#I'd say ''when I'm with you'' as well but I'm kinda lost on what to compare it to

[vimbry]

random sparks recs for tmbg fans who want to get into them (based on general lyricism/instrumental energy):

wonder girl (if you like: unreleased dial-a-song demos, pink)

fletcher honorama (if you like: unreleased dial-a-song demos, then/misc T, pink, factory showroom, the else, nanobots)

B.C. (if you like: then/misc T, flood, apollo 18)

talent is an asset (if you like: then/misc T, pink)

those mysteries (if you like: lincoln, factory showroom, long tall weekend, join us)

goofing off (if you like: lincoln, factory showroom, join us)

beat the clock (if you like: then/misc T, pink, mink car)

angst in my pants (if you like: then/misc T, pink)

eaten by the monster of love (if you like: then/misc T, lincoln, flood, the spine)

funny face (if you like: pink, mink car)

national crime awareness week (if you like: mink car, indestructible object)

dick around (if you like: john henry, factory showroom, long tall weekend, the else, glean)

lighten up, morrissey (if you like: john henry, the spine, the else, glean)

strange animal (if you like: the spine, the else, join us, nanobots, BOOK)

[ddejavvu]

MEI i have severe top gun maverick brain rot and all i can think about is reader being the admirals daughter and everyone assumes rooster or hangman is gonna go after her but it turns out she’s been hooking up with bob for AGES and they’re all like ??? how did you do that???? bob gets kinda flustered but readers just like idk he was really nice and he’s really good in bed

"Check it out," Phoenix elbows Bob where the man is engrossed in reading the back of the bar napkins Penny had handed them so that they didn't stain her tables again, "There's Mav's daughter. 'Think she's got that Hawaiian shirt on to seduce Rooster?"

Bob's eyes dart to where you're chatting with Penny, his shoulders stiffening as his friends turn to watch you.

"Nah, Rooster doesn't like orange. But those cowboy boots she's got on are probably for Hangman- didn't he say he'd teach her how to square dance?"

Penny reaches over the bar to tug affectionately at one of your braids and Bob tries to no avail to break the conversation.

"Actually, she's-"

"I'd say she was here to meet Fanboy, but she doesn't date losers," Phoenix's eyes are narrowed dangerously, and she hides a smirk against the rim of her bottle.

"Hey! Hangman's a bigger loser than I am!" He protests, but before the taller man can trap him in a headlock, Penny points towards the dagger squad where they're lounged in a corner of the bar, and your eyes shine as you rush over.

"Bob!" You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your legs bend when he hoists you off of the ground for a hearty hug. His muscles are well hidden beneath his regulation khakis, but he's built for much heavier loads than you, and he lets you hover a few inches off of the ground while he hugs you.

Your face is buried in his neck but you press a kiss against his cheek, catching the bewildered blinking of the rest of his squadron over his shoulder.

"Oh. I forgot you didn't know." You supply, your feet back on the ground as Bob keeps one arm slung loosely around your waist, "Sorry, we- uh, we've been hooking up for a while, it's just... I haven't seen him since you guys got shipped out."

"You've been hooking up with her?" Coyote stares down his nose at Bob who shifts subtly closer to you, nodding once, stiffly in the face of his teammate's scrutiny.

"Damn. And he was good enough in bed to keep you waiting 'til he got back?"

Bob flushes - you feel his skin warm where it's pressed against your own, and you fill the awkward silence.

"Oh, please. I'm sure you've seen it in the locker room; I'd wait a lifetime."

Bob scoffs over your shoulder, now even more flustered, but Phoenix is happy to save the situation.

"Does your dad know?" She tilts her chin towards you, remembering how viscerally uncomfortable their Captain had been whenever someone had suggested you get together with one of his aviators.

"Of course he knows," You laugh, "He's the one that set us up! 'Said Bob had to get his hands on me before Texas over there tried to Hold 'Em."

Bob wraps an arm protectively over your chest, leaning over your shoulder from behind to return a kiss against your own cheek.

Hangman whistles lowly, shaking his head with a dazed look, "Well, shit. I didn't know the offer to hold 'em was on the table, but-shit!"

Bob's face darkens but Rooster levels the toe of his boot with Hangman's lower thigh, striking him at the back of the knee and subsequently spilling beer over his khakis. Hangman grunts as his knees knock against the beer-sticky floor, but he seems to know he deserved what he'd gotten because he doesn't retaliate.

"We'll wrangle him." Rooster promises, "You two go have fun, Bob you gotta quarter for the jukebox?"

"Yes'sir," Bob nods, tugging you towards a lesser populated area- perfect for slow dancing even if the bar isn't, "Let's make up for lost time, honey."

[ifangirlalot]

if ur still taking requests i would love to see submissive miles fairchild or sal fisher, the thought of either writhing under u, whiny and needy is just too good

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐎𝐏!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐒𝐔𝐁!𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ˎˊ˗ | starring miles fairchild & sal fisher

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: sub boyfriend, dom reader, tip rubbing, edging, degradition, orgasm denial, dick riding, face sitting

OMG! FINALLY I WAS HOPING I'D GET A SAL REQUEST! nnnnyahhh

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Miles Fairchild ˚ ☁️

Miles is sputtering beneath me, his eyelids fluttering almost helplessly as he babbles incoherently with every up and down motion of my body. Despite how controlling and demanding he is, how intimidating he is, it surprisingly wasn't very hard to turn into a whimpering, stuttering mess. Turns out, it's a lot easier to do so when he isn't actually in the house. Quint's influence can't touch him if he's not on the property.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love Miles fucking me into submission and degrading me to the fullest, but it's so amazing that I could reduce a headstrong, controlling, dominant force into nothing more than a pile of whimpering, begging filth.

Slowly, I reach my hand down and wrap it around his throbbing cock, pressing my thumb against his clothed tip. In response, Miles let out a surprisingly high pitched whine, his back arching slightly. "A-ah.. oh no, Mistress.. n-no, not there, I don't wanna cum yet.. n-no please.." he begs softly, eyes still squeezed shut as though he's afraid of he looks at me his cock will explode with cum.

"Hush." I say gently, yet firmly. I've quickly discovered that Miles prefers to be praised, which fits well with the person that he is. Miles normally doesn't like to be told he's doing something wrong. It wounds his otherwise enormous ego. Which is what I want. Ignoring him, I go back to rubbing his leaking tip through his boxers.

"No, Miss! P-pleaseeeee..! Oh please, I'll do anything just please don't make me cum.. I want your pussy, I want your boobs, please.. oh GOD please!" Miles continues to beg. I roll my eyes like it's a chore for me and slowly pull his boxers down to his knees, allowing his fully erect dick to bounce out, almost hitting his stomach. For such a skinny guy, Miles is packing some heat down there. If Miles were in charge, he'd be making me tell him how big it is. Except now, I'm the one in charge, and that brings a smirk to my face.

Miles let out another tiny whimper, and I can feel him watching my face, trying to gauge my reaction to his cock, so hard and ready for me. But I keep my face blank and impassive on purpose, just to beat his ego a little.

"I-it's big.. right Mistress?.." Miles finally asks, tentatively.

It is big. It's really big, actually. But the point of this whole scenario is to humble him, so I shrug, which damn near brings Miles to tears, based on his hurt look. But he very noticeably doesn't use the safe word I gave him, so... Maybe he kinda likes being put in his place?

"Size doesn't matter, my love. Now shut up and I'm gonna ride you, okay?" I smirk and reach for the pack of condoms in Miles's nightstand. Miles doesn't like to use condoms, he says he doesn't like the feel of latex on his cock. But, just tonight, I'm going to make him wear a condom. In all seriousness, if he's going to accidentally knock me up, I'd rather it be on one of the nights he's railing me straight into his bed.

When he sees where my hand is going, he whines in protest and starts to squirm. "Oh no.. n-no, ma'am, please no condom, y-you know I don't like them, please.."

"You'll wear it and you'll fucking like it or you'll have to use your hand." I say firmly, my jaw set.

Miles whimpers and squirms more, begging a little more feebly now. "B-but.. you like t-to.. f-feel my.. my cum.." He gulps as I pull out a single packet and rip it open. He whimpers again, knowing that he's lost.

"Shut up, or I'll stuff my underwear into your mouth to shut you up myself." I say, my voice low and commanding.

Miles's face goes bright red and he moans lowly, a shudder ripping through his body.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Sal Fisher ˚ ☁️

"Pleasepleaseplease, just.. just let me.. please I want to, I-I want.." Sal's words are coated with a whimper. Drool pooling out of his heavily scarred mouth. His prosthetic lays on the bedside table, the straps hanging limply over the edge. Without his mask, he can't stop drooling, due to the hole torn into the side of his cheek. Most people would think his face is grotesque, but to me it's weirdly beautiful.

Sal's hands are tied together to the bedframe, his lean body squirming underneath mine.

"Shh.. shh.. not right now, we're only just starting, baby.." I say softly, cupping his cheek as my thumb caresses his cheek. My affection makes him whine quietly as he pushes his face against my hand, seeking more. I smile and slowly pull my hand away. I put my hands on his sides to hold him steady as I slowly start to ride him a little harder. He writhes under me and moans out loudly, pushing his hips quickly against mine.

"Mommy.. mommy.. pleasepleasepleasepleaseee.. Gonna.. gonna cum.. m-mm.. I g-gotta.." Sal's adorably pathetic whines almost make me want to give in... but no. That would be too kind. I can see his hands struggling against the restraints, trying to reach out to touch me. His one real eye is glazed over with tears, like he's trying to coax me into untying his hands so he can grab me and hold me against him while he fucks himself into me.

I wrap my hand around his wrists and hold them tight while I bounce my hips quickly. "Don't you cum, Sally. If you cum we'll have to keep going until I want to stop."

He moans loudly and shakes his head in a somewhat lazy way. "N-nuh.. nuh.. oh please no, c-can't take it.."

Eventually, I slowly pull myself off him. His cock is so coated with fluids, both his and mine, that it's shiny with it. I smirk and grab a handful of his electric blue hair and hold his head down as I slowly sink onto his face.

Sal is really good at having his face ridden.

His tongue immediately gets to work swirling around. I moan quietly and tilt my head back, my mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Oh yeah.. that's my good boy.."

His tongue is coated with moisture and it's cold, which makes it all the more better. I rock my hips quicker, clutching his hair harder, causing him to whimper muffledly against my pussy.

Oh, this is going to be an incredibly fun night for me.

[snailpebbles]

teach me kisses? - OP81

summary: oscar teaches you to kiss ig. gone right.

wc: 2k

tags: fluff, tooth rotting, maybe suggestive, uhh kinda sad but not for them lmao, not proofread

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

It was safe to say Oscar was a little more than concerned to receive a text from you in the middle of a relatively chill day, asking for him to come over. Of course he does seeing as it's impossible to deny you, his best friend of six years. He rushed around his flat unsure of what to grab, so he settles on a multitude of items: Advil, Tylenol (for variety, you tend to get picky), a hoodie with his cologne, and another hoodie (once again, variety).

While making the drive to your flat, he stops by a corner store to grab a few more items on the rare chance you might be upset with him. The bell dings as he steps into the family-owned shop, most definitely older than him if the kind old lady behind the counter was anything to go by. It's mostly empty, the short aisles containing various items, but he knows what he wants. Settling on a nice bouquet of pink tulips alongside your favorite soda, Oscar makes his way to the counter.

The cashier smiles at his items and makes idle conversation with the young man, feeling some sort of interest within him.

"She the lucky girl, or are you a lucky man?" She asks, chuckling softly as she fixes up the flowers to look more presentable. Oscar's face tints pink, an awkward side smile pulling on his lips.

"Oh shes- well-" He stumbles for his words, suddenly seeing you in a new light he'd previously pushed down in the fear of losing you. "lucky man." Is the answer he settles on, giving a slight huff of laughter to ease his own nerves that the old woman doesn't share. She hands him the flowers and soda, patting his left hand as she does.

"My Willis and I have been together since the fifties, so listen to me when I tell you...cherish each other." A nostalgic smile lights up her face, previous youth shining through. Pictures hang on the corkboard behind her, all featuring that youth beside a young man.

"He was lost in the war, but those few years were the best of my life." She sighs softly, a shaking hand tracing along a picture of Willis. "You keep that girl close, or my umbrella and I just might have to find you." Oscar nods at her comment, taking it to heart.

"I'd never hurt her, Gods help me if I did." He mutters, placing his credit card back in his wallet, a picture of you beaming at the camera greeting him momentarily further softening his heart.

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

Your doorbell startles you even through you'd been pacing in front of it for the past ten minutes, debating every choice that has led you here. Trembling hands brush invisible dust off your pajamas and regret fills you for not looking more presentable. Peering through the peephole, you are greeted by Oscar rocking on his heels in the hall, your favorite flowers in hand.

The door flinging open surprises him, as does your hand tugging him inside. Within a flurry of motion the tulips are put in a vase, the soda is already half chugged, and multiple thank yous meet his ears. You're a tornado of movement and he has to catch you by the shoulders, stilling you in front of him with a worried gaze.

"Did something happen? Are you alright?" He asks, eyes scanning you and definitely not lingering.

Definitely.

"No I'm fine Osc, no need to act like a worried mother." You wave his concerns off, moving to set on your comfy sofa, soda still in hand. He settles down beside you, placing his stuffed to the brim backpack by his feet. He unzips it and a hoodie half falls out, one that he places in your lap. "Why..are you cold?" He smiles awkwardly at your question, now feeling like an idiot.

"No uhm, well I was worried so I might have...over prepared." Before he can hide his backpack you're already rifling through it, awing at each thoughtful item.

"You brought me drugs! How kind." You snicker, holding up the Advil and Tylenol. Oscars already red face only turns a darker shade and he snatches them away from you.

"I didn't bring you drugs- well technically I did- but I thought you were sick or something!" He defends, placing the bottles back in his bag. An apologetic smile forms on your face and your hand falls to his shoulder, appreciation only rising for the sweet man before you. What country did you save in a past life to warrant such blessing?

"Not sick, but I do have a bit of a request for you." Your hands twist nervously in your lap, the inside of your bottom lip chewed raw at this point. Oscar dips his head to meet your gaze, making you feel warm all over from his attentiveness. "You need to promise me that you won't laugh, okay?" Oscar nods, shifting closer to you.

"I promise I won't laugh." He murmurs, worry internally taking him over as thoughts rush through his mind. Did you take your ex back? Are you sick and lying to him? Oh God do you have a new boyfriend?? This one truly makes him sick, but he refuses to dwell on his reaction.

Inhaling deeply, exhaling through your mouth, you blurt out what you want with your eyes squeezed shut.

"I need you to kiss me."

Oscars heart stops briefly, then kicks back up into overdrive. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Kiss you? You? His lips on yours? Oh God.

His silence makes you nervous so you peek, and the air is punched out of your lungs as a result.

His face is red and he's stone-still, lips parted and eyes ever so slightly widened. Is it bad to say you enjoy seeing him like this?

"Okay." The words finally leave his lips in the form of a breathless whisper, tongue darting out to wet them subconsciously. Surprise smacks you in the face, never once having anticipated a yes so simply. An urge to explain fills you; to justify such a request.

"See I just- well I have a date tomorrow and it's been a long time since I've ever kissed someone, so I figured you could help me relearn." You explain, hands waving around in the air to further your point. As you speak, you don't notice the way Oscar steels back up, shutting back down. How could he ever think you'd be into him when you're so amazing? All of those emotions are forced back into an old box, edges worn out from his mind picking at it on late nights.

"Right. Yeah." He nods, swallowing the bile wanting to rise. He should be happy for you, for taking such a step after the shit-storm of your last relationship. Jealousy edges into his mind, seeping into the cracks and his ego, protectiveness shifting into possessiveness for a split second. You're his, not some random guy who can't even qualify as a man. He's always been there, not this- this idiot.

"So uh, do we just..?" You bring your legs up onto the sofa, sitting criss cross and shifting to face him. The nerves teeter on uncomfortable, but excitement balances it all out for you. His lips are so kissable, it has honestly pained you for years that you may never feel them against your own. Oscar takes the lead of course and his slender yet strong hands cup your jaw, pointer finger drawing circles just in front of your ear. You feel frozen in time, hands useless in your lap as you can't seem to draw your attention anywhere but those lips and the light stubble surrounding the area.

"..You need to close your eyes." He reminds you, his voice sounding a whole lot more gravelly, if not hoarse. Why would it be? What would cause such a-

Warmth. His lips, a delicacy you knew internally you craved, bring a warmth you'd forgotten the embrace of long ago. Oscar sharply inhales at the first contact and struggles to restrain himself, your hesitancy in the kiss the only reminder that you need slow and gentle. He abides by this and tries to stay focused while you lose any thought except the need to keep him as close as possible, right on you where he belongs.

Your eyes had fallen shut awhile ago, but who can say? Time feels meaningless when Oscars hands are trailing down to your hips, the kiss at some point having deepened into an intimacy you weren't sure even existed. He lifts you into his lap with an ease that sets you on fire, scorching a path up to your heart and burning up the oxygen in your lungs. Not that you mind. You'd happily give him your air if it'll make him stay attached like this. Oscar memorizes all of you as you do him, burning your skin with his touch and peeling away layers of lies you'd both put up for a false pretense of simple friendship.

Maybe you've fallen into wonderland because you certainly feel mad. He's tearing out your soul with how gentle yet compassionate his kisses are, soft gasps and sighs filling the otherwise quiet flat, only to mingle with birdsong outside the window. Would you let him kiss you on that balcony for everyone to see? A Juliet he'd most certainly keep. He tugs you closer, chest to chest and heart to heart, both fluttering wildly as if in a cage. Every touch he gets is full of you, any late night dream far surpassed as you give up any control to him, bending under gentle actions like putty. God and your taste, one in the same as it is for you. Closer and closer you become, the outside world ceasing to exist just like any false boundaries you'd both foolishly believed like it'd save you from the damnation of love.

"Osc.. Oscar.." You mumble breathlessly as you part, both panting for air and refusing to give the other space with the way your foreheads stay pressed together. "I lied. There's no date." The white lie is finally revealed, one you'd said out of fear for rejection.

"...Thank fuck." He mutters, laughing under his breath as his lips meet yours once more. He can barely kiss you though, not when he's smiling so widely. You giggle, so he does too and suddenly you're both laughing heavily, falling into one another.

"Be mine?" The question leaves you without consequence, your heart and head airy with love. Oscar nods into your collarbone, still placing kisses there with reverence.

"I've always been yours." He says simply.

"Me too."

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

"C'mon! We're gonna get soaked!" Your laugh fills up the corner store, rain hammering down on the two of you. Oscar trails in behind you, hand tightly linked with yours as a bright smile stays firm on his face.

"Thought you liked when we were-" He starts but you slap his shoulder, covering your grin with your free hand as you scoff. He grins back, leading you through the short aisles to wait out the storm and maybe get a few (a lot) of cheat snacks. Oscar grabs Snickers, you grab Hersheys. He takes a Sprite, you take a Dr. Pepper. (You'll later end up forgetting that chocolate melts and get a whole pizza instead, walking in the park while eating out of the waterlogged box.)

"That everything?" The old lady behind the counter asks as Oscar goes to pay, just barely beating you to it while ignoring your protests. He thinks for a moment and then grabs a bouquet of pink tulips, grinning like he'd just won a race. Your heart warms and you peck his cheek as thanks, his pale skin going an identical shade of pink to the petals. Maybe one day he'll realize that that's why pink tulips are your favorite.

She checks you out and waves goodbye since the rain has since cleared up, watching as you walk out swinging each other's hand. Her gaze falls to the corkboard behind her, a small smile on her lips as she traces her lost loves face.

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

hello I haven't written in forever and I also don't know why I gave the old lady a backstory ????

[pomefioredove]

HIYYYAAAA

JUST SAW THE FLRITY PROMPTS EVENT!

What do you say about Lilia with "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."

I would say hgghh💕💖❤️

summary: "don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is kinda implied to be yuu but doesn't have to be, not proofread, Lilia is shamelessly flirty thank u a part of this event

There are very few things that still manage to catch Lilia by surprise.

At his age, he's simply running out of new experiences; school, politics, even the wonderful world of the internet have started becoming monotonous and boring, leaving him in a slump.

Perhaps, then, that's why he's taken such an interest in you.

Such an intriguing little creature, he thinks, watching you from the shadows of the Diasomnia lounge.

You'd come by to drop something off for Malleus, the sweet thing that you are, and, once again, Lilia finds himself shamelessly staring.

He knows he shouldn't, but, oh, he truly can't help himself!

He inches closer. Lilia can't help but wonder what sort of noise you'll make when he startles you this time. A gasp? A shout, perhaps? Maybe even a cute little squeak... the thought of that is strangely exciting to him.

Only one way to find out.

He drops out of the shadows, blocking you from the exit just as you turn towards it. "Hello!"

And... Nothing.

You smile. "Ah... hello again, Lilia. Did Malleus tell you I was coming?"

His arms fall to his sides with a pout. Nothing? Nothing at all? You look at him like he has something stuck in his teeth.

"He may have mentioned," Lilia sighs. "You're impossible to tease these days. It's quite disappointing, really."

You smile slightly, much to his bemusement. He hates letting you have the upper hand... "Maybe I've started anticipating your pranks. You'll just need to find some new material,"

New material...? He scoffs. You're not even the least bit concerned about him!

"It used to be so easy to get a rise out of you. Humans change far too fast," he laments.

"Now I'll never get to see that flustered look on your face ever again! Or I'll have to come up with something new to tease you with..."

"Orrrr... you could just not tease me at all?"

He chuckles, shaking his head as if you had just said something ridiculous. "With your precious reactions? Impossible!"

You sigh.

Lilia tuts, tapping his chin as if lost in deep thought. He circles you once, twice, then stops in front of you.

"I can't think of anything," he sighs dramatically. "It'll come to me later... Is that uniform new?"

"Oh, uh..." you mutter, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. You turn around yourself in a circle. How cute.

"Well, it's the same uniform, but I got my measurements taken at Pomefiore, and they they got me a better fitting one."

"I can tell,"

He hums pleasantly, dragging his eyes over your body. "They did a wonderful job accentuating your features,"

You huff and look away, much to his delight, clearly taken by surprise by his change in tone.

"...Thank you,"

"Fufufu. Don't mention it," Lilia says, eyes narrowing. "You don't get complimented very much, do you?"

"Not regularly,"

"I could surmise as much. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're almost flustered by little old me. Is that right?"

Hook, line, and sinker. Your eyes widen as you realize that you've walked right into his trap. "Oh, no, no. I'm not. I'm fine!"

"Really? Don't get shy on me, now. I'm beginning to like this even more than scaring you,"

He takes a step forward, drinking in the sight of you, your body's nervous reactions to his teasing. "How cute,"

"Tease," you say, biting the corner of your lip.

You back yourself against the wall of the lounge, to his absolute delight, and he takes that as an invitation to get closer.

"That I am," Lilia admits without a hint of shame. "But don't bite your lip... I want to do that."

That long sought-after squeak finally escapes you, music to his ears, and he leans closer. For a moment, it seems like he's about to close the distance between you... then, at the last second, he pulls back.

He chuckles. "Oh, what fun! I haven't felt so young in ages. But I do have other business to attend to,"

And so, Lilia leaves you stunned, trembling against the wall as he merrily walks off before you seem to come to your senses.

"Vanrouge, you little shit! Get back here!"

A slight giggle escapes him as he starts off running, with you not far behind. He was right; this is much, much more rewarding than scaring you.

Maybe, if you make another one of those cute noises, he'll even let you catch him.

[zomb-rabbit]

full nsfw alphabet for toby??

posting this from the glue trap i'm stuck in

🪓 Toby Rogers NSFW alphabet!

A = Aftercare, what they’re like after sex

checks in with you a WHOLE BUNCH- he wants to make sure you know he loves you and cares about you no matter how hard y'all were going not even 5 minutes ago

B = Body part, their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

on him, i think it's a tie between his arms and his hair if that counts lolz. he likes how strong his arms are and likes to try n show off in front of you- he likes both how his hair looks, and he thinks his happy trail suits him

in you, i'd say your chest- in both a romantic and sexual sense :) he loves laying on you, listening and feeling your heartbeat, the closeness, all of it. he also loves leaving hickies all across it, little mindless bites and kisses decorating you from him getting lost on the feeling of you.

C = Cum, anything to do with cum, basically

he's a sucker for cumming inside, he just can't get over how you squeeze him and how fucked out you look

D = Dirty secret, pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

he jerked off to the thought of you WAAYYYY before y'all were dating- he was too embarrassed to tell you when you first started dating and he's too scared now. probably.

E = Experience, how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?

love him to the ends of the earth, he has nothing. nada. zilch. you're his first everything, be patient with him cus he's gonna be nervous !! that does NOT mean he has shame though. he is not at all embarrassed to tell you when he wants you.

F = Favorite position, this goes without saying

anything with you on top- as i said he's a boobs/chest kinda guy, he wants to watch

G = Goofy, are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.

he's more serious, but it's mostly because he's concentrated. he wants to do his best to make you feel good and he wants to focus!!

H = Hair, how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

i think he trims, but he doesn't wanna shave unless you ask him to (mostly because he has a tendency to accidentally nick himself with the razor)

he gets some facial hair on his chin, but it's nothing super serious. he'll jokingly ask you to help him with it sometimes, if you say yes you'll be rewarded with a very flustered boyfriend that keeps letting out shaky breaths every time you put your hand on his chest to keep him still

I = Intimacy, how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect

it really depends on his mood, but most of the time he's romantic about everything; telling you how much he loves you, all the noises you make, how fucking good you feel. if he's in a mood though, expect most of the words flowing out of his mouth to be about how bad he needs you, and reminding you that you're all for him.

J = Jack off, masturbation headcanon

it's. a lot. and it's mostly because he thought too hard about you- whether it was a small thing you did earlier that day that he thought was hot or his mind drifted to certain memories of you

K = Kink, one or more of their kinks

Toby praise kink truthers in this house !!!!!!!! lean over into his ear while you're riding him and tell him how pretty he looks when he's close, tell him you feel so full when he fucks you; he's putty in your hands

L = Location, favorite places to do they do

anywhere private- not big on getting caught by other people (catching you on the other hand is something else)

M = Motivation, what turns them on, gets them going

dead serious anything. you stretching in front of him, bending over to grab something, you smiling into a kiss- you get him hot and bothered by doing nothing and everything. (he does also really like it when you take any kinda control over him- even if it's just telling him in any kinda stern tone to go do something)

N = No, something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs

nothing that would seriously hurt you, and nothing to do with a daddy kink, sorry shawtys

O = Oral, preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

he definitely prefers giving. loves how your thighs squeeze around his head, the feeling of you tugging at his hair, getting fistfuls of your ass as he pulls himself further into you.

he's such a mess receiving though, he's so sensitive and you look so pretty when you look up at him while he's halfway down your throat. he likes it when you take control when you're giving him head

P = Pace, are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

tends to get lost in the feeling of you and ends up fucking you at a rough and fast pace, no matter how slow he started off. of course you can tell him to slow down if you really need him to, but his rough grip on your thighs and the whimpers and pants in your ear tell you just how bad he needs you.

Q = Quickie, their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

they're not his favorite, but there have definitely been a few times where he just could not keep his hands off of you when the two of you were out and he pulled you aside. prefers to be able to take him time with you and draw things out a bit, but he'd never say no to you

R = Risk, are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.

he'll experiment with you !! it just has to be thoroughly talked about first

S = Stamina, how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?

UNTIL HIS BODY GIVES OUT BABES- he does not care how tired his body gets, if you're down to keep going, he is too.

T = Toys, do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?

doesn't own any himself, and might be a lil shy using them on you, but he's a crying mess when you use them on him. he gets so overwhelmed so fast- make sure you tell him how good he's being <3

U = Unfair, how much they like to tease

he had no idea how to tease you for the first little bit- but as soon as he figured out how he could draw out little whines and begs for him to keep going, he could not get enough. can't do it for too long, though, he gets impatient

V = Volume, how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

he is LOUD, panting, whimpering, whining- the whole nine yards. you feel fucking heavenly to him and he just can't help it :(( poor boy's sensitive

W = Wild card, a random headcanon for the character

he likes to have music in the back when y'all are going at it- he doesn't need it and it wouldn't be super loud, but it is nice to have background noise. some she wants revenge or somethin

X = X-ray, let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

~6.5, skinnier with such a sensitive tip

Y = Yearning, how high is their sex drive?

VERY this boy is down for anything 24/7 if you mention it. will wrap his arms around you from behind and whine into your neck if he's feeling needy.

Z = Zzz, how quickly do they fall asleep afterward?

if he was more rough or dominant with you, he doesn't wanna fall asleep until you do. if you were the one to take more charge, he'll certainly try to stay up !! but he's usually pretty spent and ends up asleep on your chest, gently holding your hand

[saltylemontears]

try again || ln4

summary: you and lando meet after many years with lots to talk about... warnings: none? i think? a/n: my first lando fic got over 650 notes (INSANE), so here's another, longer, as a thank you!

you weren't a big fan of racing. in fact, you had no clue what it was really about, until your brother brought you here.

the paddock is loud, way too loud for your liking, and you don't really understand. you see people wearing merch, carrying around signs and cutouts with big smiles on their faces, and it's actually kind of cute.

your brother gets into a passionate conversation about a championship with a fellow fan and decides to completely ignore your existence. how typical of him. your eyes wander to the big screen on your left.

names and pictures flash before your eyes, but none of them sound familiar. max verstappen, charlec leclerc, oscar piastri, lando norris.

lando norris.

lando norris?

lando norris, your highschool sweetheart? no, that can't be. surely, it's just a guy with the same name. and the same face. and the same fucking curls. just a coincidence.

your thoughts begin to wander, and suddenly you're in highschool again, anxiously waiting for lando in the park, on your bench. but lando's not in sight. not a single trace of him, he didn't even text you that he's busy like he usually does. you left the park two hours later, tears streaming down your face, betrayal stinging inside your chest.

and it starts stinging again. your first ever love, your first ever heartbreak.

you never thought you'd feel like this on a random sunday in miami, and it's overwhelming, it's all too much and you need to go.

your brother turns back to you. "hey, where are you going?"

it feels stupid to tell him about lando and whatever feelings you're feeling right now, so you just sit back down. "nothing, nothing,"

you manage to zone out for a while, only coming back to your senses when the lights go out, the race starts and your brother screams in excitement.

the crowd goes insane every time a car passes them, making the whole place even louder, and to be completely honest, it's actually kinda fun to watch those cars go ridiculously fast.

as the race comes to an end, the fans get louder, specifically the ones dressed in orange and your brother stands up, cheering passionately.

"and lando norris wins the miami grand prix, for the first time in formula on-"

jesus christ. you just witnessed your first love win a fucking formula one race with your own eyes.

you watch the screen, seeing lando on the podium, looking so happy and relieved, and all of a sudden, you see the same kid you loved those years ago and it's way too much to fucking handle. you get up again.

"i'm gonna go pee," you tell your brother, attempting to leave as quietly as possible, making your way through the crowd.

hell, you don't even know where the toilets are. you just need to get out of there real quick.

and you run, you run until you don't know where you are, but you're standing next to a bunch of guys in orange, breathing heavily.

you feel tears streaming down your cheeks and you hide your face, trying to find a bathroom. those orange guys definitely have a bathroom there, right?

and now, you're completely lost, messy and lando norris is in front of your eyes, chatting with someone. you need to get out.

you wait for a while until everyone turns around and run out of there as quickly as you can and-

something taps on your shoulder, and when you turn around, it's him. you're not sure whether you should cry or laugh.

your eyes meet and it's awkward as hell, just like back in highschool.

"didn't think i'd see you again," he says quietly after a minute of just staring. his voice is a little wobbly.

"i wish you didn't," you reply softly, turning back around to make your way back, but he stops you again. he stays quiet.

"congratulations," you say when he doesn't reply, and you mean it. no bad feelings, just like your mum always told you. "you did well,"

lando's hand on your shoulder tightens and he bites his lip, as if he was trying to find the right words.

"i'm sorry." he eventually whispers, voice breaking in the middle, and your heart fucking breaks at the sight, as angry as you are. "i-i'm gonna explain, alright? i'll tell you everything, please,"

you nod in agreement. today just can't get crazier.

he gently leads you somewhere, and you feel your survival instinct kick in, but it's lando. it's always been him.

he closes the door behind you when you sit on the couch in his driver's room. your hands shake.

"go on then," you begin, "explain,"

he takes a deep breath. "listen, i didn't really have a choice. i had to leave, you know? to move up the ladder, and i dropped out, because i wanted to chase this dream," he says, eyes wandering over your face. "and then - then it started being more than a dream, and i left everyone behind, not just you, and i'm so fucking sorry,"

you tense. "you could've at least texted me,"

"and what was i supposed to text you? that i'm leaving the country to become a racing driver and that i'm gonna be living in monaco and flying around the world and might never see you again?"

"anything. you don't even know how i felt after you ditched me," you reply, bitterness coating the sentence.

"i didn't want to ditch you,"

"but you did, lando, and it fucking hurt!" you raise your voice a little, but it's shaky and unstable. lando reaches for your hand.

"i'm sorry, i really am," he whispers, "i thought about you every day, how you're doing, because i loved you. i loved you so fucking much, i wanted you to just forget my dumb ass,"

"i didn't forget," you say, hand brushing against his. "i thought you didn't want me anymore,"

the room goes silent and you can hear each other's breathing.

"i still love you. i never really stopped," you blurt out, not even realizing what you've just said until he pulls you into a much needed hug, whispering a "me too," in your ear.

you pull away, looking into his eyes. he smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"you think we could try again?"

[jaysgirlx]

❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❥ pairing: valentines jason todd x f!reader

❥ summary: this is your first valentine's day with jason after well he died and came back, he needs everything to be perfect for you to make for all the lost time.

❥ warnings: bit of angst, mentions of abuse/torture, tons of fluff & smut, unapproving dad Bruce Wayne

❥ wc: 4.3k

"Jason stop it, c'mon Bruce is going to catch us" you squealed, while your boyfriend pressed kisses all over your neck. "I don't want you to get banned from seeing me again, especially with Valentine's upcoming!"

Jason groaned and lifted his head up from your hickey-stained neck. "Even if Bruce does ban me, there's no way in hell I'm missing our first Valentine's," Jason says, laying his head on your chest. The two of you comfortably lay in your bed, cuddling while your parents were asleep a couple doors down.

You'd grown up with Jason, you'd always known him as a troublesome kid but that didn't stop you from developing a crush on the guy. You never thought of saying anything until you learned he'd gotten adopted after his dad kinda just disappeared.

For weeks you'd missed him, you missed how dumb antics, you missed the way he was always following you around and you missed his dumb smile. God, you loved that cheesy grin he always gave you..

Until one day he appeared on your doorstep, telling you that Bruce, his new dad was finally allowing him to visit his old friends. You thought he'd forgotten you but it was far from it and you knew then and there you definitely had a thing for Jason Todd.

It still took a while for either of you to confess your feelings. You thought you would crack first but Jason did instead when he learned that some guy from your school had a crush on you. He didn't mean for it to come out but he was just so jealous, "Why go out with him when you have me huh? I'd make a much better boyfriend. Just go out with me"

He wasn't wrong because he did, a week later you were on the best date of your life. Jason took you to this amazing amusement park that was happening in the middle of Gotham City. The whole night was spent on games and junk food, and Jason Todd got his kiss on the cheek that wasn't from Barbara.

Over time your relationship developed into something more, you couldn't help but spend more and more time with him. He eventually asked you to be his girlfriend and you've been his ever since.

"Well, I don't want to risk it okay? You need to get home before Bruce notices, don't you guys have patrol tonight"

"Okay fine, fine but first, I have something for you princess"

You watch as Jason pulls out what looks to be a ring box. "Woah, wash slow your roll buster, we are only 15 you can't freaking propose!" you whisper scream, praying that your shock wouldn't wake up your parents.

"Princess calm down, it's just a promise ring," Jason said rolling his eyes as if this was normal. "I wanted to give it to you before our date tomorrow, so you'll already be wearing it"

Jason sat up a bit and cleared his throat while he looked at you nervously, "I'm not sure if I've made this clear but…I love you y/n. Like really love you and you're the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. So I got this promise ring, it's like a sign of me promising myself to you if that makes any sense"

"You love me?"

"Yes, I love you y/n and you don't have to say it back okay? We're young, I have years to come to hear you say it"

You were silent as he slipped the ring on your finger. You could tell from the moment he opened the box it wasn't cheap but you couldn't complain he bought it for you. Because he loved you. And you wanted to say it back but you were scared, scared to fully accept that you loved him.

Jason didn't care if you said it back or not because, in his eyes, you were the only one who accepted him. He looked at you sweetly and gave you a soft smile before getting out of your bed and heading towards your window. Now was the time to say it, to tell him you loved him but you just couldn't m

"I'll see you tomorrow okay sweetheart? I'll pick you up at 7" He says climbing out the window with one of his cheesy grins.

At the age of 15, you'd never be happier to be young and stupidly in love with Jason Todd. Ever since he moved in with Bruce, the two of you didn't get to see each other a lot, and that caused tension between him and Bruce. Jason believed he deserved a later curfew so he could visit you but Bruce was against it, he didn't think it was safe.

Tonight Jason snuck out to see you, the two of you had Valentine's Day plans and wanted to confirm them and we'll spend time with you. You were his world, you were one of the biggest reasons he became Robin. You were the one he wanted to protect no matter what and you knew that.

What you didn't know was this would be the last time you'd ever see Jason at least until you saw his casket. The two of you never celebrated your first Valentine's and you never got to tell Jason how much he meant to you. You never got to tell him how stupid he was for sneaking out, how much you didn't deserve this wrong, and that you did love him back.

7 years later

Everything had to be perfect.

Currently, it was February 14th and Jason had woken up with what was probably the worst news he could've gotten over a phone call.

Dear Mr.Todd, we're sorry to bother you on such a busy day but your reservation at Gotham Restaurant has been canceled due to a surge of higher-paying customers. We can reschedule your reservation for free at any time. We are sorry for this inconvenience.

"You're kidding me right!" Jason yelled, banging his fist against the wall. Out of a day, it had to snow today huh? Your first Valentine's since the two of you got back together. The first Valentine's since he died. Jason had never been able to give you the Valentines you deserved and when the two of you got back together, he immediately started planning.

"No Sir, we are very sorry for this inconvenience and we can try and get you another reservation elsewhere but-"

"Nowhere else is going to have any free spot and even ignoring that my girlfriend wants to go the Gotham Restaurant not anywhere else"

Well, that is what you had told him when he asked what restaurant would you like to go to that you hadn't been to yet. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. Jason had the whole day planned out. What should've been waking up in his followed by breakfast in bed, shopping, lunch, more shopping, dinner at your favorite place, a movie, dessert at your favorite ice cream shop, and ending with hopefully some cuddling if you didn't mind was now all ruined.

Jason had needed today to be perfect especially after you got over the fact that your dead boyfriend was not only alive but also vililangte who was formerly a crime lord. The fact you still wanted to be with him after all this time bewildered him this led him to believe he was probably on thin ice with you so today had to be perfect.

Since it was already Valentine's Day he knew no other restaurant would have any space for a reservation so that meant he'd probably have to cook the two of you dinner. Jason had quite the stocked fridge so he didn't see it as a bad idea but he knew you'd be disappointed for sure.

His entire relationship was riding on today being perfect and it was already failing. While Jason tried to get dressed he quickly noticed that it was already passed 8 o'clock. He was late, He said he'd make you breakfast in bed at 8 which made him late. Could today get any worse?

And it did when you told him you wouldn't eat breakfast with him because your boss really needed you at work for a couple of hours and he had already been on his way to your apartment. "I'll be back early enough for us to go shopping, and go to the restaurant. mkay? I guess we'll have to miss the movie" you said through the phone while simultaneously getting dressed for work. "Can't wait to go the Gotham Restaurant, can't believe you got us a reservation babe."

"Yeah about that…" Jason couldn't do this, he couldn't tell you that actually, you guys weren't getting dinner anywhere and that he was going to cook at home. You sounded so excited and so happy and he didn't want to be the reason that went away. "You'll love it alright. I'll pick you up from work around 6 for your shopping spree and then we'll get dinner"

"Jay I don't need to go shopping, dinner is enough really-"

"I want to take you shopping okay? I have enough saved up to spoil you and that's what I plan to do sweetheart"

Your heart hummed at the word sweetheart. It had been so long since Jason had called you that. It felt surreal because at times he didn't feel like Jason, well not like your Jason. The Jason who kissed you like his life depended on it, the Jason who was obsessed with holding your hand, the Jason who told you he loved you.

When Bruce called you and told you Jason was alive you didn't believe him. Jason was dead, you were at the funeral just like everyone else and knew how he died. A small part of you blame Bruce, this wouldn't have happened to Dick and even if it did he would've found him. Bruce tried telling you a couple more times but you ignored him. Your boyfriend, no your Jason was dead. The next time you hear about it was from Dick because Jason was out for blood. Joker's if we had to be specific.

You didn't want to believe him but Dick had loved Jason like they were biological brothers and you knew he wouldn't lie. He warned you that Jason was different and that I should be wary of him.

You took his advice and made sure not to walk home alone and tried not to go out at night but one day you had a rough day at work and you decided to visit Jason's grave. You left red dahlias on his tombstone and sat down next to it. You started talking to it about how your boss yelled at you and called you incompetent. "You would have called him an asshole for that if you were here," You told him how much you missed him. You knew he was alive but it felt so much easier talking to the tombstone because it felt like he was really there.

You did this consistently for about 2 months, you had caught on that someone was watching you. It was Dick because when you did actually see the figure they were much taller than Dick and they stayed hidden, Dick wouldn't have a reason to do that. It made sense to alert Dick but you didn't because you knew who it was and you weren't ready to face him.

Eventually, you heard from Dick that Jason had changed and that maybe you should talk to him but you still needed time. That didn't stop Jason from approaching you at your apartment. You were startled because your little high school boyfriend was suddenly 6 feet and over 200 pounds. He was practically all muscle and you were kinda scared. That didn't stop you from crying in his arms.

It took a while for the two of you to adjust to being in each other's lives especially when you never stopped having feelings for him. When you admitted that to him, he asked for a second chance. That he'd be yours even if you weren't his. So you let him be yours.

"Okayyy, I'll see you at 6 hun," you said just as you cut off the call.

Jason paces around his bedroom trying to figure out how the hell he was going to get the reservation back.

The two of you arrive at the mall, and you wait while Jason parks his motorcycle. It was shocking how there were barely any cars in the lot. Jason assumed that maybe people were just busy cause of Valentine's. You were so excited to go in that you ran over to the doors to get inside except you couldn't.

Closed for Construction, the sign read.

Jason didn't think today could get worse but it did. "No no no! This wasn't supposed to be Damn it!" He said angrily. He had even called the building, they were supposed to be opened. Construction wasn't for another 2 weeks, it was just his luck that they decided to start early. "Jason it's fine, I told you I don't need to go shopping. It was very thoughtful of you though to want to spoil me but you're already getting me dinner at the best restaurant in the city"

"There is no dinner! Our reservation got fucking and canceled and…Today is ruined y/n. Let me just take you home."

"Jason why didn't you tell me, I can promise you today is not ruined. Jay, are you even listening to me?"

Jason was hardly processing your words though because all he could think was losing you. You would dump him and he would go back to hating himself and his very existence. Would life go back to being a reminder that he died? He was tortured endlessly until he was finally out of his misery. No matter how hard the Joker tried to convince him that you hated him he wouldn't believe him. The part of you wearing his promise ring is what kept him going. What got him through the beating. What made it easier to look at the scars.

What left did he have if he wasn't able to love you. He was yours, he didn't know how to love others and he didn't want to because he would always love you. When he was watching you he realized that even though it had been 7 years you were still the same.

Still had the pretty smile and that contagious laugh, still had a knack for books and enjoyed it. You were still his, at least he believed so. And the one thing you asked him, he couldn't deliver. You messed up your first Valentine's and now he was going to mess up this one too.

"Jay for fucks sake, would you look at me!!"

Jason wasn't sure if it was that cursing that made him snap out of his spiral or maybe it was the fact that you were holding his hands. It had only been 2 weeks since he reintroduced himself into your life, and had been avoiding affection. He knew it was cause he was so big now and you were a bit scared. But right now you weren't. You were holding your hands with his. You were looking at him with what looked like pain and so much regret but you were smiling at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Just shut up okay? And listen to what I have to say"

After you had finally managed to calm him down you knew you needed to tell d him how you had felt. "When I lost you, I regretted so much Jay but what I regretted most was not telling you that I loved you and it hurt. It hurt knowing Joker had you and that you were in pain but what hurt more was that you were really gone."

You paused and slowed your breath a bit.

"I know it seems like you owe me something like you need to make up for lost time or show me you're worth love but I already know that Jay. I've been yours since we were kids, m'kay? "

"But I do owe you, I owe you the goddamn world if possible"

"For what Jay?"

"Accepting me again I know I'm different than I'm used to be. I'm more shut out and I know I definitely look different. There is so much you accepted just cause I love you"

You groaned annoyingly and raised your hand up and shook it in his face, "Have you even noticed that I'm still wearing this promise ring? The one you gave me?"

Jason had, you wondered why you still wore it. It was so tiny and was probably uncomfortable. It was a tiny gold band, he had paid Selina for that had a diamond on it. To others, it clearly looked like it could be an engagement ring and you still wore it because you still, did being to someone whether was dead or alive. People tried to convince you to move on and take off the ring but you didn't listen.

"You still have it..."

"Mhmm, believe me now?"

"How about we get dinner to go at some random place, come to my place and we'll eat and cuddle while watching some movies"

"You're okay with just that?"

"I'm okay with anything as long as I'm doing it with you Jay, that's the whole point"

Jason smiled and held you in his arms, "can't believe you're still all mine"

"C'mon let's go to the movie theater and see what they've got"

And that's exactly what you did.

The two of you were cozied up on your bed, with a bunch of food. Jason bought himself chili dogs and got you pancakes to make up for breakfast. Who knew pancakes tasted better at night?

Jason also bought 2 tubs of Ice Cream to substitute as dessert. You may not be eating at that fancy restaurant but you were still having the time of your life.

"I swear you hated chili dogs when I was alive?!"

"I always liked them I just never wanted to admit it else that would've been the only food we'd ever eat"

While the TV played in the background you looked over at Jason who looked the happiest he'd been all day. There he was, your Jason. He was there, under all those scars he was still there. Jason noticed you were staring you looked over at you, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. "I've missed the taste of your lips" he whispered quietly

He kissed you again and this time you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. "I've missed you, Jay," you said in response. Jason didn't hands on his way to your hips and he pulled you closer, right onto his lap. You still hadn't adjusted to Jason being so big, so when your hands found your way to his muscles you were surprised to feel him groan while you felt him up a bit.

"Sweetheart, if you keep this up I'm going to do something you might regret"

"I didn't regret my first time with you, I'm not going to regret it now babe"

He groaned again this time grinding his hips upwards against yours. Jason swiftly switches your position, putting you underneath him. His kisses quickly became more eager while his hips rutted into you, "Baby, I don't have any-"

"Don't need it, got on the pill a couple years back" you said softly, gripping his shirt. "I promise I want this, so let's get these out for he was please?"

Your pleas were enough for Jason to take off your dress, you'd worn a red satin dress. He'd always liked you in red, especially when it was just for him. Jason had on a tux except he replaced the jacket with his favorite leather one. Regardless, he still looked so good, as he always did.

His leather jacket was already on your bedroom floor, you tried to undress him but he stopped you. "The scars…I don't want to scare you again"

"You won't, I promise. I'll even kiss them, they're a part of you Jay and you're mine" you say tugging on his shirt. With a sigh, he silently takes off his shirt. You raise your hand to touch him but stop and make sure it is okay. He doesn't verbally answer but he gives you a nod. You trace his scars with your finger but one sticks out the most, his neck scar.

You move your face closer to his neck, and kiss his scar, "You're still as beautiful as ever, you're still my Jason" you say while you pull away from his neck. Before you can even read his reaction, Jason kisses you again, rough and with more of a need. Jason had told you he'd met other people but in the end, he could ever think of you. You were the only person who made it just for him.

You'd had your own set of boyfriends which all seemed to end up the same, they'd get too close and you'd dump them. You couldn't imagine loving anybody the way you loved Jason. Jason's body pressed against yours with his hand on your back, pushing you into him. Your hands made your way to his pants, tugging at the waistband. "Patient baby, I'll take em off for you"

The sound of a belt hit your floor but you didn't care, you kept kissing him like your life depended on it. You didn't fully remember when Jason took off your underwear but you remember him, "Jay when did get so..."

"big?" he finished for you with a chuckle, "Yeah, there's a lot you're going to have to get used to with me" His tip pressed at your cunt, earning a disapproving groan for you. You didn't like how slow he was going, you knew he was doing it because he didn't want to hurt you but you weren't 15 anymore you could take it.

You wrap one leg around his waist pushing against his back. Jason liked the way you squirmed underneath him, practically begging for him to fuck you. After a couple minutes, he gave in and sunk his cock right into you. Your nails dug into his back, feeling the stretch of his cock inside you. You felt so embarrared you came on his cock from just him entering"

"Did you just-"

"Shut up please"

Jason looked down at you, his cheeks flushed red, while he was breathing very quickly

"Jay why aren't you moving"

"Can't baby"

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean if I move, I'm going to cum on the spot sweetheart so please bare with me" he groaned out, trying to adjust to your warm cunt hugging his cock. Slowly he began to move, using one hand to grip the sheets in hopes he wouldn't blow his load too quickly. His other hand was on his hip, trying to steady your body. Your hands were on his face, caressing his cheeks. Whenever he blushed it was so obvious, you used to tease him all about it even though you loved it.

He down to capture your lips again, allowing your arms to find themselves around his neck. Each thrust was messier than the last, getting rougher after each second. Sex now was so much more different than when the two of you were teens. Jason did things you didn't even know he could do. Once he'd found your g-stop he began to abuse it, earning a chocked moan from you every time. He was studying what you liked, what made you feel good and you loved him.

He let go of the sheets and placed both hands on your hips, giving you even tougher thrusts and even biting on your neck. Your entire body was on fire, you were overwhelmed notnonkynfrom his size but the feeling of Jason's body pressing into yours. You couldn't feel so good.

You always knew Jason was a bitter, also long as he didn't draw too much blood you were alright with it. A soft moan left your mouth as you came again, cum running down your thighs while Jason continued to fuck you. Jason thought about overstimming, making you beg for him to stop because you'd feel too good.

"Didn't know my girl was into biting" He said, while lifting up one of your legs to push deeper into you. You'd cum for tbr second time but he needed you cum one last time at least before he came. The rough slaps of skin and moans filled the room. Making it hard for you to not cum again on the spot. You felt so good you couldn't even complain that he was teasing you "Fuck you're really sensitive sweetheart"

You hid your face in the crook of his neck while his hips pounded into yours. Your legs shook while you whispered in his ear, "If you don't stop m'gonna cum again, Jay pleaseeeee"

He didn't stop though, instead, you came another two times. Makes a mess of cock. "Such a good girl f'me, just let me fill you up and we'll be done. I promise sweetheart" He gripped your hips tightly before releasing inside you. The two of you exchanged a couple more kisses while you both rode out your orgasms.

You whimpered while he pulled out of you, missing his warmth already. He watched as his cum poured out of you, dripping on the sheets. You laid back on the bed, while he hovered over you for a brief moment.

Once he laid down next to you and though he was panting he pulled your body onto his lap. You rested your head on his chest just as he used to do to you. That reminded you, there was something you needed to say, "Jay can I say something I've been holding in for a long time, yeah?"

"Mhmm, what is it, sweetheart?"

"Jason Peter Todd, I love you"

❥ a/n: happy valentine's to all my lovelies!! i hope everyone enjoys this fic and also has a nice valentines day, whether it's with someone or by themselves.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @kazzattack, @woodenanemone, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer , @orchidsangel, @millyhelp

[curtins]

DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

prologue. → brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. unfulfilled/unresolved love. angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. your usual shenanigans. sfw! implied, minor satosugu (mb because geto is my beautiful sad princess and i love him so he has to be a part of everything). pining, idiots in love. grief, and what you do after you've lost what you treasure the most etc u get it. reader is from an unnamed clan, has a younger brother. reader also wears skirts, dresses sometimes, character death + injury

word count. 11k! 😭 song inspiration. ditto — newjeans / 뉴진스 (2022) a/n. i wrote rough headcanons and posted them yesterday but i woke up thinking dang i should actually write something better about that lmao. update: i thought i'd finish this in a few hours, why did this take me like 2 days? update #2: dawg this is long as fuck...this kinda depressed me to write CROSSPOSTED ON AO3 <3 💙

mp3. do you think about me now, yeah. all the time...

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

these meeting rooms were hushed, grand, and the kind of place that simply swallowed up any sound and echo; where the wood-panelled walls were lined with the tapestries and polished symbols of his clan.

and in the hush, gojo had sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, trying to listen to the conversation of the adults, with their low and steady voices that droned on. this was so boring. they were always speaking of things that he just couldn't understand, but his parents said these meetings were important, and so he was dragged along - much to his eternal chagrin. still, he shifted in place, glancing around at the detailed screens painting around the corners of the room, in varying shades of blue.

across the room, there was another kid. one who sat beside her father, fidgeting just as he was. and gojo could tell by the way that you kept glancing towards the door that you, too, longed to escape. your gaze caught his, and there was that flicker of mutual boredom that sparked between you two. you had scrunched up her nose, as if to say 'this is so boring, isn't it?'

gojo grinned, stifling a giggle. he had leaned back, just a little, surveying the adults who paid no heed to him, before letting himself inch across the rough texture of the mat towards the door.

"do you want to see the garden?" he mouthed silently, his words exaggerated and slow, so you would understand.

your eyes had lit up, and you nodded, just as your father (well, he assumed it was her father) leaned down to whisper something in your ear, his voice a low rumble that was far too quiet for gojo to catch. you were nodding obediently, but your eyes were now fixed with the glimmer of excitement, and he quickly held the door open for you as you scrambled out the door, following him quietly as they creaked down the long hallway.

and soon, they reached the back of the estate, where the garden stretched out like a hidden oasis, filled with the flowering bushes, the winding stone paths, and the pond that glistened in the morning light. suddenly, he stopped by the edge of the pond, brushing pale hair out of his stinging eyes, "i'm satoru, by the way."

you had sat down quickly, as though the long walk had winded her (gojo had barely needed to stop to catch is breath), and your robes dipped into the pond, letting the water seep up slowly, "i've heard of you. my parents say you're an only child."

gojo shrugged, trying to think of something important he could tell you, "it's not so bad. one day, i'm going to be the head of my clan," puffing up his chest a little.

you had nodded, "i would like to be too, but my younger brother would get it. because...you know."

gojo didn't quite know but he nodded like he understood, and he tried to think of something smarter to say, "well the job isn't that fun anyway. it's just sitting around reading papers, and telling people what to do."

you had pouted, frowning, "i want to tell people what to do all day. and i would get the nicest robes too as clan head."

and you had looked so unhappy at the prospect that you were being robbed of a stellar wardrobe that gojo made up his mind, right then and there, "tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?"

your face had lit up, holding your little pinky up to his, "promise?"

gojo linked his finger with hers, sealing this silly vow and laughing, "why not?"

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

when you're seven years old, you’ve resigned yourself to trailing behind gojo, watching as your friend takes on the world with the same reckless, eager energy that he seems to pour into everything that he does.

his voice has picked up a confidence that you haven't felt yet, and there's a permanent, flashy grin on his face that says he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, not his parents, nor his clan.

and today, gojo's decided that the old shrine on the edge of your family estate needs exploring. you're a little less certain, especially since your father had told you that this shrine was haunted, but you find yourself following the boy anyway, and there's that silent agreement in place: he leads, you follow. you're alright with that, that's just the way it's always been.

he's dressed, as usual, in a loose grey hoodie that's two sizes too big for him, and his jeans have a hole in the knee; some small rebellion against his clan's strict sense of tradition. even his hair is awfully emssy, tousled and getting a little too long, and you know he hates it when his mother tries to comb it down, and you easily suspect that gojo just ruffles it on purpose to get a reaction out of those around him. he probably does everything on purpose for a round of reactions, honestly.

you, on the other hand, have your nicest lilac skirt on, and there's a small bow in your hair that the maidservants had pinned themselves (your mother had been too deep in her cups all morning). but you had fluttered around, feeling quite pretty in your skirt; like you were a fairy that would sprout wings and live in the clouds.

gojo glances back at you, and rolls his eyes, "you know, you look like you're going to one of the clan meetings," he mutters, but there's a playful glint in his eye. he's pulled a twig from the ground, and he's waving it around like a sword, slicing through imaginary enemies as he marches forward like an idiot.

you just shrug, quietly watching him cut through the tall grass ahead, "i like looking nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed. you can feel the careful way the sweet, old servant (she turned seventy last week!) had arranged your hair, and the press of the bow keeping it every lock in place.

"well, if you ever decide to look like you're not on your way to sit for a court painting, let me know," gojo says, smirking (he thinks he's funny) as he waves his 'sword' around, battling on the false frontlines.

but despite yourself, you laugh, and quicken your pace to keep up with him, and so, gojo slows just a bit, enough that you're walking side by side now, and his arm brushes against yours.

"did you know that they say that this shrine is spooked?" he asks, his voice falling to a dramatic whisper.

"i live here, satoru. obviously, duh," and the shrine comes into view, and it's small, weathered with age, but to you, it looks grand and mysterious, even magical, "do you believe it's haunted?"

gojo shrugs, unfazed, "nah, probably just an old rock. but it would be cool if it was. maybe, we'll see a ghost."

now you've taken a hesitant step back, but gojo just grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and his hand is warm and steady in yours.

"c'mon, don't be a chicken," he teases, laughing as he drags you closer, and you plant your feet firmly in the ground, watching as clouds begin to roll over the sky, ominous and gloomy.

oh, this place is definitely haunted. your father was right, it's so over for you now. a massive, ugly curse is going to pop out and eat you alive, and steal your pretty hair bow. you mutter a small prayer under your breath. gojo satoru, you will pay for this.

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

you'd always heard whispers about yourself from the other kids, how you were too quiet, or you tried far too hard to be perfect — unwilling to roughhouse the way they did. perhaps they were right, and it was true that you preferred to sit alone. you think it was the feeling of order you enjoyed, of a world you could control, even if it was just through lines on a piece of paper.

but today, their voices were louder than usual. a small group had gathered near the cherry blossom tree where you'd settle yourself, and they circled around like hungry wolves sniffing out something they could tear apart.

one girl wrinkled her nose and called you prissy (well, okay) and another boy had snickered and muttered that you were so boring, and it was a wonder that you even had a friend like gojo.

ouch.

their words felt like small, precise cuts, sharper than expected. you had heard these things before. after all, everyone had reached the age where they were aware of their abilities, their techniques as jujutsu sorcerers.

you didn't mind your own technique, making sure to channel time and energy to learn so you could grow up and be as good as your father one day (a well established sorcerer in his own right, if a bit out of shape).

but you didn't have to be very smart to know that gojo's abilities stood out entirely in a different way, and you heard your parents whisper in hushed tones at how lucky his clan was to have a child like that. with the right training and moulding, he could be the most powerful man to walk the earth.

how silly. gojo was all laughs, and smiles, and stupid jokes and bright, clever eyes. you thought it was dumb how they all spoke about an eleven year old boy like he was a weapon, kept in its sheath until it was ready to be drawn.

but of course, all the kids wanted to be friends with him instead. and today, these barbs hurt more — and you kept your eyes down, clutching your books a bit tighter, willing for these supposed 'friends' of yours to go away.

but before you could say anything, you heard his stomps.

"hey!"

gojo's voice was unmistakable, sharp and sudden as he clamoured over, all brashness and bravado. he had gotten a bad haircut recently (entirely his own fault for thinking he could put scissors to his own hair, but you had laughed so hard as he swore curses) so white tufts stuck out all over his head, making him look like he got stuck in a wall socket, even crazier than usual.

but gojo didn't look at you, just planted himself between you and the group, bruised fists clenched (they trained him too hard), and shoulders set, "what's your problem?"

the other kids stammered, clearly surprised, but that didn't stop him, he who looked like a small, lanky and angry polar bear.

"you think you're so funny? talking like that? say it again, and i'll knock your teeth out."

"ah, satoru -" you ran your tongue behind your teeth, the last thing everyone needed was another fight of bruised pride, and yanked hair, rolling around in the dust.

but one of the boys had muttered something under his breath, taking a half-step back. the others followed, shuffling, rolling their eyes and looking anywhere but at you and gojo.

and your best friend didn't move until they had scattered completely, leaving behind only the faint echos of their derision as they fled. and then he turned to you, his scowl fading into something kinder (good, you didn't like seeing him so upset) as he dropped onto the bench, beside you, pulling his knee up onto the bench so he could rest his chin against it casually.

"they're just idiots," he said, rolling his eyes, and his voice was softer, playful again, "don't listen to them."

you gave him a small smile, nodding, as the knot in chest loosened a little, "i wasn't really listening to them," you murmured, even though you probably knew that was a bold-faced lie.

gojo released a loud laugh, much too loud and forced, as he nudged you with his elbow, and he must have known it too, but he was smiling, "good, that's the spirit."

You managed a small smile, nodding, the knot in your chest loosening a little.

the world was quiet again as you both sat in silence, the soft breeze ruffling the grass and the cherry blossoms overhead. and then, with a shyer glance, you managed to look over at your friend, watching as messy tufts of his snowy hair moved ever so slightly in the breeze.

"thanks, 'toru," you said, quietly, but he just shrugged it off, brushing it away as though it was nothing.

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

gojo was sprawled across your wide bed, looking at you as if you were the most ridiculous person in the entire world. his own suitcase sat beside him, already paced with the very few things he needed, and now he watched you with that eager, restless gleam in his blue eyes, like he could barely sit still.

"you're so overthinking this," he said, bright voice full of impatience, "just throw some stuff in a bag, and we're good to go. it's just tokyo, not the end of the world."

you scowled at the boy, holding up two sweaters; one sensible in a shade of pale blue, and the other thick, deep red and woollen, "but what if it gets cold? or rains?"

gojo rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically onto your pillow, hands behind his head as he sprawled around like a snooty prince with all the time in the world.

"it's summer, it's tokyo, and it's not like we're moving to america," he smiled, "besides, if you pack any slower, we'll miss our first year."

you tried to brush it off, and something about his easy confidence made you feel a sharp twinge of nerve. this was really happening, you were truly leaving the bounds of your family estates, stepping out into the world, to attend jujutsu tech, a school in tokyo that you had heard so much about. well, there was another school here, in kyoto, but god, it would just be nice to get out of these ancient walls.

and yet -

gojo simply looked like he couldn't wait to shake the dust of his home off his sneakers, you felt something pull at you, like a sudden-appearing string that tied you to your home city, and it wouldn't let you go.

your best friend had caught the look on your face, and softened — just a bit, as he twiddled with a brand new pair of sunglasses, and he sat up closer, watching you carefully, "you're really going to miss it here, aren't you?"

and you shrugged, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red sweater, "i don't know. maybe, i suppose. don't you feel that way at all, satoru?"

he shook his head, resolute, "not even a little," but he saw your uncertainty, "listen, you'll be fine. you'll love tokyo. and hey," he nudged you gently with his knee, "i'll be right there with you anyway."

you appreciated that his confidence felt like a promise, something that you could at least hold onto, even in the big capital, and with a big, exaggerated sigh you tossed both sweaters into the suitcase.

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

the both of you had arrived, bright-eyed and tired, as he clambered off the tall bus that had parked on the outskirts of tokyo, where jujutsu high was located.

gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his denim pockets, plastering a disinterested expression on his face. but he couldn't help how his eyes flittered to the sid,e underneath the dark shades of his glasses, watching you fawn over another new student, another boy who had arrived from some small town, who-knows-where, from a non-sorcerer family.

geto suguru.

well it was no lie that gojo liked him a lot too. there was no denying that he seemed polite, clever, maybe a bit shy. and effortlessly cool.

gojo had grown up in the stifling, grand estates of the big clans, constantly fussed over, and robed in fine silks printed with his clan motifs. all of those stuffy rules would sit, push around and make space in one's head, like a constant mantra from the elders.

he didn't need to look at you too closely to see what was going on, and he could tell right away, just from how you reacted. your smile stretched wider, and your eyes lit up like you were meeting someone who you really wanted to talk to.

geto who hadn't even changed into his uniform yet, with his stray strands of dark hair falling out of the knot on the back of his head, looking politely aloof, but cheerful, in worn black jeans and converse, and some baggy band t-shirt that would get gojo scolded by his mother for even wearing that inside the estate.

gojo noticed everything, especially the way your fingers slipped up to tuck your hair behind your ear when geto grinned at you (all because you’d recognised the band on his t-shirt, so what?) he saw how your eyes brightened, like geto suguru had unlocked some hidden code only you could decipher.

it annoyed him to realise that geto's calm, quiet charm was exactly the kind of thing you’d be drawn to. that’s what you liked, wasn’t it? the understated, thoughtful types who let the world come to them. not the loudmouth who cracked jokes at every opportunity, hoping to pull a laugh from his best friend.

well, fuck, he had to be a part of this too now.

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

gojo's new obsession had a sleek, silver body and an olympus logo stamped on it in black, a camera that he'd been itching to buy; refusing to settle for anything less than the latest model. suddenly, he was determined to capture tokyo through his own eyes, and you and your friends had quickly become his reluctant muses on an impromptu day trip to the ameya-yokocho market.

"stop! stay right there, don't move! fuck, no! a little to the left!"

he waved his hands around, motioning for everyone to gather just as he wanted. you all exchanged amused glances, with shoko huffing around dramatically, as gojo crouched down on his long legs, then stood back up, and then crouched down again, as one of jujutsu high's most powerful sorcerers struggled to bring a camera into focus.

eventually, geto had laughed — raven hair falling over his beautiful face, and had gotten up to help gojo, fiddling with the lens as the rest of you milled around.

and then, suddenly gojo turned the camera directly on you. he pointed his finger your way, wide grin half-hidden but unmistakably earnest, 'c'mon, turn that frown upside down!'

he needn't have said a word, just seeing your best friend there, with his hair tousled and carefree grin, with the camera strap hanging off his neck, was enough to make you laugh, the kind that felt as bright as it sounded.

and so, you found yourself standing in the middle of the bustling market street, surrounded by friends and fellow students, and the lively hum of the weekend crowds, as you looked directly into the lens, with your smile softening under his gaze, as though the rest of the world had blurred into the background.

afterwards, gojo had taken a good look at the photo, and he didn't say much, but the look on his face lingered, almost like he was seeing something that he wasn't sure he was allowed to hold onto. you had shyly asked him later, coming up beside his shoulder, whether he had printed a spare copy of the photo, but he shook his head with the lie rolling off his tongue.

love was a selfish endeavour, to its core. he wasn’t about to tell you that he wanted to keep that photo for himself. and later, when no-one was looking, he slipped the small print into his wallet, right between his train pass and some spare change.

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

your best friend, your dear satoru, had always been resilient; the kind of guy who threw himself at life with reckless energy, shrugging off injuries like they were just a part of the ride. he'd laugh off a scraped knee or a bloodied lip, flashing that cocky grin and a shrug as if pain was something for other people.

life for you went on, with your own routines and small moments. you learnt long ago that you didn't quite possess the natural, raw sheer jujutsu power that gojo had (or geto for that matter) but you could certainly hold your own in a scuffle. regardless, you had chosen to turn to academics, flitting between classes and study sessions, arm in arm with sweet shoko.

there was joy in sneaking off campus with friends, or scrolling through lists of new albums to download onto your mp3 player (you had been partial to the south korean boyband, tvxq!).

and so, life seemed both incredibly mundane and slightly electric, with days marked by shy smiles and inside jokes, with walks home on the streets wet from the spring rain.

but it had been late summer when gojo had returned from that last mission, when the days were still long and hot and the afternoons were bathed in a thick, heavy amber. and he had come back...different.

he moved carefully, as though each step was suspicious and took more effort than he'd let on, and his usual bright glimmer was dimmed, his laughter quiet, and his smiles withheld like a rare currency. he'd sit through the long evenings with you, in silence more often than not, hands stuffed into his wide pockets as he stared at a place that you just couldn't reach.

when you'd catch him alone in the courtyard after class, he'd be training hard, working through his cursed techniques with a relentless focus, perfecting each hand gesture as if he could shake off whatever shadow lingered behind him. and sometimes, he'd stay for hours after school, practicing beneath the dying and dusty light of the last days of summer, as if he could not afford to stop, to rest.

“gojo?” you called, hesitating as he finished a strike to some poor unsuspecting pile of soda cans, leaving them obliterated in the heat. “what's going on with you?”

he paused mid-motion, glancing at you, his face carefully blank. and you hated that, you hated how the flicker of distress would pass from his face before being schooled into that carefully constructed mask of 'the strongest.'

i love you, idiot. i love you, i love you, tell me what's bothering you and i will help, you're my best friend.

but these words never saw the light of day, always curling up and choking up in your throat, and instead being twisted into feigned, casual interest. losing the cloak of deep devotion that you held for a friend of ten years.

"oh - hey! nothing," gojo replied, too quickly, with that half-cocked smile that painted over his pink lips, "nothing that deep."

lately, this repeated lie had been hanging in the air between you, clear as the last streaks of summer sunlight that would soon give way to fall.

you crossed your arms over your uniform, dark fabric crinkling, "you're not fooling anyone, you know. geto told me about the mission, he said that you —," you swallowed, with the words just as heavy as the steadfast beat of your heart that you kept under lock and key, "he said you shouldn't have come back. what does that even mean?"

gojo's face flickered again, just for a second, before he barked out that irritating, false chuckle, "guess it's a good thing you weren't sent on tengen's fuckin' mission then," before reaching out and snatching your strawberry milk carton from your hands with a grin.

after a few punctuated slurps and lip-smacking (just to watch your face redden in fury, gojo would admit) he spoke again, voice strained, "you'd probably be crying about it still."

"hey!" you protested, grabbing for the carton again, prying his slender fingers off your sweet treat, "i don't cry that easily."

"could've fooled me. you cried during that american movie about zoo animals."

"madagascar was a sad movie about displacement and the loss of home! i know animal rights activists hate to see your ass coming to the zoo."

gojo snickered, drawing out the words, "fuck that zebra," but now, he was looking off into the golden haze of a beautiful sunset, with that frayed grin, "seriously, though. it's fine, it's all in the past."

over time, gojo never spoke many a word about what happened to the star plasma vessel, but he just seemed to move forward, like he always had. his resolve somehow sharper, tighter, and his laughter more intense when it finally did return. there were moments when you'd catch him staring into the great expanse of nothing, haunted (but beautiful), though he'd just shrug and smile when you prodded him about.

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

gojo thought he was astoundingly self-aware, in his own humble opinion. he never let anything get to him, that was the trick, you see. to take life as it came at you, to carry that fire and stubbornness and throw it back in the face of the trouble.

and so he wanted to be angry, to be furious. why had suguru done this? why?

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

[something-about-sunflowers]

ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?

Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.

So:

Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.

Man's got a fuckin' ARM.

This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.

Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.

Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.

Closer shot of the neckerchief.

I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?

Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:

This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.

SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.

Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.

'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.

The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.

(Also, just for fun:

Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)

Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?

Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?

Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.

OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.

The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c

And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!

Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.

Jim

Izzy

Fang

Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.

Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.

Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.

I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.

Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.

Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.

See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.

Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.

Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.

The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.

Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?

Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:

EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.

I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.

Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.

I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-

I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.

*ahem*

ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?

This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.

Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)

Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?

Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?

[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]

[vexis-world]

“You can't seriously be that dumb..!”

💗 Clarisse la rue x daughter of Apollo!reader one-shot 💗

Authors note: hi reader!! This is my first fan-fiction post so I'd love any constructive criticism to help improve my writing for the future! This is not beta read so it's far from perfect - but I hope you will still enjoy it nonetheless :)) Ty for reading! 🫶

Short summary: Clarisse has some doubts about your "relationship" and seeks you out to speak about her worries.

Word count: 940ish words!

Clarisse’s mind was swarming with thoughts; it always does when she trains alone. She thinks best in the training arena, it's in her blood after all. You and her had been in a relationship for almost 3 months now and hadn't kissed yet. Which isn't a big deal! Clarisse doesn't mind, at least that's what she tells herself. But this is her first relationship, and she doesn't have anyone to unload this onto. To ask advice without having to reveal too much about herself, and her most private fears. She knew that you wanted to take things slow. Although it was not confirmed by words, Clarisse could (in her opinion) read her ‘girlfriend’ well. However when was slow, too slow? Were you having mixed feelings all of a sudden? And if so why had this not been brought up? Clarisse believed that you two were close, as ones in a romantic partnership should be; but perhaps not as close as she had originally thought.

Clarisse took large and fast steps, speed walking over to you. People moved out of her way, they could tell it was urgent and that they shouldn't mess with Clarisse at this moment. Or any moment for that matter.

“Hey Clarisse!” you spoke enthusiastically, finishing up a patient in the infirmary. “Pretty girl, explain something to me.” Clarisse's words make you blush, faintly; you had mainly gotten used to her flirty remarks these past few weeks, but she always manages to catch you off guard, every once in a while. “Ok.. what's up?” you asked, in a nervous tone. You could clearly see the distressed look on the girls face. “It's sort of private, can we speak in the back?” this added to your nerves, clarisse was usually never this off. “Of course, is everything okay?” but before you could finish your sentence, clarisse had already walked over to the back of the infirmary and into the supply area.

The supply closet was cramped with the both of you in there. Clarisse had to push up against you with an arm over your head for you two to fit somewhat comfortably. “Clarisse, is everything okay?” you asked again, this time hoping you would get a straight forward reply. “Do you.. Have you um..” clarisse stuttered avoiding your concerned gaze. “Have you lost feelings for me or something?” she finally mutters. You spent a minute gathering up your words, to find a way to reply. You bit your lip with furrowed brows, before the words fully processed and then said. “What..?” Clarisse had a strange expression on her face. “It's been three months and we haven't kissed or held hands in public. We don't go on proper dates. I feel like you don’t like me” she says quickly with an eye-roll included. “Clarisse, what are you on about..? Why would we kiss?” you asked hesitantly. “Why wouldn't you? Were in a relationship, isn't that kinda the norm?” This left you frozen. You were shocked, obviously but also majorly embarrassed. Had you been in a relationship without even knowing it? And to your crush no less. Fuck. “.. relationship?” you said nauseously, with butterflies in your stomach. “Clarisse, is this some sort of sick joke..?” you added, with shallow breaths. The room was getting stuffy and suffocating. “What do you mean sick joke? Have I ever lied to you? Are my feelings a joke to you? Is that it? Forget it. If I make you this fucking sick then good thing you're in the infirmary. I'm leaving, let's not talk for a while, 'kay?” she pushes past you. since you two were practically melted into one another, you could feel how she'd gotten warmer and how her heart rate had gone up significantly. You try to go after her but just as you do, your brother, Will asks you to tend to another patient that had just come in. He calls over his shoulder. “trouble in paradise? Gonna have to wait, I'm afraid - I need some help over here!” leaving you even more puzzled.

An hour or two goes by since you spoke with clarisse, and she’s consumed your thoughts entirely. You decided to speak to her at dinner and try to resolve whatever happened earlier.

“Clarisse, can we talk? Again..” you whispered, almost begging. “Kinda busy. We’ll talk later.” clarisse brushes you off to finish scraping her offerings into the fire. “Please clarisse. I need to speak to you. Just for a second.” you plead. “Two minutes. Two, that's it.” clarisse says, her eyes finally looking up from fire to the now very interesting sky. “Thank you.” You sigh and lead her away to a more secluded area as she had done with you. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And they're not a joke to me. I'm just confused. What did you mean by relationship?” Clarisse replies by saying “what do you mean, what do i mean? We're dating, aren't we?” you take a pause, dumbfounded for the second time today. “Since when? Don't take this the wrong way but.. I don't remember you asking me to be your.. Um.. girlfriend.” your voice is wobbly and uncertain, you try your best to make your words seem kinder, as to not offend clarisse again. “Well, I guess I never asked but.. Oh.” Clarisse's words end as she parts her lips. She's realised her error. And so had you. You let out a breathy chuckle and say “maybe this time you should actually ask me.'' Clarisse looks at you with much more confidence now, her infamous sly grin back on her perfect face. “Maybe that would be best, sweet girl.”

[telvess]

Reader using pick-up lines on them

chaotic writing for the fun

Hades

“You should be arrested for stealing my heart!”

Pick-up lines, hmm? Alright, fine, but did you have to use the most pathetic, the cheesiest one? Hades is way too elegant for such a poor tasted attempt, he actually feels offended by your words.

Your first impression is horrible. Hades silently judges you. Of course, he is too classy to make any snarky comments, but you can tell by his cold, indifferent look that he has lost all interest in your company. At this point, he is more of a Poseidon than his brother himself.

If you aren’t the type of person who gives up easily and still tries to flirt… just stop. The best you can get from him would be „yes”, „no” or a nod of the head.

Buddha

“You see my friend over there? She want to know if you think I'm cute.”

Buddha stares at you for a long moment, then looks over your shoulder to check out your friend (who you obviously made up), then then returns to you. His expression is blunt, maybe slightly bored. Totally makes you lose the confidence you had a moment ago as you watch him lazily suck a lollipop and pierce you through with his unimpressed glare.

The worst he can say is „no”, right? Well, who would have thought that the enlightened mind of Buddha would prove otherwise. A drawn-out silence makes you uncomfortable and you start to squirm under his gaze, not ready for that unfazed attitude of his…

Once the confidence you felt approached him vanished and you are ready to leave as quickly as possible, Buddha begins to laugh historically. You jump up a little and stare at him confused. It takes him a while to calm down, but when he does, he looks at you seriously again and says „tell your friend I find ya cute” with the most annoying smirk in the entire universe.

Susanoo

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

Susanoo watches you with harsh expression, his eyebrows raising as your attitude doesn’t change. You just stand in front of him and wait for his answer. Kinda hot, he has to admit.

He is amused by this shitty attempt, but still has to admit that it takes some balls to say something so crappy to his face. You’re bold, stupid and definitely not in your right mind.

He would definitely address all of the above and then… respond to you with an even cheaper pickup line that he thinks sounds good. He is very proud of himself and oblivious to the point that it matches his intimidating aura.

Susanoo likes a person who isn’t concerned with what everyone think of them, but he is also a person who expects others to submit to his will, which makes him rather difficult person to flirt with, demanding from you to adapt to his confusing preferences.

Nikola

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.”

BUAHAHAHAHA! HE WOULDN’T GET IT 100%!

He looks at you very confused at first, then he puts to work all of his braincells trying to figure out what you meant. Is this some kind of puzzle? Mystery? It’s clearly impressive, because he struggles to solve it!

Please, stop the brainstorming session before he starts writing his thought on the board and calls members of the science crew asking for the consultations.

After yours short explanation (which probably burnt your soul to the bones with embarrassment) Nikola nods, compliments your clever attempt and… continues what he was doing before this whole masquerade started, oblivious to the fact you just hit on him. So you just stand there and wait for something, but you last barely several dozen seconds before you run away to hide somewhere far, far away.

Much to your surprise, Nikola visits you the next day and invites you for coffee, bluntly.

Hermes

“Can I put my hand on your thigh, where it belongs?”

You sit next to him and get straight to the point. No hesitation, no shame in your eyes. Hermes’ eyes widen for a millisecond as the words leave your lips. Oh? Oh? Oh? He couldn’t help but let his lips stretch into a wide smile, trying to cover his mouth with his hand as a single chuckle escapes his lips.

When he pulls himself together, Hermes lets his playful nature take over. So you thought you were flirty? Hermes is too smart and too cunning to allow you triumph for long. Even if he isn’t interested, he will leave you with a dry mouth and wet panties. Hermes uses the tongue as smoothly as he uses the violin.

Apollo

“I'm sorry, were you talking to me?” He denies, “Well, would you like to?”

My, my, look at you! Approaching the Sun God just like this? Apollo is impressed. In fact, because of how intimidating he is, it's not often that others surprise him with such bravado. Usually they just treat him as something as intangible as the rays of the sun, bathing in his glory, praising him as a celestial being, not as a person. You - on the other hand - are a breath of fresh air.

Once the first shock wears off, his entire figure begins to glow and he gives you the most breathtaking smile you will ever see. From that point on, everything he does comes so naturally that it makes you lose yourself. After making great first impression, you end up like everyone else: Apollo wraps you around his little finger and before you know it, you just sit there and listen to his melodious voice as if you are bewitched. The man is too charming.

Poseidon

“Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

Peasant. Get out.

You aren’t clever. You aren’t brave. You aren’t impressive. The only person that will disappear is gonna be you, if you don’t remove yourself in the next 3 seconds.

Whoever didn’t stop you from approaching Poseidon like this, definitely doesn’t wish you well.

Kojirō

“Aren't you tired? From running through my mind all day?”

The man gives you surprised look, and moment later he presents you his widest smile. Sasaki has no clue what to say, so he just stands before you, rubbing his neck and blushing like teenage girl. He may stammers out a few words of thanks, but you really shouldn’t hope for more. Kojirō is simply not used to compliments, so even the simplest pick-up line can rock his world.

Please, ask him about swordsmanship, because it’s probably the only thing he can talk about while his brain fries in the skull.

Once Kojirō pulls himself together, he turns out to be exactly as carefree and friendly as you expected. The longer you two interact, the more open and less awkward he becomes.

Ares

“Do you have a name, or can I just call you 'mine'?”

Did you just? Huh???

Ares blinks a few times before his brain process information. He can’t believe you said something like that! Do you even know who you are talking to? He is Ares, the God of War! One of the twelve Gods of Olympus and son of Zeus! He deserves more respect, not some pathetic, human-alike attempt at flirting. He shouts all this in your face, making a big scene and ridiculing you in front of the others gods. For a moment he’s proud of himself, but your teary eyes quickly put him in a less mighty state.

To make things worse, you literally run away. At first Ares tries to ignore the feeling of guilt in his chest, pretending that your reaction was childish and exaggerated, but all he needs is Hermes to make a little remark (“Poor thing, it seems she gave her all to speak up.”) to make Ares’ face red.

He mutters some lame excuse to leave and starts looking for you. He still thinks your attempt was awful, but maybe - just maybe - his heart skips a beat knowing that some pretty miss thinks so highly of him.

Jack

“If music be the food of love, let’s have a feast together.”

Okay, this man isn’t used to hearing compliments, let alone hitting on him. Jack is a little shocked, not because he doesn’t understand you, but because you actually chose him. He doesn’t recognize you, but to his great surprise you seem to know a little about him. After all, you referred to Shakespeare. It couldn't have been an accident, right?

“Pardon me, lady?” is probably the first thing out of Jack's mouth as he’s still processing what you’ve said, but he quickly snaps out of his surprise, “Forgive me, where are my manners?”

Jack introduces himself properly, takes off the hat and bows like a gentleman. He then politely asks for your name, still fluttered that you gave him a chance.

Thor

“Did you do something to my eyes? I can't seem to take them off you.”

“…”

Neither Thor nor Mjölnir budge. Well, this is definitely something new; no one has ever approached Thor this way before, so he has to give you some points for creativity. However, don’t expect anything as Thor isn’t interested in continuing the conversation, so it’s up to you if you are interested in one-sided interaction.

Loki

“Well, here I am! What are your other two wishes?”

Loki stares at you without the slightest sign of interest, twirling strand of hair around his finger. He seems distant, almost like he didn’t hear you. Then he flinches, as if snapped out of trance. His face changes in a split second: a wide, forced smile and squinting eyes screaming at you to evacuate, because you’ve hit on the wrong guy. “Do you have a death wish, woman?” Loki asks, his voice has the sweetest tone that tickles your ears, but his words spew poison…

Loki is capricious. I don’t think it’s a matter of wrong pick-up line, it's rather more a matter of right timing. But even if you choose a bad moment to approach him, he probably wouldn’t hurt you (physically) - he prefers to scare others, toy with their fear than kill them.

On the other hand, if your timing is right, then you would still bounce off the wall, because Loki doesn’t intent to give you a straightforward answer; he would like to play with you, confuse you with the mixed signals he sends. He wants a reaction from you, entertain him. If you are cocky - his goal is to crush your self-confidence. Shy? Prepare for blushing, squealing and stuttering. Ah, you think you’re being funny here? Loki will gladly turn your smile into tears.

[pouring-rains]

buzzin' (m.s)

cw; rough angst, drug use, drug addiction, yelling

wc: 1.9k

"Fuck-fuck- goddamnit," you say, pacing around frantically your hands going to your hair and pulling out of stress and worry, hurriedly looking through all of your stash spots trying to find any last pills you had left.

Matt was supposed to arrive home soon, and you didn't realize how low you were on your substances, and you knew that the longer you went without the worse your withdrawal would become, and you were unable to hit up your dealer as Matt would be at the house for the rest of the night.

Matt was completely oblivious to your worsening coping habits, unaware of how reliant you were on pills and other substances to make it through the day-- of how desperate you were to feel different, that you were willing to do just about anything, for another bump or another drink.

It wasn't his fault he didn't notice, he's just been busy with work most days, and he was home less and less, only home on some weekends and nights, but you weren't able to talk as much as you used to, matt tired by the end of his long days filming and working so he was always ready to sleep once he was home.

First, it just started as a little fun, you'd been lonely after Matt started coming home less, and you needed something to fill the void even for a little bit, so you took a vicodin, there were some in the bathroom left over from when you'd dislocated your elbow, and you figured that if they were prescribed to you then what was really the harm--and how fucking wrong you were.

That night you sat on your bed for hours staring at the ceiling and feeling like your entire body was buzzing and filled with pleasureful static--your mind the most blank it's had ever been, and ever since-- you'd never stopped chasing it.

Hearing the door creak open, you stop in your tracks looking toward the sound, your beautiful eyes once bright and full now sunken in and empty, and your youthful skin now looking dull and worn.

"hey baby, how was your day," Matt said while setting his things down and heading over to where you were standing silently in the living room and giving you a warm hug, you could feel the tension in your body leak out as his body meets yours, and you hug him back tightly.

"my day was fine, I didn't really do anything much but clean a few things up and watch a couple of shows and movies while you were gone, what about you?" you say trying to keep your voice steady and normal, not wanting to give anything about your condition away.

"well chris was being a dumbass all day he wouldn't stop fucking burping and acting like a fucking idiot, and nick..." is as much as you register before you get lost in your thoughts unintentionally blocking his voice out, your mind going to how you were going to survive the night without anything to pick you up.

"...are you still listening?" Matt asks waving his hand in front of your eyes to pull you from your trance, "shit, sorry Matt, I'm just kind of tired, didn't mean to ignore you," you say apologetically as you wince at your obvious disengagement in what he's saying.

"oh, that's fine, do you wanna head to bed? I'm kinda beat too," he says with a chuckle. "yeah actually, I'd love that I just feel like I can't stay awake right now," you reply trying to sound tired, voicing out a fake yawn in hopes that he believes you.

"yeah, lemme grab my shit real quick, and then ill head up to the bedroom," he tells you before heading over to the bag he'd set down previously, you turn around to start up the stairs knowing he'd be up soon before going into the bedroom.

You quickly shut off the lights to try and prevent him from getting a closer look at you, the withdrawal starting to set in even further, your frame beginning to shiver. your stomach starts to twist into painful knots as you try to coax yourself into sleep to make them go away when you hear the door open and a shuffle before you feel the bed dip down across from you when matt gets into bed next to you.

"goodnight babe," he says gently while covering himself with the blanket and resting his head on his pillow, "yeah, g'night matty," you say softly, controlling your voice's shakiness to the best of your ability.

Soon enough he fell asleep, but as much as you tried, you were unable to-- every crevice of your dependent brain stuck on the thought of drugs, desperate for any little bit to take this feeling away the horrible pain of your body and mind working against you willing to corrupt every nerve ending with immense pain until you filled your body with drugs to soothe the pain of it all--mental and physical.

After a while the pain got unbearable, and you caved. picking up your phone you shot your dealer a quick text before getting up out of bed very slowly trying to make the least amount of noise possible, intent on not waking up Matt.

After making it out of the bed with minimal noise, you shuffle over to the door opening it slowly, it creaks slightly but not enough to rouse Matt from his sleep.

You close the door carefully before walking downstairs, grabbing your purse, and pulling out some cash. Stepping outside you wait impatiently for your dealer to get there, your skin getting goosebumps from the cold weather as your stomach knots in pain.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, headlights beam onto you as his car pulls up. hurriedly you pull out your cash while he rolls his window down.

"here's your usual," he says, pulling out a little baggy with an assortment of colored pills roughly 10 or so inside. "thanks," you mumble giving him the cash before snatching the bag from his hand and scurrying back inside, shutting the door behind you softly.

"thank fuck," you mumble to yourself walking over to the counter and snatching two baby blue pills out of the baggy and putting them on the countertop before grabbing a salt shaker left on the counter and smashing the pills with the flat edge. grabbing your wallet you pull out your worn debit card using it to line up the ground pills before grabbing a bill out of your wallet, rolling it into a straw-like shape, and snorting the powder.

"what the fuck are you doing?" snapping your head up you look towards the stairs, seeing Matt standing there looking angry, his mouth curled into a frown and his hair mussed with sleep. Your face pales as you realize what he just saw, and what this means for you–fuck.

Tears start to brim at your waterline as you begin to panic, “nothing matt, just- just go back to bed,” you say your voice quivering with worry as you try to stand in front of the blatant evidence of what you were doing–even though he already saw everything.

“no, I know what the fuck I just saw, what the fuck are you doing!?” he expresses, starting to make his way down the rest of the stairs before you know it he’s standing right in front of you staring over your shoulder at the drugs littered across the table.

Taking a shallow inhale you move away from him going over to the kitchen sink and splashing your burning face with cool water and looking at matt’s still form, his eyes still transfixed on the pills on the table, just as you're about to open your mouth he turns suddenly anger beaming from his face and his body shaking.

“why the fuck are you doing this shit, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he says angrily, running his hand through his knotty hair almost as if he was searching through his head for an answer as to why you were doing these such things, knowing perfectly how horrible and addicting they were.

“because I don't know what the fuck else to do matt, why the fuck do you think!” you shout clenching your fists into balls and digging your nails into your palm trying to alleviate this stress in some way. 

“well, I'm certainly not fucking sure why you started this shit in the first place, why the fuck would you do this? you know how I fucking feel about drugs especially shit like this!” pushing back his hair once again he looks up at you, his anger losing momentum as he fully takes in your broken-down appearance, seeing for the first time how truly beat down you look.

“because I can’t fucking do this anymore matt, I fucking hate living like this, I hate my life, and your never fucking home I don't know what I'm supposed to fucking do anymore!” your voice breaking in the middle of your sentences as more and more tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I-i- don't know how to stop anymore, it just got out of hand so fast and now I can't get through a day without them matt, I don't know what to do,” you say defeatedly, done with lashing out and leaving only exhaustion in place of your previous anger. For a second there was only pure silence after you finished speaking, assuming Matt was either going to leave or was now just ignoring you, until you felt his presence beside you, his warm body wrapping around your clammy figure.

“I- don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry I didn't know everything was getting this bad baby–why didn’t you talk to me? why did you have to turn to this?” he says, pulling you closer while you conceal yourself within his body trying to sink into him in an attempt to disappear so you wouldn't have to deal with all of it anymore–so you wouldn’t have to answer him, tell him how you made a bad mistake and it had snowballed into this big problem you weren’t sure you could ever fix.

“I- don’t know matt, it was just so fucking overwhelming I didn’t know what to do, I’m so so sorry matt,” your tears starting to leak into his hoodie as he tucks you impossibly closer against him trying his best to shield you from all of the hurt and pain you’re being put through mentally.

While his own heart was breaking into pieces for all the pain you were going through, and all the time he didn’t notice and let you dig yourself deeper into this hole of drug abuse, he was doing his best to help you and make sure you knew he was there for you now. “shh- it’s gonna be okay, we can do this together m’gonna help you get better baby, you’re not gonna feel alone anymore okay? I’m so sorry I haven't been around as much and that it got this bad without me noticing, I'm here now I promise, and I'm here to stay, okay?”

“okay matt,” you sigh, hiccuping into his chest, though it was going to be painful, and absolutely fucking horrible–at least now you had someone there, someone to support you and help you through it, and make sure you were happy, and felt loved–and sometimes that makes all the difference.

taglist : @chaossturns @freshlove-sturn @colorthecosmos444 @anxietyriddenblue @immattsslut @muchloveforhacker @pinksturniolo @mattshighway @sabsturned @fratbrochrisgf @star-neo-love @imwetforyourmom @blahbel668

[thetxtdevil]

Heyyy

I just found your acc and I'm completely obsessed with your writing! Loving it sm 😍

So, I have a request: txt masturbating and mc actually ends up listening or watching in secret. And I'd like to see the other way round too. They listening and getting all excited, but too stunned to do something about it (maybe in the future,idk)

I'm sorry if you already received this request and already have posted it!

Thanks again for your attention 💓 you rock!

Hey 👋 thank you for reading! 🤭

I'll answer with the members getting caught on this one, but I am definitely interested in making the reader getting caught too 😗 I will say I kinda went away from the secret part of their doings

---

Yeonjun

You decided to stay over, too lazy to drive back to your house after a lazy day with your friend. Yeonjun sets out an inflatable bed next to his placing blanket after blanket on the bed. Snuggling to the soft fabric you couldn't help but to sink into the smell of Yeonjun. The room fell dark when you claimed that you were going to sleep. Yeonjun twists and turns in his bed, his head going back to your part of the room. All day he was feeling needy and once he was about to take a cold shower you called to hang out. Now Yeonjun was still needy and the feeling increases seeing your sleepy breaths. Maybe I can be quiet... he thinks, but we all know that plan is going to flop. When he starts touching himself and you lay there hearing all his soft sighs and groans making you rub your thighs together. Maybe when he's done you'll touch yourself see how he likes it...

Soobin

You let Soobin stay for the night gathering supplies for his bed and handing him towels for his shower. Soobin walks into your bathroom, he's been in there before, but the thought of him being naked in the same place you've been naked takes over his mind. Steam quickly thickens the air as Soobin takes his time in the shower, smelling all of your good scented soaps. What would it be like if you decided to join him right now?.. Soobin and you were friends but his perverted mind always liked to wonder. Lost in his thoughts and the friction on cock was too delicious to hear you creep in to brush your teeth. While looking at your shadow in the fogged up mirror you hear lewd noises. "Are you masturbating in my shower?" you hear the noises immediately stop. You walk over to the curtain pulling it to reveal the tall man resting one arm on the tile wall and the other arm slowly jerking himself. His face blushed, eyes staring at you, you lean on the wall waiting for the man to explain his position. However, Soobin felt like he had nothing to explain and continues to rub himself in front of you.

Beomgyu

This mf would be loud, getting caught wasn’t accidental it was planned. He was your roommate and boy did he like to tease you because he knew that you had a crush on him so bad. Seeing you working on your laptop in the living room, that is connected to his bedroom may I add, he took the ultimate chance to tease you. Beomgyu walks in front of your sitted position to grab the hand lotion for everyones use. You watch him with confusion and he just smiles. You go back to work when you hear Gyu's bedroom door close. Moments later, already feeling tired and bored with work you hear him, every tone of Beomgyu's moans and hisses. You stare at the screen in front of you but you weren't doing anything other than dreaming of what is making him make those beautiful sounds.

Taehyun

and Taehyun, well he's very quiet, just wants to relieve himself in the comfort of his bed. He's close, oh so close the electrifying feeling of a climax is so good. However, when he peeks an eye open to get a good look at his tense abs and ready to cum cock he sees you. There you were standing with the door wide open just like your mouth. Originally, you came to his house wanting to borrow a book from him and when you look around the empty apartment you last resort was his bedroom and now you couldn't move. How could you when you were in the presence of your very hot friend who was very exposed. Your eyes went from his dick to his eyes and the next thing you know he’d be cussing you out.

Huening Kai

High sex drive Kai wants to feel himself :( So when you two are having a movie night at your place he can't help but to think... Seeing you biting your lip, eyebrows furrowed in concern of the action that is taking place in the movie, you were too cute and yet sexy. He nonchalantly fixes the blankets to try his best to hide his hand movements. But this boy doesn't know how to keep quiet, a sigh can pass with no second thought but when you hear a obvious moan, your focus on the movie fades away. You look over to Kai and his eyes were wide from embarrassment. Your gaze drifts down to the now obvious tent within the blanket. You sigh, should you help your friend or not?..

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[wachtelspinat]

i can't help but feel like my drawing days are kind of over. not entirely, i'll still be drawing from time to time. and deffo not because i want to. but i'm having this exact same feeling since mid 2022, since i was really struggling with my elective period, i kind of disconnected with art there and never truly found my way back. on top of everything that came after - moving, starting a job and working to be good at it which leaves such little room for other things because i can't handle my life well - there is just so much horrible shit going on. and i'm having a hard time comprehending it.

a part of me also feels very stupid for drawing one thing for almost 4 years now constantly, but another part of me knows "hey, but this makes you happy". it's a constant battle in my head because online spaces are like school grounds, and i don't actually wanna stand in the corner as that one kid that just can't shut up about that one character. but then again all i ever did was drawing fanart so... what does it. who gives a shit. be cringe and be free alright. but it kinda feels so hollow, esp. when you're at it for so long. a lot of mutuals move on. some are not even active anymore anywhere. and i wonder what happened. plus a huge chunk of the tone of the fandom has changed. also with the source material getting butchered so hard (since the release of ow2) it just kills the fun. playing this game used to be fun. playing this game was one thing that helped me getting through the last meters of university. it's like watching the downfall of the simpsons again without making the comparison too set in stone, just... this thing that used to be decent and nice and watching it getting ruined in real time (broken promises about pve, the recent gameplay changes?? the lore was fucked up from the start but they kind of tried, now it's just skins for 20+ dollars) while still having feelings for the characters is shit. anyway...

i recently went through a big folder of stuff i'd drawn at the age of 12-15 and there were so many fucked up but cool monster and cyborgs designs and just silly stupid stuff and all i could think of was that i felt so distanced from it, like i don't even know i think this is normal? because a lot of time has passed and a lot has happened and i knew i've drawn all this but i wasn't able to locate the person who did in my present me now and... it's just so normal that things move constantly forward but i feel like i missed huge chunks and passed a few stops and now i'm kind of lost.

i don't even know what i'm trying to say here anymore. i just feel sad because it feels like sth is slipping out of my grasp or sth has changed tremendously and i don't know how to make damage control.

i keep trying tho, i try to draw once a week at least. it's just like as soon as i take a step back and look at it i don't feel it at all. gonna continue tho, until it makes sense again i hope.

[werewolf-witchboy]

Rodrick Heffley X male reader

You and Rodrick are both emo, dumb, and queer. 💀

This is shorter than what I usually post.

Also, for some reason every time I typed "Rodrick" it always autocorrected to "Rodriguez" lmfao. I tried fixing it every time it did that, so hopefully there aren't any leftover "Rodriguez's" that I didn't catch.

You can't help but find it funny that Rodrick's mom busted him for having a porno mag, you teased him about it for weeks.

However, what you've just found in Rodrick's closet was a lot harder to tease him about. You didn't even think you should mention that you found it, you debated on keeping it a secret forever.

Rodrick had asked you to run up to his room to grab another pair of drumsticks for him, which he said was in his closet.

The drumsticks were nowhere to be found, so you had to dig around a little. Instead you found another porno magazine- which wouldn't have even phased you honestly, only what shocked you is that it's a gay porno magazine.

Rodrick was the type to make jokes about himself being into dudes, but you didn't actually think he was. After all, he has been your best friend ever since you moved to Plainview at the beginning of your Freshmen year.

You've both been through so much together; struggling through all 4 years of highschool as the wild emo outcasts, graduating, and forming the Löaded Diaper! You've even come out to him and told him you like guys, so you didn't think he'd keep something like that from you.

Maybe it's not that big of a deal. He probably didn't even know he had a gay porno mag amongst all of his junk. For all you know, it could have been one of yours that you left at his place.

Then again...why would you bring one of your own porno's to someone else's house?

You must have been taking forever getting the drum sticks that you originally came for, because minutes later Rodrick came through the door.

"You find em'? I know my closet is a mess, but-" Rodrick froze when you bravely showcased the magazine instead of a pair of drumsticks.

"Let me guess...this isn't yours?" You teased, mocking what he told his mom about the other magazine.

Rodrick stood up straight and cleared his throat, then strode over to snatch your find away.

"It is mine. Not like you should be surprised."

Well now your brain is malfunctioning.

"Um I am a little surprised, considering my best friend never told me he also likes dudes!" You try not to sound hurt, but it was kind of hard to hide your frustration considering you told him everything.

Rodrick legitimately looked dumbfounded and you tried not to laugh through your pout.

"What do you think I mean whenever I say shit like 'Kellin Quinn is my dream guy' and 'I'd kiss you if you'd let me'?!"

Your eyeliner smudged eyes are probably buldgeing out of your head right now.

"Um...I thought they were jokes?" Even as those words are coming out of your mouth you felt kinda stupid. For as long as you've known Rodrick, he's always said stuff like that.

Anyone also knows that Rodrick is never subtle when it comes to flirting, so you should have probably known that all of the random pickup lines he's used on you were most likely serious.

Rodrick's mouth hung open. "So you're telling me that I've basically just been hitting on a brick wall for 5 years?"

"i'M sOrRy! You know I have low self esteem! Whenever people like me I never notice because I don't think people will ever like me!!" Words all blended together as you spoke in a fast panicked pace.

Rodrick quite literally facepalmed.

You're lucky your obliviousness is cute or else he'd pumble you for talking down about yourself.

"I don't even know what to say right now." Rodrick was lost for words.

You awkwardly fiddled with your fingers, still sitting on the floor of his room in front of the closet. "If it means anything, I've had a crush on you for almost as long as I've known you." You puffed your cheeks out, feeling them becoming warm, probably turning pink.

Rodrick choked on his own spit. "iF IT MEANS ANYTHING TO ME???? HELL YES IT DOES!! How the heck you have a crush on me of all people?!" You looked down at the floor, kinda shocked that he doesn't understand why you'd like him.

"You're literally a hot emo boy who wasn't mean to me when I moved here. I had nothing before I met you, and you took me on so many adventures and showed me so many new things. I'm glad I met you, and it was hard not to fall for you."

It felt like you ranted a little too much, probably spilled a little to much and made yourself seem like a bit of a lonely loser without Rodrick.

You got a little scared when he wasn't saying anything. Your gaze lifted from the floor to meet his calculating expression.

His reply was simply just "can we makeout?"

aNd oF cOuRse yOu sAid yEs, and he tripped over his own shoes when tried to tackle you on the floor. The two of you ended up tangled together in a heated makout session that felt so satisfying after pining over each other for 5 damn years. You're both so stupid I stfg lol.