sky. It's the way he sweetly talks to Sky that I just love and then that flashback where we see Sky engrossed in his usual nightmare, istg my heart cries for him everytime we see this. The way sleeping is horrible for him but I love how Pai held him and told him he wouldn't let him go and that he is right here, ugh...my heart. the realisation when Sky woke up and the way he threw himself into Pai's arms, I really want Pai to hold him forever, our Sky

ugh, Pai, this is not the time to tease him but maybe it is? I don't know maybe approaching this with a bit of humor can help? also, Pai's high libido is going to be trouble for him mainly because Sky is sick, control yourself.

Sky really is a work-o-holic isn't he, this baby doesn't know how to stop unless someone makes him, even when sick he only wants to work, thank goodness that Pai is there to prevent this, getting better is priority number one Sky!!

I love how we get to see how Pai takes care of Sky and the way sky slowly starts to warm up to him, this is so much better tbh. I mean I love the "Tom&Jerry" kind of relationship because it's fun but I prefer this. That huge wall is slowly coming down. You can see that Sky is struggling though because he probably doesn't understand why Pai is taking care of him, or maybe he does but just doesn't believe it, which makes it a bit sad tbh because Sky is the sweetest. The way he wants to accept his care but also reluctant(is this the right word?) because he thinks he still just wants sex. I do love how Pai speaks his mind when Sky tells him he can leave now as he is feeling better. I mean his intentions are clear at least for me but again Sky thinks he wants sex and Pai clearly tells him "that he still doesn't know what he wants then"

Pai's honesty is so important because I feel like he has to explain himself a lot with Sky and not because Sky is dumb but because he wont belive him but all Pai wants is his attention and to pursue him. It's such a change to be honest and I am here for it. also Sky's face when he said that, ughhh... this boy us slowly falling and then that cute kiss on the cheek, it's just seriously such a progress and I am just feeling proud of him.

ahhh my Payu, ugh where to get a man like that, again... Damn it for Rain for getting him first!!! xD

THERE WE HAVE THE SCUMBAG THAT HURT OUR SKY!!! I really hope they aren't friends. I want to slap him hard but I can not. I am a bit scared though because remember Payu saying you can bet everything at the racetrack.....I really really really hope Pai isn't going to do something stupid. Also the moment Pai finds out that he is the scumbag that hurt Sky......insert evil laugh, he will get hurt badly that's for sure.

Ahhh the last cheer, the tying bracelet thingy, I love that if I can be honest. The way they tell Sky to stay put and don't move a muscle, it's too cute. Friends like that are awesome. Yeah Sky, You did so much already, let your friends take care of the rest and just relax.

Our Pai is coming through by taking care of Sky, such a sweetheart. I really love how he changed from playboy to this. Who would stay seated for a couple of hours to let his "boyfriend" lean on him to sleep.. Gosh making me jealous once again. Even Pai didn't expect himself like this, which makes it even better.

Then the rope tying starts and I'm sorry but my attention went to Payu & Rain because HELLOOO, Payu do we need to be this close but then again if Rain was mine, I would do the same, this boy is too cute for his own good.

Pai's smile though while looking at Sky and the way Sky keeps looking at Pai, we feel things are really shifting right!!? It's amazing and then after the ceremony the way Pai tells him just to show it if he happy and the way Pai had an error when Sky actually smiled broadly at him without any sarcasm or annoyance, just pure joy. Even my heart felt that smile.

We are back at the dorm and as Sky is sleeping, our man with a high libido has issues again. I get it though, I mean Sky what are you looking seducing for with your leg like that.... When Pai leans in though Sky opens his eyes and at first I can't help but to see a bit of fear in them but also expectantance, like will he or not? the way he says in a small voice "Are you going to jump me?" ugh my heart and the way Pai tells him he will use the bathroom, this made me chuckle though...

Sky's revelatiuon though... Yeah you wanted him to kiss you, my dear man you are falling slowly but steadily for him.

Date time, Those cakes look amazing...lol the way he brought up that Payu brought him here and the way Pai reacts, which makes him clarify that it was with Rain. Ahhh not cool Sky, don't push Pai towards that lovely woman, because that is not what he wants at all!!! That confession though from Pai, lol that was not necessary at all but Sky kind of liked that he stepped into the trap that he didn't even set. I love those little smiles from Sky.

Ugh Joy, the nosy landlord, I don't like that because it makes Sky uncomfortable. The way Pai turns away because he can't hold in his smile..

yeah Pai I think you should get used to his meanness although I don't think Pai minds it and think it's rather cute. Sky is not even stopping him from entering anymore, this is progress. I love how Pai always wants to be close to Sky and that Sky kind of accepts it without letting him get disturbed from his work too much. The teasing continues and the way Sky pulls out the stanley knife

....this is something that I would do as well...awwwww see that cute smile, he is totally smitten with Pai.

What is he writing down, i need to know!!!! It must be about Pai as he clearly gets caught. Okay but the drawing on the hands, it's to sweet!!!! The way Sky loves it...

I love how Pai doesn't leave and even gets food in the meantime. Sky is finally curious about Pai's life, this is such progress, and the way he opens up about himself as well, and those little smiles. he is finally enjoying Pai's company, this is the best!! I love how Sky asks Pai not to call him nong Sky, it's important I feel. I am proud of him! OMG, THE WAY PAI TELLS HIM HE WILL WAIT UNTIL HE IS READY!!!!!! I am here for it!!

I can not wait to see their progress next week, I mean it's clear as day whom is tired of waiting, I can not wait to see how that unfolds, let's have a happy episode without too much angst!!

[sungie]

Ahhh hello fellow ace hooman! If it so inspires, do you have any non-sexual intimacy headcanons with precious bean toge? 🥺 I am way too attached oml

a/n: i woke up to this and I WAS SO HAPPY also hello fellow ace i love u !! pls the way inumaki just has everyone in love with him TT unfair

masterlist 

Inumaki likes tracing little words into the palm of your hand. They’re not always meant for you, sometimes they’re little objects scattered around the area, like tree, or star, or mug, but sometimes if you’re paying close attention, you’ll catch a thrown in pretty or a traced heart that’s intentionally meant just for you. 

Inumaki wakes up early, which makes sense because he’s always falling asleep whenever he gets the chance to.  But it has its perks, since he likes making a cup of your favorite warm beverage and holding it out to you as he pokes your face to wake up because it’s boring without you. 

He rests his head against your shoulder because it feels warm, and if you do the same to him, he’ll turn into a blushing, smiley mess, and he’s very glad you can’t see his expression because he thinks he looks absolutely stupid. 

Inumaki has a ritual of always pressing little kisses to your eyelids right before he goes to sleep.  He’s always tired looking, with messy hair and droopy eyes, and it makes your heart soften so much. 

He also likes poking your cheeks to annoy you (he thinks it’s funny)

He thinks hiding the things you need is funny, too

And tying your shoelaces together, so it takes a long time for you to get out the door 

He doesn’t like writing love letters, because he finds it cheesy, but sometimes he has to at least write short sentences of affection because he won’t be able to say it out loud.  One time you watch him embarrassingly press a folded slip of paper into your hand, and he bolts out of the room. 

i wish i could tell you how much i like you instead of writing it down on a dumb piece of paper

But Inumaki also thinks some of the best moments with you are just sitting in comfortable silence, while you watch the scenery outside, or both work on individual hobbies.

[darkverrmin]

"Remind me how this happened again?"

Jaskier hissed in pain, as Geralt pressed the wet cloth to his right calf. The pain was bearable, but still quite unpleasant. And the Witcher seemed to be taking his time treating the wound.

Jaskier was propped on a rock outside their inn for the night, Geralt kneeling on the grass in front of him. Geralt looked up at the bard with raised eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

Jaskier sighed. "Told you already. I saw a puppy running around here, it looked adorable, but awfully thin-"

"You mean the wolf cub?"

"It looked like a puppy".

"It was a wolf cub".

"Still a puppy. Anyway, I wanted to feed it, so I brought some meat from the tavern. It approached me and-"

"You brought food to a wild animal?" Geralt was staring at him with shock and amusement.

"I wouldn't call it a wild animal, Geralt. I petted him!"

"Of course you did. Okay, but how did-" Geralt nodded at Jaskier's bleeding calf "this happen?"

Jaskier pouted. "Well, you see... The wolf and I had a great time, till a couple of drunken morons stumbled out of the tavern screaming and scared the poor thing away. It was so confused, it bit my leg and took off into the trees".

"You're sitting here with your leg looking like this and he's the poor thing?"

"You should've seen it up close, Geralt. It was a magnificent creature. Snow white fur and those eyes-"

"It could've bitten you in the face, Jaskier".

"No, because I didn't lean in. I'm not an idiot".

"You have like, zero sense of self preservation".

"Oh, shut up. It's not the first time I got bitten by a wolf. Although, you usually don't draw blood, dear". Jaskier added with a wink. "Are you done yet?"

Geralt finished tying the bandage around Jaskier's calf, standing up and taking a step backwards, admiring his work.

"Yes".

"Thank you, dear. Let's go to bed?"

"Sure".

"Splendid. Gods, I could really use a good night's sleep right no- AHhh-"

Jaskier yelped in surprise, when the Witcher picked him up in his arms, bridal style. Geralt took them to their room for the night.

Jaskier pressed his nose against Geralt's neck, laughing softly. "This is totally unnecessary".

"This is very necessary". The Witcher answered with a soft chuckle.

They fell asleep quickly, warm and soft in each other's arms.

***

The next morning, Geralt woke up first. He went to the stables to check up on Roach, when he noticed the wolf from yesterday staring at him from afar.

Geralt huffed to himself, when he noticed that the wolf had white fur and bright-golden eyes.

Geralt gave the wolf some food from his bag. The wolf approached the Witcher with caution, sniffing at the food on the grass. It ate the food quickly, moving on to playfully nibble at the Witcher's hand. Geralt smiled as he scratched the wolf behind its ear.

"And I'm the one with zero sense of self preservation".

Geralt turned his head and saw Jaskier, who was leaning against the doorframe. The bard had a big smile plastered on his face. "By the way, he looks a lot like you".

"Looks nothing like me". The Witcher mumbled, turning back to the beast. Geralt gave him the rest of the food in his bag, the wolf grabbed it and took off into the woods.

Geralt stood up, brushing his pants. He turned to Jaskier, who was still staring at him with a soft smile. The Witcher sighed. "We're going to have a long talk about the trust and illogical amount of love you give to all living creatures in general".

Jaskier tilted his head. "As if you hate that about me".

"I don't. But I'm tired of treating wounds and worrying about them healing".

"Understood. Guess from now on, I'll just concentrate all my illogical amount of love towards you, my dear Witcher". Jaskier winked at him and slipped back into the inn, getting ready for the day.

Geralt rolled his eyes fondly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

[aerynwrites]

I would absolutely love to see what happens if Knight Din witnesses Reader accidentally injurying herself. 🥺

AHhh yes omg! I love me some hurt/comfort! It’s in my top three favorite tropes. So I hope I delivered well, lol.

Slip up

Knight!Din Djarin x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k ( i have no self control. I’m sorry)

Warnings: Blood, Injurys (not graphic), terrible medical practices, soft Din.

You knew you should have gotten the fence gate fixed when it had broken all those months ago. But at the moment, it didn’t seem like that big of an issue. It still did its job well enough, it kept the chickens and goats in the yard, and that’s all it needed to do right? So, you just chose to ignore the dangerously sharp piece of metal jutting out from the sodden gate, in favor of convenience,  Today, however, the choice seemed to have caught up to you.

The first snow had fallen overnight, and you woke up this morning to your father running about trying to keep the house warm all while instructing you to check on the animals. He kept muttering about how Genevieve would have his head if he let her favorite egg-laying hen die from the cold. You had held back a chuckle at his words, knowing they’re true. Genevieve often came over to buy your extra eggs for her bakery, claiming that your hens laid the “biggest and tastiest eggs around!” - how she could tell that you weren’t sure. So, you abide by your father’s request and headed outside. 

It was frighteningly cold, and you pulled your coat tighter around you as you trudged over to the overhang on the side of the house to grab a bail of hay to spread in the hen house. You went about the usual routine for the animals when it was cold and were satisfied to see that none of your chickens or goats were in bad shape. Just a little cold and hungry for breakfast. 

You were just spreading the last of the chicken feed when you heard a familiar voice call your name. You turned around to see Din pulling up in his horse, a bright smile on his face as he waved at you. A smile matching his own burst onto your face and you set the bucket of feed on the ground before walking quickly over to the gate to meet him.

You reached the edge of the yard, and without thinking you grabbed onto the top of the gate to push it out of the way...at the same time your foot connected with a patch of ice on the ground. Your feet are taken out from under you as you slip on the slippery patch of ground, and you instinctively brace on the gate. Your hand slides off of its place and glides painfully across the jagged piece of metal jutting out of the wooden gate. A sharp gasp slips from your throat as hit the ground, and Din rushes over to you, concern etched onto his features when he sees the blooming patch of red spreading in the snow beneath your hand. 

“Your hurt,” he says as he gently helps you to your feet once more. 

You cradle your injured hand, in your free one and watch as crimson drips from your palm onto the bright white snow below you, and you whimper slightly, “I knew I should have gotten that gate fixed months ago,” you gripe, as Din leads you over to your house, “Now look what I’ve gone and done. It will be weeks before I can use my hand properly again...what about all the work I have piled up? There’s a festival coming up soon, and the queen needs another gown, and now I can’t -”

“Hey,” Din’s soothing baritone cuts you off, when he sits you down at the table in your kitchen, “You don’t need to think about that right now,” he tells you, “Can I take a look at your hand?” 

You sniffle slightly and nod, holding your hand out for him and watching as he gently takes your hand in his own. You watch as he slowly uncurls your fingers from your palm, pausing when you flinch, and continuing only when you give him a small nod. He looks quickly over the wound and hums low in his chest.

“It actually doesn’t look bad, it’s not deep. You won’t even need stitches,” he tells you warmly, before he looks around the room, “Do you have any medicinal supplies?”

Your eyes widen at his words and you shake your head, “You don’t have to do this Din,” you tell him, “I can take care of this on my own.”

He looks at you with a slightly teasing gleam in his eye and stands, “What kind of knight would I be if I left a lady all alone after she injured herself?” he asks playfully before his eyes soften and he kneels down in front of you once more, “Please let me help you.”

You sigh, unable to resist him when he looks at you that way, and you point into the kitchen, “There are some supplies in the cabinet to the far left,” you tell him softly.

He nods, telling you he will be right back before disappearing into the kitchen. You hear him shuffle around for a few moments before he returns with several items in his hands. He sets down a few bottles and containers on the table, a few strips of cloth bandages, a bowl of water, and a clean rag. He pulls a chair up so he is sitting in front of you and dips the rag in the water before taking your hand gently in his own. His hands are strikingly warm compared to your own cold ones, and you can’t help the way that your face heats up as he begins to slowly clean the blood away from your wound. You have seen this man fight other knights twice his size and unseat men from their horses with grace and ease. So, to witness him being so gentle and caring sends a warm feeling to your chest. Neither of you speaks as Din tends to your injury, both of you afraid to break this slightly intimate moment between you two. You are only sitting a hair’s breadth away from your knight, the curls on his head moving slightly with each breath you take. You can feel the heat rolling off of him in waves as if he were a human furnace himself. The moment is only broken when Din begins to spread an herb salve over the cut, causing you to hiss and jerk away instinctively. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes instantly, taking your hand back in his own, “I just have to wrap it, and then I’ll be done.”

You nod and give him a small smile, “It’s alright Din,” you whisper.

Din takes the cloth bandages and quickly wraps them, once, twice, three times before neatly tying it off with a small knot. He then turns your hand over and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles before taking it away from his lips. Your hand is still in his and he runs his thumb soothingly across the back of it as he looks at you, eyes sparkling with reverence as he does so. 

You give him a smile and cover his hand with your free one, “Thank you, Din, you didn’t have to do that.”

He shakes his head and gives your hand a gentle squeeze, careful not to hurt your injury, “No need to thank me.”

You look away from him for a moment, your head turning with what to say before you finally turn shyly back to him, “Would you…” you trail off, your courage waning slightly before you force yourself to continue, “I still need to finish the chores with the animals, and with my hand, I don’t know if I can -”

“I would be delighted to assist you,” he interrupts, voice eager despite his best efforts not to appear so. 

You smile and nod, standing from your chair and he does the same, “If you don’t have any other duties to attend to today, you are also more than welcome to stay for dinner later.”

You feel your face flush as you realize what your words could mean and you rush to explain, “But only if you want too, you by no means have to feel that you-”

Din stops you before you reach the door to your house and he turns you to face him. He smiles at you before he reaches up and pulls his scarf from his neck and begins to gently wrap it around your shoulders. He takes your hand in his once more and places another soft kiss to your knuckles.

“I would love nothing more,” he assures you, eyes brights and cheeks slightly flushed. 

You can’t help the smile that splits your lips as you open the door and you both walk back over to the yard, hand in hand. At this moment, you are suddenly happy you never got that gate fixed.

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[cottoncandyjester]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do how your yandere oc's would react to their darling trying to leave the morning after they did ✨the dirty✨ and their darling thinking it was a one night stand? (sorry if it doesn't make sense) Have a lovely day!

This story contains: sex(duh), a sprinkle of creepy yandere behavior, kinky ocs, all around sexy times

Theodore

You open your eyes only to see that this is definitely not your room glancing around you see that the room is empty so you take this time to escape before the room owner returns. Getting dressed as quickly as possible you walk out the room making your way slowly down the stairs

You were hoping that theodore was at work or something so you can easily slip out the house and forget any of this happened, you weren't regretting it or anything it's just that it was a one night stand that's all.

When you make your way to the front door you noticed your way is blocked by a large doberman who laid across the doorway, anytime you reached for the door the animal would look at you and let out a rumbling growl.

It seems the growling had alerted Theo who was busy in the kitchen, he popped his head out his hair still a tad bit messy from last night's events. With a charming smile he greeted you before noticing that you were trying to leave

"come, eat breakfast with me i had just finished up! I made your favorite!"

How did this guy know what your favorite even was? As you walked towards the kitchen you couldn't help but glance at the dog who had locked eyes with you...that dog was definitely ordered to stop you from leaving.

Hikaru

A warm feeling had woken you up and you felt an arm around you tightly, you turned and saw hikaru laying next to you with his eyes closed. After a minute of internal screaming you decided it was best if you left before he woke up and had his security force you out themselves.

You slowly moved hikaru's arm before sitting up only to feel a hand grip your wrist and snatch you back into bed, you gave a terrified yelp before you were face to face with a very angry hikaru who now locked his arms around your waist keeping you from moving.

"where do you think you're going little piglet?"

You shuddered at his intense gaze and tried to come up with a proper answer without breaking out into stutters from how close he was to you.

"well, I was going to leave since y'know this was just a-"

Hikaru stopped your words by simply giving you a scoff clearly offended by your statement, hikaru's glare only got worse and he sat up now letting you go to run his fingers through his hair which was down and messy

"don't be an idiot, I don't just sleep around that's far too much of a headache. You're clearly of some value to me so you aren't going anywhere."

With that hikaru got out of bed before stretching with a low grunt, his back was covered in claw marks which you could only assume had to be your doing.

"now come on we are taking a damn shower! Better hurry up before I drag you!"

With that you quickly got up and followed him to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, it seems that hikaru wanted you around for a bit longer.

Axis

Every inch of your body was sore when you woke up, you were covered in bite marks, claw marks, and dark purple hickies not to mention you felt pretty dehydrated from last night. You glanced over only to see axis innocently asleep while hugging your arm to his chest tightly.

With a shaky sigh you very slowly started to slip your arm out while you looked around the floor for your clothes, once you got your arm free you sat up before starting to get dressed only to soon feel arms wrap around your waist and nuzzle into your back with a childish hum.

"where are you going?~ hmmmm?"

You shuddered lightly before glancing back now feeling his fingers lightly tickle along your stomach as he trailed his hands around your body.

"oh, well I was gonna go since last night is kinda over with and all"

Axis pulled you back into the bed now moving ontop of you and planting sweet kisses all over your face.

"hmm, nope! I won't let you, you have to stay with me forever now okay?"

"f-forever? But-"

Axis stopped now locking eyes with you his chirpy tone getting deeper as something sinister had slipped out.

"did I stutter? I said forever so meant forever. I hate repeating myself [y/n]"

Your blood ran cold at the sight of such a deadly gaze but you gave a simple nod which seemed to return him back to his normal happy self.

"well good! Now come on let's take a bath then we can make breakfast together!"

Axis hopped off you before skipping away to where the bathroom was leaving you worried for your life

Salem

A feeling of pleasure washed over you as you let out a quivering moan only to snap your eyes open to see salem hovering over you while slamming his hips against yours again and again fucking your hole brutally.

You shuddered as you lightly arched your back feeling him trail sloppy wet kisses along your chest and neck, it was clear that he's been doing this a while and was about to cum.

"g-guishy~ a-ahhh sooo slippery and loose!"

His high pitched crazed babbling was definitely something you were not expecting and you soon gasped feeling him pull out and practially spray you with hot thick cum before falling ontop of you getting the sticky liquid onto you both.

"W-what the hell was that?"

You soon heard light snores as salem had fallen back asleep now. Moving him was practically impossible since it seems he clung to you tightly not letting you go as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

Prince

You were already dressed when prince had stopped you, he wasn't in the room so you just assumed that he would be gone already since you knew he was a player, surprisingly he was cooking you breakfast...well more like popping waffles into the toaster but details weren't all that important.

"yo cutie! Don't leave so fast, have a waffle at least? Then maybe we can talk...or maybe a round 2 if you feeling up to it"

You felt like rejecting his offer but when you looked at the front door you noticed a padlock with a keyhole, there was no way you were escaping.

Yuki

You didn't even notice yuki in the bed with you when you were staring to wake up, you knew it wasn't your room or anything like that though. As you looked around for your clothes you noticed that they were absolutely gone, full on missing you couldn't even find your underwear!

Before you could move anymore yuki pulled you back into bed and snuggled up against his chest, with a soft sigh he closed his eyes and didn't even bother speaking to you.

"um, I have to go..."

"nope."

But-"

"no. Sleep."

You gave a slight frustrated huff which earned him to peek one eye open and gaze at you before he only tightened his grip.

"stay."

Seems like you're staying.

Rocket

You woke up to your face pressed against some bara tits and honestly it wasn't a bad way to start your day, as you pulled back you looked up only to see rocket sleeping and his messy blonde hair everywhere. You hold back a laugh before realizing that you both were very much naked and something very thick and possibly spine breaking was poking your thigh.

"oh shit-"

You decided the best thing to do is to slip out before things get awkward so you squirmed away and out of bed but you were pulled back now with him slipping his cock in between your legs now grinding against you.

"you aren't thinking of leaving right babe? I didn't even get my full last night since you passed out before I finished...only fair if we kept it going"

Scarlett

You woke up in a room filled with plants, the light from the window was the thing to wake you and you heard a soft giggling as you woke, you turned to see scarlett watching you with such soft loving eyes.

"sorry, I couldn't help but watch you sleep you're so cute."

"ah, you're probably waiting for me to leave huh?"

Your statement made the girl sit up and she started to pull her long hair back now tying it up into a ponytail. She simply smiled as she slipped out the bed now making slipping on a sheet black robe.

"quite the opposite really, I was waiting for you to wake up to have you join me on the balcony."

"the balcony...?"

Scarlett gave you a devilish stare before she licked her lips in the most sinful of ways.

"last night was truly amazing but I'm not done playing with you quite yet, I wish to see how good your stamina is"

Before you could even think you were getting up and following her out to the balcony.