#I mean he could have had a small moment of surprise

[getmeoutofhell]

HEYY!! i have a req! could you do where like reader dresses up as art for halloween? but like not during the day but when he gets home? like reader is dressed in black and white lingerie? like the top is a white lacy corset and the underwear is black and lacy too?? and when he comes home he just sees the reader and shit goes DOWN! if not its totally okay! make it as long as you want make it as short it doesn’t matter! whatever your heart desires! im sorry if this is also to much to ask for! but ily and take your time or dont do it! whatever youd prefer! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Art the Clown x F! reader smut

summary: reader decides to dress up as art for a surprise, but he had other plans.

warnings: smut!, cussing.

it was 9pm, art should be home soon. you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before walking out yalls shared bedroom. you decided today you wanted to dress like him as a surprise. if we’re being technical, your outfit wasn’t exactly like his. it was a lingerie version. before he got home you had also cleaned up the house (basically cleaning up after him as usual). you and art have been together for some time now, meaning yalls anniversary is coming up soon, so you thought now would be the perfect time.

you hear the door downstairs creak open, indicating art’s finally home. you miss him every second he’s away from you. you bought him a phone, to text him while he’s away, and not even a week later he broke it. you told him not to put his phone in the bad of sharp objects, but of course he has to be stubborn and do everything his way all the time. you watch art as he shuts the door and places his bag on the side before stripping out of his clown shoes. he must be really tired to take off his shoes right as he enters the house, it’s rare for him to do that. he then grabs his air horn and starts to abuse it, it’s his way of letting you know he’s home. “hi baby! i have a surprise for you but you have to close your eyesss.” he immediately complies and covers his eyes with hands as you walk down the stairs. you tell him no peaking before guiding him to the living room couch, having him take a seat on the sofa. you can see him smiling due to how high his cheeks are raised, making you smile at him. he’s so cute when he’s not out killing, but his evil side also attracts you in a way.

“okay are you ready?” you ask, placing your hands over arts. he nods like a small school boy, eager to see what his surprise is. you start to count down from 3. “3…2…1…open!” he opens his eyes before looking you up and down with the biggest grin known to man. he starts to clap his hands and toot his horn and the sight of you. “i’m you, kinda.” he loves it!! that’s good, maybe it’ll make him not so sleepy. when all of sudden, he stops clapping and his face goes blank. you step back slowly, confused on his sudden change of emotions. you know art is a ticking time bomb, one minute he’s happy the next he’s pissed off and you don’t know why. as you were about to ask him what’s wrong, he gets up from the couch standing directly in front of your face. you feel his hot breath against your nose as he looks down at you. in moments like these, you feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. what if he decides to just bash your fucking brains in, not caring about you or anything anymore. not that he cares about anything right now anyway, but still. he places his left hand on your cheek. your eyes never left his face. you take notice in his facial features, noticing his wrinkles around his eyes and his blonde eyelashes, his little black hat that he always wears on his head. he was handsome when he was serious, but also he was deadly.

he out of nowhere suddenly grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you let out a scream. “art!! what the fuck!” you’re then taken upstairs to y’all’s shared room, as he throws you on the bed. he takes this chance to guide his hands down to your legs, before spreading them open for him. art has this problem where he randomly gets horny, but i guess you did wear the costume on purpose or whatever…but that’s not important right now. you take a look at arts pants, seeing a boner forming. i guess dressing up as him did work. you can’t help but crack a smirk at that. you’ve been waiting all damn day for this moment, so why not enjoy every bit of it. art then starts kissing you up your neck, you feel him leaving hickeys or at least trying too anyway. you slightly moan feeling his tongue slide over your delicate skin. art takes advantage of this, sliding his hand inside of your panties, immediately attaching his ring and minder finger to your swollen clit. “oh!”

you then put your hands on his back, grabbing the zipper to his costume and unzipping it. “baby, let me take this off of you.” he ignores your request by pressing his fingers against your clit harder. a couple minutes later and you’re on the edge of your first orgasm of the day. “baby, i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” he looks at you and cracks that certain smile that lets you know he might stop at any given moment. you beg him not to, wanting to let your orgasm ride out. he finally rolls his eyes and let’s you cum all over his fingers. it feels so good, you can’t describe how much pleasure he makes you have. someone so cruel and sick like him has your toes curling and back arching. it’s a blessing and a curse. he slowly removes his hand from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his mouth. he shoves them in, tasting your wetness on his tongue. he acts like you’re some sort of drug, he’s addicted to your pussy, it’s his favorite dessert after a long hard day.

his head somehow was now deep between your legs, licking up your pussy lips. the way his tongue dances on your clit makes you think he needs it. he acts like he does. your head was thrown back into the bed, and it felt so fucking good you couldn’t even moan properly. black and white face paint spread all over your inner thighs, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was cumming all over his face. “fuck!” you started grinding over his wet mouth, feeling your second orgasm approaching by the second. it was getting to much to the point where your legs started to shake like no other. what type of spell does he have on you? how does he know how to make you cum so fucking fast? you know you have no answers to those questions. you moan his name like a chant, as you finally let yourself go for the second time. your body couldn’t take it, you were so sensitive and he knew that.

as you’re trying to calm down from your orgasm, art didn’t even give you the time to before he lined his cock up with your entrance. “baby, i can’t take all of this at once.” once again, he ignored you and slide right in. your eyes had a mind of their own as they rolled in the back of your skull. his dick was so good, he’s fucks you like his life depends on it. he knew exactly where your g spot was and always abused that spot each chance he gets. you loved when he marked you as his, the way his cum filled you to the brim and you watched it drip out of you. “yes baby, give it to me! harder!” you moan his name again as skin on skin could be heard from everywhere, his balls slapping your ass. not to long later you feel art slow down his pace, telling you he’s about to cum. you always want him to cum inside so you bring him closer to you than he was already. arts legs started shaking against you. you’re cumming. it’s uncontrollable at this point, feeling your body go limp under him.

you wonder, does he actually know how much you mean to him. does he feel the same way?

hope this was to your liking!! let me know if you enjoyed :)

[wanderingwnderland]

yandere! boyfriend x fem reader ೀ⋆⑅˚

currently listening to: angel by massive attack

Matthew was an incredibly valuable employee to one of the most prominent cybersecurity companies in the city of New York. He would often get called into work during his off hours when a group of fellow engineers were greeted by an especially indecipherable cyber attack. However, the undeniable value and intelligence that he added to the company didn’t necessarily reflect on his willingness to be social with those at his work environment. Matthew preferred to keep to himself most of the time as he lived by the statement: “I just don’t speak if I don’t have anything to say”. He wasn’t too fond of participating in playful banter with those around him because he was simply there to do his job and leave. What was the point of putting in that extra amount of unnecessary effort to talk to people he wouldn’t even speak to if it weren’t for work? Maybe that was why his boss liked loved him so much. Matthew wasn’t shy about the fact that he was there to do his job (incredibly well at that), leave and wander off to experience whatever else life had to offer. No bullshit there. Just a man that would have no trouble doing whatever his job required of him.

However, Matthew would often be teased by his older sister because of the fact that he was almost always enveloped within the poisonous vines of his work, that he never really made an effort to take his life to the next level. Sure, his job paid incredibly well and he was stable in most areas of his life but his sister never failed to remind him that there was one thing missing from his puzzle.

“When are you gonna give me a sister in law, Matty? I mean mom and dad clearly failed to provide me with a biological one, so I’m appointing the task to you”. Claudia, his sister, enjoyed throwing playful jabs at him as that was her job as an older sibling, but she truly wanted to see her brother with a girl by his side. Someone that he could come home to, share his life with, someone that would stay at the end of the night.

Matthew couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that he’d been hit with a wave of loneliness more times than he’d like to admit. When the city was quiet for a moment, his work phone was silent, and he could hear his heartbeat singing within his chest, Matthew could no longer ignore the painful yearning he felt for the opportunity to finally have his other half by his side. So, after a while of attempting to put up an “I’m alone because I’m so enveloped within my work and that’s fine” facade, he decided to start putting himself out there. However, he preferred to stick to the people around him and refrain from downloading a single dating app.

Funnily enough, it was the exact morning that he was clocking in for work where he first laid his hazel eyes on you. There you were picking up your usual coffee order at the cafe nestled within the same building of his place of work. You were so beautiful and everything you did that had him in shambles seemed all so effortless. Matthew knew that he probably appeared a bit unsettling as he caught himself staring at you for a bit too long, so he took it upon himself to walk up to you, make small talk (which he rarely ever did with anyone), and ask for your number but not before paying for your coffee & pastry. You were pleasantly surprised by his approach because online dating/dating apps have become the norm for some years now, and you rarely ever heard of people meeting potential suitors in person anymore. Not only that but the way in which he did it almost made you feel as if you were the main character in a Jane Austen book. Matthew wasted no more than a second before saving you as a contact in his phone and messaging you as an effort to get to know you more.

The story of how the two of you met was something you couldn’t look back on without a smile being plastered on your face. Matthew knew from the very first time that he saw you that he’d do everything within his power to keep you satisfied and by his side. He didn’t expect for his first experience with a women to go as smoothly as it did with you, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. You were absolutely everything that Matthew envisioned when he thought of his future. The incredible sense of security and love that you provided him with was something that he swore he’d do absolutely everything to protect. In his point of view, you were nothing to be played around with. He wouldn’t tolerate or expect you to tolerate any sort of disrespect from anyone, and he’s willing to get his hands dirty to get his point across. Matthew truly doesn’t mind getting out of character when it comes to you, suddenly he’s the most confrontational man in the entire room and his tongue is sharp enough to cut down a giant sequoia tree.

Not only does he get out of character for you in the ‘confrontational’ sense but you have him partaking in activities that he most likely wouldn’t do without you. Matthew prefers low energy spaces over places that are ‘extroverted’ or involve large amounts of people/loud noises. So, he adores when the two of you visit coffee shops, bakeries, art museums downtown, botanical gardens, estate sales, nights at the movie theater, etc.

In the beginning, Matthew is everything you could ever want in a man but you could tell he was a bit…anxious? He was getting used to being in a romantic relationship with somebody and he wants to make sure that he doesn’t make any mistakes. He wouldn’t know what he’d do if he had the opportunity to have an angel such as yourself in his presence just to have you gone due to his idiotic actions. The pet names that he has for you are quite traditional but the absolutely love struck tone in his voice when he says them make their effect on you so much worse.

(Ex: Baby, princess, pretty girl, and muffin once he starts getting even more comfortable)

Thanks to him being an incredibly talented cybersecurity engineer, he’s able to hack into various electronic devices (including yours). Listen, Matthew obviously trusts you with his entire being but he’s doing this to keep an eye on the people in your life that he’s suspicious of. Of course he wants the love of his life, the apple of his eye to have an amazing night out with her friends but it just depends on who those friends are. He doesn’t want anybody to steer you in the wrong direction or peer pressure you into doing anything out of character. He just loves you so much and he’s willing to do everything he can to protect what the two of you have.

has an obsession with older romance movies and it shows through the sickeningly sweet way in which he treats you. He holds you as if you’re made of fine china or a knife of some sorts.

knows how to throw down in the kitchen as he’s had enough time gifted to him in order to learn how to cook/bake. He made you a cherry flambé one night after dinner and you almost fell out of your seat because of how good it melted in your mouth. You think it’s adorable how often the two of you visit restaurants, bakeries, & cafes and he takes every opportunity to expand his palate and get ideas of what else to make in your shared kitchen.

has a hooked nose and dark curls that ring around his neck like vines.

Every time he sees you naked it’s like the first time all over again. His eyes are watery, his fingers are shaking and he’s aching to get his hands on you, fingers inside you, his hips flush against yours as his cock makes a creamy mess out of your pussy. He swears you’re something straight out of a Peter Paul Rubens painting.

Couldn’t be happier when you obviously agree to go on a trip with his family and him to the villiage in Mykonos where his parents are from.

enjoys listening to rock and bands that have supposed ‘self-loathing anthems’. FE: Sublime, Soundgarden, Matchbox Twenty, Radiohead, etc. He listens to a wide variety of music but he favors jazz, rock, and folk music.

He runs hot in his sleep so he wears a simple set of a black tank top and black polo plaid boxer shorts to bed.

Prefers colder, rainy, and foggy weather.

He had a habit of smoking but somehow managed to quit once you entered his life.

[aventurineswife]

Under the mistletoe with all the obey me brothers? 🤭

Love, Laughter, and Mistletoe

Tags: Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader, Obey Me Brothers x Reader (seperately), Mistletoe Moment, Holiday Special, Early Christmas Fluff, Romantic Moments, Surprise Kisses, Soft Side.

A/N: WHY AM I SUDDENLY GETTING OBEY ME REQUESTS OUT OF NOWHERE?! NOT COMPLAINING BUT JUST CURIOUS!! 😭😭

Lucifer

The atmosphere in the room was warm and festive, the smell of cinnamon and pine filling the air. The sound of cheerful laughter and soft music played in the background. As you looked up, your eyes caught the faint glow of mistletoe hanging above you and Lucifer.

His sharp eyes noticed the same thing at the same time, his posture straightening as he crossed his arms with a smirk.

"Well," Lucifer began, his tone cool but with a hint of amusement, "it seems the situation requires a formality, doesn’t it?"

You blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Just this once," he murmured, stepping forward, closing the small distance between you. His lips brushed your cheek for a brief, almost imperceptible moment, and his voice lowered. "Consider it a necessary gesture of goodwill. Don’t get used to it."

As quickly as he had come, he was gone, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a faint blush. It was rare for him to break his stern demeanor, but somehow, under the mistletoe, he had made an exception.

Mammon

"Wait, wait, hold up!" Mammon's voice echoed through the room as he stared up at the mistletoe with wide eyes. "You mean... we both have to stand under it?"

You were barely able to stifle a laugh as Mammon's usual confidence seemed to waver for a moment. "Yeah," you teased, stepping forward. "It’s tradition."

"I—well, then—uh..." Mammon stammered, his cheeks turning pink. "Guess it can’t be helped... M-Merry Christmas, human!" Without another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a quick, clumsy kiss on the cheek. "That’s what you wanted, right?"

You grinned. "It was perfect."

He puffed out his chest, trying to recover. "Of course it was! I’m the Great Mammon, after all! You’re lucky to get a kiss from me!"

Leviathan

You nearly bumped into Leviathan as you walked under the mistletoe, both of you pausing for a beat as your eyes met. The air seemed to freeze for a second, and then Levi's face flushed bright red.

"U-uh, well," he stammered, his fingers gripping his controller tighter. "I-it’s just like in those anime, right? A moment like this... should we... should we...?"

Before you could respond, he suddenly leaned forward, kissing your forehead in a shy, quick gesture. "T-That’s what they do, right? O-Only in the good romance arcs...!" He immediately hid behind his game console, muttering to himself in embarrassment.

Satan

The mistletoe hung above the two of you, and Satan's lips quirked into a knowing smile. "This seems like a situation that calls for some... poetic justice." he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Poetic justice?" you repeated.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Yes. A kiss beneath the mistletoe could be an elegant display of mutual respect."

Before you could react, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle, deliberate kiss. "There," he said softly, stepping back with a smirk. "Perfect."

You blinked, slightly stunned, but he only smiled more. "I always appreciate the beauty in things, especially when they’re as well-placed as this."

Asmodeus

The second you walked into the room, Asmodeus spotted the mistletoe above you both. His eyes lit up with delight. "Oh! What a wonderful excuse for a kiss, darling!" He practically purred.

You didn't even have time to respond before he was pulling you close, hands sliding to your waist, his lips capturing yours in a deep, lingering kiss. "Mwah! What do you think? Was it enough to melt your heart?" he teased, pulling away with a wink and a dramatic flip of his hair.

You were still in a daze, but he simply gave you an exaggerated pout. "Ah, don’t worry. I’ll be sure to leave a bigger impression next time."

Beelzebub

Beel noticed the mistletoe overhead just as you walked past, and he blinked, confused. "Is this... some kind of tradition?"

You smiled, shrugging. "Looks like it. It’s a Christmas thing."

Without much hesitation, Beel smiled and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "It’s not a big deal. I’m just happy to spend the holiday with you." His warm hands rested gently on your shoulders, and you could feel the sincerity in his words.

"Thanks, Beel," you said, your heart swelling with affection. "This is perfect."

Belphegor

As you looked up at the mistletoe, you couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Belphegor, on the other hand, had already noticed and was lounging on the couch, eyes half-lidded.

"Ugh, another one of those holiday customs..." he sighed dramatically, not bothering to move from his comfy spot.

You rolled your eyes. "Well, come on, it's tradition. You have to—"

Before you could finish, Belphegor lazily reached out, pulling you down beside him. "Fine, fine," he muttered, catching you off guard as he kissed you, his lips soft and unhurried. "Merry Christmas, MC."

You couldn't help but chuckle as he lay back down, closing his eyes again. "I’ll do it... because it’s Christmas." he mumbled, his tone still sleepy, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

This is my second time writing it again because Tumblr didn't save it the first time 😋 sorry if the characters are bit ooc, i honestly need to study their characters more

[reidology13]

we could make it better (breaking every habit)

Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader

Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer

Part 1

They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies. 

Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.

As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.

Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-

“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then. 

“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.

“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.

Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.

“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”

“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.

“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in. 

What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.

“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.

“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.” 

“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.

She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.

“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”

“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it. 

“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.

“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.

“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.

He got out of it.

“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.

“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”

Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”

“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”

“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.

“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.” 

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”

“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”

“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

[eldritch-spouse]

That is a very generous offer Jonesy but I don't want to live on an island. I'm happy enough here. Now if you'll excuse me I need to-ah! Jonesy. Please let me go.

[Ambiguous reader]

TW: Kidnapping

" Why... Whatever do you mean? "

The throne looks entirely perplexed, as if nothing in this world could have prepared him for a rejection that, from your point of view, is anything but surprising.

All of your interactions thus far with this 'celestial' have been nothing if not positive. Jonesy, as he calls himself, is a positive force in your life. You're one of many 'lessers' who this Mother Miara entity he speaks so fondly of has selected to be judged for a certain period of time. Initially, the fear of what this might entail kept you defensive, but Jonesy's 'judging' honestly seems to consist in him inviting himself into your daily routines and generally being helpful.

Convenient enough that you decided to go along with it.

Maybe that's being a little harsh, you did grow to enjoy Jonesy's company, a little bit. He's pleasant enough, polite, seeming to have your best interests in mind, even if he doesn't understand that he no longer has the level of authority angels might have once had over humanity. And, most of all, he always brings small trinkets when he visits. Sometimes it's a new decoration for your home, other times it's some thingamajig he doesn't fully understand and wants you to explain to him under the guise of a simple present. Two of his gifts stand out to you.

Jonesy once gave you someone's personal phone. It was still locked and entirely undamaged, he likely picked it up somewhere. Lessers like theses things, he had proudly said, I found another one for you. He looked offended when you suggested he deliver it to a police station, so you dropped the subject and quietly took care of it yourself. Another time, the throne showed up with a gorgeous, reflective feather. He sounded a bit vague when you prodded for its meaning, but it looks harmless enough. You've decided to put it in a little case, to which Jonesy recommended that you sometimes take it outside with you.

You were never overly touchy with the angel, didn't think you should be. Jonesy is easy on the eyes, in his own bizarre sort of way, but he exudes authority in equal amounts to safety and comfort, so it felt inappropriate to simply take that step. Nevertheless, impulse once made you comment about the quality of his fur, the few times he'd wear something a little more 'casual', and Jonesy said nothing for a few moments, before placing your hand on his chest and letting you feel the expanse of softness there. You had never experienced something like it before, your fingers sunk into it yet it felt so incredibly light, so cozy, as if you could just lay your head upon it and have the best rest of your entire life. Neither of you said much of anything to each other for the rest of that particular visit.

He appears to like animals too, which is something you find very appealing in people. A few times now, he had this super beautiful cat -It was very large, some kind of maine coon?- With fur as white as his own and these wide eyes that seemed just a little too involved in anything around itself. Jonesy carried it with the utmost care and would regularly talk to it, calling it 'lady'. It made you smile, though he would always hand the feline to another celestial before properly greeting you, removing any chance to interact with it.

He's definitely weird.

But, perhaps, you could call Jonesy a friend in your little life.

Being friends with him doesn't mean you're about to abandon everything you've built and those you love just to join an island far away and be in some sort of paradise cult. Even if he's right about it being the best decision you could ever make, even if you'd live your best life there and be incredibly fulfilled, without having to bare the weight of your society's expectations on your shoulder- It's just not your home. It's not where you think you belong, and it certainly doesn't justify leaving your family and friends behind.

" I mean exactly what I said, Jonesy. " You shrug, finishing the basic omelet you were trying to make when he nearly pounded through your door in his excitement to see you.

You suppose these 'wonderful news' are why he didn't waste a second before dropping that bomb of a proposal on you.

" Dove, are you listening? Mother Miara herself has judged your profile and deemed you worthy of joining us in the most sacred location of Earth! "

You really just want to eat and end this conversation. " Jone- "

" Do you not wish to be welcomed into Lady Miara's arms? She will make you the best version of yourself, you will never know misery, you'll be surrounded by prosperity and harmony. I would help guide you- "

" No! " You interrupt, a lot more forcefully. " No, I don't want to go to some remote location and abandon everything I know, excuse me if that sounds crazy to you. I have people here who need me, okay? I have a community I belong to, I like having my own place with all the stuff I own. I like going to places you won't find on an island, Jonesy. I'm not going anywhere. "

He's motionless after your outburst, maybe in shock, maybe trying to make sense of your reasoning. You decide to soften the blow.

" Listen, I'm very flattered. It sounds like a great deal that I know many people would take. And good for them! I'm not one of those people, I'm sorry man. "

The kitchen suddenly seems too small and crowded. After a very tense silent that absolutely rips the hunger out of you, he finally speaks.

" You poor thing. " The throne murmurs, making you rise a brow. " You don't think you're good enough. You feel that you must be tied down to this frivolous nonsense in order to have meaning in your life. You could never be more wrong. "

Frustration bubbles by now. " Jonesy, can we not have this conversation right now? "

" It's quite alright, I see now. You'll need a lot of help to overcome your mind's delusions. Fret not, I'll take it upon myself to clear them. "

The celestial advances as he speaks, resolve radiating off of him. You barely get to turn away before he bodily picks you up. With little effort, as if you weighed less than the very trinkets he'll occasionally bring around.

Angels... Angels don't hurt humans unless they have to, right? It's not in them to be malicious... Right? Jonesy wouldn't hurt you.

He won't.

You hope he won't.

" Wh- What are you doing?! Put me down, please. " He doesn't. In fact, he walks outside. " Please put me down. "

" Silence lesser, be graceful about this blessing. "

You can't see them, but you can hear another celestial waiting for Jonesy, making a noise of confusion.

" Are they wounded? " The new one questions.

" No, just blinded of reason I believe. "

The nerve.

" Unfortunate. "

You're handed off rather easily to a larger set of hands, unable to see the face of this stranger before they run a hand through your face and the ability to see is quite literally taken from you. It's enough to make you freeze.

" Quite. I know they'll find a better home with us however. "

You dare not move when they take flight, knowing it'd be certain death to squirm mid-air, blinded, and horrified.

[overnightheartbeats]

Seeing his grin amused her immensely. Laurel just felt relief all around, especially when each moment they had spent together felt fleeting, feeling like she could lose it from one moment to the next. Still, even if it turned out to be short-lived, she was willing to enjoy it to the fullest. Each smile, laughter, the way his eyes seemed to pierced her soul - greedily, she craved it all.

She caught that glimpse of surprise in his features, and for a second, she feared she had been too honest. But, the satisfaction that followed was much more familiar to her and Laurel couldn't help the smile full of relief that adorned her lips. "Back at the dock, what a smart ship," she mused out loud, wondering if she could take that to mean that he also had not moved on. Even after all this time. It was a second of mirrored satisfaction, followed by that immense guilt that wouldn't leave her alone. All these years, after ruining his life, and he still hadn't moved on? She couldn't help the pang of guilt that struck her. "I would be pleasantly surprised to find our ship back somewhere on that dock."

Even with the semi-hopeful conversation happening, her situation wasn't lost on her. He may have turned a new leaf and his life may look very different than it had all those years ago, but Laurel knew he was still close to his family, thinking back to his cousin stopping by his place and that dinner he went to with his dad. And on her side? Well, her mom still held some influence in her life - something she'd been unable to kick. Laurel's need for her mother's approval still dictated her life to this day. "Well, I was never really good with small talk," she teased, following his lead and taking another drink from her glass. Though, it was much larger than just a sip. Liquid courage? Maybe. Setting the glass back down on the table, Laurel willed herself to look back up at him, meeting those blue eyes she loved so much. Looking at him once more, she reiterated to herself that, yes she was willing to try again. Go all in for him. If her gaze was not communicating that, then one more sip of her drink, and Laurel was ready to say it out loud. Unable to continue dancing around what she wanted.

"You're glad?" she breathed out in surprise. Her realistic tendencies held her down, though a sliver of hope threatened to take over. "New territory is right, yet it feels very familiar. I just can't pinpoint why." Laurel hung to every word, his smile mesmerizing her like it had so many years ago. It felt like a turning point for them - an adult conversation between two people who hadn't seen each other since their teenage years. It was definitely something. Inevitably, a smile broke out on her lips. Pure joy in her features, and that hope from earlier burst through her chest. "Really?" she said breathlessly, unable to contain herself as she stood up from her chair and closed the distance between them, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him in for a kiss.

A laugh pulled from her lips, shaking her head. "Okay sorry, I got carried away. Yes, me too. Well, I had already said that. But, honestly...no pressure. I'm not expecting us to just immediately go back to what we had. More so, I just wanted you to know that I'm still here and I still...feel things for you. So yes, expecting things from each other, I can work with that. We can just take it slow, right?" She felt like she was reaching rambling territory, her nerves were in full display and leaning on being chill and nonchalant to not completely freak him out. "Don't worry, I won't request any girlfriend titles or anything of the sort."

Pat couldn't help the grin that curled his lips at the way her demeanor lightened when he agreed and assured her he would stay another night. It was impossible not to look forward to another night with Laurel, not to bask in every single moment he could with her. It was impossible not to appreciate the flush that came to her cheeks, just like it used to when they were younger and he would wink at her, although this time it wasn't unaccompanied with a roll of her big beautiful eyes.

The dirty blonde was sure surprise crossed over his features, though it was quickly replaced with a sense of satisfaction and relief. She hadn't moved on? A part of him felt guilty for that, but the other part, the larger part, was glad that was the case, because he certainly hadn't moved on from her. His hand came up to run through his hair as he let out a slow sigh. "I don't know about our ship sailing, maybe its back at the dock or something." he offered with a half-hearted chuckle. Despite the fact that years had passed, they were both still in scarily similar situations to the moment he'd been placed behind bars. He was still dangerously entwined with his family and his father's family business, and Laurel was even closer to the law then ever before. Not to mention, her mother would never come around to the idea of her daughter dating Patrick O'Morhan; especially now that the word felon followed his already tainted last name.

Pat's brows rose slightly at her next words, followed by a soft chuckle when she mentioned how it wasn't good dinner conversation. "Better than pointless small talk I guess." he offered with a shrug before he took another sip from his glass and let his light eyes find her darker ones across the table. What did she mean when she said she wouldn't mind if he expected things from her? Was she willing to try again, even with everything seemingly stacked against them? And how did he even go about asking that?

"I'm glad you asked." he settled on, a slight smile taking his lips. "I know it's kind of new territory for both of us, I mean, I never expected you to even still live here." he admitted with a small shrug. "But I," he paused, swallowing the growing lump in his throat that made itself apparent whenever he was attempting to be vulnerable. "I'm open to..." he paused, unsure how to word it. "Expecting thing from each other." he finished with a half laugh.

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 4

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.6k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: It's time for your first practice with Kuiil and Din, and you're nervous.

a/n: I feel weird putting this up today but this is the schedule I set and I'm a little afraid that if I put it off I'll just never post anything again. I'm gutted and angry but I do love this fic, so. here's the next chapter. See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Chapter 4

You didn’t try to talk to Din again for a few days -- you were suddenly nervous. Adrian said he kept watching you during morning classes, but you hadn’t caught him in the act yet. For your part, you couldn’t stop yourself from watching him, so you figured he must not have been looking that much, because you would have seen him. Right?

You tried to put your stilted conversation with him in the hallway out of your mind. You didn’t want to let it get in your head before practices even started. 

On Monday the following week, you were walking down the hall from class to rehearsal when Kuiil fell into step with you. You briefly glanced around, wondering where he’d come from, and smiled when he greeted you.

“I am looking forward to working together.” The echo of your words to Din made you smile, ruefully. As always, Kuiil was direct but his tone was warm. “I am glad Greef agreed with me about casting. I know you will do well.”

You blinked. You thought it had been Karga’s idea. “Oh, well, thank you! I didn’t realize… he didn’t tell me it was your choice.”

Kuill nodded serenely. “Yes. You were my first thought to dance it with Din, when I began to picture it in my mind. You will each bring something important to the piece, something the other could learn from. Something you can share.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t exactly sure what he meant. You were used to that, when talking to Kuiil. “I’m very excited to be in it, and grateful that you thought of me. I’m honored, really.” 

He smiled at you as you stopped by the door of your rehearsal for Jee’s piece in the January mixed program. “We will start rehearsal this week, I will update the schedule on the board this afternoon. Before our first meeting, I only ask that you reflect on the idea of existing in the moment, and what that means for you personally and artistically.”

You blinked. This wasn’t your first unexpected request from Kuiil, but it was somehow always a surprise — you could never predict him, and once he was done talking, he was done. There was no use asking for more of an explanation. “I will,” you promised. He nodded and turned to continue down the hallway.

Existing in the moment. Well, you weren’t sure where to start, but you were going to have to try and figure it out before your first rehearsal.

…

On Thursday afternoon, you made your way to the small studio usually reserved for pieces with only two or three dancers. Kuill had scheduled short weekly practices to start focusing on the choreography while everyone was still busy with the upcoming programs for January and February. Adrian had escorted you until you passed his own rehearsal a couple of doors back, and you were glad he had — you’d needed the pep talk.

You can do this. 

The door was open when you arrived and you stopped just short to take a few deep breaths. As you did, you realized Din was already inside and you could just hear his low conversation with Kuiil

“… never done something like this before. I—”

Kuiil interrupted him. “Din. You must try to set your worries aside. I know what you have done and what you have not. And I know that you can do this. You must learn to trust in yourself, not in who they said you were. Instead, in who you are.”

There was a pause, and you tried to will yourself to move, but failed. You wanted to hear his response.

“I—” he sighed. “I’ll try. But you know…”

“I know,” Kuiil agreed. You had no idea what they were talking about. You shook yourself into motion — you didn’t want to eavesdrop too much.

You tried to make some noise as you took the last few steps to the open doorway and into the studio. They both turned to look at you as their conversation suddenly stopped.

“Hello, my dear,” Kuiil said, waving you forward. You said hello and moved to meet them by the sound system, dropping your bag nearby. “Welcome.”

You nodded. “Thank you again, Kuiil—”

He waved his hand and you stopped, smiling. You knew what he was going to say. 

“No, no, none of that. You are the best choice. And you, too, Din.” Kuiil turned to look at your new partner and you noticed that whatever they might have been discussing, Din had put on his expressionless mask yet again. He nodded.

“Now, we will talk before we dance.” Kuiil looked first at you, and then at Din. “Tell me, what does it mean to you, to exist in the moment?”

You felt relieved for a moment that you weren’t the only one given homework, and then nervous at the thought of sharing what you’d thought about. With one glance at Din you knew he wouldn’t be speaking first. Guess it’s on me, you thought, wryly, and squared your shoulders. 

“Well,” you said, tone tentative. “I thought about it, as you asked. I thought of the obvious — not thinking of the future or the past, but only the present. But then in class and in rehearsal I wasn’t sure how that applied because, well, dance is always in the moment, in some ways. It’s an action, it’s happening right now, even though it can reference and build on both the past and future.”

You paused and glanced up at Kuiil. He was nodding. Ok, good. You didn’t look at Din. “And so I thought about it yesterday, in my rehearsal alone for Midsummer and then with everyone for Jee’s piece. And…” you hesitated, and finally risked a glance at Din. You were almost startled to find him staring at you intently, eyes dark and unreadable. You blinked. “And I thought about the difference between being on stage alone and with other people. We dance the choreography, of course, but we also react. To each other and to the music.” You paused.

Kuiil tilted his head. “Go on.”

You took a breath. “Well, being in the moment in dance is more than just following steps you were taught. You have to be aware of your fellow dancers, and you have to move with them but also in response to them, and to yourself. And depending on the ballet, your ability to react or modulate or adjust or improvise could make or break it. But aside from all that, it also puts you in conversation with each other and the music. There’s a difference between dancers moving on stage in unison and dancers moving and working together, even if they’re doing different things. Does that…” you hesitated again, glancing between them. “Does that makes sense?”

Suddenly, Kuiil smiled, and you felt your shoulders relax. “Yes, my dear. An excellent observation. Din?”

You both turned to look at him. For a moment, he said nothing, and you wondered if he really hated talking this much. Then he looked down and murmured, “I agree.” He glanced at you and you shivered. To Kuiil, he said, “The best performances happen when the dancers inhabit the music. Together. When they speak to each other in movement.”

Kuiil nodded. “A sentiment I think your former company might disagree with.”

Din sighed and for a moment you thought you caught the hint of a smile around his mouth. But you blinked and it was gone. 

“True,” he nodded. “And it wouldn’t be our first disagreement.”

Kuiil nodded like he understood, and you resisted the sudden, overwhelming urge to ask what other disagreements he’d had with Concordia.

“Well done,” Kuiil said, looking at both of you. “I want you to continue thinking about this question as we work together. This will not be like a classical pas de deux,” he looked at Din, who nodded, “but instead something new. Some parts may be familiar. This piece will have three movements, each staged separately, and it will be difficult. Technically, yes, but also because of what I will ask of you.” He paused, and you felt your heart start to race, not with nerves, but with excitement. “The choreography will ask you to react to one another, at first as strangers, but later in harmony. It will be dynamic. First you will meet,” he gestured with his hands and moved them past one another. “Then you will circle each other,” he moved his hands around each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes moving farther away. “And finally, you will come together and create something new.” He pressed his hands together and nodded. “Overall, it is about the connection you form and nurture between you, in these short moments together.”

No one spoke for a moment as you took that in. “That sounds beautiful, Kuiil.” Your mind was spinning as you thought of the possibilities for each part of the piece, and what it might look like on stage. 

“Thank you, my dear. I believe it is the two of you who will make it so. Now, for today’s practice, we will listen to the first movement, and then I will send you home to listen to the rest. Focus on what you hear and we will talk about it after.” He turned to the sound system and your gaze drifted once more to find Din, to your right.

You found him already looking at you. Your eyes caught, and as the music started, you swore he might have started to smile.

…

You felt better after your first not-quite-practice with Kuiil. You hadn’t danced at all but you felt more sure of yourself and the piece. 

The only thing you weren’t sure of was Din.

After rehearsal he had once again left quickly, and Kuiil had nodded at you as you followed Din out the door. He had already been halfway down the hallway when you stepped out.

A few hours later, you finished with PT and went looking for Adrian — he had promised you dinner (and a debrief) and you weren’t going to let him get out of it. You found him talking to Owen and pulled him away. 

“Sorry! He promised to feed me and I’m starving.”

Owen laughed, waving you away. You tucked your arm through Adrian’s and dragged him towards the street. 

“So,” he said, elbowing you. You elbowed him back. “How was it?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but weren’t sure where to start.

“Oh come on,” he said, when it took you too long to respond. You looked at him, confused. “I bet you haven’t even learned any choreo yet and you’re already in love with it.”

You rolled your eyes. “We talked about the piece and his vision for it.”

“Oooh, his vision,” Adrian teased you, and you laughed. “You’re so lucky getting to do this with, like, your favorite choreographer. It’s going to be so amazing, too, because I swear the two of you are on the same artistic wavelength. But what about your partner?”

You shrugged and you both stepped out onto the street and you smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. Come on, you have to feed me.”

He laughed and tugged you down the street.

…

The following week you had a shortened rehearsal with Kuiil, due to the start of the January mixed program in the next few days. But it only took a few minutes for your tentative hope and confidence about the whole thing to start to slip.

You turned, holding your position in attitude, and began to draw inwards, collapsing your body as Kuiil had asked. Before you could begin the extension of the next movement, though, the music stopped. 

“Hold on,” Kuiil called. “Take a moment, both of you. Breathe.” 

You stood up straight and closed your eyes. You took a deep breath, trying not to hear his words as sharp criticism. 

It wasn’t going well.

The first movement of the piece was all about meeting someone new — someone with a different style, someone who moved in a different way. Unlike a classical pas de deux, it started with the variations, with solo moments on stage for each of you that played to each of your strengths. Then Kuiil had you meet each other for the first time. It emphasized your differences in ways that showcased your talents, but at the same time those strengths drew you apart. You were supposed to move past each other, to miss each other, but then somehow to catch each other’s attention anyway. By the end of the first, you were just starting to be pulled into each other’s orbit, intrigued but wary, unsure of the nature of the tiny connection you formed.

But you both seemed to be having trouble with the idea of being in the moment separately, yet still somehow together.

You knew you would start alone, dancing in turns, and wouldn’t even share the stage until a few minutes in. But rather than start with that solo choreography, Kuiil had started this first rehearsal with the choreography for the first few moments you were on stage together. You started up stage left with a turn into a full extension that became an arabesque en pointe. From there you ‘fell’ to the floor and rolled before standing and turning into a leap. Then a series of jumps and turns took you across the stage towards Din. 

Din, on the other hand, started in the wings from stage right and burst into action. While you were moving slowly through your extension and arabesque, he came flying onto the stage in a double saut de basque en dedan. From there he twisted and turned until he was supposed to cross paths with you.

You’d only learned a few counts of 8, and yet somehow you could both tell it wasn’t working. Whatever you’d managed so far, it wasn’t what Kuiil had envisioned. It felt disjointed. And the more frustrated you felt, the more you knew it would show in your body. You could feel it, and you could definitely see Din’s frustration almost radiating off of him in waves.

After a moment, Kuiil called you over to where he was standing. “Even though we start this piece with the two of you emphasizing different styles, you are still talking to one another. From the first moment, when you meet, you are interacting, you are curious. You are not dancing separately, no matter how tentative, no matter how new or foreign or hesitant the connection might be. You affect each other from the moment you meet. Your bodies cannot lie on stage.” 

He sighed, and you felt your shoulders tense.

“I want you both to practice until next week, and to think about how to form that connection.” He looked at Din, whose spine was so taut you wondered if it hurt. “But let us stop for now. I know you have your solo variations this weekend, Din, and you, my dear, have Jee’s piece. Go and focus on those things, and next week we will try again.”

You bit your lip and nodded. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he waved you both towards the door. “No, no, it is only the beginning. Do not worry, we will find it.”

You nodded. You needed to get out of this room, to get your mind ready for the next rehearsal. For the performance awaiting you over the weekend. As you stepped into the hall you heard Din begin to speak to Kuiil, but you walked quickly away. Eavesdropping definitely wasn’t going to help you clear your mind, this time.

...

prev | next

a/n: uh oh 👀 now what? some ballet terms:

Kuiil mentions that this pas won't be like a classical pas de deux -- as I mentioned last time, classical pas de deux have certain recognizable parts. This one is a bit more inventive.

attitude (derriere) - a position with one leg extended with the knee bent at a 90 degree angle, usually turned out. in this case reader is doing it to the back (derrière) and en pointe (on her toe shoes). here's a video!

extension - reader mentions the 'extension of the next movement' -- she's starting in attitude derrière, collapsing inwards, and then extending her leg back out into arabesque (next bullet), all en pointe.

arabesque en pointe - similar to an attitude but with the leg straight rather than bent. here's a very short video of basically the position reader is about to do.

leap - a leap is a broader term that can be used for a variety of jumps in ballet, but in this case reader is supposed to turn into a saut de chat -- a leap where the front leg does a developpe. (the video shows this well)

double saut de basque en dedans (~0:28) - Din enters the stage doing one of these. The video has a few different impressive jumps but this one is one of my favs, tbh. He's turning in the air twice with one foot touching the knee of the other leg, which is straight. 'En dedans' refers to the direction of the turn (towards the supporting leg, the one that stays straight). Here's Baryshnikov doing one.

counts of 8 - reader refers to learning a few counts of 8. In dance we count in 8s (what anyone musically inclined would think of as two 4/4 bars) and you often learn new choreography in 8s, or 8 beats. it's just the unit of measure everyone uses (which would obviously change if the time signature of the music was different). I've heard a lot of explanations for it (can tie more movements together, more room for choreography, easier to break down the moments between the beats) but honestly I don't know the historical reason. lol

music - Kuiil has chosen a piece with three movements. I actually have one in mind but I'm torn on sharing it because it's not like, 100% right, but mostly. I've choreographed a lot of this thing in my head. 😂

tag list coming in a reblog!

[lucyblue101]

When I’m with you… my body feels different

Choso x reader

Warnings: sexual content. Choso in this au has had his body for a while but isn’t sexually expirenced. However he’s been in a relationship with the reader for a while and they’re taking things slow. Choso has his first orgasm prematurely.

Choso sat on the edge of the bed, his usually composed expression nowhere to be found. Tonight, he seemed more nervous than usual, his dark hair falling around his face as he looked down at his hands, a subtle tension in his shoulders. You’d noticed him growing closer and more comfortable with you over the past few months, but he was still hesitant, holding back in a way that suggested there was something he hadn’t quite figured out.

As you settled next to him, he looked up, his gaze softening slightly when he met your eyes. “Is everything alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

He gave a small nod, but his eyes drifted downward again, his lips pressing together as though he were trying to find the right words. “I… I think so. It’s just… new,” he murmured, his voice hesitant.

You tilted your head, curious. “New?”

He seemed to struggle for a moment, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of red. “When I think about you… when we’re close like this��� sometimes my body feels strange,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

hesitant. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes… when I’m close to you like this, my body feels… different. My pants… they get tighter, and it… hurts.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, almost as if ashamed.

Your cheeks warmed as the realization dawned on you. “Oh,” you whispered, feeling your own heartbeat quicken. Choso was just beginning to experience the sensations of physical attraction, something he’d never encountered before. You could see the confusion and vulnerability in his eyes, and it was both endearing and heart-wrenching.

“Choso,” you said softly, leaning in and gently cupping his face. “That’s completely normal. It just means… you’re feeling something strong for me.”

He seemed both relieved and uncertain, his gaze searching yours for reassurance. “I don’t really know what to do.”

Smiling gently, you brushed your thumb over his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” you said. “Just… let yourself feel.”

Slowly, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. His arms found their way around you, pulling you closer, and he responded to the kiss with a hesitant but growing confidence. The kiss deepened naturally, becoming more passionate than either of you were used to, and when you shifted into his lap, you felt his breath catch.

Your lips left his, trailing along his jawline and down to his neck, placing soft, lingering kisses on his warm skin. He shivered beneath you, his fingers tightening around your waist, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped him, his voice filled with surprise at his own reaction.

As your kisses grew deeper, you felt him shifting beneath you, trying to adjust as he struggled with the new sensations overtaking him. The hard, insistent warmth pressing against your thigh was unmistakable, and when he realized it too, his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, voice rough with embarrassment as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know what’s happening… When you’re this close, it… hurts but also feels really good?.”

Your own cheeks heated, and you could barely contain your flustered smile as you realized just how innocent he truly was. “Choso,” you whispered, bringing a hand to gently stroke his cheek, “it’s okay. It’s normal to feel this way when you’re with someone you love.”

Still looking a little lost, he glanced down at himself, swallowing hard as he processed your words. “It’s normal?” he asked, voice soft and uncertain. His brow furrowed as he shifted under you again, and he let out another low, almost involuntary moan as you trailed your fingertips along his abdomen, lifting his shirt to expose his toned stomach. The sight made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t resist pressing gentle kisses along his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under your touch.

“Oh,” he gasped, his eyes closing as a whimper escaped his lips, his hands gripping onto you tighter. You continued, your kisses soft but insistent, moving over each firm line of his abs. Choso’s breathing grew more erratic, and his entire body trembled beneath you as he struggled to hold himself back, to understand these overwhelming sensations. You felt him buck slightly beneath you, unable to control his reactions.

Then, suddenly, his whole body tensed, and he let out a shuddering, unrestrained moan as his hips lifted instinctively. His eyes fluttered open, a dazed expression on his face, and you noticed the slight dampness starting to spread in his pants. He seemed stunned, frozen for a moment, as the release washed over him, leaving him breathless and flushed. His eyes met yours, wide with surprise and embarrassment, and a blush spread across his cheeks.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I don’t…” he stammered, looking away as he tried to process what had just happened. “My pants…” He swallowed, clearly mortified. "Their a little wet," he whispered, almost to himself, his cheeks burning.

You gently cupped his face, wiping away a small tear that had gathered in the corner of his eye, offering him a reassuring smile. “Choso, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft and understanding. “It’s completely normal. It just means you felt really good.”

He looked up at you, his eyes vulnerable, yet filled with a sense of relief as he took in your comforting words. “You… you’re not upset?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course not,” you replied, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. “I love every part of you, Choso. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

A shy but grateful smile crept onto his face, and as he glanced down at himself again, he laughed softly, a little self-conscious but clearly reassured by your presence. “Thank you… for being so patient with me,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

You pulled him close, pressing a few more soft, gentle kisses to his lips. “Always,” you promised, leaning into him with warmth and understanding. “Whenever you’re ready to learn more, I’m here.”

Tag list

@canigotosleep--plz

@hargun-s

@haruhatake

@tibibibi123

@mistymuii

@moonchhu

@itsafairytalekay

I’d like to know what everyone thinks :) I really appreciate feedback 🥹

[skeletorrito]

im sorry im just obsessed w this chapter of my teen stsg fluff fic

Sunshine Days - chapter 2

Rating: T

10.7k (total)

The first time Satoru saw Suguru swallow a curse, he gagged. 

“Oh woah that’s so gross!” Satoru commented, both fascinated and disgusted. “You really have to swallow them like that?! Does it hurt?!” 

Satoru was burning with questions. Every week, he had a new question about Suguru’s curse manipulation technique. 

“What do they taste like?” “How many curses do you have in total?” “Do you ever throw them up?” 

Suguru entertained Satoru’s constant curiosity with mild amusement. It didn’t bother him because, well, it was just another excuse to talk to Satoru Gojo. 

They were entering their second year at the academy, and both boys were growing stronger and stronger day by day. Missions were in full swing, and Satoru and Suguru were always the top picks for the most dangerous missions. On day one of the semester, they were already called into Yaga’s office to discuss a mission. 

“Suguru, what’s your favorite curse?” Satoru asked as he lounged in one of Yaga’s office chairs, waiting for their teacher to return from a meeting.

“Hmmm,” Suguru contemplated for a moment. He had about two hundred and fifty curses by this point in his life, but some he used more than others. “Oh, the flying stingray.” He finally replied, nonchalantly.

“Excuse me, did you just say flying stingray?!” Satoru leaned in, his mouth open with surprise and wonder. His eyes sparkled and glittered with curiosity. “Can you ride it?!”

Suguru grinned. “I can.” 

Satoru stood from his chair, probably more excited than he’d ever been in his whole life. “You mean to tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?!” Satoru gripped Suguru’s shoulders and started shaking him, which caused Suguru to chuckle. “Are you serious, Suguru, or are you messing with me?! Because either way, I definitely need to ride that stingray.”

“I’m not sure if it can hold two people, honestly…” Suguru murmured, mulling over the idea for a moment. He started thinking about how he’d even fit Satoru on the stingray with him, Satoru’s long legs would likely need to straddle him while he steered. That visual made him blush slightly. 

“Well, we’re gonna fucking find out!”

“Find out what exactly?” Yaga entered the room, his suspicious, beady eyes darting between the two of them. “Settle down, Satoru. I’ve got a mission for you boys.” 

“Damn, already?” Satoru plopped back down into the chair with a sigh, tipping the legs back dangerously. 

Yaga sat down at his desk silently and opened a manila folder containing the details of the mission. “This one’s across the bay in Chiba, located in a nearby Buddhist temple at the base of Nokogiriyama. Visitors of the temple are being terrorized by whatever cursed spirit is haunting it,” he passed both boys the report to review, “Ijichi will escort you, it’s going to be quite the trip.”

“Oh, no need for an escort, Yaga,” Satoru peered over his sunglasses at Suguru with a wide, wild grin, “We’ve got our own ride.” 

“I don’t know about this, Satoru…” Suguru trailed off, examining his pink stingray curse anxiously. It was small, really small, especially for two teens who were already breaching six feet. He could sit comfortably on it with crossed legs, but he’d never tried having a passenger with him. “What if we’re airborne and it gives out on us?” 

“Oh, c’mon Suguru, have a little faith.” Satoru walked around the stingray, checking it out with delightful inquisitiveness. Its eyes followed Satoru three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around its body, fluttering quietly about a foot off of the ground. Suguru could tell, judging by the boy’s intense stare, that Satoru was figuring out the physics of it in that magnificent brain of his. He finally gave it a gentle pat as he reasoned, “It’ll be like… sharing a bike. You sit in front and steer, and I’ll be behind you and try not to fall off. It’ll totally work.”

Suguru hesitated, hand on his chin as he considered Satoru’s suggestions. Even with their weights combined, they weren’t especially heavy. He was more concerned with being able to fit all of their limbs on the stingray. The thought of Satoru behind him so closely made him break out into a sweat. 

Satoru pushed him towards it, ushering him to get on. “Look, you sit here,” he tapped near the ray’s head. Suguru complied nervously, crossing his legs tight, trying to make himself as small as possible. The stingray dipped slightly but still hovered above the grass. “It’s a little cramped, but… if I squeeze in here…” Satoru then slipped his thin, lanky body behind Suguru, his legs bent and feet resting near the base of the wings. The ray grazed the ground just slightly before rising back up to its original resting place inches above. 

“Yes! See!? I told you it would work!” Satoru exclaimed into Suguru’s ear, totally unbothered as he settled comfortably snuggled against his teammate.

 Suguru’s back went rigid as he felt Satoru’s entire torso pressing against him. He flushed a deep red, feeling incredibly grateful that Satoru couldn’t see his face. “Don’t speak too soon, we haven’t even tried flying yet…” he murmured, setting a hand on the stingray’s head, using cursed energy to start elevating. 

The stingray jolted, nearly sending Satoru tumbling off. He yelped and grabbed Suguru’s waist suddenly for leverage. “Jeez, Suguru, at least give me a warning first!” 

Suguru himself jolted at the warm hands gripping his waist. His face grew hotter, this whole situation making him so flustered. “Sorry,” he replied sheepishly, “Just- just keep holding on, I’m going to try and get us in the air…” 

Satoru clutched him firmly as the ray escalated, slowly but smoothly, off of the ground and into the sky. They just about reached the clouds, high enough so that regular humans would only catch a glimpse of them as a speck darting across the horizon. Suguru knew that Yaga would be furious if he found out about this, they definitely omitted (lied) about this detail of the trip, but it was so hard saying no to Satoru when he flashed those big, beautiful, cyan eyes of his.

“Wooooah,” Satoru gasped in awe, looking around at the clouds with child-like wonder. “This is amazing! I’ve never been this high up before…” He peeked down through his sunglasses for just a moment, watching the earth below grow smaller and smaller. His stomach clenched with anxiety and exhilaration, a wave of adrenaline crashing over him. 

He was fully trusting Suguru Geto with his life in this moment.

And it thrilled him more than it scared him.  

A shy smile spread across Suguru’s lips. He took in a huge breath of relief, closed his eyes, and felt his back push into a firm, anchoring chest. He relaxed into the touch, his creeping guilt and shame dissipating as he just… let it all blow away with the wind whipping in his face. 

It wasn’t lost on him how incredibly intimate this felt, just the two of them in the swirling pink and orange sky, surrounded by fluffy clouds, the sun shining on their faces in the brisk, early morning. 

He peeked behind him and beamed at the expression on Satoru Gojo’s face, how stunning he looked, with his brilliantly white hair and his perfect eyes reflecting the sunrise sky, his easy grin taking in the beauty of everything around them. 

He looked like pure sunshine. 

It hurt deep within Suguru’s chest how badly he wanted to kiss Satoru. 

Right there, in the rosy sky.

It was an overwhelming, lovesick ache he’d never experienced until just now.

“Are you ready?” Suguru asked, his mauve eyes darting down for a beat to glance at Satoru’s soft lips.  

Satoru caught his stare, searching Suguru’s face for words left unspoken. His hands reached out, long arms hugging around Suguru’s middle and squeezing tight. 

He replied, softly, genuinely, “Yes. I trust you, Suguru.”  

Suguru took off, at full speed, skating across the clouds.

They beat Ichiji by a whole fifteen minutes. 

Still totally worth it. 

Satoru and Suguru peered up at the massive temple in awe, the towering, wide-flared roofs glinting with accents of pure gold under the veil Ichiji set. As soon as they stepped foot on the grounds, they felt a rumbling below their feet. 

The aura suddenly thickened, settling on both of them like a shift in gravity. 

This had to be a special-grade curse. 

The pair looked at each other, silent and wide-eyed, as the steps leading up to the temple continued to vibrate with each stair they climbed. Whatever cursed spirit was in that temple sensed them and it was furious. 

They split, Suguru peeling off to the side of the temple to check for another entrance. Satoru was more of the head-on, confrontational type, anyway. He swung the large, embellished doors wide open. 

He was immediately faced with an opalescent, serpent-like dragon twisting itself around a temple pillar. The curse stretched at least a hundred feet long as it spiraled up to the ceiling. Its angry roar shook the entire temple as it witnessed Satoru’s presence, yellow eyes spinning angrily, locking on and preparing to swoop in for an attack.

 “Suguruuuu, I think I found a new Pokémon for you to catch,” Satoru sang, his Infinity blocking the creature’s first attack. He still felt the quake of the curse’s impact under his feet. This thing was clearly powerful and sturdy. The barrier only made the rainbow dragon angrier, the rebound slamming its body into the temple walls. It screeched an ear-curdling scream, the entire infrastructure rattling. 

“Let’s make this quick before the whole place goes down,” Suguru appeared from behind the temple’s gigantic Buddha statue and summoned his ginormous hookworm curse from underneath. It shot up, managing to rake off a few shiny scales with its teeth, but the dragon was too fast and its skin too hardy. It slid through the hookworm’s grasp easily and ascended to safety. 

Both boys gasped, watching in amazement as the dragon circled around the temple’s tall ceiling, evading Suguru’s curse attacks with grace and precision. 

“Oh hell yeah, this thing is awesome!” Satoru exclaimed as he strolled to the middle of the temple floor. His neck craned upward as he slipped off his sunglasses and tucked them on his head. He examined the curse with a wide grin, taking in every detail of this terrifying cursed spirit with no fear. The dragon was too smart to strike again and risk rebounding; it instead seemed to focus on gaining distance and defending its birthplace by staying close to the perimeter. Unlike most cursed spirits, this appeared to act like a wild, territorial animal, protecting the temple and scaring off any man who dared to enter. 

Satoru glanced over to Suguru, who was already standing above black pools of tentacle-like curses, as he commented, “We’re totally riding this one home, Suguru.” 

Suguru smirked, replying, “Yaga’s gonna kill us if he finds out.” 

He locked eyes with Satoru, confirming the plan of attack. They weren’t telepathic, by any means, but in battle together they were two pages out of the same book. After countless missions together, fighting side-by-side for all of them, one always knew what the other was thinking. 

“Nah, he won’t. We’re the strongest they got.” Satoru smirked back, giving Suguru a playful wink. 

Together, they moved in sync. Suguru commanded the numerous cursed tentacles to stretch into the air as Satoru used Blue to pull the cursed spirit toward them. It strained as it fought against the gravitational pull, thrashing and digging its claws into the temple walls, until Suguru’s tentacles were within reach to bind it. Suguru anchored himself to the floor using his curse, bracing himself against the insurmountable power of Satoru’s technique. His arm stretched out, ready to absorb the cursed spirit, swirling energy on his palm. The dragon shrieked again, echoing through the temple. It was inches away from his grasp. “Almost!” he shouted against the whipping winds of Blue. 

The back wall of the temple collapsed in suddenly. Satoru took a quick step in front of his teammate to block the flying debris using his Infinity, doing his best to extend it as wide and as flat as he could like an impenetrable shield. He poured all of his cursed energy into dragging the heavy, writhing dragon down and protecting them, sweat flicking off his brow. Suguru was behind, exerting as much energy as he could muster into his curses and his absorption. 

Just a few more seconds… Just a few more inches…

Until everything clicked into place. 

“Got it!” Suguru shouted out. The beast roared violently as it started disintegrating, breaking off piece by piece and joining the whirlpool of energy on Suguru’s palm. Satoru held Blue until the entire curse was contained into a stormy globe. He dropped everything, debris and shards of wall finally falling to the floor with a few seconds delay. 

“Holy shit that thing felt like it was made of lead!” Satoru exclaimed as he collapsed on an unscathed meditation bench. He was exhausted, his energy depleted significantly after the battle. Releasing a heavy sigh, he brought his sunglasses to his eyes as he lounged across the bench.

“I know, right?” Suguru agreed, “Makes you wonder how it was formed in the first place…” Suguru examined the curse ball in his palm before shoving it in his mouth, wincing at the taste as he swallowed it whole. He plopped onto the bench alongside Satoru, slumping and leaning his hand on his chin. “I might need a break to summon it, I’m exhausted.” 

 Satoru comically scooted himself down the length of the bench until he was resting his head on Suguru’s thigh. “Play with my hair while I nap,” he requested in a murmur. 

Suguru laughed, shooting an incredulous look at his friend. “Are you joking?” Satoru peered up at Suguru over his sunglasses. Oh, no, he’s serious. Suguru started, carefully, “Satoru… isn’t that a little-” 

“What, best friends can’t play with each other’s hair?” Satoru defended, a small flush spreading across his cheeks, “We clearly need some rest and we’ve got time to kill before we ride back.” 

Satoru flashed his big, blue, puppy-dog eyes, not that Suguru needed much convincing anyway, and Suguru sighed. “Fine, fine. Such a princess…” he muttered. He gingerly threaded his fingers into Satoru’s fluffy, snowy white hair, so soft and thick.

Satoru was immediately transported back to his childhood when his many nannies would stroke his hair to coax him to sleep. It was so soothing and nostalgic to feel Suguru pet his head like this. “Just gimme like… fifteen minutes, okay?” He said with a hum, eyes closing contentedly as Suguru’s fingers grazed his scalp. Satoru was out in a matter of minutes, easily slipping into slumber on his trusted friend’s lap.

Suguru could have easily spent hours like this, spending an equal amount of time watching Satoru sleep peacefully and admiring the vast temple they were in. As he mindlessly stroked, he finally had a chance to take a good look around. Even with the rubble and destruction, it was gorgeous. The walls stretched on and on, accented with rich reds and glinting gold murals of Siddhartha Gautama and his journey to enlightenment. Miraculously, the giant, gold Buddha statue still stood tall behind the collapsed wall. He closed his eyes, focusing on steadying his breath and nothing else in the world besides his hand in Satoru Gojo's hair.

 

Satoru finally stirred from his slumber nearly an hour later. Suguru was still in the same position as before, losing track of time as he meditated with his fingers in Satoru’s hair. Satoru let out a big yawn, sitting up and stretching. “Damn, I needed that. How long was I out?” 

“An hour, I think.”

“An hour !? You could have woke me up! What the hell were you doing for an hour?” 

Suguru shrugged, “Meditating.” Satoru gave him a deadpan expression. “Oh, I got rid of Ichiji, too. He thinks we’re taking the train home tonight,” he added, smirking. To avoid raising suspicion, Suguru called Ichiji not long after Satoru fell asleep to sweet-talk him into leaving. According to Suguru, they were going to “sight-see” in the area since the mission wrapped up so quickly and they’d take the train back to Tokyo tonight. Ichiji bought this lie immediately and reported back to the academy. Suguru’s curse manipulation technique always fell second to his ability to talk himself out of a situation, his charisma and charm its own jujutsu entirely. 

Satoru laughed and smiled, “Nice! Now we have the whole day to chill.” He turned towards his teammate. “Alright, Suguru, it’s your turn.” 

“Huh?”

Satoru patted his lap as he clarified, “I’m not greedy, I’ll return the favor.” 

Suguru eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t really nap well, you know that.” Though he’d be lying if he said didn’t think about Satoru stroking his hair. 

“Well, that’s because you’ve never had Satoru Gojo playing with your hair. C’mon, just lay down. If you fall asleep, awesome, and if you don’t, you still get to relax.” 

Suguru smiled, conceding and resting his head on Satoru’s thigh. He blushed, his gaze resting on the temple ceiling. Were his daydreams of romantic moments, such as these, with Satoru Gojo finally coming to fruition? His shallow crush only deepened over the time they grew close, but never once did he expect it could be reciprocated. 

At least, not until today. 

“It sounds like you just want an excuse to play with my hair,” he teased. 

“Well, you do have great hair, Suguru,” Satoru replied with a grin as he pulled the elastic from Suguru’s bun, allowing his charcoal hair to spill onto Satoru’s lap. “It’s getting long!” He pulled his fingers through to splay its full length. 

Suguru’s eyes fluttered closed as he commented, “Thank you. I’m letting it grow out.” Satoru wasn’t lying, it was extremely soothing having Satoru run his fingers through his hair. He fell silent, a small smile spreading across his face. 

It had been over a year of Satoru secretly longing to touch Suguru’s hair again. The time Suguru spent the night in his dorm, and his curiosity got the better of him, nearly changed his life. He couldn’t stop obsessing over it, his fingers itching every time he saw Suguru fix his bun. It was still so silky and beautiful as it fell through his fingers. For having such an excitable personality, he had a surprisingly gentle touch as he caressed Suguru’s locks.

“I admit, this is nice…” Suguru practically purred, sighing happily. He was definitely growing sleepy, allowing himself to let go and lean into the feeling of Satoru playing with his hair. 

“See? Now go to sleep.” 

Suguru did end up drifting off, but only for about thirty minutes. He awoke to two luminescent, ocean eyes staring right at him and jolted. “Jeez, Satoru, you scared the shit out of me.” He moved to sit up, but Satoru’s fingers were still tightly entwined in his hair. 

“Oh, sorry,” Satoru replied sheepishly, flushing and looking away. He pulled his hand back quickly so his friend could get up. 

Suguru stood and stretched his arms and back. He felt better, a lot better actually, his energy replenished. “I guess we can go, I can summon the- hey, where’s my hair tie?”

“Oh I lost it, sorry.” 

He lied. It was in Satoru’s pocket.

Suguru squinted at him, giving him a scrutinizing look. “You’re lying.” 

“Swear I’m not.” Satoru lifted his hands as if he was being interrogated by the police. 

“Guess we need to call Ichiji, then…” Suguru started with a mock sad tone, pouting and grabbing his phone from his pocket. “It’s not safe to fly with hair in my face.” He opened the phone, his thumb over the call button. 

Satoru groaned and rolled his eyes, shoving a hand in his pocket. “Oh, look at that, I found it. Oops, my bad,” he said sarcastically and flicked it over to Suguru. 

Suguru rolled his eyes back, muttering “Idiot” under his breath, and quickly tied his hair up in a tight bun. He strolled outside of the temple to find an open space to summon his new curse and Satoru trailed along. 

The rainbow dragon appeared out of a swirling mass of black energy, resting docilely on the grass near the temple. He was monstrously large up close, the top of his head alone big enough for both boys to lay down and spread out. Along its head and back was a soft mane. 

“This is such an upgrade!” Satoru exclaimed excitedly, placing his hand on the beast’s nose. It snorted, the dragon’s hot breath falling fluttering his hair. It still amazed him to see a once fearsome, aggressive enemy suddenly become Suguru’s house pet. His best friend had an amazing technique, there was no denying it. 

They clambered up onto the massive dragon, settling on the beast’s head in the middle of its horns. It certainly was an upgrade, the beast’s fluffy mane was comfortable and easy to grip onto. They were able to sit side-by-side. Suguru locked eyes with Satoru before placing a hand on the dragon. “Let’s go,” he commanded. It darted off faster and smoother than the stingray. Being in the sky with the beast felt like floating on a cloud, soft fur cushioning their legs as they soared. 

They weaved through clouds, dipped down to skate just above the ocean, and twisted around the entire island for hours. The pair rode around on the majestic dragon like it was a personal rollercoaster. Their cheeks started hurting from how much they were smiling, laughing, and screaming.

The pair lay on the rainbow dragon’s mane, side by side, staring up at the stars together. They hovered just outside of the academy grounds, the night sky clearing of clouds just in time for stargazing. 

“I think… yeah, this is definitely the best day of my life so far,” Satoru commented, a lazy grin on his face. 

Suguru looked over at him, admiring how his eyes reflected the night sky, creating two murky blue galaxies. “Oh yeah? Me too," he agreed with a smile.

“Besides that day you showed up to my door totally trashed, of course,” Satoru added with a laugh, sticking his tongue out.

Suguru pouted playfully, “Hey, ruin the moment, much?!” He laughed and gave Satoru a little shove, adding, “I must have really embarrassed myself then. I still don’t even remember anything. What did I even do?”

Satoru flushed a little. Unlike Suguru, his memory of that day was vividly clear. It altered his brain chemistry permanently and gained him his first best friend, too. “Oh, you were just being you, but more… silly, I guess. You gave me those sick sunglasses, too.” 

Suguru beamed, replying, “I’m glad you like them, Satoru. They really suit you.” 

Satoru’s flush deepened. He was thankful it was dark (and also for Suguru's normal eyes). He stretched out his arms, his hand grazing his friend’s gently. Heart hammering in his throat, he reached out a little more, clasping his hand around Suguru’s. 

Suguru looked down, then up at Satoru with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. He froze for a moment, then softened, his fingers gently slipping between Satoru’s. They lay silently for minutes, staring up at the stars with faces blushing, hearts racing, and fingers intertwining. 

They’re both thinking the same exact thoughts, fighting and struggling against the same exact bubbling embarrassment and shame keeping them from what they truly, desperately wanted and needed. 

I really want to kiss you.                       

                                          I really want you to kiss me. 

Finally, Suguru broke the silence, “Is this… something best friends do, Satoru?” 

Satoru took a quiet minute, swallowing nervously. How was Suguru the only person to make him feel anxious, out of everyone else in the world?

He looked at Suguru, a lovesick ache in his throat as he said, “Yeah. I like it.” 

Suguru smiled coyly in response. He squeezed his hand gently. 

“I like it too.”

Loveee these boys

Here's the rest:

[httpvomitello]

She Is My World (part 2) *⁠.⁠✧

TW: Teenage pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy

previous - She Is My World part 1

Donnie stepped out of the dojo, his heart still racing from the conversation with Splinter. He took a deep breath, feeling like he’d aged a few years in the span of a single conversation. He hadn’t fully prepared for the road ahead, but at least he had his father’s support.

Before he could even process his next steps, his brothers practically ambushed him, surrounding him in the hallway.

“So… it’s true?” Leo asked, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern.

“Bro,” Raph grunted, arms crossed, his usually stern expression softened with a hint of surprise. “Are you serious? Like… for real?”

Donnie shifted awkwardly under their gazes, nodding. “Yeah, it’s true. (Y/N) is pregnant.”

They all just stared at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to reveal it was some elaborate prank. But when he didn’t, the reality hit, and their reactions varied.

Raph let out a low whistle. “Man… I mean, I thought you and (Y/N) were serious, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I didn’t think this serious.”

Donnie swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the weight of their questions pressing down on him. “Yeah, trust me, I didn’t expect it either. But it happened, and I… I have to take responsibility.”

Leo smiled a little. “You know we’ll help you however we can.” He clapped a hand on Donnie’s shoulder, his eyes full of reassurance.

But then Mikey, wide-eyed and completely innocent, leaned in closer, curiosity radiating off him. “Wait, wait, wait.” He looked back and forth between his brothers, then locked eyes with Donnie, his face completely serious. “How did she, like… get pregnant?”

The question hung in the air like a firecracker that hadn’t yet exploded. Donnie’s face went beet red, and he stammered, trying to find a way to explain that wouldn’t end up in a full-blown anatomy lecture. “Uh, well… um… you know, it’s just… that’s kind of private, Mikey.”

Mikey tilted his head, oblivious to the awkwardness, his curiosity only growing. “But you gotta tell me, dude! I mean, does it just… happen? Like, you two held hands too long or something?” His eyes were as big as saucers, genuinely invested in understanding the mystery of pregnancy.

Donnie felt his face flush deeper as he struggled to keep his composure. “Mikey, no, that’s… that’s not how it works. It’s, uh, more complicated than that.”

Raph snickered, crossing his arms and grinning. “Come on, Don. You’re the genius here. Give Mikey the biology lesson.”

Leo shot Raph a warning look but couldn’t help suppressing a small smile. “Maybe… not the time, Raph.”

Mikey, however, was undeterred, staring at Donnie with all the persistence of a puppy. “Aw, come on! Just a quick explanation? You know… turtle to turtle?”

Donnie cleared his throat, desperately trying to maintain some dignity. “Mikey, let’s just say that it’s something that happens when two people love each other a lot and…”

“Yeah, I know all that,” Mikey said, nodding, though it was clear he was still a bit confused. “But I mean… like, how?”

Raph couldn’t resist, chuckling. “Geez, Mikey. You really don’t get it?”

Donnie was about to find some way to change the subject when Leo stepped in, saving him. “Look, Mikey, you don’t need all the details right now. Just know it’s something you will know when you are an adult. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Mikey relented, though he was still looking at Donnie with a mixture of awe and confusion. “Man, you’re gonna be a dad. That’s… huge.”

Donnie sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety swirling within him. “Trust me, I know. It’s… it’s terrifying, honestly. I still don’t know if I’m ready. But I don’t really have a choice anymore. I have to be.”

Leo nodded, giving Donnie a supportive smile. “ C'mon little bro, you know we will help you.”

Raph nodded. “Yeah, you may have messed up, but you’re owning up to it. That’s what counts.”

And then Mikey grinned and threw his arms around Donnie. “Hey, this means I get to be Uncle Mikey! Dibs on babysitting!”

[seungsuki]

birthday - it's your birthday silly! go and celebrate it! (gn!reader) warning: none note: dedicated this to a good friend- happy birthday from nini :3 i wish for you to achieve everything you ever wanted in life and i hope to continue being friends with you! a small gift from me because i can't send you anything <3 i wrote it extra long! hopefully you'll like it

the clock struck midnight, and before you sat a small cake on the table. on it were 2 candles, each with a digit to represent your age. the room was filled with the warmth of the people you loved, each one present to celebrate you. even william had set aside his papers to join in

"make a wish, darling," william said, his hand gesturing to the candles

louis appeared with a match, swiftly lighting the candles for you to blow out. you closed your eyes, clasping your hands together to think of your wish. after a moment, you opened your eyes and blew out the flames

“congrats on being one step closer to death”, albert joked

"what did you wish for?" louis asked, his voice full of curiosity

“i didn't really have much to wish for... i have everything here! what more could i ask for? i hope we all continue to be together forever”,  you replied with a smile, glancing around the room 

the room erupted with chattering once again. the small cake before you now etched with the memory of your wish. louis, ever the helpful one, removed the candles before passing you a knife.

"cut the cake?" william suggested, raising an eyebrow. “the perfect way to cut the cake is to find the angle first. seeing that it’s a 360 degrees cake, and we are a total of 7, that would mean-”

"it’s just a cake, william," you laughed, seeing him get worked up over it.

"apologies," william sighed, stepping back. "cut the cake however you like."

you couldn’t resist teasing him further and cut a small square from the perfectly round cake. william’s eyes widened in horror as he rushed over, snatching the knife from your hands.

"i’ll cut it," he said, shaking his head with a playful scowl. "you might hurt yourself."

"getting worked up over a cake? that's a skill," albert laughed, setting his wine glass aside.

fred walks up to you with a fresh batch of flowers from his garden. lavender roses, neatly tied together in a newspaper with a matching string (definitely not a hint of chapter one). you thanked him, touched by the gesture, before sitting next to albert, watching the chaos unfold.

william teaches louis the right method of the cake distribution, the latter listening carefully to his older brother's words. james laughs at the two while carrying your gifts closer to you. sebastian followed, and you looked at the pile of presents in surprise.

“all of this.. for me?”, you asked pointing at yourself 

“your husband didn't have a spending limit. he bought everything that reminded him of you”, sebastian teased, rolling his eyes 

“don’t forget me! i got you something too- everyone did! but not more than william”, james pointed at the orange box 

louis passed around plates of cake, each slice perfectly cut- except, of course, for the extra strawberry on your plate, a sign of favouritism that you didn’t mind in the least. you knew it was another gesture by your husband 

"happy birthday, my love," william said softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek before settling beside you with his own slice of cake and a cup of tea.

you look at him puzzled as it was rather late at night. he simply smiles, passing you the cup to have a sip before him. a gesture that never changed no matter how old you would get 

“i can’t eat cake without tea”, william explains 

the warm, honeyed sweetness of the tea melted you from the inside, perfectly complementing the rich, flavorful cake. you took a bite, savouring the familiar taste. as always, it tasted like home.

“it’s better than any store bought cake”, you remarked with a smile.

louis grinned modestly. "you flatter me. we didn’t have much time to prepare, but we tried. sorry if it’s not perfect."

"this is the best surprise i could ask for!" you reassured him, your heart full. "i wouldn’t change a thing."

"alright, alright," james interjected, growing impatient. "let’s open your presents! starting with mine!" he shoved the orange box toward you.

"fred’s technically first," sebastian corrected, pointing at the bouquet of flowers, but james was already bouncing with excitement.

"yeah, yeah, just open it!" james urged.

you set your empty plate aside and placed the orange box in your lap. you opened the lid, and inside was an expensive perfume. you gasp, eyes widen before looking back at james 

"this is too much!" you exclaimed, holding up the delicate glass bottle. "it must’ve cost a fortune!"

“not like i paid for it”, james muttered remembering taking the cash william left behind 

“i got you a poker set, i’ll teach you one day”, sebastian pointed at the teal box 

“thank you both for the lovely gifts”, you smiled placing the perfume into the box 

louis handed you a small yellow box. "you didn’t have to," you said quickly, but you could see his excitement. "the cake was more than enough."

"your reaction says otherwise," william teased, watching you open it with a smile.

“a pendant?” you ask 

you could see it open, and you did just that. inside was a small photo of your wedding photo, with your initials engraved in it 

“i hope it is your liking”, louis adds 

overcome with emotion, you got up and hugged him tightly. he held you just as firmly, not letting go until you were ready. 

“not going to open mine? im hurt”, albert comments at the green box 

"i will!" you said, breaking the hug and sitting back down to unwrap it.

inside was an elegant wine bottle, paired with a framed photo of your "family"- a tradition albert had started as your circle grew. you smiled as you picked up the frame, admiring the familiar faces of everyone you loved.

"i’ll take that," william said, grabbing the wine bottle and box from you with a soft chuckle.

"thank you, albert," you said, holding the photo close. "this means the world to me. i’ll keep it on my dresser."

“my gift for you”, william passed on a red box 

it was a small box, wrapped neatly with a matching ribbon. you open it and slide open a ring. simple silver ring, set with a small diamond.

“a ring? you didn't have to”, you smiled at him 

"there’s no one more worthy of this than you," william said, his eyes warm with affection.

you smiled at him, then at the ring. as he took the box from your hands and slid the ring onto your finger, you felt a rush of happiness. the cold metal was a reminder of how special this moment was- and how much he meant to you.

“get a room sheesh”, james teased, earning a groan from fred.

"thank you, everyone," you said again, your voice full of gratitude. "this is the best birthday i could have ever imagined."

you looked at william, your heart full. "i’ll treasure this ring forever."

… 

…

…

“i’ll treasure the ring forever” 

the white walls echo the same line you chant over and over. you sit in the middle, talking and laughing. the chattering in the room could be heard through the glass panel outside beside the door secured and locked 

you absentmindedly played with the ring on your finger, the pendant brushing against your skin. you open it to see his face once more. you sigh before going back into your daydreaming episodes 

“how is [name] doing..?”, mi6’s leader, louis, his eyes watching you from outside the room.

"patient 204 is getting worse day by day," the doctor replied, pushing up his glasses. "the hallucinations aren’t improving. we need to find whoever this 'william' is."

"my brother is [name]’s husband," louis replied, his tone serious. "we’re still searching for him."

"you’d better hurry," the doctor warned, looking over his glasses. "we don’t know how long we can keep patient 204 here before the london asylum finds catches us"

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images are from pinterest

[brainddeadd]

Heartbreak Girl

part 1

A few months had passed since that night on William’s couch. Life carried on as usual—they’d still hang out, laugh about dumb jokes, and text each other at all hours. But something had shifted, and for once, she was the one noticing it.

She didn’t know when she started looking at him differently, or why she felt this little spark every time his hand brushed hers. But lately, it was like every moment with William was filled with… something else. Something she couldn’t quite name.

It all came to a head one night after she’d gone out on another date that ended in disappointment. She texted William to come over, needing to talk it out like always, and as usual, he was there within minutes, no questions asked. When she opened the door, he was standing there, holding her favorite takeout and a lopsided grin.

“Ready to dissect yet another hopeless romantic disaster?” he joked, but his eyes were soft, concerned, like they always were when she’d been hurt.

She smiled, but this time, it was different. She really looked at him—the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead, the warm hazel in his eyes, the slight curve of his smile that she’d never realized could make her heart skip a beat. She felt something click inside her, like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

She couldn’t help herself. “Will,” she said, voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. “Have you ever… wondered why we always do this?”

He looked at her, his smile fading a little. “Do what?”

“This.” She gestured between them, searching his face. “Why you’re the one I always call when something goes wrong, and why you’re always there… even though you don’t have to be.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. “I mean… that’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, taking a deep breath. “But I don’t think that’s all this is, Will. At least, not anymore. I think I’ve been… missing something.”

A silence settled between them as he watched her, a thousand emotions passing over his face—surprise, hope, and something else that made her heart flutter.

She swallowed, gathering her courage. “That night a few months ago… when you said maybe the right guy was just waiting for me to notice him. Were you… talking about you?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yeah,” he finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I was.”

For a moment, everything around them fell away, and she could only see him, her best friend, the one who had been there all along. All those times he’d comforted her, made her laugh, stayed by her side—she suddenly realized how blind she’d been, how he’d been giving her little pieces of his heart all along.

“Will…” she said, her voice catching. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He gave a sad smile, shrugging. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I figured if it was meant to happen, it’d happen. I just wanted you to be happy.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it away gently, his touch sending a warmth through her that felt so different now. “You’re the one who’s been there for me through everything,” she said softly. “The one who’s always made me feel safe. I think I just… I was too scared to see it.”

“Then see it now,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m right here.”

She let out a small laugh, tears still in her eyes. “I see it, Will. I think I’ve always seen it, deep down. I just… needed to realize it.”

He smiled, and this time, it was a smile full of hope, warmth, and so much love that her heart felt like it could burst.

Slowly, he leaned in, giving her plenty of time to pull back. But she didn’t. She closed the gap between them, finally meeting his lips in a soft, tentative kiss that felt like coming home. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she melted into him, all the unspoken feelings between them finding a voice at last.

When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, a soft laugh escaping her. “So, I guess… I’m your heartbreak girl?”

He chuckled, holding her tighter. “Not anymore,” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine now. For real.”

And in that moment, with her best friend’s arms around her, she knew she’d finally found everything she’d been searching for.

[dairy-farmer]

I know your focus is Tim, but imagine him seeing Dick Grayson slutting it up from the moment he was adopted by Bruce and taking after his idol

Like I imagine that Tim, with his stalker tendencies, does a deep dive into Dick's background and what all he was up to from like 10 onwards. When he finds out that Dick was pregnant when Bruce took him in, Tim is enraptured. They hid it well enough that the public hasn't noticed, but Tim found the info he wanted by hacking into the Batcomputer before he's Robin. There he finds out that Dick was being passed around the circus like a little toy, no clue who the baby daddy was, but Bruce took him and the baby in anyways and let Dick continue being a slut

Dick gets pregnant again after his first baby (the baby isn't Bruce's, surprisingly, but could be from one of three people: Jim Gordon, Alfred, or Slade), but then takes a break to focus on being Robin and raising his babies. He gets pregnant again right before he's fired from Robin and runs off to Bludhaven, so he had a baby at 13, 14, and 17. Tim is surprised that Bruce didn't father any of the babies, nor did he seem to fuck Dick at all. Turns out Bruce genuinely cared for Dick in a platonic manner while everyone else lusted after the little slut

So Tim follows in Dick's footsteps. First things first, the second he gets his period, get knocked up. Doesn't matter by who, or where it happens, it just has to happen. And it does! He manages to get knocked up by his dad, his baby born before he turns 13. He waits three months like Dick did between his first and second pregnancies, and then he's pregnant again (not sure who, maybe his dad knocks him up again? Or he lets a group of random men run a train on him? Idk)

This time tho, instead of doing what Dick did and waiting a few years before his third baby, Tim, now Robin and freshly five months postpartum finds himself being fucked hard and fast in the batmobile before patrol. He gets pregnant quickly and has Bruce's baby just a few days before he turns 15. At that point, Tim figures if he still wants to do things like Dick Grayson, then his next baby will be fucked into him by one of three men (Jim, Alfred and Slade), and the baby after that he'll have after a gangbang with the entire Titans team, just like how Dick had his third baby. The only difference is that this will be Tim's fourth baby, and while Dick was 17 when he got pregnant and 18 when he delivered, Tim is just a few months into being 16 when he has his mystery Titans baby

Bruce has a lot of pent up horny energy from when Dick was still slutting it up under his roof, and he absolutely takes it out on Tim (and keeps him pregnant for much longer than he knows he should, but Tim loves it so damn much, and he always looks so good, waddling heavily with his big pregnant belly, his small throng of children following him and clutching his skirts and dresses), and let's others take Tim as well

Bonus thought for Dick LOVING his slutty baby brother and they get up to a lot of shit together (mostly of the sex variety), even getting gangbanged by the JL and both getting knocked up from it and going through pregnancy together. Tim meanwhile has never been happier or felt more grateful for how his life turned out

brutim

!!!! tim took gymnastics lessons because dick was an acrobat of course he'd follow in his footsteps to become the best slut he could!! anything to be more like great and wonderful dick grayson!!!

i LOVE that bruce didn't fuck dick but he did fuck tim! especially since staying under the same roof often meant bruce was privy to the noises that came from his ward's room. meaning bruce's sexual frsutration has been building up for years, its only natural he keep tim pregnant as a result 🥰!!!

[quinnverse]

Emma fought to ignore his comment, not wishing for his words to unravel her so soon. She had been caught off guard by his presence one too many times thus far and she refused to let it happen again. Whatever came of this encounter, she would make sure she came out on top. Especially if it meant having him beneath her.

"I beg your pardon?" She blanched at Caleb's comment, raising her hands in protest. "I assure you I am not taken by Mister Bolton. The only thing this gentleman takes from me is my patience. And perhaps a bit of my sanity, for good measure." Ignoring the twitch in her brow, Emma tugged on a smile for show and continued her charade for the stranger. But as soon as Ben opened his mouth and attempted friendly small talk, Emma rejected such notions.

"Really? Strange, I thought you preferred keeping swine between your legs." The jibe came out quicker than she could control and, instead of blushing furiously as she would've in front of any other man, Emma straightened her posture and tried to stand her ground. The ruddy color on her cheeks be damned, she would not let him win. After a moment, she turned her attention back to Caleb, adorning her saccharine tone once more.

“I would never lie about such a thing, sir. I’m sure if you ask your friend, he’ll vouch that I am a woman of my word.” Perhaps too much so, she thought, but bit her tongue. Emma did find the stranger oddly charming, but any appeal he had was dampened by the presence of her opponent. "Though maybe he wouldn't, given he's so smitten with me."

His friend's responses were friendly enough that Emma didn't feel the need to be on guard as much as she would've expected. For a stranger, he was jovial and upbeat and she appreciated such a change in pace. He reminded her of the sorts of men she used to see by the docks, tossing cargo into ships and bantering loudly into the salty air. Whenever her father would let her accompany him to the loading sites, he would warn her not to pay any mind to the men's chatter, but Emma had never been the typoe to follow orders. Instead, she paid closer attention to everything the seamen said and grinned as they hurled vulgarities at one another.

As for this new stranger, Emma regarded him with a sincere smile, admiring the brash and careless demeanor he wore with such ease. If only she could carry herself in such a reckless manner, she thought to herself, she might not have been caught in such a sticky situation. If only she could bring herself not to care what other people said, she wouldn't be trapped in this stupid bet.

“No, I confess, I’m not entirely educated on the matter, but I’m eager to know all there is to know about... Well, everything. And thankfully, I’m a quick study.” She shot him a playful wink, stepping closer to him, ignoring the looming form of John Bolton in her peripheral.

“A legal pirate, eh? Color me impressed. And here I thought handsome pirates only existed in storybooks.” She fluttered her lashes and smirked. In another life, she might've found herself genuinely charmed by a man like him, but Emma was too caught up in her ulterior motives to dwell on such a thought. And as guilty as she ought to have felt for planning to use such deceitful tactics against an innocent man, she had a feeling only one of the men would truly mind in the end.

"She can count, if that's what you mean," He quipped and Emma shot him an icy look. If it were anyone else on the opposite end of a joke, she would've laughed it off, and perhaps thrown her own self-deprecating jibe in for good measure. But knowing that such a comment came from him make her want to spit on his shoe and smack him all over again. He could try to embarrass her all he wanted in private, but she wouldn't let him do so in front of potential business partners.

Fighting the urge to grumble and stalk off, she bit her longue, pressing her lips into a thin line. Truthfully, Emma was surprised that Mister Bolton had been so quick to admit she could count, given how little she figured he thought of her. But she wouldn't let one comment ruffle her feathers. Not yet.

“Actually, now that you mention it, I think I would enjoy some company on my ride.” It took every ounce of willpower in her body to ignore Ben as she kept her eyes trained on the other, smiling as sweetly as she could muster. Worst case scenario, she thought, one of the men walked away with an ego boost. And as long as she walked away a victor, she didn't care what had to be done to achieve it.

“Mister Finnegan, if you’re not terribly busy, I would love to continue our discussion.” After a long moment, Emma finally drew her eyes away from Caleb and flicked them to her true target. Meeting his gaze, she fought to keep the blush on her cheeks at bay. She couldn't let her body betray her plans. “Mister Bolton, you wouldn’t mind being chaperone, would you? Just to make sure I keep my hands to myself, of course.”

Despite her words alluding to such untoward behaviors with his associate, Emma couldn't ignore the memory of her hands exploring the landscape of John Bolton's body. An image of his bare chest flashed in her mind and all she could think of was the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers, the warmth of him against her own body. A breath hitched in her throat, the mental visual causing the flush in her cheeks to brighten.

Damn him, she wanted to hiss. She swore to herself that she wouldn't get attached to him, that she wouldn't form any sort of attraction to him. He was horrible and rude and arrogant. He was not someone she wanted to like. It was all an act. She wasn't actually interested in John Bolton, she merely wanted him to fall into a false sense of security before she pulled the rug out beneath him. But the fear that she might be getting too caught up in her own scheme grew stronger by the day.

Flirting normally came so easily for her, and yet Emma was finding it difficult to angle her affections towards someone else when the object of her desire stood so close. If the other night hadn't happened, she might've been able to wear her indifferent façade for a lot longer. She might've been able to ward off such lewd thoughts in favor of winning the game. But now that she knew what it felt like to kiss him, to touch him, and to feel his hands running over her body... It was hard to remain focused on the task at hand.

Emma's voice held the frigid chill of ice. The pointed edge of her greeting was palpable, yet Caleb mercifully said nothing while Benjamin inclined his head by way of answer. "Miss Dunster," he offered in return. "Are we truly to be so formal on this day? I would think that you and I could drop such charades, seeing how close we've grown."

It was a low blow, both to her and himself, if he was being honest, because he was still deeply ashamed by his actions. But if he could prove himself unruffled, then perhaps he could still win this game, after all.

Emma focused on greeting Caleb instead -- probably wise, all things considered -- and the whaler laughed at her demure response. "Can't say I've heard 'it's lovely to meet you' before," he teased, winking. "Is your judge of character truly so piss-poor? Then again..." Here, he gave Benjamin a friendly wallop to the shoulder. "You seem mighty taken by this here gollumpus, so I guess that answers my question."

Benjamin stiffened at the jest, irritably pushing Caleb's hand away from his arm. "It's called being polite, Finnegan. Perhaps you should try it out sometime." He once more moved to entreat Emma to allow a chaperone, but she was quite adamant in her denial.

"A burden?" he echoed. A genuine, incredulous smile touched his lips. "It's hardly a burden to accompany you on horseback. It's one of my favorite pastimes, and, as it so happens, one of my favorite animals as well."

Emma remained immovable. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.” Her cheeks grew florid within the early morning sun, and her hands tightened to the point he swore he heard the leather squeak of her riding gloves. To Caleb, she said, “I’d love to hear more about the haul, if you don’t mind sharing. Mister Bolton doesn’t seem to think women are capable of thinking of anything beyond fripperies, but you look like a clever enough man. I'm sure you don’t share the same ignorant opinion as your associate.”

Caleb bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "I do, do I? Gadso, I can see why Johnny-boy here is so smitten! You're mighty generous with the compliments -- even if they're clearly lies."

Benjamin sighed, embarrassment flooding his face as his friend gave a sound thump to his arm. "Yes, well..." Avoiding Emma's gaze, he muttered, "She's lovely, so...I'm certain anyone with eyes can see that. That hardly makes a man smitten."

Mercifully, Emma seemed intent on bringing the conversation back to commerce -- the true reason for their stay.

“I'm sure Mister Bolton forgot to mention that I am in line to inherit the family business--he doesn't seem to think me capable of such a feat--so I am intrigued to hear how things are coming along for your privateering. Do you dabble in hogs as well?"

Caleb snorted. "You must not know much about privateerin', eh? No disrespect, o' course. I 'dabble' in whatever we find as prizes. Hogs certainly do come up -- I supply some of them to Johnnyboy's farm -- but we also get varying kegs o' booze, weaponry, ammo, textiles, you name it! We have a letter of marque to legally attack and take over certain ships, so I'm just doin' my part." Here, he gave a cheeky salute. "I've gotta say: I am intrigued by a lady business partner. Do ya like your numbers?"

"She can count, if that's what you mean," Benjamin supplied, looking Emma's way with a smirk. "Are you sure you won't let us join you, Miss Dunster? You look a little peaked."

[gyuluttony]

gonna do something somewhat out there and out of nowhere. i just finished kinktober on my like... main wg account so i've missed doing kpop wg so i'm coming back with... zb1 SDFJSDF gunwook been attacking me lately so he's going to be the one feeling it now.

All-in

This is a feederism fic and features weight gain and unintentional weight gain. Don't like, don't read.

There was a dreamy sort of sigh that left the table in the library and it took one paper flying to cause the source of it to make an annoyed expression. "Yah! Kim Gyuvin!" The warm tone of Gunwook sounded a little more frustrated than usual as his friend held his finger in front of his lips, to shush him.

"You can't be too loud in the library, Gunwook~" The teasing tone almost made him jump over the table to show him who could be louder of the two before he felt the pointed gazes of the students around them and buried his head in his textbook, muttering curses towards his friend who barely had enough mercy to add quietly, "Just because Matthew hyung is here doesn't mean you should neglect your work."

His long crush on the older friend of theirs was something that was practically known by everyone in their friend group. And something that he couldn't help but get embarrassed about everytime someone pointed it out. He wasn't that subtle about it... and it wasn't aided by the fact that Matthew tended to treat him nicer than his heart knew how to react with.

"Gyuvin, I swear if you don't stop talking about it when he's this close by, I-" The words that left Gunwook were growing more threatening by the moment before he heard a loud exclamation. "Oh, Gyuvinnie and Gunwookie!" It was always nice that Matthew didn't seem to care about the negative glances for the loud volume but he only belated realized, offering a small apology and a sweet smile that no one could stay mad at as he approached.

"O-oh, hyung! Good to see you." Gunwook was severely underprepared for the way that Matthew sat next to him and leaned on his shoulder while Gyuvin tried not to laugh.

"H-hi, hyung." Gyuvin imitated his stammer which got a death glare shot in his direction before Matthew spoke again, "I didn't know you guys were studying here... but I brought some snacks for Taerae since he said that he wanted some." Gunwook tried his best not to visibly deflate at the thought before the snacks were placed in front of him.

"Huh? What are you doing, hyung?" Matthew stuck his tongue out as he added, "No one said he needed to get them all. I bought a lot so you can just have the extra instead. I know how much you love to eat." There was a pat on his head from the older man and Gunwook did his best to not beam before opening the box. Gyuvin rolled his eyes from across the table, texting someone about what he was witnessing in front of him.

While he dug into the snacks and made conversation with Matthew there were some things that came to mind. Taerae was a little bit on the heavier side. Not fat but chunky was a good way to describe him. It only made his dimples and smiles cuter and nicer to hug, something that Matthew was incredibly fond of. He had believed that Matthew was someone who had a crush on Taerae for a very long time... so maybe that was what he was missing.

Gunwook was a good gym buddy for Matthew... but what if he wanted something that was a little bit softer. Was that the best way to capture his attention? With a renewed vigor, Gunwook ate the snacks that Matthew had brought even faster, surprising both of his company. "Hyung, do you have any more?"

Gyuvin wasn't unaware to the way that Matthew's face seemed to warm up as he stammered for a response for a moment before furiously texting Ricky. They had made a bet on when something would happen between them after all but he couldn't really afford it to happen now... he was going to lose the bet.

"All I have is the stuff for Taerae... how about..." Matthew bit his lip with a smile that he was failing to hide. "I bring these to him and we can head out for something to eat?" Gunwook's eyes brightened before Matthew nearly stumbled out to get the treats to Taerae. Gunwook began to pack his notes while Gyuvin looked at him, "Seriously?"

"You told me to stop staring... so I'm doing something about it." Considering how smart Gunwook is, it should have occurred to him that Matthew practically sprinted back to him so that they could head out to get food while Gyuvin was trying to ease up Ricky on the bet so he wouldn't owe him too much.

-

As he jumped in his dorm room, Gunwook felt his face burn, feeling the way that the flab jiggled, trying to squeeze every possible extra inch of himself into the pants that no longer fit into his frame. It was almost like a dam was broken that day.

He had stopped going to the gym as much with Matthew but he was seeing him just as much, if not more. They were always getting food since Matthew excused it as wanting to treat his dongsaeng. But, Gunwook didn't realize that not working out combined with Matthew's constant treats would have results this fast.

He'd already let out this pair of pants twice since upsizing and now, his belly was sticking out from his body, proud and bloated with fat. Or food considering that Matthew treated him most meals in a day. It was always nice when he insisted on Gunwook trying something new and he loved it.

It's not like the weight was solely tied to his prominent belly but it settled in his thighs and glutes which wasn't really aiding the pants situation. They clung tightly to the plump thighs as well as didn't even make halfway up his ass as he tried hopping into them again, hearing a faint tear of fabric and how much the fat on his body jiggled at the motion.

While looking at himself in the mirror, Gunwook's hand absentmindedly rubbed his belly as he felt his face flush. Matthew had been a lot more touchy with him recently. Either holding his love handles or even sneaking squeezes on his belly which always made him think he was on the right track to getting his attention. After all, him blowing up was for him as well.

But, there was an enjoyment he was getting out of it as well. Feeling the way that his body expanded, burst out of belts sometimes and even was starting to get stuck in booths at the restaurants they frequented... there was a bliss in this... he just wanted to do it properly with Matthew at his side and just like his appetite, it was insatiable. He was no longer content with just being friends.

There was a knock on his dorm door. They had already made plans to go out again and while he wasn't ready in the slightest, he knew that his outfit (or lack of since he didn't fit in the button down that couldn't even close or his pants) would get the answer he wanted.

Opening the door, he heard Matthew's voice. "Gunwookie~ Are... you..." The happy voice trailed off before he looked down at the gut that was staring straight at him as he swallowed dryly. "I'm up here, hyung." Matthew's gaze needed to be torn away from the plump mass before Gunwook smiled. "Wanna order in?"

The feeling of Matthew's muscular body crashing into him and jostling his belly enough that the buttons he managed to get closed break told him everything that he needed. He had went all-in and got the pay out that he wanted... and soon, he was sure that he'd need to upsize again anyways now that his boyfriend was showing him just how much he appreciated that excess on his body.

[thursdayinspace]

Mulder in "Little Green Men" (s2ep1). He's so lonely. What's interesting to me is the contrast to Mulder from the pilot and Mulder here. We got an idea in the pilot of how lonely he must be, but he had been on his own for a while and that was his default. Seeing him at the beginning of s2 is heartbreaking. At the begining of s1 he was so used to being alone. But now . . . Of course the fact that the x files have been closed is getting to him, but it also becomes so obvious how much he has come to rely and depend on having Scully around, on working with someone. With her.

Their meeting in the parking garage -- he feels like he has lost his purpose, even doubts his memories and his experiences, he feels like everything they've been through hasn't been worth it because they've accomplished nothing. We don't know how or if he would have managed to surface from that eventually on his own. Most likely he would have. But it might have taken him a long time. It's Scully who doesn't let him give up: "During your time with the X-Files, you've seen so much." / "Even if George Hale only saw elves in his mind, the telescope still got built. Don't give up. And next time we meet out in the open." (Which becomes a recurring theme over the years, all the way up to the revival. But that would deserve its own post.) (The way she touches his hair before she leaves though. <3)

What kills me in this episode is Mulder recording his tape for Scully in Puerto Rico: "Deep Throat said "Trust no one." And that's hard, Scully, suspecting everyone, everything. It wears you down. You even begin to doubt what you know is the truth. Before, I could only trust myself. Now, I can only trust you, and they've taken you away from me." I mean, compare that to pilot Mulder? Not trusting anyone was what he did. That was Mulder. He may or may not have been showing off a little bit for Scully, but he seemed to have made quite a home for himself in his lone wolf existence (out of necessity). He can't do that anymore. He needs something to hold onto. And he had that in his partnership with Scully.

Also. THEY'VE TAKEN YOU AWAY FROM ME. Can we take a second to appreciate what that means? He knows she would not have chosen to leave. He believes that. He trusts her absolutely. She's become a lifeline for him. Put that together with his quote from the end of the episode: "I may not have the X-Files, Scully, but I still have my work. And I’ve still got you. And I still have myself." The order of those statements seems important: He thought he had lost his purpose in the beginning of this episode. He wasn't even sure whether or not he still believed in it. Now he has motivation again.

And he has Scully. She stuck around, not just because of the work. When he was at his lowest, she arranged secret meetings for them, told him not to give up, even followed him all the way to Puerto Rico. He doesn't believe she'd have chosen to leave if the x files hadn't been closed, but I don't think he was sure she'd stick around forever without a reason. But she's relentless in her loyalty and friendship -- a trait he recognizes because it's one they share. He will never choose to leave her, and is allowing himself to trust that she's still there because she wants to be.

Finally, he's also got himself. Among all the things he'd lost at the beginning of the episode, the biggest loss was himself. But he was mourning everything except that. Those "good riddance @ former me" vibes were strong at the beginning of the episode -- and of course they were a form of grief. But it almost feels like he wanted to punish himself, blame himself for everything that went wrong. (That is also something we keep seeing. The show has amazing continuity with things like that. Things get to him. He takes failure really hard. He's not gentle with himself.) So this is the culmination of the previous two points: he has his purpose back, and he has someone who cares about him, who has his back, someone he loves (and I am going to use that term here even if it's debatable how aware they are of their feelings at this point; there are so many forms of love, and I think it's not up to debate that they love each other in some way, possibly even a way they may not even know about yet).

It's such a strong episode for him, and I love all the ways it mirrors the pilot and contrasts the Mulder from back then with the Mulder a year later. So much has happened, and neither he nor Scully are the same people they were, and that's life. It's so well done.