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say-al0e · 10 months ago

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What Are Friends For

Rating: M | This is smut, no one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: A conversation with friends reminds you that you're about to begin college as a virgin. It bothers you more than you care to admit so you consult your best friend, Eddie; is virginity really that much of a turn off? (Or, best friend!Eddie takes your virginity) Warnings: virgin!reader, PinV, some nerves about virginity and first times. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.2k

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, one knee bent with an elbow resting atop it, in a rare display of quiet contemplation. With his back pressed to the dresser, cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he scribbled in the notebook he used to write lyrics and, occasionally, plan campaigns.

Rain pattered against the roof of the trailer, heavy and loud and easily drowning out the tape Eddie had playing to fill the quiet. From your perch on his bed, yellowed paperback held open in your hands, you could see it falling in sheets outside the window. With the weather so dreary, there was little you could do other than sit inside - bored, miserable, rereading a book borrowed from Eddie’s shelf that you could practically recite in your sleep - and with him otherwise occupied, you were left alone with thoughts you preferred not to dwell on.

Though you’d read the book in hand a dozen times, could recite the notes Eddie’d scribbled in the margins by heart, if he asked, it would be impossible to relay where in the plot you’d stopped. The words that usually captivated you blurred into one, a mess of nonsensical characters in fading ink, so you dropped it into the sheets with a quiet sigh and rolled onto your side to glance at Eddie in hopes of finding a distraction.

The dark curls you loved were tamed into a low bun, hair swept away from his neck to provide some sort of relief from the oppressive summer heat, with a few strands framing his face. The plush of his lips were swollen, bitten in concentration over the course of the day as he stared intently at the paper. Those dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as he scribbled relentlessly and you could see the tip of his tongue as he pressed it between his lips.

Eddie’s leather jacket and battle vest were replaced by a cutoff Metallica shirt, cropped at the bottom to expose his lower stomach - the band of his shorts, the missing band of his underwear, the dark smattering of hair just beneath his navel between splotches of ink trailing into the band of his shorts - every time he shifted. Most of his tattoos were on display, save for the ones near his collarbones, and you wondered if he realized you could draw most of them from memory.

It would’ve been nice to be able to say that you were struck, just in that moment, by how attractive Eddie was. To confess that you’d never noticed how achingly beautiful your best friend was would’ve been a lie as his beauty was something you’d always seen.

Few things baffled you more than how people - closed-minded classmates, shallow girls who sought out pigheaded jocks - saw Eddie as anything other than breathtakingly beautiful. His personality was enough, a kind heart and a brilliant mind, but personality aside, you always thought he looked like someone out of a magazine. He was a rockstar stuck in tiny little Hawkins, a figure from your wildest fantasies brought to life.

The wild curl of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the bright glimmer of his eyes; it all made you giddy, a little lovesick in a way only Nikki Sixx had so far managed. With every glimpse of Eddie that you stole, you grew a little more enamored and as a conversation you’d had earlier that morning simmered at the forefront of your mind, you wondered if that was part of the problem.

A conversation with friends, the majority of whom rarely pressed about your love life - mostly because they knew there was nothing to share, in part due to your feelings for Eddie - that began as excited chatter about college, classes, and, ultimately, boys, sent you spiraling.

Somehow, the conversation went from playful fun to pressing for details about your lack of dates and, finally, a shared certainty that college would change things for you. However, an off-handed comment about inexperience being a turn-off made you question whether college would change anything at all.

Pulling yourself back to reality, reminding yourself that the only opinion that mattered was your own, proved impossible. Every thought that crossed your mind centered on your inexperience, a trait your friends acknowledged and giggled at, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out.

“Eddie?”

If he noticed the tremor in your voice - and, this time, he likely didn’t - he said nothing. Instead, he hummed his acknowledgement. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

The pet name was casual, something that slipped off his tongue easily, just as it had done a thousand times before without a second thought, but it never failed to set fire to your skin. There was something about the way his voice wrapped around the word, a little rough around the edges but dripping honey - a little darker, a little deeper - in a tone you’d never been privy to, that had your heart hammering in your chest. The thud of it was loud, drowned out the music and the rain, and you wondered if Eddie could hear it, too, as he glanced up at you for the first time in an hour.

Whatever expression you thought you’d hidden, however careful you imagined you’d been, Eddie saw right through you. With only a tentative glance at your face, his lips pulled into a frown as he dropped his composition book into a pile of laundry before shuffling closer to you. When he sat with his back pressed to the bed, arm lifting to rest on the mattress as his hand sought yours, you could see the concern clouding his eyes. “You alright?”

A brief thought of brushing him off, of pretending that you were fine - bored, or maybe tired, just for an excuse to have sought his attention - but Eddie knew you well. He’d seen your face, caught the glimpse of upset in your eyes, and wouldn’t settle for anything less than a real answer.

With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your knees and spared him a sideways glance. “I… You know how I’ve never…”

An annoyed huff, bothered by how difficult it seemed to be just to say the words, escaped as you shook your head. Eddie tipped his to get a better look at your face and the weight of his gaze burning into your skin made it difficult to concentrate. Regardless of the knowledge that this was Eddie - someone who loved you, someone who wouldn’t judge you or laugh at you, despite how objectively stupid you imagined you were being - it was still difficult to string together a coherent sentence.

“Can you not look at me, please? I can’t think with you looking at me.”

Eddie was unfazed by your request. It was one he’d grown used to over the years, one you threw at him every time you wanted to discuss something serious - or embarrassing or simply vulnerable - and couldn’t find the nerve. So, instead of questioning you, he simply pushed himself up and climbed onto the bed to join you. He shifted his body to press his back to the wall, stretched his legs across the mattress, and held out a hand.

“Alright, c’mere.”

When you placed your hand in his, shifted onto your knees to shuffle a little closer, Eddie twined his fingers with yours and tugged. With little effort, he hauled you onto his lap. A soft hand pressed to the back of your head and guided your face to hide in the crook of his neck - a position you’d been in a thousand times before, a position that made you feel safe to bare your soul.

This time, however, you felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribcage as you grew overwhelmingly aware of the heat of Eddie’s body pressed to yours. Everything seemed too clear, too loud, too real; the green apple scent of his shampoo, the herbal hint of weed that always seemed to linger, the softness of his skin as your hand rested against his bicep, the firm press of his body as he held you in place, the callous of his fingers as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to brush at the bare skin of your back.

It was almost too much.

Rather than comforting, you felt Eddie’s touch set your skin alight. It needled at your nerve endings, hastened the pace of your already spiraling thoughts, and you nearly lost your train of thought as he hummed to regain your attention.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

The rasp of his voice in your ear, warm and soft and concerned in a way he only ever seemed to be for you, cut clear through the hammering of your heart. It filled your chest with a sticky warmth and you inhaled as deep as you could in an effort to steel yourself for the conversation you weren’t certain you wanted to have.

“You know how I had breakfast with my friends this morning?” Eddie hummed, acknowledging the plans you’d had before the day devolved into rain and quiet. “We were talking and I know it’s stupid, but I just… I started thinking about it and I couldn’t stop.”

Eddie hummed, acknowledging and encouraging you to continue, as he waited patiently. “I’ve never really been on a date and guys don’t really like me. That’s fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not,” you amended, huffing slightly as you traced his tattoo idly. “But there’s not a lot I can do to change it. Anyway, they were kind of laughing about it. They were talking about college changing things and then Amanda said it would be a major turnoff and I… Well, she’s right. I don’t want to go to college a virgin who’s never even held hands with someone romantically. It’s not a major deal but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I really don’t want to have some cute college guy ask me to make out and have to tell him that I’ve never done that and him think I’m a total loser and lose interest in me.”

The entire confession spilled past your lips in a rushed whisper, mumbled against Eddie’s skin in a hurried huff as you wasted no time thinking. Thinking about it, agonizing over how to express your concern, would only make it harder and you knew that getting it all out in the open would be the easiest option.

Still, that did little to calm your racing heart as Eddie’s hands stilled against your skin.

“Sweetheart.” He sighed, understanding and just a little gentler than you were accustomed to, as he lifted one hand to cup your cheek. “Look at me, please.” With great effort, you allowed him to tip your head so that he could search your face. After a beat of silence, he assured you. “There’s nothing wrong with still being a virgin and it’s not a turnoff. If some asshole college guy thinks any different of you, that’s his loss. Just means he’s not the one for you.”

Rationally, you knew that.

That was something you’d told yourself a thousand times over, a reminder repeated every time the topic arose. But rationality had little place in the whirlwind of emotion the conversation drudged up.

“I know,” you promised him, dipping your head to focus on the fading letters of his t-shirt. Tracing the nearly destroyed ink, you hummed. “I just… I don’t want to be pressured into it and I don’t want it to be a bad memory. I know it’s not going to be perfect but I just want it to be good. I want it to be like something from a movie.” Though you didn’t really want to know, though you knew it would only curdle the already sour thoughts in the pit of your stomach, you allowed yourself to ask. “How was yours?”

Eddie laughed quietly as he resumed his soft stroking of your skin. “Nothing is like the movies,” he declared, pausing only when you huffed. “Not to rain on your parade or anything,” he teased. “But all of my firsts were pretty shitty. My first kiss was under the bleachers in junior high and she laughed at me after because it was just a dare. And my first time was over in, like, three seconds. I was high and horny and came the second she let me inside. I’m just glad she never told anyone. But shit happens, sweetheart. It gets better, easier. Just find someone you trust.”

Without thinking, you said, “I trust you.” For a split second, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. You willed a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole as you immediately lifted your hand to cover your mouth. “I don’t… I don’t know why I just said that. Fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie. I-“

Instead of allowing you to pull away, to put a considerable amount of space between you both, Eddie held you tight to his chest as he tipped your head once more. “It’s okay,” he assured you, dipping his head to meet your eyes. There was no hint of anger - no disgust or annoyance, no amusement; none of the negativity you imagined you’d see - and you swallowed your rising panic as he urged, “Calm down, sweetheart. Take a breath.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you repeated.

“For what?” Eddie’s question was honest, uncertain as to why you were apologizing, and you could only shrug as you withered beneath the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t know. I just… felt like I needed to?”

A beat of silence passed as Eddie studied your face. You weren’t quite sure what he was looking for but he seemed to find it as his thumb brushed your cheekbone.

“Complete honesty, alright?” It was a request Eddie made rarely as he always trusted you to be honest. It was only made in moments like this - moments of unrivaled vulnerability, moments that saw you both struggling to speak normally - and you granted it readily.

“Alright.”

“Is this… Do you want me to be your first?” The question was blunt - maybe more so than Eddie intended - but you appreciated his directness even as you inhaled sharply.

“I think so,” you admitted, unable to shift your gaze even as his warm brown eyes set your skin alight. “I mean, I trust you, more than anyone else. You’re… You’re Eddie,” you pointed out, smiling softly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t think there’s anyone better.”

“This isn’t something you have to do, sweetheart. You don’t have to lose it right now,” he reminded you, soft but certain. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Whoever you end up choosing, if they’re the right person, they won’t mind. I know you trust me but you don’t have to choose me just because you want to get it over with.”

“That’s not why I’m choosing you.” Eddie tipped his head, an uncertainty few others were allowed to see flickering across his face as he awaited your elaboration. “I know that this will change everything,” you admitted, voice a whisper behind the rain.

“It doesn’t have to,” Eddie interjected, voice as quiet as you’d ever heard it. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t, is entirely up to you.”

“But I want it to!” He blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice, but kept quiet as you continued. “The reason I’ve had so much trouble finding someone else, someone I want, is because I want you. I have for a long time.”

Though you’d known how you felt about Eddie for a long while - swallowed it down, hid it for fear of ruining the best friendship you’d ever had - admitting the words aloud felt final. It felt heavy, sinking to the pit of your stomach like a stone, but you knew that the only way out was through.

There were only two options. The first, Eddie would reject you - never harshly, soft and sweet in the way he seemed to only be with you - seemed most likely to you. But the second, that was the option you wished for.

Eddie returning your feelings, wanting you just as you wanted him, seemed plausible some days. When he held your hand in crowds, when he lounged in his bed and spent hours discussing books and movies and music with you, when he threw an arm around your shoulders and grinned brighter than the sun every time you made it to one of his shows; you saw a future in which he loved you, too.

But insecurity, irrational and loud, told you that you were imagining the softness of his touch or the gentle tone of his voice. It made you uneasy, kept you from admitting your feelings for fear of the worst, and you nearly wished you’d allowed the insecurity to win as silence stretched around you.

Until Eddie spoke and destroyed any remaining shred of insecurity.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while, sweetheart.”

Soft fingers brushed across your cheek, tracing the slope lightly as Eddie watched you blink owlishly. There was a moment of stunned silence, a beat in which you wondered if your dalliances with the supernatural had damaged your hearing more significantly than you’d realized, before you inhaled deeply.

“Are you… are you sure?”

The soft smile on Eddie’s face was reassuring. “Very sure. Remember when we first met?” A spark of memory - a flash of the past, the moment you nearly bowled him over on your way to find Steve before facing yet another supernatural threat - as your brows furrowed. “I started going to history after that, just ‘cause I knew you were in that class.”

“That’s been a while.” It hadn’t, not really - not in the grand scheme of the misery of Hawkins - but it felt like forever as Eddie shrugged.

“Time flies,” he declared with a half-shrug. The soft brush of Eddie’s fingers across your rapidly heating skin continued, easily mapping the features you occasionally caught him studying with an intensity you now recognized as love, and he smiled as you inhaled a shaking breath.

“I don’t know if I remember a time before falling in love with you.”

The admission was quiet, a whisper in the still of Eddie’s room, but it felt as if you’d shouted it. Vulnerability was not new, not with Eddie, though baring your soul so completely was terrifying. He accepted it easily, however, and smiled as he cradled your jaw.

“You don’t have to butter me up, sweetheart,” he teased - an effort to lighten the mood, not downplay your emotions, and ease the deafening thundering of your heart. “I’m already yours.”

With that, he leaned in and bumped your nose with his own. He waited, giving you the final choice - whether you truly wanted to take that step or not - and allowed you to make the first move.

Though you knew Eddie would never make fun of you - not for something serious, something that meant so much to you, anyway - there was still a sense of hesitance as you studied him. Up close, you could see the tiny imperfections, the little lines and freckles and spots that made him, him, and you knew that this was what you wanted.

Before he could reassure you, tell you that it was fine if you weren’t sure, if you needed more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss itself was not perfect. It was not something out of a film, with fireworks and an immediate, instinctual understanding of what to do. It was clumsy, a little tentative, and curious, but it was good. The warmth of Eddie’s palm bleeding into your skin, the brush of his curls as his bangs tickled your forehead, the soft exhale he released as you pressed closer, just a touch relieved you felt comfortable enough to trust him with this; all elements you would’ve never considered important before the moment at hand.

But all too soon, it was over.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Eddie broke the embrace, pulled away just enough to allow you to draw in a deep breath, and smiled. “You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he teased, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he took in the sight of you - glazed eyes, parted lips. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”

With anyone else, it would’ve felt like a slight - a jab, rude and mean-spirited - but you knew Eddie. You knew that it was light, fond, and rolled your eyes in response. “Breathe, got it,” you nodded, serious in your study. “Any other notes?”

“Nah. For a first kiss, it wasn’t too bad,” he hummed, after pausing a moment in faux thought. There was a dramatic air of seriousness, though you could tell he was still teasing. “Technique could use a little work, though.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, a glittering mirth that told you he wasn’t poking fun at you - not really, not maliciously - and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded. “I suppose someone will have to teach me,” you reasoned, fingers twisting in his curls when he hummed as if it was the most rational thought. “I learn through experience.”

That grin returned, bright - pleased that you seemed to have relaxed; and, truly, you had, as there was nothing to fear in Eddie’s embrace. He’d proven that time and time again. “Lucky for you,” he hummed, tipping his head to brush your lips with his own, “I’m an excellent teacher. Very committed. Willing to spend all night here, if that’s what it takes.”

Then, his lips were on yours once again.

This kiss was more certain, a little more eager, as Eddie took the reins and guided you. He used the hand cradling your jaw to tip your head, to turn it just the way he wanted, and hummed encouragingly as you melted into him. It was still a little clumsy, still exploratory in a way you’d never experienced, but to you, it was perfect.

And as Eddie’s free hand began to drift down your shoulder, careful not to move too fast, you broke from him just long enough to speak.

“It’s okay,” you promised him, breathless - chest heaving, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “You can touch me. I want you to.”

With that, you returned your mouth to his.

Every press of Eddie’s mouth to yours, every swipe of his fingers over your heated skin, should’ve made you more nervous. This was farther than you’d ever gone, a complete deviation from the norm in which you were overlooked - only heard about experiences such as this from friends - and you worried there would be an overwhelming anxiety in the pit of your stomach as you attempted to gain some of that experience.

However, as Eddie’s hands began to wander and his tongue traced the seam of your lips, you found that it was the exact opposite.

Eddie made you comfortable, set you completely at ease.

The idea that this would be the culmination of every experience you’d dreamt of having didn’t make you nervous. The rapid thundering of your heart was not from fear but an excitement, a gratitude that your firsts were being taken by someone you’d loved for so long.

There was an eagerness, not to get it over with but to experience it - to understand you’d been missing. And Eddie seemed to realize that as his hands began to dip beneath the hem of your shirt.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he urged, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes - grinning when you blinked slowly, attempting to regain your sense of reality. “How’d you imagine your first time? Bet it was romantic, maybe some candles or something. Not here, with Metallica playing in the background.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted, fingers playing with the strands fallen from his low bun. “But other times it was quick, in someone’s backseat with the radio playing, just to get it over with, I think. But, lately…” Eddie hummed, urging you to continue, as his hands drifted higher - fingers brushing the underside of your breasts, dragging back down your stomach and stealing your focus. “Lately, it’s been you and it’s been here and Metallica’s been playing in the background. You’re in my head but you’re prettier in real life.”

“Flattery, sweetheart,” he teased, grin bright as he tipped his head to nose at your jaw, though you could see the emotion glittering in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about this,” he admitted, hands lifting higher - cupping your breasts, earning a gasp from you at the warmth of his palms against your skin. “‘Bout you, here. What you’d look like, what you’d sound like,” he hummed, appreciative when you sighed contentedly as he began to knead the soft flesh. “Think I like the real thing more.”

From your position on his lap, you could feel him growing harder, pressed to your thigh as you shifted. He hid it well, his own desire, but you heard the sharp inhale he released as you reached for the scrunchie holding his hair back and brushed the tent in his shorts.

“Can I take this off?” The question was breathed against your skin, nearly lost to the heavy thud of your heart, but you managed to nod as Eddie’s hands fell to the hem of your top.

Eddie had seen you in a bathing suit before, had seen you in just a bra after a torrential downpour left you both soaked and shivering, but this was different. Soon, he would see you completely and though you felt a bit of nerves, you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t judge. So, you shifted and worked to get rid of the soft fabric.

When your shirt joined a handful of others on his floor, he made no effort to ogle you - though you imagined that would come later, when he knew you were well and truly relaxed. Instead, he returned his mouth to yours and his hands to cup your breasts.

With you sufficiently distracted, Eddie easily maneuvered the pair of you so that you were on your back, lying pliant beneath him. When you hummed, laughed slightly at the bounce as you both settled into the mattress, he broke the kiss and pressed his mouth to your rapidly overheating skin. He started at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, before beginning to trail a path down your throat.

“If you change your mind,” he hummed, voice muffled against your skin, “just tell me. Tell me everything, okay? Don’t worry about being too loud. No such thing.”

“Not gonna change my mind,” you assured him, voice pitching higher as his teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “Want this, want you.”

At that, Eddie continued his descent. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake and you gave in to his urging to not worry about your volume. With each brush of his mouth, each tickle of his hair against your skin, you made no effort to hide the soft noises of pleasure. And with each one, Eddie seemed to grow more and more eager.

Those wide eyes lifted to meet yours as he reached your chest, one hand kneading soft flesh as he nipped at the sensitive skin of the opposite breast. He sucked a bruise into the skin, shooting you a wink as he did so, before dipping lower and capturing your nipple between his lips. And when you gasped, hands flying to his hair, he hummed in approval.

Eddie spent a few moments focusing on your breasts, moments in which you realized you couldn’t have chosen a better first partner - someone who loved you, someone who was more interested in making the moment good for you than he was in the act itself - before he began to dip lower.

“I’m totally down to eat you out,” he offered, glancing up at you with those wide eyes, “but if you’re not up for it yet, that’s okay. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

For a moment, you considered his offer. The press of his body to yours, the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his hands and mouth; it was all overwhelming, in the most beautiful way. Still, you weren’t sure if that was something you wanted in that moment. It sounded fun, and he seemed very serious about his offer, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted so soon. So, you decided to decline his offer, for the time being.

“Next time,” you promised, fingers carding through his curls as he pressed soft kisses to your stomach. “I… Sounds nice, but feels like too much this time,” you admitted, not ashamed but almost.

Eddie, however, easily accepted your answer. “Might be,” he agreed, with an easy grin. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.” It was teasing, accompanied by another wink, and made you roll your eyes.

“You’re pretty good at never closing it,” you countered, squealing when he nipped your skin.

“We’ll revisit this conversation when you’re comfortable,” he teased, grinning as he shifted up and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

As he distracted you with a kiss - this one messier, more eager than the last - his hands continued to wander. They trailed down your stomach, traced the same path as his lips, before dipping beneath the band of your shorts. His fingers brushed the warm skin, earning a sharp gasp.

“Still okay?” The question was breathed against your lips, and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, though your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest. “Still okay.”

Calloused fingers dipped lower, brushed over the fabric of your panties, and slipped between your spread thighs. There wasn’t a ton of room for him to move, and you realized that he was at least trying to get you used to the sensation as his fingers brushed the fabric covering your folds. If he felt the damp patch - he did, you could tell by the pleased grin he wore - he said nothing. He would tease you for it later. This time, he simply returned his mouth to yours.

Eddie gave you a few moments to adjust to his touch, his fingers brushing the fabric - teasing, soft - before he nudged the now soaked fabric aside and allowed his fingers to drag through the slick gathered there. His touch was light, not hesitant but conscious, careful, waiting in case you changed your mind.

It should’ve made you nervous, should’ve set you on edge, but there was only pleasure as you melted into his embrace and tugged at the curls framing his face as his thumb found your clit.

The touch was electric, filled your veins with a blistering warmth that seemed all encompassing, and you began to understand why your friends made such a big deal of it all. The touch itself was good, better than your own fingers, but knowing that it was Eddie, with his wide eyes and pretty smile, made it that much better.

Every press of his fingers grew more experimental, dragging through your folds and coating his fingers in slick. He teased, brushed lightly and swallowed every sigh and soft moan you released. And after a few long, torturous moments, he finally pressed a finger to your entrance and pulled away just enough to catch sight of your face.

“I’m okay,” you promised him, before he could ask. He hummed, acknowledging, and slowly began to pump his finger, getting you used to the motion. “I kinda get it,” you hummed, gasping as his thumb brushed your clit.

“Mm, get what?”

Eddie pressed a second finger in, then, and his fingers were larger than yours. It was a bit of a stretch, a little more than you were used to, but it was nice and you told him as much as you leaned in to nip his jaw. “Why people like this, why my friends talk about it all the time.”

A quiet laugh filled your ears as he began to work you open, careful to prepare you. “Good. Glad this hasn’t put you totally off sex forever,” he teased, before he brushed his thumb over your clit and earned himself another moan. “Glad you’re not totally questioning why the fuck you thought trusting me with this was a good idea,” he laughed.

“I trust you with everything,” you promised, gasping as he began to work his fingers a touch faster and pressed a spot that made your head spin. “Oh, fuck.”

“There?” Eddie grinned, pleased to have found that spot, and made certain to pay special attention to it as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “C’mon,” he urged, “make some noise for me, sweetheart.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, and with the quickening press of his fingers into you, you found it easier and easier to make the noise he was hoping to hear. Though his space was limited, he made the most of it. He paid close attention to what made you gasp, what made you sigh, what made you moan. And with each swipe of his fingers, with every brush of his thumb over your clit, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into him as the fire burning in your veins threatened to consume you entirely.

Though your friends warned you that much of it was over quick, you hadn’t quite anticipated just how fast Edie would be able to push you over the edge. But after only a few moments of his eager ministrations, the press of his fingers and his thumb and the brush of his mouth over your heated skin, you found yourself falling over the edge with a cry of his name.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice tight as he lifted his head to watch you - the part of your lips, the flutter of your lashes, the heave of your chest. “Look pretty, coming for me. Wanna make you do it again.”

The gravel in his voice, a rasp you’d never heard, made your head spin and your chest ache in a pleasant way as his fingers continued pressing, pushing you through the aftershocks. All that existed in your mind was him; Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Despite the difficulty you felt in catching your breath, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was pulling him close and pressing your mouth to his.

Eddie easily gave in, allowed you to take your fill of him, and only removed his hand from between your thighs when you grasped his forearm. However, he didn’t pull away entirely. He simply slipped his fingers beneath the band on either side and began to nudge the fabric down.

Without breaking the kiss, you shimmied out of the fabric - no longer caring about being entirely exposed, only caring about having him closer. In the midst of the kiss, Eddie shifted, arm reaching out blindly and swiping at his nightstand. He caught a few stray items, knocked them from the table with a clatter, and you laughed as you broke the kiss.

“What’re you looking for, Eds?”

With a bit of space between you, he eagerly pulled away just enough to tug his own shirt off - up, over his head, joining the fabric on the floor - before shoving his shorts down his thighs. He wasn’t wearing any boxers and you felt hesitant to glance down, despite the permission he gave you. No matter how comfortable he made you, some things still felt like too much for the first time, especially when you’d been half-certain you would lose your virginity in some dark room and now you could see Eddie all too well.

“Condom,” he answered, grinning when you flustered. “Don’t suppose you have one in your bag, sweetheart?”

“Can’t say I do. Wasn’t exactly expecting… this.” In fact, it was the last thing you’d been expecting from your visit to Eddie’s. However, you weren’t going to complain.

“Good unexpected?” He turned his full attention to the nightstand, then, shuffling through drawers and you laughed as you hummed your agreement.

“Totally.”

A metallic jingle caught your attention and as Eddie shuffled through the items in the nightstand in search of a condom, you searched for the source of the sound. A pair of silver hoops, hanging on a hook near the bed, caught your eye and you inhaled a shaking breath.

“…are those handcuffs?”

Eddie laughed, the noise quickly covered with a triumphant hum as he found the foil packet, before his full attention returned to you. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, warm and bright, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about those right now, sweetheart,” he urged. “Eyes on me, yeah?"

“Can I worry about them later?” The question was teasing, tinged with only a touch of nerves as Eddie settled between your spread thighs and allowed one large hand to softly grip the plush flesh.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already thinking about next time,” he teased with a grin. “I’m creating a monster.”

“Your monster.”

That brilliant smile remained, bright and wide, as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. “My monster,” he agreed, words mumbled against your lips. He kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you boneless beneath him, before he breathed a gentle reminder. Those soft eyes met yours as he said, “We don’t have to do this. If you’ve changed your mind, if you wanna wait, that’s okay.”

“I want this. No one I’d rather do this with.”

Eddie shifted closer, then, rested more of his weight atop you and shifted so that the tip of his cock bumped your aching clit. When you inhaled sharply, fingers pressing harshly into his shoulders, Eddie shifted his hips and notched the head of his cock at your entrance. And with a final nod of your head, he pressed forward.

The immediate experience was almost expected - your friends told you that it would hurt, that the first time wasn’t much fun. Only, it wasn’t so much pain as it was discomfort. There was no blinding pain, no tears, just an odd sensation that made you squirm. There was a sharp pinch, a sensation you’d never felt before, but it was bearable.

And you told Eddie as much when he lifted a hand to your cheek and asked, “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” you assured him, still a touch breathless as he pressed closer. “Doesn’t feel good yet but it doesn’t hurt.”

Eddie leaned in, pressed a kiss to your cheek - to your nose, to your jaw, to your forehead - before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “It’ll feel good in a minute, when you get used to it.”

As difficult as it seemed, you believed him. You knew that he was right, and that he would do his best to make sure you were comfortable, so you simply tangled your fingers in his hair and buried your face in the crook of his neck to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses against the heated skin.

After a moment, Eddie was fully sheathed inside, body pressed to yours as he waited for you to give him the okay to move. As you adjusted, the kiss grew more heated and his hands wandered, returning to your core as his thumb found your aching clit.

When you jolted, clenched around him, Eddie broke the kiss. “Fuck me,” he laughed, tipping his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “Promise I’m not always ready to blow this quick. You’re just so fucking tight.”

“Flattery,” you teased, breathless as you tugged playfully at his hair. “’S’okay. You can move.”

With your permission, Eddie began to experimentally shift his hips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out only an inch or two, before he began to move in earnest.

The pace was slow, easy, but with every shift of his hips, the better it got. The discomfort began to fade, giving way to a fullness that was more pleasant than you expected. And with his thumb brushing your clit, gathering the slick, you felt yourself enjoying it more and more.

“You know,” he hummed, lips brushing your skin as he continued shifting his hips almost experimentally, “it’s kinda hot, how much you trust me. ’S’like you’re in love with me or something.”

“Unfortunately, I am.” It was so soft, so fond, that Eddie couldn’t seem to find a teasing reply. The words were accompanied by a sticky warmth in your chest, so glad to have your feelings out in the open and returned.

The way Eddie treated you made the warmth that much more pleasant. He made your enjoyment a priority, eyes on your face as he watched for any signs of discomfort. Even as his pace grew faster, hips snapping into yours - driving deeper, pulling out farther - now that you’d adjusted, he still kept his full attention on you.

And when you felt yourself beginning to fall over the edge for the second time, he hummed in encouragement. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, only just beginning to show how affected he was, voice wavering and breath a little labored. “Come for me. Sound so pretty when you do.”

After a few more snaps of his hips, you fell over the edge and Eddie was quick to follow with a low curse.

The high was unlike any you’d ever felt. It flooded your veins with fire, scorched you from within, and you swore you saw stars as you rode out your high. Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck to catch his breath and, after a moment of desperately attempting to catch your own, you carded your fingers through his disheveled curls. He remained atop you - weight not quite fully pressed into you but enough for you to feel - for a few long moments before pulling out and tying off the condom. He stood, disappeared into the bathroom to toss it into the trash, before he returned and fell back into bed beside you.

“So,” he hummed, bouncing onto the mattress with a laugh and tugging you into his side. “First time. Not some frat guy in the backseat of some fancy car, or in some shitty dorm room but, not bad?”

“No,” you agreed, tipping your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. “Not bad. Not some frat guy but I think this was better.”

“You think?” Eddie scoffed with faux outrage. “Okay, well, clearly we’re gonna have to do this again and again and again until you know that this was better.”

Though the night began with an insecurity, in that wonderful way of his, Eddie managed to turn it into a beautiful moment. And though you were starting college in the fall, you knew that you wouldn’t be starting a virgin or searching for some frat boy to help you gain the experiences your friends so often spoke of. You would be starting college with a boyfriend and the knowledge that your love was requited. And you loved the idea that Eddie would be with you for every next step.

After all, what are boyfriends for?

__________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Slowly but surely going through the WIPs I have had for months. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff, @valthevalkyrie-main, @crying-caro, @inglourious-imagines

#stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #v's fics

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stars-obsession-pit · 8 months ago

Text

“Murder” Mystery

A crash. A yell. In just a moment, a young man’s heartbeat goes silent.

The pencil in Clark Kent’s fingers snapped. He was used to overhearing unpleasant things. He’d been living with super hearing for his whole life, and usually he could step in to help.

But that didn’t make situations that he couldn’t any less crushing.

Being Clark Kent and not Superman was important. It let him help people in ways he couldn’t with just physical might. But in moments like these, a guilty part of him wondered if he could have saved more lives if he’d just been there, been ready.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. All he can do now is make sure the killer is stopped and brought to justice before they can cause any more harm.

Danny Fenton—currently Danny Phantom—sighed deeply as he looked at the debris strewn across the floor of the hotel room.

He’d been looking forward to this trip. A break from Amity’s own ghost troubles, even if it was to attend an Ecto-Science convention. Finally he’d have the time to relax for once without any ghosts interrupting. Plus, Metropolis had its own guardian to take care of its problems.

But nooo, he had to get caught up in an attack here too.

Ugh.

#misunderstandings #Clark is trying to solve the mystery of Danny’s ‘murder’ but actually it was just Danny transforming #dp x dc #DPxDC #dc x dp #DCxDP #danny phantom x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc prompt #dc x dp prompt #dcxdp prompt #dp x dc fanfic prompt #dc x dp fanfic prompt #danny phantom x dc crossover prompt

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rueclfer · 6 months ago

Text

shoujo touya save meeee pleaseee shoujo touya save me from the trenchessss

pull me through // touya todoroki

You awkwardly stood a few steps behind Touya as he felt around under the doormat for the spare key to his home. You two got along quite well for a couple of students who were on the opposite sides of the rankings, but never close enough to visit each other's home like this.

You were student council president, and Touya got suspended for setting the toilet on fire last year. That is how far you two were.

"Alright, come on in." He holds the door open for you to walk in before him.

At first glance, it seemed close to extravagant, but the closer you looked, it felt cozier by the second from the amount of framed photos, artwork, and trinkets displayed on every wall and counter.

In the living room, his younger siblings were all lined up like ducks as if they were awaiting for your arrival.

"Hi Fuyumi." You threw a wave at her.

"Hi Y/N!" She beams back.

You two worked on the student council together, so you were already close with her despite being a year older.

"Wait, this is Y/N?" The middle child with all white hair exclaims.

Fuyumi quickly swats her brother's arm, shushing him.

"Oooohh. Y/N, I know you!" The littlest one states, stepping up to you with an All Might figurine in hand.

"Oh do you?" You cock an eyebrow at Touya as he takes your jacket to put up by the door and your school bag off of your shoulder. You bent down to his level. "Your brother talks about me often?"

"No I don't." He quips before he could answer for himself, shooting a glare in their direction. "I don't know what either of them are talking about."

"Meet my ball and chains." He huffs with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Shouto, Natsuo, and you already know Fuyumi from your nerd thing."

"Can I play with them?" Shouto asks, moving over to Touya to tug on his pant leg.

"No you can't, turd. We have to work on a project so none of you bother us. Kay?" He motions you to follow him upstairs, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

You quickly follow behind him. "But maybe after!" You call out from midway up the stairs, giving them a final wave.

Upon entering his room, he sets your bag on his desk, letting you take the seat while he settles on his bed right next to you, whipping his laptop open.

Despite being somewhat of a delinquent, you knew that Touya was smart and had capabilities to be top of the class if he really cared to. You had no worries about this project, but the circumstance of being alone in his bedroom on the other hand, almost made you nervous,

"Your siblings seem to like me." You broke the tense silence as you two logged onto your presentation. "You definitely talk about me, huh?"

"It's probably Fuy. She's a big fan of yours." He glances over at you. "She talks about you way too much around here."

"You got a problem with that?"

"What, like I don't get enough of you at school?" He chuckles, biting on the end of his pen. "Don't I, Prez?"

"Lucky you, then. Not many people have that kind of access to me. I'm pretty high in demand, if you ask me." You tease back, meeting his eye for a moment before returning your attention back on your screen.

He pushes his laptop out and leans back in his bed, propping his upper half up on his elbow to face you with his pen still hanging out of his mouth.

"I wonder how those people feel about you spending all that time with such a loser like me? Not scared to tarnish that golden reputation of yours?"

"You give yourself too much credit." You laugh. "You've been such a good boy lately, I don't think anyone really bats an eye." You say sweetly, swiveling your chair to fully face him.

He chuckles to himself and diverts his eyes away from yours as a rush of blood floods to his cheek.

"Anyways..." He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears slightly flush into red. "Back to this bullshit."

You two talk back and forth about the project for a while, slipping into silence every now and then as you work on your respective slides.

In your peripheral, you noticed that every so often, he would glance up at you from his screen like clockwork. It makes you a bit too self aware of yourself, forcing you to keep your posture straight, not to bounce your leg too much, and to keep your fidgeting at bay.

"You're grinding your teeth." He mutters, breaking the silence. "I can hear it, like sandpaper."

"It's just a focus thing." You reply, biting the inside of your cheeks to combat the habit.

"I can't stop looking at them in class.." You hear from outside of the door, paired with the boys' giggling. "...They're all I can think about, I feel so stupid."

You and Touya both stop shoot each other a confused glance, not quite sure what Natsuo and Shouto were going on about in the hallway.

"What are they doing?" You lean in and whisper.

"I don't fucking know?" He shrugs. "Maybe reading one of Fuy's books?"

"How cute." You chuckle, returning your attention to the project.

"Prez would never want a guy like me. I want to do better, but I'm fucking hopeless." The boys start, their footsteps running up and down the hallway this time.

"Natsuo! That's a bad word, you can't say that!" Shouto cries.

Your eyes widened and glanced over at Touya, whose face had now drained of color, jaw slightly gaped open.

He slams his laptop shut and frantically feels around under his pillow and covers, as if he had misplaced something.

"What're you looking for?" You asked, watching him rummage through his school bag after going through his bed.

"I'm going to fucking kill them." He mutters, throwing his bag on the floor. "I'm actually going to kill them."

He walks over to swing his bedroom door open, revealing the two boys leaning against the wall with a book in hand, flipping through the pages.

"Where the fuck did you two get that!?"

The two younger boys scream and scurry down the hall with Touya right on their tail. You follow them out into the hallway, watching them run a muck around the house.

Natsuo and Shouto eventually circle their way back to Touya's room, shoving themselves right behind you a second before Touya is able to get to them.

"Guys?" You look down at Shouto clutching your leg and Natsuo breathing hard, peering over your shoulder. "What did you two do?" You put a hand down on the top of Shouto's head, tapping it to get his attention up at you.

"Natsuo did it!" He cries, burying his face into your side. "I didn't do anything." He muffled into your shirt.

"You're the one who gave me his diary, you liar!" Natsuo reaches over and flicks Shouto's head. "Shouto did it!"

"What the hell is going on?" Fuyumi comes out of her room.

"These fuckers went through my things." Touya huffs, face now red. "Y/N. Move over please." He inches closer.

"No! Y/N please!" Natsuo cries behind you, clutching on you tighter.

"Whoooaa. Okay, okay let's relax everyone." You nervously chuckle.

"You, take a step back." You put a finger on Touya's chest, lightly pressing him to take a couple steps back into the hallways.

You noticed Touya clenching onto a journal so tight that his knuckles were white, jaw tense seething with anger.

"You two, go with your sister." You pried the two kids from your side, ushering them towards Fuyumi, in which she properly slapped the back of their heads the moment they got to her.

"Idiots. What did I tell you guys? Get in." She huffs before closing the door behind them.

"Don't think you're safe! Your ass is grass once Y/N leaves." He calls out before the door clicks shut.

"You, stop it. Come inside." You pull him in by the elbow.

"Jesus fucking christ." He groans into his hands, throwing the journal on his bed. "You didn't hear any of that, alright? None of that happened."

"Yup. You got it." You silently chuckle to yourself. "Absolutely nothing."

You watch him shove the journal deep into his school bag before throwing it back on the ground and flopping down in his bed, face buried in his pillow.

"FUCK!" He screams into his pillow, tightly gripping the sides of it.

"Okay let's just finish this shit and get it over with." He huffs, turning on his back and leaning up against the headboard, dragging his laptop back up to his lap.

"Oh so you really didn't wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" He shoots you a threatening glance.

You ignored the hostile look, anyways. "You have a crush on me." You bite your bottom lip to hide a side. "That's what that was, right?"

"Who said all that shit was about you, huh?"

"You got another 'Prez' in your life?" You cock an eyebrow.

He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath of air.

"Let's not do this right now."

"That's fine." You turn your attention back to your laptop. "I'm just saying, though, you don't have to do 'better' for me to like you. I already do."

Another beat of silence passes.

"Cool. Cool." He squeaks out. "Um. Can you double check my slides for me?" He coughs.

You looked at him in your peripheral to see him covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, hiding the impending blush creeping up his face as he kept his eyes glued to his screen.

"Sure." You smiled. "Only if you double check mine."

bonus scene hehe:

over the next week of school, touya had been actively avoiding you- which you expected. it wasn't until one late school day where you had to stay behind for your council meeting when you caught him waiting by your cubby.

"touya." you greeted, holding out your bag for him to take while you started switching your shoes out. "what are you still doing here?"

"got a request to deliver to you, prez." he responds with a smirk, leaning up against the cubbies with your bag under his arm.

"oh yeah? well unfortunate for you, but i'm off the clock. you should file it in the student council box."

"it's a special request that can only be delivered in person." he rolls his eyes. "also i'm walking you home, so you don't really have a choice."

you laugh, starting your way out of school. "okay, then. go for it."

"go out with me this weekend."

your breath hitches from surprise. you had to admit to yourself that you had been waiting for some sort of confession or at the very least a chat about the last time you had seen him, but for him to almost demand a date with you caught you off guard.

"really?" you snap your attention to him, face heating up.

"really."

"i'd love to." you smile. "you feel like talking about it now? or do i gotta go through your diary for that?"

"shut up. it's a journal- two very different things." he nudges you with his elbow. "fuyumi yelled at me after you left and told me that i was an emotionally constipated prick, so i guess that inspired me to get my shit together."

"sooo.." you motion for him to continue.

"sooo...i like you. i have for a while." he starts "and i got my marks up for this quarter. for you. well, technically for me, but i wanted you to see that i was trying."

your heart swelled at this simple act. "you didn't have to do that. i told you i like you regardless- even after you set the toilet on fire."

"we don't talk about that version of me last year." he laughs "and i wanted to. you made me want to do it for me."

you two continue to walk home chirping in conversation and light teases. you had always been drawn to him despite his bad habits and annoying mannerisms, but you knew he always had it in him to do good things and make better choices for himself. knowing that he did it because of his inspiration to be a good person for you only made you like him more.

#the urges to make them kiss ommgg #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #dabixreader #dabi x reader #dabi #mha touya #mha dabi

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sonotpattismith · 4 months ago

Note

BASED ON CAUSAL UGGH, your mind, is a wonder, please devastate us(please don’t(PLEASE DO)

-🏃‍♀️

casual. (satoru gojo x reader)

word count: 13.3k warnings: angst, smut, suguru being the goat, 18+ a/n: I didn't intend for this to get so long, but I just kept going :') Inspired by Casual by Chapell Roan, a song that has been haunting me for like two months lol. I can't wait to hear what you all think, and lmk if these longer fics are something you're into! ILY THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND MESSAGES AND SUPPORT- every comment and message means the world to me. 🫶🏻

“You’re not gonna fall in love with me, are ya’?”

In hindsight, it should have raised more red flags in your clouded mind. The tone of voice he held was playful though— as it always seemed to be. Laced with a deep baritone that bore witness to the two of you’s activities of the last few minutes, that question should have had you digging your heels right into the ground to brake yourself, but you only found yourself digging your heels further into his lower back. Gasping softly against his shoulder, all you could do was shake your head at what should have been a first and final warning. How could you deny him when his fingers were reaching parts of you you were positive he alone had just discovered for the first time? How could you ever deny Satoru Gojo?

No, god no, anyone but Satoru Gojo.

You silently wallowed in mental anguish as your professor announced your semester partner, just weeks prior to the incident. Glancing around despairingly, you didn’t even see the man in question in any of the cramped seats of the lecture hall. It sparked a small flicker of hope in you; maybe he transferred out of this course last minute but was still showing up in the roster— happens all the time, right? Sure enough though, in typical Gojo fashion as you’ve observed in the two or three other classes you’ve had with him, as well as what his stellar reputation has revealed, the white haired man burst through the doors of the lecture hall not even two seconds later.

Now, you weren’t one that allowed yourself room to be late often. You didn’t have the generational wealth tied to the Gojo name as insurance for your future— you had to work your ass off to scrape up enough for tuition every semester. Still, in the few times you had been running late, it was always mortifying; heads turning your way, the professor’s disapproving stare, and that awkward shuffling as you tried to find any open seat to hide in. Gojo didn’t seem to have an ounce of humility in his six-foot-something body though as he strides confidently into the room, smiling casually at the professor with a nod of his head as everyone turned to watch his theatrical entrance.

His charming personality and fluent family name, paired with the striking, wide cerulean eyes that were constantly hidden behind the dark tinted lenses of his round glasses— everything about Gojo was attention grabbing. You weren’t even sure he seeked it out, though something about his celebrity like waves to the people that called out fondly to him as he walked around campus told you he certainly didn’t mind it.

Even so, it wasn’t his borderline narcissistic behavior that put you off about this forced arrangement, but the fact that he was perpetually ten to fifteen minutes late. In every class you’ve had the pleasure of sharing with him, it’s seemingly been his golden rule. Typically, it wouldn’t be your problem. It wasn’t your grades or attendance that suffered, after all. Now though, if he didn’t care enough to leave wherever he was stumbling back from ten minutes earlier if it meant he’d make it to class on time for once— how much would he really care to contribute to a term project with you?

“What’d I miss?” You heard him mutter not so subtly at his friend, who always knew to save him a seat, as he flopped down beside her.

Sparing a sidelong glance in their direction to find the tired looking girl beside him, Shoko as you remembered from the roster call, nodding her chin toward you. Gojo looked up at you with a dumb expression on his face, and for a moment you caught a glimpse of those famous, sparkling eyes of his as his glasses slipped down his nose. You recalled hearing about his hypersensitivity to light that triggered his need for the constant eye protection.

Your friend, the utter gossip she was, somehow had this information armed and ready in her arsenal to throw at you when you’d backhandedly mentioned to her what an asshole he looked like, always wearing his sunglasses indoors. It made you grumble because, shit, now you looked like the asshole.

The memory slowly waned from your consciousness as he quickly pushed his frames back up his nose before lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically at you. A silent scoff left you at the fact that he seemed so overjoyed to hear about his new term partner, apparent in the shit-eating grin that seemed to take up his entire face. Offering a weak wave in return, you faced forward once again to listen to the rest of the instructions, a migraine already forming at the acceptance that you’d definitely be on your own this semester.

“Gojo, can you please quiet down?” You hushed him for the fourth time that afternoon in the middle of what was supposed to be the quiet, campus library.

He wouldn’t for the life of him sit still; shifting back and forth from the seat to the right of you to the one across from you, tapping his pen obnoxiously on his laptop, sighing dramatically as he crossed and uncrossed his freakishly long legs. It was driving you, as well as the other students in the vicinity, insane. “You’re acting like you’re writing a dissertation— we’re just researching topics.”

Another one of his Oscar-worthy, theatrical sighs slipped past his lips and dissipated into a frustrated groan. Slamming his laptop shut, he looked up at you like a child who was told to get into the shower after he’d just got done perfectly muddying himself up. You stared back blankly at him.

You had never had the chance to observe him so closely. Now that you were though, despite the deep seeds of irritation he was rooting inside of you, you could understand why everyone on campus was so smitten by him. His wispy, white hair splayed messily across his forehead and partly into his concealed eyes, appearing just rustled enough to tell you he didn’t style it, but fluffy enough to tell you he definitely took the time to at least attack it haphazardly with a blow dryer. He always dressed nicely though— nicer than any of the other boys you saw hanging around campus anyway. Still, his style was laidback, casual, cool. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself, recognizing that you were beginning to sound like your best friend, who insisted Gojo was the crème de la crème of eligible bachelors.

“Do you have ants in your fucking pants or something? What is your—”

“All the tuition these people charge, and they can’t afford some curtains?” He cut you off with an exasperated gasp and shoved his head into his hands.

You opened your mouth to tell him off once again for speaking so obnoxiously loud in the library, but the scolding lecture caught in your throat upon seeing the way the sun was shining right in his face from the large windows. Watching his fingers crawl under his glasses to rub aggravatedly at his eyes, a pang of guilt hit your chest for not having realized the cause of his restlessness sooner.

“Oh, um…” Your voice trailed off as you looked around the library for a dimmer area, but it seemed every corner was shrouded in sunlight. Tapping your fingernails anxiously against your laptop, you weighed your options. You’d regret this later.

“Thank god!” Gojo exclaimed as he quickly moved through your small dorm, climbing up onto the bed to draw the curtains over the offending window. Your lips threatened to twitch up into an amused smile, but it stopped as you watched him flop back down way too comfortably on your twin bed and rub at his temples.

“Do you want something for headaches? Um… I should have something in here…” You rambled while rummaging through the small medicine bin you had in the cabinet of your kitchenette. “Here.”

Finally spotting the bottle of migraine relief, you popped it open and fished two pills out. One of your partner’s eyes popped open to find you standing before him with your hand outstretched in offering. He took in your apprehensive stance with a concealed smile; way you shifted from one foot to the other as he stared back at you, lips pursing unsuredly with eyes that wanted to be anywhere but his.

Cute.

Sitting up and leaning forward, Gojo dipped his head down to scoop up the pills into his mouth, plush lips running softly over your sensitive palms. Your eyes widened a bit at his clear lack of understanding of personal space or normal human interactional rules in general. A gasp threatened to spill from your lips when you felt his teeth graze your skin before he finally threw his head back to swallow the pills. He flashed you a dazzling smile.

“Thanks, pretty girl.”

You chose, for your own sanity, to ignore that pet name. Shaking your head, you wiped your hand on your sweater before moving to grab your laptop from your bag. Weighing your seat options, you almost opted to sit on your desk chair just so you’d have space from the overly-comfortable man on your bed. You sighed before sitting at the edge of the bed and cast a sidelong glance at the way he remained lounged back, propping his head on his hands so he could see your screen.

“Do you mind taking your shoes off if you’re going to lay in my bed?” You pleaded, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of whatever he may be tracking into your sheets.

He revealed an amused smile, but complied anyway, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge to kick his shoes off. Leaning back on his hands, he tilted his head at you. The innocent motion had your chest swirling with a gut feeling that maybe these people that followed him around all the time were onto something. Quickly turning your attention back to the pathetic list of topics you two had come up with thus far, you bit your bottom lip.

“Any more requests for me, princess?”

“Yeah, how about you actually help me pick a topic now instead of just sitting there?”

“Geez, lighten up a little. Been a while since someone dicked you down or what—”

A sharp slap across his cheek didn’t allow him to finish that sentence. His head swung to the side, glasses almost slipping off of his stunned face. You gasped quietly, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth guiltily. With bated breath, you watched as he brought a hand up to hold his red cheek, his white lashes fluttering as he blinked rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I—”

“Nah,” Gojo chuckled breathlessly (and a little awkwardly), moving to adjust the frames properly on his face. He flicked his hair from his eyes, looking at you with a sheepish grin. “I deserved that one. My friend is always telling me I needa’ tone it down, so…”

You sighed, mortified by your abrupt actions. Slumping your shoulders, you set your laptop aside as you buried your face into your hands. He was right, at least about your being so high strung (and about the dick part, but that was beside the point). There was always this impossible expectation that you set for yourself— you always had to outdo yourself— your very own, never ending competition. Still, with all the courses you were bending over backwards in to assure your grades stayed high enough to maintain your scholarship, as well as the ass-crack-of-dawn hours you crammed in at work before your classes so you could cover room and board, you didn’t feel like you had a chance to breathe.

“No, no,” You insisted, sparing a mortified glance at the stinging handprint left on his pale cheek. “I mean, yeah, you sounded like a total prick, but I still shouldn’t have hit you.”

“Ehh, who said I don’t like getting smacked around every once and a while?” He quipped teasingly before his smile faltered, and he leaned back just a hair and raised his hands in front of him. “That was a joke— please don’t hit me again.”

For the first time since being paired with this idiot, you actually laughed. It shook your shoulders, it lit up your face— you were a completely different person. Gojo smiled softly at this, nudging you with his shoulder. It was as if he could see the weight being lifted off of your shoulders, even if just for a second. Looking up from your lap, you noted how close he was to you, and how intensely his glittering eyes were boring into you, even behind his tinted frames. His brow quirked up upon seeing the oh-so-obvious signs that your thoughts had also drifted from the research topic you two were supposed to be picking.

“At the risk of getting slapped again— are we about to kiss right now?”

You flushed at his teasing tone, but leaned forward to meet him in the middle nonetheless. He grunted as your lips met his, and, with the newfound permission you’d granted him, Gojo took the reins from there. Grasping your cheek firmly in one hand, he allowed the other to roam down to your waist, where his eager fingers pulled you in closer to him. An embarrassing gasp slipped past your lips as you tumbled into his lap, but he drank it up, not allowing you any room to catch your breath.

“Ohhh…” He rasped desperately upon hearing the little noises you made for him. “I could take such good care of you, hmm?”

Your face and neck were impossibly red at his lewd words, but that heat was traveling right down south and rendering your basic comprehension skills utterly useless. Panting softly, you looked into his blown out, dazed eyes and challenging smirk. You weren’t making it out of this one unscathed.

How did you end up pressed against the wall of your dorm room, your haphazardly placed polaroid pictures falling unceremoniously to the floor with every writhe of your hips? Right— Satoru Gojo looked at you with those magical, cerulean eyes and promised he could definitely help you unwind. And unwinding you were, with your thighs thrown over his surprisingly sturdy shoulders as he kneeled below you and showed you that his mouth could do alot more than talk endless shit.

Your jaw fell slack as his fingers dug into your hips, pulling your core against his face like he’d never eat again. Had you not currently been floating through another astral realm at the moment, you would have been embarrassed at the sloppy, squelching noises emitting from both your sex and his expert tongue.

“Gojo!” You gasped, reaching down to pull at the shoulder of his shirt, desperate for anything to ground you.

He groaned, and you thought you heard him mumble something against you, but the sound of your blood coursing in your ears deafened you. He pinched your thigh before pulling away for a millisecond to look up at you. Lord, you could have fallen apart at the sight. His glasses were pushed up onto his head, his soft tufts of snowy hair caught within the frames and giving you full access to view his face— the one you had never noticed was so delicately beautiful.

The sight of his bare eyes was almost intimidating— no, scratch that— it was definitely intimidating. No man should ever look that pretty with your slick coating his face so grotesquely.

“Satoru.” He insisted, his wide-eyed gaze demanding attention. You gaped down at him, making his fingers squeeze the fat of your thighs harshly once again. “Say it.”

As he dove back in, your mouth trembled open to try his name on your lips, but you were cut off by his obnoxiously loud and peppy ringtone. Grunting in aggravation, he didn’t pull away from you as he aimlessly dug in his back pocket for his phone. Casting a sidelong glance at the screen as his tongue continued to ravish you, his brows furrowed.

“Sorry, pretty girl, one sec’.” And in an instant he was swiping to answer the call, pressing his phone to his ear and his thumb to your clit.

Your hand shot up to conceal the stranglehold gasp that ripped from you as he began drawing lazy circles against your bundle of nerves. Gojo hummed along to whoever was on the other line before chuckling in disbelief.

“Again? This kid—” He shook his head, but there was an amused grin on his face. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

Tossing his phone carelessly onto the carpeted floor, Satoru looked up at you determinedly. With a cock of his pretty head, he flashed you a charming smile.

“We’re gonna have to make this quick, pretty girl.”

If Satoru Gojo was anything, you were quickly learning, it was a man of his word, because not only three minutes later he had you tossing the glasses off his head and gripping at the roots of his hair until you were sure it’d come off in clumps between your trembling fingers. His hand reached up to shove his fingers into your mouth in a last ditch attempt to quiet your pitchy whines before you got a noise complaint, though you could swear in the midst of your haze you felt him laugh against you.

Relief came flooding over your system, working its way down each of your tense muscles and even washing away that ever present sting in the back of your head that always said there was something you should be worrying about. All you could worry about this second though was the way Satoru cleaned you eagerly with his majestic tongue, pressing longing kisses against your trembling thighs and hips as he slowly set you back down on the ground.

The ever surprising man before you pressed one last, lingering and bruising kiss to your lips before smoothing your hair down cheekily and shaking his glasses back down to his face. You could only watch breathlessly as he shoved his shoes back on and gathered his things. He wasn’t very subtle in the way he reached down to adjust his erection through his pants, but he was headed for the door nonetheless.

“Wait,” you stammered out, stumbling back into your panties that had been thrown off into the corner of the room. “W-What about you?”

His head tilted back to look at you amusedly. Upon catching another glimpse of your reddened face and blown out eyes, Satoru couldn’t help himself as he stepped back and gave you another kiss.

“Relax, I’ve got all semester to cash in, don’t I?” He quipped with a wink, fingers coming up to pinch your flushed cheek. His words sank into your subconscious, and you couldn’t tell if they excited or scared you. “Besides, you needed it more than I did.”

“What about our research topic?” You hopped toward the door to shout with your head poking outside.

He swiveled around to face you as he continued walking down the hall of your dorm.

“Damn, it’s gonna take a lot more to loosen you up, huh?” His teasing smirk only served to further fluster you, and he turned his back to you once again. “I’ll text you— relax!”

Little did Satoru Gojo know you didn’t think you could ever relax in his presence again. He was unlike the picture you had painted in your head of him. Sure, he was still loud, obnoxious, out of touch in certain things, but he also displayed a side that was understanding, perceptive— and generous.

You thought your best friend would combust when you urged her to come by your dorm to recount the events of the day. She wanted details— mind bogglingly specific details to compare against the mental image she’d created for the man and placed on the altar of her psyche. The reason you really wanted her over, was to get a second opinion on his abrupt departure following the best head you’d ever received in your life— not that you had received much by way of comparison.

She rolled her eyes at your attempt to find a negative here, reminding you how affluent his family was, and that he likely was always getting called back home for matters too rich for our understanding. It gnawed at you though, and you remained unconvinced as you trudged through your week.

Continuing to surprise you, Sataoru did text you that night. You figured he’d send an article he’d read over haphazardly before deciding it was good enough for you to make a final decision on and sending it your way. You received a document with an actual research proposal though— typed, formal, neat, and actually viable enough to commit an entire term project to. Relief flooded you at the prospect that maybe this semester wouldn’t be as miserable as you assumed it would be.

Still, he made no mention of what had transpired between you two that day. Not that you figured he would, but you still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that struck you. You were getting ahead of yourself. After all, he wasn’t the only attractive man with good tongue game, right? No need to go falling head over heels.

Your nerves leading up to your shared physics class the following week had you in shambles though. Would he pretend like nothing happened? Or worse, would he make it super obvious that something did happen? As the anxiety swirled in your mind, you cursed yourself for not using your time in university to become better versed in hookup culture, because god, you felt pathetic.

When Satoru strolled into class at the usual fifteen minutes past start time that he’d apparently set for himself, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, facing the professor with an intensity as if his lecture on quantum mechanics was the most riveting topic you’d yet to encounter. Just as usual though, he strolled right up to his seat beside Shoko. From your forced attention on your professor, you missed the way he regarded you with a sidelong glance, waiting for your acknowlegement, but none came.

Just as you thought you had escaped the interaction unscathed, bounding out of the classroom after collecting your things— fate revealed other plans for you. A heavy arm draped across your shoulders as you walked down the hallway, determined to get a strong coffee that could keep you up for the remainder of your two classes. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the scent of his subtle yet somehow still expensive smelling cologne was a dead giveaway.

“Weeeell?” Satoru drawled out, leaning his head down with a tilt and smiling mischevieously as you. You rose a brow at him, determined to keep your cool as you continued your trek into the campus cafe. He let out a disappointed puff at your resolve. “I didn’t hear back from you about the research proposal. Figured you’d be all over that shit.”

You finally tore your gaze away from the menu above you to peer at him.

“Yeah, it was really good actually, Gojo.” You offered the hesitant praise. Leaning forward, you gave your order to the awaiting barista before you.

“You sound shocked. Thought I’d disappoint?” He quipped. You blinked as he nonchalantly pulled a heavy looking, black card from his wallet and swiped it for your coffee. Crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, he smiled expectantly down at you. “And I thought I told you my name was Satoru.”

Your face flushed at the thought of his reminder, thinking of how he was right between your legs when he demanded the name from your lips.

“Right, well, Satoru,” You emphasized, grabbing your cappuccino from the barista with a kind smile. “Color me surprised— I thought you’d be a dumbass. And thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“Anything for my favorite, stuck up little term partner.” He gushed, pinching your cheek. You began walking toward the exit, and he followed after you. “Anyway, same time, same place?”

Almost choking on the sip of your coffee you’d taken, you stared up at him with wide eyes. God, he just couldn’t help himself, he thought with a knowing smile. It was always so easy to rile you up.

“To work on our first draft?” He finally put you out of your misery.

“Right,” You breathed, looking forward to make your way to your next class. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

Despite your nerves, the research session with Satoru had been going surprisingly well. Much to your relief, he sat criss crossed on the floor beside your bed, typing lazily at his keyboard with surprising resolve. As the minutes ticked on though, you could practically sense him growing more and more restless.

In the span of fifteen minutes, he had shifted from his criss cross position to flop lazily down onto his stomach, checked his phone six times, and was now pacing around your small room with his laptop clutched in one arm in front of him. You considered yourself fairly level headed, but shit— he was making you anxious now. Before you could reprimand his distracting behavior, he slammed his laptop shut with a huff.

Looking around your kitchenette, he tossed his laptop onto your bed (way too casually for a device that had to be worth two months of your room and board) and began rummaging through your cabinets.

“Satoru—” You grumbled with pink cheeks as he scrunched his face disapprovingly at your empty shelves.

“Got anything sweet in here?” He questioned, shoving his head into your fridge. “Besides you, of course.”

“No… but if you sit down and focus like you were twenty minutes ago, we could finish, and then you could go and eat your heart out.” You suggested with a mocking smile.

He blew a raspberry in your direction, crossing his arms over the open refrigerator door and looking at you despairingly.

“C’mon, it’ll help me focus.”

The sincerity in his frankly pathetic words was almost endearing, and you found yourself melting a bit at his soft pout. You sighed. Satoru smiled triumphantly as you moved to squat down and dig into your bottom drawer, pulling out a small bin of various candies.

“You owe me.” You laughed softly as he immediately snatched up the box of strawberry flavored pocky that had always been your favorite. He glanced up at you, the pink stick still hanging from his lips as he continued rummaging through your selection with determinedly furrowed brows. “You’re digging into my emergency PMS supply. So, I better see some Einstein level shit coming out of you after this.”

“Sure fire method— never failed me before. Try it.” In an instant, he was shoving the other end of his pocky stick toward your face, awaiting on the other side of it with a devilish glint in his striking eyes.

Your movements faltered for a moment, and you blinked back at him with a quickening heart. The startled expression on your face only made his lips curl up into a smirk around the sweet, pink stick. Hesitantly, you leaned forward and sunk your teeth into the other end of the pocky. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that told you you had fallen right into his trap. As he carefully inched forward, you could feel the cool breath he was slowly releasing from his nose fan out against your flushed face.

Satoru could still see it— the tenseness in your shoulders, the apprehension swirling in your mind, the weight on your chest— and he just craved to be any sort of release for you. Maybe it was your subtle, caring nature that you hid under all that bold mouthed bravado, the little pieces of it that creeped out through your wide eyes. He wanted to dig, find his way to the bottom of it, and let it out so he may see all the beautiful edges and intricacies of it.

Your hand twitched up beside you, but it seemed your anxious mind was working against whatever desires were hiding in the chasm of your mind, and you retracted. He was too fast for you though— too perceptive— and he quickly reached out to grab your hand and hold it mid-air, inviting you to finish whatever motion your subconscious had started. Your lashes fluttered up at him as you reached up to pull his glasses from his face, and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Satoru’s teeth snapped the candied stick between you two, spitting it out haphazardly and crashing against your lips to chase the lingering strawberry cream taste there instead. You hummed in surprise as he ripped the bin from your arms and set it uncoordinatedly on your bedside table before grabbing your face in his large hands.

Suddenly, you weren’t concerned about what it meant or what could possibly be going through his head, because he was hovering over you with such ease that he may have convinced you he was born to do just that. Satoru was whispering sweetly into your ear, flooding out all concerns that lay beyond your dorm room with saccharine promises of I’ll take care of you and that you just needed to relax for me.

And you did, so much so that you weren’t sure when you’d blinked and suddenly lay bare underneath of him, his fingers working into you in a frenzied haze all while his eyes held you captive. You could hear yourself crying out for him, the name he so desperately wanted to hear last time falling from your lips like a prayer onto his ears. Satoru smiled at you.

He smiled, and for a moment you found yourself dumbstruck by the thought that his mind had been just as consumed by you the past week, because none of the other fumbling college boys you’d opened your legs for had ever tended to you with such keen precision. Of all the beds you’d fallen into in the past, none had smiled at you so sweetly as though they wished to pour their soul into you as opposed to just their dick.

But maybe Satoru Gojo simply had that way about him. You pondered, as he rolled a condom onto his intimidating length and stared down at you as if thoroughly pleased with his work, that he protected those eyes because unlike you, he hadn’t the ability to hide his soul like you had grown so expert at. The thought raced down your chest, while he pushed into you with a soothing hand on your inner thigh, that his eyes told a similar story to all the girls that ended up sprawled vulnerably underneath him.

Still, as his hips finally met yours with a slack jaw, and his lips slowly twisted up into a satiated smile— as his forehead braced against yours with that knowing glint in his blown out eyes— as he murmured,

“You’re not gonna fall in love with me, are ya’?”

—you couldn’t help but feel as though you were the only one.

In your lust filled stupor, because Satoru was so carnal in the way he rolled his hips into you, the implications of his words failed to penetrate. The only thing on your mind was the manner in which his lips brushed against yours fervently with every merge of his body into yours, his pitched whines in the back of his throat, and how his hand grasped yours from where it twisted desperately into the sheets to bring it up to his hair, inviting you to pull on him instead to ground yourself.

So, you shook your head at his question and squeezed your thighs around his slim waist— anything if it meant he wouldn’t cease his firm grasp on your jaw as he pleaded for you to just say his name again for him. You sounded it out so beautifully and flush against his ear, after all.

It wasn’t until after his trembling climax, as his perspiring body slumped against you, the both of you squeezed into your twin sized bed with his head resting against your chest, that his words registered. His silken hair tickled your chin, and you reached out to brush it back gently, not missing the way his chest reverberated against yours with a contented hum at the sensation. Satoru was still inside you when you realized that you’d allowed your fantasies to drift too far.

Despite his question that told you you should have been packing all those thoughts up and tossing them out, like, yesterday, he stayed just as he was for some time, allowing you to card your fingers through his hair with contented, lulled eyes as he softened against your walls. For a moment, you thought he’d fallen asleep.

“Satoru?” You called faintly, needing to get out from underneath him before your aching desire to allow him such comfort against you pulled you any further into your delusions. He hummed in question but didn’t look up. You chewed on your bottom lip. “Do… do you wanna keep working on the draft?”

He was still for just a beat longer before pulling himself up on his elbows to look at you incredulously. How quickly you realized that having him against your chest was better than staring head on into those troublesome eyes. The man scoffed with a small smile.

“Was my stroke game that bad that you’re still thinking about that damn paper?”

His jokingly offended tone made you flush furiously, looking instead at the cream walls of your dorm. He huffed out a chuckle, carefully pulling out of you with a soft groan as he moved to squeeze into the spot beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so preoccupied in my life. What sign are you? Are you a Virgo? I bet you’re a Virgo.” He rambled as he propped his head up on his hand to look down at you inquisitively. His casual banter following the mind-blowing climaxes he’d just pulled from you threw you off. In the midst of your surprise, you realized he was actually expecting an answer.

“I don’t… even actually remember.” You mumbled as you racked your brain. In truth, though you always found it nice how the common ground conversation of zodiac signs seemed to bring people together in curious ways, you never kept up with it yourself. Always claiming you’d read more into it, you never gave yourself the chance to— ever preoccupied with other things.

“You don’t—” Satoru gaped down at you as if you’d just told him you killed his childhood pet. In an instant, he was reaching over you and hanging off the side of his bed to grab his phone from his discarded jeans. “How do you not know your own sign?”

“I-I don’t know, it’s not that big a—”

“When’s your birthday?” He insisted as he finally returned to his cramped spot beside you. Seemingly irritated by the lack of space, he crammed his arm under your head and crooked his elbow around your neck, typing at his phone that was now hovering over the both of you. When you didn’t answer, he glanced down at where you laid pressed up against his chest. “C‘mon, this birth chart isn’t gonna fill itself out.”

Truthfully, his casual banter only served to fluster you more, but you couldn’t help but be amused by his insistence on reading every single one of the alignments in your chart, humming along about how yeah, that sounds like you despite his only really knowing you for a few weeks. You told yourself you would snap out of it, but maybe it could be after you finished laughing along with every assumption he would pull out of his ass about you based solely on what he was reading on your chart.

Seriously, you told yourself as you two got up to get dressed. You’d get over it as soon as you got back from the lunch he insisted you two go get, whining incessantly about how starving he was and that he couldn’t possibly be expected to work under these conditions.

You’d get over it, you insisted as he scoffed at your attempt to hand him some cash to cover your portion of the bill.

You’d get over it, you thought as he absentmindedly drummed his fingers along your knee while he tried his hardest to focus his scattered attention on the draft.

You’d get over it, you pleaded with yourself when he stumbled into class the following week and, before climbing up to his seat beside his friend, set a small bag down on your desk.

You’d get over it, you were starting to doubt yourself as you peeked into the bag to find a jumbo box of strawberry pocky to replace the stash he’d depleted that day as you two worked together.

As the term dragged on, and you and Satoru fell into a subtle ebb and flow of exasperated banter that would drift into teasing coos that he knew what you needed. A cycle of bruising kisses and confusing intimacy that would only be further drilled in by the playful wit and glittering laugh that taunted you with the notion that, no— you couldn’t get over it.

“I’m so screwed.” You groaned despairingly as your friend tapped away at her laptop beside you in the library. It was a place you didn’t frequent as often since the last time you’d left it with Satoru.

“No, you’re just too much of a wimp,” She emphasized with a curt glare shot your way. A small smile fell onto her lips at the way you seemed to shrink into your chair. “To ask him what’s going on between you two.”

“Because he wants something casual!” You gasped out in exasperation, blushing when fellow students shot pointed glares in your direction. Leaning in closer to her, you lowered your voice into a hushed whisper. “Do you not remember the don’t fall in love with me debacle?”

“He did not say it like that.” She deadpanned before shutting her laptop to face you. “Besides, that was like six fucks and five dates ago.”

“They weren’t dates.” You emphasized, frustrated with the way that this had to be the third time you’d clarified it to her. “We were just—”

“Going out for lunch? Dinner?”

“Just lunch…” Despite your flushed cheeks, you nodded along. It didn’t really make a difference you supposed, but it did send your curiosity spiraling the way Satoru was always gone by three, throwing out casual excuses about needing to be somewhere.

“That he always pays for?”

“Well—”

“Just like all the coffees and sweets he brings you before he fucks you stupid in that tiny ass dorm of yours everytime he sees you?”

“Will you stop being so gross?” You begged with a violent whisper, gathering your things as she got up to leave. Your head sunk down into your chest with the hope that your hair would cover your burning cheeks as you followed her out the building.

“You can be as uptight as you want about it, but the dude likes you.” She defended with raised hands.

It was starting to become a repetitive conversation, one that never ended well for your endless fantasies that maybe Satoru saw you as something more than just a friend he occasionally screwed. Maybe it was best that you stopped asking her, because you got the feeling she was trying to live vicariously through you to fulfill that aching curiosity she had about whether all the rumors about him were true.

As she continued to drone on about how you needed to tell him to shit or get off the pot and that he can’t have his cake and eat it too, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. That pathetic little spark of excitement lit up in your stomach upon checking the screen.

Satoru: Can you please please please send me a picture of you?

Your brows furrowed, cheeks flushing at the thought of what kind of picture he could possibly want from you. He was so good at leaving you grasping for straws, going days without hearing from him just to receive some outlandish message or a demand to meet him somewhere for lunch because how am I supposed to eat by myself and Suguru is still in class and says I’m too clingy. It should’ve been an Olympic sport— the way he knew just how much attention to give you to keep your mind reeling with possibilities.

“Oh my god, opps alert.” Your friend suddenly announced, and you quickly pulled your phone to your chest, thinking she was referring to the message you had now been stupidly staring at for way too long. Your suspicions were proven wrong when you heard an overly-enthusiastic call of your name, and you looked up to find the man himself jogging toward you with a wide grin and eager wave.

“Did you get my text? You ignoring me?” Satoru whined before offering an abrupt greeting to your friend, who was holding back a knowing smile behind her phone that she busied herself with.

“You texted me two minutes ago, Satoru.” Your exasperated tone was only shrugged off with a subtle pfft as he whipped his phone out and threw an arm over your shoulder.

“Smile!” Faster than you could keep up with, he leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You heard the distinct click of his phone camera shuttering a few times before he pulled away from you with an accomplished smile.

“What—”

“My mom keeps sending me articles about how to come out to your parents.” Satoru explained nonchalantly as his thumbs fluttered across his screen. You let out a cough of surprise when your spit seemed to lodge traitorously in the back of your throat. Looking up with a sigh, he rolled his head around to glance at your friend exasperatedly. “She gave Suguru and I pride pins last time we went by for dinner. I mean, we thought it was funny at first, but it’s getting a little awkward—”

“Satoru, what does this have to do with me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his rambling, swatting at your friend discreetly as she pointed to the aforementioned pride pin that was attached to his bag with a bewildered expression. Moving to walk between you two, he rolled his eyes dramatically as if it was your fault that you couldn’t keep up with his tangential speech pattern.

“If she thinks you’re my girlfriend, she’ll stop with all the ‘we love you no matter what, Toru’ speeches every time I see her— god, keep up.”

Behind his back, you shot your friend a wide eyed expression that she was already reciprocating, but her’s bore an excited smirk as she gave you a thumbs up.

“Hey, Gojo, you free Saturday?” Her abrupt question confused you, but you slowly caught on to what was going on on Saturday that would require his attention. You desperately shook your head at her.

“I can be persuaded to be free on Saturday.”

“Aw, well, I’m throwing a little birthday party for someone here on Saturday, and you should—”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure Satoru has—”

“Birthday party?” He shouted dramatically, whipping his head around to look down at you in offense. “You weren’t gonna invite me to your birthday party?”

“You really don’t have to—” For what seemed like the millionth time, you were interrupted. Maybe it was for the best though, because you could feel your face heating up with sheer embarrassment as you stammered out any excuse possible.

“Well now I’m going just to spite you.” Satoru quipped with finality before turning to your friend who looked entirely too pleased with herself. With his attention away from you, you took the opportunity to throw venom dripped daggers from your eyes right into her. “Can I bring a friend?”

“We could squeeze him in.” She agreed, already knowing, like everyone else on campus, he was referring to the tall, long-haired man that always seemed to be attached to Satoru’s hip at all times possible. It was no wonder his mom was beginning to ask questions, given their relationship used to be the speculation of countless rumors around school as well.

You had met Suguru in passing a few times when catching up with your partner between classes, but you didn’t know him too well. Despite your curiosity about the dynamic he held with his tight-knit friends, you were a little grateful you’d never hung out with both of them. That level of attractiveness could only be handled one at a time as far as you were concerned. Those two were increasingly intimidating when side by side. Even worse, they seemed to feed right off of each other’s energy.

“Then I’ll see you when you’re a year older, pretty girl.”

You could have skinned your dear friend alive in the days leading up to your birthday party. As each day passed, the knot in your stomach grew larger and twisted more erratically than it had previously. It’s not like you were uncomfortable around Satoru. In fact, you had grown quite familiar and warmed to his overbearing, hyperactive, and clingy nature over the past two months. The thought of you asking him to come to your birthday party made you feel like you were acting like a clingy girlfriend. The notion made you want to hurl, even if you weren’t the one that asked.

Still, the time grew closer and closer, and you were now trying not to watch the door as you laughed over the booming music blasting through whoever’s dorm room it was that your friend deemed was big enough to host in. You must have gone into the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror at least three times, and you had only been there for an hour. Sure enough, as you nodded to yourself and turned the light off for the fourth time, your smokey makeup was still perfectly intact, and your boobs weren’t popping embarrassingly out of the starry, navy dress you’d stolen from your friend’s closet.

As you made your way down the hall and into the crowded room, you couldn’t help but wonder who the fuck half these people were. You assumed most of the strangers were plus ones of the plus ones of the people you actually knew and invited there, but, then again, it wasn’t you who had planned it, so it was out of your hands. There were obnoxious whooping calls that grew closer and closer as you emerged, and you spotted the unmistakable yin and yang head’s of hair that towered over the mass of people before you.

A wave of nausea and uncertainty crashed over you, and you turned on your heel to hide in the bathroom, but Satoru was, once again, too fast for the likes of you.

“Birthday girl!” He shouted so loudly, he could be heard clearly over the music that practically vibrated the walls. Slowly turning back around in defeat, you watched as he easily pushed through shoulder after shoulder to reach you with a dumb smile. He surprised you when he pulled you up into a bone crushing hug, your legs dangling helplessly in the air for a moment before he set you down. His shielded eyes regarded you with a smirk, and he whistled lowly. “Old age suits you.”

You were grateful that the LED strip lights were the only things lighting the room, making your flush less noticeable as you smacked his chest with pursed lips.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” You stood on your tiptoes to shout into his ear. Your small, fond smile gave you away though.

“Then how would I have given you your birthday gift on your birthday if I didn’t come to your birthday party, huh?” As he rambled nonsensically, his hand reached into his pocket to fish out a small, black box and held it up to you.

“Satoru,” You stammered at the thought that he had gone out of his way to buy you a gift, and, from the looks of it, jewelry nonetheless. Once again, a war was raging in your mind against the rational part of your mind that told you that this man wanted nothing serious with you, and the softer, more hopeful part that said hookups don’t buy each other jewelry. “You- you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You kidding me?” He murmured, a bit softer than his previous tone as he opened the small box and carefully pulled the gold chain out. Your lips parted at the sight of the delicate charm hanging on the end of it. Noting the curiosity on your face as you twirled the symbol between your fingers, Satoru smiled. “It’s the constellation for your zodiac sign! So you don’t forget again.”

He stepped behind you to place the cool chain around your neck, but your eyes were stuck on the space he was just occupying. You wondered with bated breath if he could feel the racing of your pulse against his fingers as he ran his hands gently down your neck to scoop your hair over the chain after he’d secured the clasp. Your lashes fluttered as you looked up to meet the gaze of your friend who was not too far away, seemingly showing Suguru where the drinks were while watching the entire scene pan out. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to suppress her unbridled excitement for you before she turned to continue speaking with the tall man beside her.

She had given you somewhat of a pep talk as you two got ready together before the party, telling you you had to have Satoru clarify things before you let yourself go any further into this situation. As you anxiously applied your makeup, you thought the likelihood of such a confrontation ending well for you was slim to none. Now though, as Satoru turned you to face him and gazed so sweetly down at the pendant splayed on your chest— a reminder that he remembered even the smallest moments you had assumed were mundane to him— you began to think that maybe looking for more wasn’t such a far fetched idea after all.

“Thank you, Satoru. Really.” You smiled genuinely up at him, toying with the charm between your fingers. He tutted nonchalantly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “You’re… a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be, y’know?”

“Shuuucks, better quit sweet talkin’ me.” He teasingly gushed, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear. “Gonna make me wanna give you your second gift early.”

A rushed heat quickly flooded down your core. His fingers traced down your arm with a feather-light touch before lacing together with your own. The warmth of his cheek brushed against yours as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. Satoru was taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way your bottom lip tucked timidly between your teeth, and he let out a quiet groan.

“Just ten minutes— they won’t even know you’re gone.” Satoru insisted with a wavering voice as he began tugging you toward the bathroom.

The shame crept up in you, and you knew you should have stopped him— made sure for the sake of your own heart that this wasn’t all you’d ever be before you allowed him to eagerly slam the bathroom door behind you. That all-encompassing question haunted your hazed thoughts while Satoru chased desperate kisses down your neck, dragging his warm tongue over your collarbone and biting down carnally on the area where the charm he’d graced you with met your flesh. He sucked the pendant between his teeth, mumbling indiscernibly about how pretty my charm looks around your neck.

Your trembling fingers raced through the buttons of his shirt, pushing it open to explore the expanse of his chest as he tugged the hem of your dress up past your hips and hoisted you onto the sink. Despite the way your heart yearned so desperately for answers— for safety and solace from the push and pull you had subjected it to for two months— you could only choke out a gasp as he pulled your panties to the side. The feeling of your dripping heat against his greedy fingers had his body lurching forward, nearly sending you crashing into the mirror behind you as a breathless moan ripped from his chest.

So, no— you didn’t ask Satoru if your helpless ideas of real dates and titles and proud announces were lone— only haunting you, because as he curled his fingers into you and panted into your ear that my girl looks so beautiful like this, it was enough for your fizzling, mushed brain. So, you disregarded the fear in the back of your mind and worked to unbutton his jeans.

The ardent pep talk your friend had given you came from a place of love and concern, as even she knew you weren’t built for this kind of relationship. You worried too much, became preoccupied with the little things, your heart, while resilient your whole life as you worked your way to where you were now, was too fragile to allow Satoru Gojo to free reign to swing it open without the promise of ever staying. But you wanted him to stay, so desperately, you wanted those incandescent eyes to remain locked on you so keenly. You didn’t have the right words to plead with him, the only weapons in your comparably pathetic and timid arsenal were the heat between your legs and the hand you worked against the leaking swell of his cock in tandem with his palm’s wet smacks onto your center as he continued bullying your insides.

As he leaned his head onto your shoulder and rutted into your delicate hand, his string of cursed moans and whined praises made you forget that Satoru didn’t love you too.

“You’re so good to me, pretty girl— my perfect girl.” When he said things like that though, so sweetly with faux sincerity while coming undone all over your trembling thighs, you began to think that maybe he did.

You held onto that lighthearted, false sense of hope as he followed you out of the bathroom and stayed by your side that night. The bright smile on your glowing cheeks would have had anyone assuming you’d just met the love of your life, but the man trailing behind you as you took the shots that were thrust your way and refused any that were offered to him. He was entirely sober as he watched you with a wide, glittering smile. He hadn’t had a drop of liquor when he stood proudly beside you with that same smile as you blew the candles out on your heart-shaped cake, blissfully unaware of the fact that you wished for him with that winding breath, despite your delusional mind and heart that told you he was already yours.

“Gojo, c’mon, get in for a picture with your girlfriend!” Someone called out as the flame on the final candle was stamped out.

“Huh? Oh, no— we’re just friends!” Satoru’s playful tone rang out over the chatter of the crowd around you.

The smile on your face slowly faded, but the flashes of the camera still permeated the air as you felt him lean against you to smile for a picture nonetheless, unfazed by his screeching words that made the pendant around your neck seem suffocatingly heavy. You blinked down at the cake in front of you, watching yourself from the outside, slicing into the delicately crafted heart to begin mindlessly passing out to people. You didn’t notice that your hands were trembling, or the way your face seemed to burn with unshed tears until your friend’s fingers wrapped around your wrist gently.

“Come with me, I have to give you your gift.” Your friend lied with a bold face, concern swimming in her kind eyes as she regarded your shell-shocked demeanor. In truth, she wanted to grab the plastic knife from your hands and ram it into the chest of the man standing so obliviously beside you, laughing carelessly along with people surrounding you. You could only nod. Satoru’s hand slipped from your back as she dragged you away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She muttered endlessly as a stream of stinging tears fell down your face as soon as the bathroom door shut. Her arms wrapped around your shoulders, but you were pushing against her, trying so desperately to pull yourself together. How could you be so pathetic? “I should have never said anything. I just thought he—”

“I know, so did I.” You whispered, somehow afraid he’d hear you from the bathroom over the blaring music and drunken crowd. With trembling fingers, you wiped furiously at the tears under your eyes. “God— he told me. He told me. I’m such a fucking idiot—”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Your friend spat with verocity. In a furious haze, she began wiping the smeared mascara from under your eyes, muttering unintelligably under her breath before moving to rustle up your hair. “Listen to me. You are going to go back out there, and you are going to find the hottest man you can fucking find, and you are not going to breathe in that snow topped asshole’s direction for the rest of the night.”

“None of them are as hot as—”

“Well for tonight they fucking better be!” She exclaimed in exasperation as she smacked your ass encouragingly. “C’mon, I know it’s looking grave, but I think I saw at least like two or three solid sevens out there.”

Once you were sure the traces of your tears were undetectable, save for that wet glimmer in your irises that you couldn’t seem to shake, the two of you dispersed with determindely set faces. Maybe you were just pathetic, you began to think as you grazed over the selection of men before you, but none of them seemed to come close to—

“There you are!” Satoru bounded over to you, a slice of cake clutched in his hands. He held it out to you with a smile that indicated he had no idea the damage he’d just dealt. “I saved you a slice. It’s bad luck not to have a piece of cake on your birthday, you know.”

An angel in all senses of the word graced you then, because Lord knows you were about to give in once again to his casual smile and glittering eyes. Your friend took the paper plate from his hands, dropping it carelessly on the side table as she wrapped her arm around his elbow to pull him away.

“Gojo, come here. You have got to meet this dude, he looks just like you!” She excused with a fake smile, tugging harder as he looked back at you indecisively, but he eventually was dragged into the sea of people along with her.

Sighing in relief, you looked up at the popcorn ceiling with furrowed brows. You were determined now, if anything for the sake of your god-sent friend who had planned for you to have the perfect night, to at least attempt her fury-induced plan and find any viable man.

“You look like you need a drink, birthday girl.”

Your head instantly dropped back down, and you turned apprehensively to meet the gaze of the man before you. For a moment, you wondered if whatever higher being was out there was testing you, or maybe they were gracing you with possibly the most diabolical option you could ever dare to choose from in your bachelor line up. This would be too much, right?

“Geto.” You muttered in surprise, watching his near violet eyes regarding you curiously, a small and knowing smile gracing his calm features. He offered you a cup.

“Here, I mixed something up for you. Consider it a birthday gift. I was told at the last minute that this was a birthday party, so I didn’t bring you anything.”

You peered apprehensively into the plastic cup before glancing up at him with a raised brow. He tutted softly with a chuckle, bringing it up to take a swig himself before handing it back to you.

“I feel like I should be offended that you think I’d put something in your drink, but I suppose you can never be too careful.” Suguru shrugged, craning his neck around to look at the crowd of blubbering men you were surrounded by. With a playful smile, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I mean, look at half these circus monkeys.”

A genuine laugh finally found its way past your lips, and he smiled brightly at the sound. Nudging your shoulder, he nodded for you to follow him. You looked around for that familiar head of white hair, letting out a relieved sigh to see your friend still had him busy. The man she had introduced him to was quite possibly more of a yapper than Satoru was— and that was saying something.

She peered over at you subtly, having to control the drop of her jaw upon seeing who you had chosen from the line up. You shot her a concerned look as if to ask— is this really fucked up of me? But you knew it was. She only offered you a thumbs up and mischievous smile that said this is perfect. You saw Satoru follow her gaze, and you quickly averted your eyes to take a seat next to Geto on the couch he’d settled on. The white-haired man’s brows furrowed a bit as he watched you smile up at his friend, but he was quickly being pulled back into the conversation with this dude who would not shut the fuck up for the life of him.

Conversation with Suguru— as he insisted you call him— wasn’t nearly as forced as you had prepared yourself for. In fact, you had almost actually forgotten about the just friends debacle. It began to come back to you though, as he inched closer and closer to you as the night drew on, and you were reminded of what you had sat down with him for. So, despite the unease growing in the pit of your stomach, you didn’t lean back when he draped his arm on the cusion behind you, leaning in to smile smoothly at you.

“You’re in that physics class with Satoru, aren’t you?” He asked with a conscious smirk, following your gaze as it flittered occasionally over to the man in question, who had been stealing cautious glances your way for the past hour, seemingly never getting the chance to go butt in as he so desperately wanted to.

Your mind seemed to fizzle at the mention of him, and you snapped your gaze back to Suguru abruptly.

“Um, yeah,” You murmured, glancing down at the now nearly empty cup in your hands. The alcohol was beginning to catch up to you. In fact, it had begun catching up to you almost thirty minutes ago, and you could feel your tongue beginning to slip with each word you tried to pronounce. “He’s… he’s my term partner.”

“That’s all he is, huh?” The man hummed, the loose bang hanging from his sensuous bun swaying as he dipped his head down, a daring glimmer in his violet eyes. Your brow querked at his comment. “I only mean it's a shame that Satoru can’t get his head out of his ass, is all, but that’s okay.”

Your breath hitched as his silky hair brushed against your cheek, and suddenly all your confidence about this little attempted comeback was flying out the window. His eyes drooped mischievously, glancing down at your parted lips as his hand creeped steadily onto your knee. Suguru was kind— so kind, and witty, and intelligent, and undeniably handsome, but all you could think about was Satoru.

“Suguru,” You stammered, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. Whether it was due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, or the proximity of the man that wasn’t the one who had been plaguing your mind for the past two months— you couldn’t tell. “I don’t want—”

“I know you don’t.” He reassured quietly, not daring to come any closer to you. That mischievous smile was slowly creeping back into his plush lips. “I don’t either, but sometimes Satoru needs a little bit of a push. Do you understand?”

The realization hit you like a splash of ice water. All this time, as you thought you were the cunning one, fooling Suguru while hoping to play Satoru, but you were the one being played. You blinked once, then twice, processing the hand of cards he was placing directly onto your unsuspecting lap.

“I can already feel that idiot’s eyes on the back of my head.” The dark-haired man explained amusedly, twirling a strand of your hair between his black-painted fingers. From the outside, you two looked entirely chummy, leaned into one another with your comparably smaller figure hidden behind his broad shoulders. His dark lashes fluttered up as he grinned conivingly at you. Suddenly, the hand that was tangled into your hair traced over your shoulders and carefully picked up the zodiac pendant hanging from your neck.

From the crowded kitchen, Satoru had been watching the two of you with bated breath. He was trying desperately to focus on the droning conversation he was being forced into, but the closer his friend leaned in to you, and the brighter you smiled up at him, the more incandescent the ball of heat in his chest burned. The guy in front of him was calling his name, but Suguru’s hands had grown too comfortable as they drifted across your supple skin. As another man’s fingers came around to taint the pendant on your neck— the one he’d given to you— the one he’d just clasped on his tongue as he felt you clench around his fingers, something within him snapped.

Shoving past the lingering group of drunken students in the kitchen, Satoru was a sight to be seen as he grasped firmly on his best friend’s shoulder, twisting him to face him.

“Satoru!” Suguru greeted cheerfully, as if he didn’t still have his grimy hand way too high up your leg. To make matters worse, the arm that had since been draped around the cusion settled down around your shoulders. “We were just—”

“What the fuck? That’s my—”

“Your friend, right?”

Suguru’s words pierced into his stomach with a sickening twist. His jaw seemed unable to hold his mouth shut anymore as irritation flooded his system. What was he going to say? He had no excusable reason to be so upset. His eyes drifted from his smug friend over to you, taking in your alcohol flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. The casual position you took next to his friend suddenly made him that much more nauseous.

“You’re drunk.” Satoru gritted through his teeth, gently grabbing your wrist in a firm hold to pull you up. As you stumbled up, he shot his friend a warning glare over your shoulder, indicating that they’d definitely be discussing this later. Suguru’s wolfish grin only grew wider.

“What are you doing? I was—” You grunted in aggravation as he shouldered through person after person, to lead you out the door. Once out in the hallway, you twisted your hand from his grasp. “I was talking to him.”

“Yeah, real nice conversation you two were having while you were shit-faced, and he was practically fucking you on the couch.”

“Fuck you, Satoru!” You spat. Despite your biting words, he was grasping at your shoulders to lead you back to your dorm room that was down the hall.

“Fuck me?” He laughed dryly as he dug into your bag to get your key and swing the door open.

“Yeah, fuck you!” You followed him in, jabbing a pointed finger into his back. His shoulders rose dramatically before drifting down, as if trying to calm the storm brewing in his chest. He turned to face you with a clenched jaw. “You don’t get to just swoop in and ruin things for—”

“He’s my friend!”

“Yeah? Well apparently so am I!” The tears you had sucked back up just hours prior finally made their grand reappearance, welling up embarrassingly in your darkly lined eyes. With a trembling lip, you pushed at his chest haphazardly. All the angry words he had planned to unleash upon you about how fucked up it was that you were getting so friendly with Suguru of all people got caught in his throat, and he watched with deflating shoulders as you broke down. A twisting sting was working its way back into his own chest. “You said it yourself, we’re just friends. So, if you could please stop acting like you give a shit and making me run in circles trying to understand what’s going on here, that would be really fucking nice, Gojo.”

It was becoming unbearable to look at him as you tore yourself down so vulnerably before him. Turning away, you furiously struggled to yank a makeup wipe out of its infuriatingly tight container before haphazardly wiping at your face and eyes. He called your name softly, but you shook your head.

“I don’t— I can’t be in a relationship, okay?”

His words that you assumed were meant to comfort you only served to embarrass you further as you tossed the dirty wipe in the little bin, moving to rummage in your closet for a sleep shirt. Those striking eyes followed your every movement, watching the way you pulled the baggy shirt over your torso before unzipping your dress from underneath it— hiding from him.

“Yeah, I can see that. Thanks for clearing that up.” You growled in frustration as you tried desperately to reach the zipper at the top of the now suffocating dress.

“Let me help—”

“Don’t touch me.” The command shot viscerally from your trembling lips, halting his movements toward you altogether. Had you not been so thoroughly embarrassed, heart utterly ripped up on the floor alongside your bruised pride, you would have felt guilty for the pained expression that flooded his beautiful features. Ignoring him, you finally yanked the zipper down and stepped out of the dress that flooded around your feet. “Go home. I’m back in my dorm, and I’m by myself— just like you wanted.”

“Quit it, that’s not what I wanted, and you know that.”

“Do I know that? Because one day you’re telling me not to fall in love with you, and then you’re buying me lunch every week and remembering shit about me that I don’t even remember. You fucked me in the bathroom at my birthday party then told everyone we’re just friends, but god forbid I talk to someone else, right?” You were stepping closer to him with each charged indictment, traitorous tears of frustration slipping down your cheeks. There was a storm brewing behind his eyes, ready to snap with each jab you threw at him, because he knew you were right. “I don’t care what you have to tell yourself. I can’t do it to myself anymore. So, if you won’t cut me from the fucking ceiling then I’ll do it myself. I’m done.”

“I’ve got a fucking kid, okay?” Satoru yelled, throwing his hands out at his sides in exasperation. He couldn’t take it anymore. It felt as though you were reaching into his chest with those delicate little hands he’d come to love just to rub salt in the already harsh reality of his circumstances. “Two of ‘em. You ready to take that on too? Huh?”

Wide eyes stared back at him, unblinking as he panted angrily at you. The dumbstuck expression on your face only served to frustrate him further, knowing it would always come to this. It wouldn’t have been fair to you, he knew that. Just because it was a responsibility he had chosen to take on at his ripe age, didn’t mean it should be tossed upon someone else as well. Satoru didn’t have the luxury of tossing around his feelings flippantly, even if he let this one go too far.

Sighing defeatedly, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed as your mouth opened and closed, attempting to process all that he’d just dumped on you. He pulled the glasses off his face to rub at his eyes.

“They’re… they’re not mine. Not actually, anyway.” He explained quietly, staring down at his lap. “But they don’t have anyone else, so… I take care of ‘em.”

“What?” You finally breathed in disbelief. In all honesty though, it made perfect sense. It explained all his sudden disappearances, all the mysterious phone calls, and fashionably late entrances. How could a guy like Satoru Gojo be taking care of two kids though? “Why— I mean, how?”

He glanced up at your mind-boggled babbling.

“My family thoroughly fucked over their father back in the day. He lost a lot of money because of a shady business deal my dad talked him into. I know it wasn’t me, but… I just felt partly responsible, y’know? They’re my parents, sure, but I feel like their name haunts me. Like I’ve gotta live with all the shit they’ve done— like I’m just as complacent. When I found out their dad had left… I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to help them.”

“Satoru…” You muttered in shock, slowly moving to sit beside him. It was incredible to you though, how he had managed to juggle everything all on his own while maintaining such presence and academic excellence at the university. “That’s… that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit. The kids card isn’t exactly a chick magnet.” He tried to laugh to ease some of the tension that had filled the room, but it came out dry. His insides felt like mush.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I thought…” His hand came up to nervously scratch at his neck, and you realized you had never seen him caught off guard like this. Satoru was always so confident and collected. Now, as he spared you a sidelong glance, as if too embarrassed to look at you head on, he seemed so vulnerable. The humility shifted his features, made his gaze softer and his expression less intimidating. You watched him gulp apprehensively and slide his glasses back on, as if they would shield him somehow. “I thought you would just be something casual. I didn’t think I’d care so much. I’m sorry.”

He moved to get up, but your hand caught his wrist, holding his hand down to the bed.

“I think what you’re doing for those kids is amazing, Satoru.” You emphasized as your brows knit together furiously. Even behind his spacious lenses, you could see the way his eyes widened at your authoritative tone. He needed to understand it though— how utterly wrong you had been about him, and how wrong he was about himself. “What happened to them isn’t your fault, but you’re helping them because you’re a good person. It doesn’t matter what your last name is.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his neck began to flush, the blood racing up his cheeks and to his ears. He quickly looked back down at his lap. You smiled softly at the sight. It felt nice to not be on the receiving end of such humility for once. His fingers twitched under yours, and you realized you’d never let go of his hand.

“You deserve every bit of happiness that I know you bring to those kids. Stop punishing yourself for your last name. And if that’s the only reason we’re just friends then… I think that’s bullshit.”

His head shot up to meet your gaze with an alarming swiftness. The tips of his snowy hair swayed across his forehead as he shook his head.

“I can’t ask you to take that on too. You have enough on your plate without me adding to it.”

“You’re not asking me for anything. I’m offering to be there for you through it.” You leaned closer to him, lacing your fingers through his. His hand squeezed against yours appreciatively. With a soft smile, you nudged his shoulder gently. “C’mon, aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need to loosen up. Live a little, dad.”

That familiar, cocky smile made its way back onto his plush lips, and he craned his neck around to peer at you in amusement.

“You into that sort of thing, pretty girl? Cause I so would’ve worked that angle forever ago if I knew.”

Tutting softly, you shoved at his face, trying to disguise the smile that couldn’t seem to stop growing infectiously across your cheeks. Your heart soared as he ran a thumb across your knuckles.

“Do you have a picture of them?” You asked softly, unsure if you were crossing a line.

His face seemed to light up in an excited grin though, and he nodded ardently, yanking his phone out of his pocket to scroll through his photos. Finally finding a suitable one, he eagerly shoved his phone into your face. You couldn’t help but laugh affectionately at his enthusiasm, pulling the phone back so you could inspect the photo before you.

The glaring, young boy in the photo looked as though he wished he was anywhere but standing beside the animated white haired man who towered over him with a wide smile that squinted his eyes as he held a peace sign out in front of him. The girl to the left of him appeared a bit older, and a hell of a lot more lively than her younger brother it seemed. She leaned politely into Satoru with her hands clasped behind her back and a kind smile gracing her young features. From the bits of the background you could make out, it looked like they were in some sort of ice cream parlor.

“He looks just like me, doesn’t he?” Satoru retorted with a theatrically dreamy sigh. Raising a brow at him, you smirked before handing him back his phone.

“Sure, when you get past that murderous look in his eyes, I’m sure he’s got your smile!”

“I’m raising a little serial killer, aren’t I?”

You giggled at his fearful tone, and his tense features settled into a fond smile. Reaching up hesitantly, he allowed you to pull the glasses off his face. His gaze fluttered over your face, leaning closer to you until his breath fanned over your face.

“You’re not really into Suguru, right?”

“That depends,” You whispered, concealing your tickled smile at his jealousy. “Are we still just friends?”

Satoru leaned forward until your back hit the bed with a soft bounce, grazing his hand around your neck to toy with your necklace.

“If you’ve got friends that can make love to you like I’m about to, we’re gonna have some problems, pretty girl.”

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with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months ago

Text

YOUR HEART WAS GLASS, I DROPPED IT ❆

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you open the door for your warm, ex boyfriend katsuki.

part 2/2. i’m sorry tumblrs not letting me link anything atm :(

inspired by champagne problems

katsuki booked his flight home at night for a reason.

it was dark, meaning no one really would be out. he wanted to be alone and sit there in his hurt. he wasn’t sure what he hated more- the bustling crowds or silent sleepers. both of them had a clear absence of you.

the winter chill seeps into his bones as he waits outside your door. after the phone hangs up, we anxiously wonders if you’ll even answer it. its -26°, and he can only imagine your bundled up in there. its the place he left you standing before hoping on a plane and abandoning what he had with you.

he’s about to turn away, before he hears your voice. “get in here, it’s freezing.”

he immediately obliges, stepping into the familiar space. crimson eyes stare at you, noticing your different appearance. you’ve cut your hair and pierced your ears. theres an ache in his chest seeing you for the first time again. suddenly the apartment began to feel much warmer.

“your hair. its… shorter.” he awkwardly mutters like a teenage boy asking you to a dance.

“uh, yeah. i wanted a change.” you chuckle, no less uncomfortable than him.

he wants to take your hand, but he’s scared he’ll drop it again. your place was cozy, yet crestfallen. he remembered you told him you never particularly enjoyed living alone. you lead him to the living room. there, he sees your cats cuddling, slightly jealous of the companionship they share.

its here he notices that its still chilly, albeit not as cold as outside. he quickly clutches his hands around the warm cup of tea you bring him, taking in the mundane sounds of your apartment. leftovers on the stove, the dripping of the sink, and the soft snores of your feline companions.

“sorry, my heaters still broken.” you apologetically quip, sitting down next to him on the couch. katsuki mentally facepalms himself for that. he said he’d fix it for you before he left.

“yeah. guess i forgot about that.” he says, barely looking you in the eye. if he was gonna break up with you, leave you stranded and hop on a flight out of the country, you think the least he could do is make sure you stayed warm- but no.

“why didn’t you get it fixed yourself?” he asks, his usual gruff voice replaced by a particular softness for you.

you just shrug. “i don’t know. i never got around to it. winter came early.”

the both of you remember when you first got together. he told his family for a reason. he was so excited, saying he found the one. a few months later, no one was celebrating.

love slipped beyond his reaches the day he began doubting himself. he wasn’t good enough for you. becoming the #1 hero in his country only made him wonder more about his worth. he could barely give a reason towards the break up, instead spewing out that he needed to think things through instead.

“..how was your trip?” you break the silence, though you know the answer. his trip was great. the media wouldn’t shut up about it. about his parties and award shows, about the lives he saved and the talents he has. they particularly the people, more so the girls he was with. though you decided not to bring that part up.

he paused for a moment. he knew you would say something about it soon. he was being watched and photographed everywhere he went, which included a few girls who got some videos and pictures with him.

“it was exhausting, more than fun. you know all those girls only care about publicity and attention, none of it was real.” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“i didn’t bring up girls.” you’re quick to remind him. though its nice how he’s so quick to assure any doubts you may have. “but… yeah. i figured as much.”

“you know nothing happened between me and anyone you saw, right?” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious- but its not. katsuki could have went home with someone else, done illicit drugs, drank and had unprotected sex, and it wouldn’t be any of your business.

“it… wouldn’t matter anymore if you did. we broke up before you left, remember?” you say.

theres nothing with katsuki’s memory. he thinks about that break up every damn night.

“um.. least you had kirishima with you.” you quip, just trying to lighten the mood. you get a genuine smile out of the blonde.

“yeah. shitty hair was annoying, as usual.” he chuckles fondly. only best friends can refer to each other like that.

shitty hair was also the guy that kept katsuki from doing something, or rather someone, he might regret. he knows his best friend and he knows where his feelings lie.

katsuki was midas. everything he touched turned to gold. and people adored him for it, revelling in the fame and fortune. but with that superpower comes consequences. not everything should b shiny and gold. sure, his midas touch on the chevy door looked beautiful, but you two could never actually drive it. your relationship shimmered and glistened, but it never went anywhere.

but for a moment, things were good. you’d laugh and smile with your group of friends- though after the breakup you believed you’d never say that word again. now, those friends have the nerve to deck the halls that katsuki once loved you in.

he never was ready, so you watched him go. neither of you just didn’t know the answer, even after begging him to stay on your knees.

you would have made such a lovely bride. what a shamed he’s fucked in the head. even though to him you were the real thing.

he still has your picture in his wallet. he wants to your hold hand dancing, and never leave you like he did ever again.

“…what happened to us, anyway?” he dares to ask, his whisper speaking volumes in the silence. he knows the answer. he knows why he did what he did. but you suppose he wants to know what you think.

“one moment you love me, and your promising to fix my heater… next thing i know, you’ve gotta think things through. and then you’re on a plane to los angeles.”

he flinches at that. kind of a dick move on his part, not explaining things and immediately fleeing the country afterwards. to be fair, it was a pr trip he had planned months before, but if that wasn’t the case he’d still book a spontaneous trip to alberta or somewhere, like the coward he is.

he feels the most guilt when you bring up the heater he said he’d fix. it wasn’t the only thing he promised you. he swore you’d always be loved, that you’d never be alone, and yet he couldn’t even give you a god damn warm apartment for the winter.

“i did love you.” he attempts to correct you, though you focus only on one word.

“did?” you ask, hesitantly.

he pauses again, realizing his slip up.

“…i do love you.”

you shake your head silently, eyes welling up with tears. one falls into your cup of tea. “don’t… don’t say that just to make me feel better, kats.”

but he’s not. he’s saying it because he means it. he’s saying it because he’s kept his mothers ring in his pocket, preparing for the moment he’ll make it your ring.

at this point, he can tell the cold is getting to you. your shaking slightly, your loose sweater respectfully doing nothing to shield you from the winter air. a broken heater neglected by a shitty ex-boyfriend is enough cold.

“you’re cold?” he asks. “no, i’m warm.” you answer sarcastically. its his fault for asking.

he debates on it for a moment. normally, he wouldn’t think twice before pulling you into his embrace. but now, he worries. he wonders if thats even what you want. his quirk keeps him warm enough, but you don’t have that. seeing your reaction to the bitter winter air pushes him to a decision.

“c’mere.”

maybe its the cold, the ache in your heart missing him, or some combination of both, but you don’t think twice before shuffling over to him on the couch as he wraps his arms around you. your head lays against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

god, he missed this. even the warmth of LA didn’t compare to holding you on a chilled night.

“you’re the worst.” you whisper, obviously still angry and heartbroken, yet still in his embrace. “i love you.”

those words feel like a confession. he takes it, both the proclamation of his faults and the admission that you still love him. both are true.

“i love you too, dumbass.” he says. “and i’m not just saying that.”

you perk your head up slightly, finally asking the million-dollar question: “..then why’d you break things off?”

he looks at you. he knows exactly why. but he’s not sure if he can break it to you yet. ultimately, he decides you deserve the truth.

with a sigh, he finally speaks. “i… i don’t know. i thought it would be better for you. i thought you’d be happier without me dragging you down, babe.”

you look into his red eyes and determine that he is, in fact, telling the truth- despite how fabricated it sounds. katsuki bakugou, the incredible #1 hero who was the best of the best, thought he wasn’t good enough?

yeah, thats exactly the case. because even through his heroic outside, katsuki wondered if you deserved more. or better.

he sees the confusion in your eyes and decided to explain his thoughts further. “i thought you’d be better off without me, with someone else. i thought you’d find someone better than me who didn’t have such a shitty personality, someone who you’d be better with.”

you shake your head, making sure he hears you. “i know you’ve been doubting yourself since you became #1… wondering if you’re good enough or not, but… i thought you’d at least know you’re good enough for me.”

its crazy to him how easy it was for his fears to die down if he had just talked to you in the first place. he’s learned his lesson.

so he nods, pressing a kiss and an “i’m sorry” to your forehead. you continue talking to him.

“you’re shitty, and you’re kind of an asshole.” you chuckle. “you’re also really sweet when it counts. you remember things about me. you fix things, i guess except for my heater… you’re good to me. you try. you try harder with me than with anything else in your life.”

he couldn’t help but smile a little at the truth in your words. even counting his time in UA, his relentless training to become a hero, katsuki tried the hardest to become better for you. “yeah. you make me wanna change.”

he presses his forehead to yours, just relishing in the newfound warmth. he’s happy, content.

“lets call it even.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his. “i didn’t think i was good enough for you either.”

he almost scoffs at that. “you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that.”

you roll your eyes. “so are you.”

tags! 🫧

@dragonscribble @rayleeya @brisklofitea @saceaseeds

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sanguineterrain · 5 months ago

Text

a bloody vow | jason todd

Summary: After the racy encounter with your knight, you seem to lose all progress made in your relationship. You hardly talk, and you're lonelier than ever. But after a house break-in has you running to Jason for help, you're forced to face each other, blood and all.

Pairing: knight!Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/tags: violence! Jason kills a man. reader and jason's house is broken into and the thief attacks the reader (but they're okay.) mentions of self-flagellation, religious guilt. reader feels very lonely without their big strong knight :( the eroticism of killing for another person. codependence. partial nudity. probably not the healthiest relationship but whatevs. Jason would do anything for them what more could you want?

the divider

Everything's changed since the morning that you found Jason with the whip.

He won't even eat with you anymore.

He accepts whatever you make and thanks you quietly, then eats his supper in the shed. He didn’t say much before—now you're lucky if you get more than a word from him.

He's also taken to punishing himself regularly. Jason does it far away, so he won't wake you. But you've seen his back and the welts peeking beneath his tunic and the spots of blood. You also see fresh injuries from his training, injuries that could be avoided if he was more careful. You've tried to offer him a salve to heal his back. He always refuses, flinching like a kicked dog if you get too close.

You fear that you'd pushed Jason too far that morning. You replay it in your mind, wondering what exactly had possessed you to act in such a vulgar manner. Exposing yourself to him like that after spying on him earlier—what were you thinking?

You weren't, is the truth. It seems all rational thought leaves your brain when you're around him.

It's truly like living with a ghost. Your feelings are jumbled, caught in a maelstrom of guilt and fear and desire. More than anything, you're unbearably lonely. You'd feared a harsh hand when you first were deposited into Jason's bed. You never imagined that there could be a worse fate than being wanted: being ignored.

So, it's been three weeks of this new routine. Jason has been disappearing at night to the pub. Not that he told you that—you know this because of the incessant gossip that flies around the market. It's not hard to decipher who the 'hulking knight' is when people stare at you.

You try not to think about what Jason gets up to. You really have no right to be angry if he finds someone to warm his bed. You're lucky he hasn't thrown you into the sea after your insolence.

Routine is all that keeps you sane. You do the washing and cooking without complaint. Jason still leaves you money to go to the market, and sometimes you save a couple of coins to buy books. You keep the books under a floorboard in your room. He never asks you for change.

You don't know if this routine will be enough, though. You wish Jason would just throw you out and be done with it. You're certainly not performing the duties that the king expected of you when he brought you here. Jason can hardly look at you, much less touch you.

You eat alone tonight. By the time you wash up and are ready for bed, it's late. Jason still isn't home.

Not unusual these days. You get into bed and blow out the candle. Maybe you won't wake in the morning. Then you'll both be free.

A crash jerks you out of slumber.

You're awake immediately, fumbling under your bed for the small dagger you'd secretly purchased when you first came.

Your first thought is that Jason came home drunk. But if he’s come home drunk in the past, you've never heard him, and it's always as quiet in the morning as it was the night before.

A chilling second thought hits you as the floor creaks outside your door.

Someone's broken in.

You quietly get to your feet, dagger in hand. If Jason were home, he would be here already, dealing with the problem. As it is, you're alone and completely vulnerable without your knight.

Your door splinters open. You stumble backwards.

"Wha' have we here?" A lantern shines in your face. "Look a' this. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone."

You bolt for the front door.

“Oh, no no, you don’t.”

The intruder darts after you and stops you before you can open the door. He hauls you backwards and throws you against the dying fireplace. You land on your ribs and the wind is knocked out of you.

"Too big of a house for a little mouse like you,” the man says with a greasy sneer.

You turn and lunge at him. You catch him off guard enough to stab his shoulder with the dagger. He howls in pain and shoves you off. Your head hits the wall, and for a moment, you fear you’ll vomit. But you don’t, so you stand.

"You bitch!" he shouts. "I'll fuckin' kill ya for that!"

That's all the motivation you need to run.

You’re aching all over, head pounding. Your legs are cold, being that you're only in a nightgown. You might be bleeding. But you keep running.

You run all the way into town, which feels like miles at this time of night, bruised as you are. It’s easy to find the pub, and it doesn’t even occur to you that you’re not allowed inside. All that’s on your mind is Jason. Find Jason.

You pound your fists on the door of the pub, crying.

"Jason, Jason!" you shout. “Help me, please! Please!”

The door opens. You stumble in, almost tripping on the uneven wood. Men stare at you as you enter.

"Jason!" you yell.

A knight you don't recognize stares down at you, blocking your path. You stumble back, grabbing the wall for support.

"Out," he snarls.

"Please," you beg. "Please, I need my husb—"

He's shoved aside suddenly, ale sloshing over his mug. He growls in protest, but someone drags him away by the back of his tunic.

Relief floods you at the familiar face who takes his place. Jason.

He's obviously shocked to see you here, eyes roving over you. His shirt is unbuttoned, a thin fresh cut on his cheek. He says your name. Every inhibition you’ve felt over the last month disappears.

"What—"

You throw yourself into his arms, weeping. Jason catches you, cradling the back of your head. You're surrounded by him, the rest of the world blocked out. He smells like the strong yellow soap you make in large chunks because it’s cheaper than purchasing it at the market. He smells like the home you share.

"What is it? Where do you hurt?" he asks quietly, shielding you from all the pairs of eyes. He rubs your back, bent over you. You cling to his neck, shaking with the memory of tonight.

"A man b-broke in," you say, and Jason's grip tightens. "He said–he said he w-would...k-kill…"

You trail off. Jason pets you, breathing even on your neck.

You know that you hardly have any rights, that the men here would sooner see you die than step into danger for you. Perhaps that includes Jason too. Perhaps it's too late.

"I understand," Jason says into your ear. He doesn’t waver despite how you tremble. "It's alright. I won't let him hurt you again. I'm... I'm so sorry for leaving you alone."

He exhales, long and slow. You feel him begin to pull away. You panic, digging your nails into his arms. Jason quickly soothes you. He doesn’t chastise you for clawing him.

"It’s alright. I'm going to handle this, and then we'll go home," he says. "Roy."

A redheaded knight approaches. You slowly turn your head. He smiles gently at you.

"Your Highness," he says, bowing deeply, and you feel a little lighter.

"Roy's going to take you home while I handle the thief," Jason says. "I promise that I'll be fast, alright?"

"You promise you won't leave?" you ask. “You’ll come home right away?”

Jason takes your hand, stroking your knuckles. "I swear. May God strike me down if I don't return."

“Oi, man, get your little harlot out of—”

Jason stands, rising and towering over the angry drunk. He’s immediately cowed under Jason’s gaze.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason says, even and deadly. The man leaves in a huff.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble," you whisper, cheeks still wet.

"You haven't," is all he says, before leading you outside.

You have an audience, which is absolutely humiliating, but neither Jason nor Roy pays them any mind, so you don’t either.

Roy helps you onto his horse, and in the time that that takes, Jason is already headed back to the house by the time you and Roy start off. You realize then that you trust Jason. You've never met this Sir Roy in your life—Jason's never even mentioned having friends. But you trust that you will get home safely.

“Jason won’t let him get away,” Roy says. You believe him.

The ride is short. You don’t know if you’ll manage to go back to sleep without Jason there, but the least you can do is host Roy, perhaps. You’re bone-tired, but you ought to be hospitable, shouldn’t you?

But as you get closer to the cottage, you hear voices in the woods. Jason’s horse is out front. You dismount without Roy's help and take off running. He calls after you. You ignore him.

You don't go through the house, not ready to face the destruction your intruder left in his wake. Instead, you go around and follow the stream into the woods. The voices get louder. When you get to the clearing by the shed, you stop.

The lantern has been knocked onto its side, flames flickering. But you can very clearly make out Jason in the dark. His shadow cuts a frightening figure that dances across the trees. Moonlight flickers through the canopy, illuminating him and the other figure. Your attacker.

Your attacker, who’s discovering that he picked the wrong house to rob.

Jason's got him pressed against a tree. Blood drips from the man's head and face. You stay a few yards away, behind a tree. The bark dully bites into your hand. You’re torn on whether you should make yourself known or not. Stop this or not.

"You touched them," Jason says, and does something with his sword that draws out a strangled groan from the attacker. The metal shines with fresh blood.

"I am worse than you," he continues. "I lost sight of my duty. My reason for living. Everything I do is for the star-crossed beauty my king captured for me. It's all I can do to pay penance for my sins. And you come into my house and dare to lay a hand on what is mine?"

The breath leaves you in a punch. You're cold with sweat, but something tugs at your gut. Something frightening. Something that tells you to stay hidden.

"I am worse," Jason says. "Because a good man would show you mercy and let you be hanged for your crimes."

"That fuckin' bitch deserved it," the intruder spits.

Here, Jason loses his composure. Here, he twists his sword.

"I will tear you apart," he says, voice a snarl.

And Jason does exactly that. It's bloody and gory. You feel sick a few times. You can't see everything in the fractured light, but you can hear it all. Bones crack, the man screams, but Jason doesn't relent. He drives his sword deeper and deeper. Blood gurgles from the attacker's mouth.

You watch on, feeling quite like you had the day you saw Jason fucking his fist.

The body drops with a thud as Jason lets him go. You imagine a sword slick with blood. You imagine Jason covered in it.

The realization is dizzying. You are an executioner, and Jason is your axe.

You don't know what you're more horrified by: the fact that it took you this long to look away or that you don't mind the stench of fresh blood.

Jason takes two steps and picks up the lantern. He sees you. He stops.

"He's dead," you say dumbly.

Jason swallows, face otherwise blank. "You... you were not meant to see that."

"I didn't." But you did.

He knows you did.

"Roy should've taken you inside," Jason says.

You can't understand why shame draws the lines of his shoulders.

"I didn't want to go inside," you say. "Not without you."

Jason inhales sharply. Then he looks away. "I shouldn't have... I pray that you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't."

Jason is covered in more than a little blood. Red spatters his cheek, though it looks black in the shadows.

He's slick with blood. You wonder if he'll bathe in the river. If you might help him.

You step forward. Jason is still. He watches you steadily as you approach.

You pull down the sleeve of your nightgown and reach for Jason's face. He flinches. You hush him.

"It's alright," you whisper.

He lets you touch his cheek. His eyelids flutter as you wipe the blood from his face. Then you hold his cheeks with both hands. Jason shudders.

"You can touch me," you say.

Immediately, Jason shakes his head, hands curling into fists at his side.

"No. I'm unclean. You shouldn’t touch me either, you’ll—you’re—”

"I don't mind." Your thumbs trace the contours of his face for a moment, feeling the hard line of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his full bottom lip. He lets you, eyes locked on yours.

Then, you pull up your nightgown, revealing your bare thighs, your underwear, your belly. Jason’s chest heaves. He immediately looks away. But you’re quick. You guide Jason's hand with your other hand. He stains your flesh with blood. You picture the sticky, bloody handprint he'll leave on your waist. That frightening feeling returns.

Jason's hand is hot on your skin. He exhales shakily.

"I'm sorry," he says again, cupping your waist. His fingers gently knead your skin as if he's testing if you're real. It tickles, but you don't move, fearing Jason will pull away at the slightest jerk.

"Don't sleep in the shed anymore," you say.

"Alright."

"Eat supper with me."

"Okay."

You draw Jason closer. Blood smears your clothed chest. His thighs warm your exposed legs. You will not let him punish himself in the morning. You will sleep on his chest if that’s what it takes. Only you are allowed to draw blood from him.

"Are you mine?" you ask.

Jason's answer is instant.

"Yes."

#Jason Todd x reader #red Hood x reader #red Hood x you #Jason Todd x you #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd imagine #red Hood imagine #red Hood fanfic #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #knight jason todd #knight au

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bonchobrick · 2 years ago

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So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.

Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.

——-

The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.

So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air

Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”

The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.

The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’

There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.

There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil

And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.

Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–

–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework

The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”

“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”

Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.

As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks

“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”

Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”

“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”

“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly

“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug

There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.

Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”

Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”

Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze

The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”

And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.

Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”

Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose

#dc x dp #dp x dc #fanfiction #danny phantom #batfam #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #maybes a fic #this was fun to write so probs part 2 later #Batfam: hello normal son #Danny with practicing the knot he learned in home ed on 37 criminals: hey guys #batfam: fuck #danny is a little shit #it’s up to your interpretation whether or not he’s genuinely clueless about the Waynes being the Bats #or if he’s fucking with them #ohkay going to sleep bye bye #mwah #also we do not see the bad grammar haha gn #veerliwrites

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nawoken · 6 months ago

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How will the NRC boys react when you overblot with the thought of suicide?

I don't know what I am doing, but since many people are interested in Suicide Overblot Reader, I will write something for it then. Reference to this post.

I think I will try to do all of them. I hope...

Some might be OOC because I don't understand their character enough (Trey and Cater in this post case), sorry if it bothers you guys.

I don't really write it as platonic or romantic, try to keep it neutral so u can read it the way u want?

Warning: Mention of suicide, self-destructive, angst, depression(?), blood,... a bit heavy thought I guess?

Part: Hearslabyul

Riddle

- When he reaches Ramshackle and sees you got overblot, he is uneasy but still remains calm and serious.

- Slightly think that part of this is his fault for not paying more attention to you. He knows that you had to bear a lot of things lately, with school, with Crowley's unreasonable quest,...

- But, he has to stay strong, he has to, he is a Housewarden after all.

- But... when Riddle sees you hurt yourself, he is stunned and terrified. This can't be happening, it shouldn't be.

- He hears your faint cries about your insecurities, your fear of being a burden... and your wish to disappear.

- It makes him heartache, wonder what has made you reach this point. Then, it hit him, every word he told you when you guys first knew each other, before his overblot, and before he changed.

- This must be his fault, he has hurt you... Riddle lost in his guilt, almost overblot right then and there.

- Even Trey can't pull him back to reality, but Ace's punch can.

- "Stop blaming yourself, don't you want to save them?" It actually helps Riddle calm down.

- Riddle braced himself, he had to make it right, so he could apologize to you properly.

- You got him traumatized. And you guys will also have a longgg conversation after things end.

Trey:

- He is... a lil bit shocked and worried about the situation. But, years of taking care of Riddle and his maturity helped him stay calm.

- Even when you hurt yourself, he only flinches a bit before pulling out his pen and trying to destroy the black inky thorns without hurting you.

- Things get worse when Riddle loses his sanity and starts to blame himself while Ace and Deuce lose their cool, kicking and fighting to get to you.

- Try to calm Riddle down. But it's no use.

- Ace's outbursts still make him surprised every time, but at least things have become more stable. They can focus on the main problem now.

- He keeps calm through it all, but when everything comes to an end, he falls to the ground and exhales all his built-up tension.

- He will check in on you a lot more. Reaching out to you, asking about your day, and baking you a lot of treats. Become your figure mother at some point...

Cater:

- Like Trey, being the third-year he is, Cater is much more mature and reliable than he seems.

- Use his unique magic, protect the first year, and even try to lighten the mood while keeping an eye on you.

- He is not too worried since everyone is gathering here, to save you! So nothing can be wrong... right?

- The moment he sees the blood splatter out of your body, he inhales sharply and trembles slightly before turning around to block the view of the freshmen.

- But he fails to keep them from the view, so now Ace and Deuce go berserk. At least Epel and Jack are still sober enough to hold the duo back.

- Multitasking. Become much more serious.

- After it all, he won't force you to tell him things but he will talk with you a lot more, maybe about this funny meme or some new trend on Magicam. Do his best to make you laugh.

Ace:

- He first tries to joke about this when he sees you in your oveblot form. Act cool and funny but can't hide his care for you. Swear that he will knock you on your head a few times for making them worry sick.

- The moment you hurt yourself? Ace and Deuce tried to rush toward you but got held back by other first-years.

- Scold you, told you to stop hurting yourself, and even threatened that if you don't stop he will fight you...

- Also scold you for being stupid. Yes, you're magicless but you also have survived many life-or-death situations that even a pro mage can't. You're not useless!!!

- Asked Riddle to do something just to find out his dorm leader is having a mental breakdown right there.

- He punches Riddle (the second time), how can he act like that when you're still in danger?!

- Ace also cooled down after that, he left the job of returning you to normal to the Dorm leader while helping others destroy those blot-made thorns to prevent them from hurting you.

- You guys will have to talk a lot after this, and you know can't avoid it, Prefect.

Deuce:

- His face turned pale the moment he saw you. Out of anyone, he doesn't think you're the one who got overblot.

- Especially when you stab yourself, he lost his mind. The moment he runs out to you, Epel holds him back. Others told him to calm down, to make a plan.

- But, Deuce can't even hear a word, all he can hear is your whimpering and the scene of the thorns lunging through your flesh keeps playing in his mind.

- Like Riddle, he also blames himself. The difference is that he blames himself for not looking out for you more. You guys have been friends since the beginning and you are always taking care of them, but they have failed to do so for you.

- The guilty feeling building up inside him made him mad, he wanted to punch, to fight, to take his anger out on something.

- After the "fight" between Riddle and Ace went off, Deuce finally calmed down.

- After things end, the moment you back to normal, he will immediately run to you and hold you close, afraid that if he lets go, you will disappear.

- Says sorry to you again and again...

- Become a bit paranoid and protective after your suicide attempt.

____________

5.C: This took me forever to finish, now I have 17 more to finish. Gotta say, Riddle is the easiest person to write about.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #riddle rosehearts #ace trapolla #deuce spade #cater diamond #twst x yuu #heartslabyul #heartslaybul x reader

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samuelsdean · 2 years ago

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Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.

genre: tooth-rotting domestic fluff

word count: 1.5k

author's notes: i wrote this because domestic!spencer reid is a guilty pleasure of mine. i can definitely picture him as an attentive boyfriend because aside from the fact that he has flawless memory, he's an overall caring guy. with that said, i hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this!

ONE OF THE MANY PERKS OF HAVING A BOYFRIEND WITH FLAWLESS MEMORY IS THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO REMEMBER STUFF—HE REMEMBERS THEM FOR YOU. Do you have a dentist's appointment at 9? Covered. He will be waking you up at 7 with breakfast in bed. Your sister’s birthday is coming up. No worries! He has already ordered a bouquet ready to be sent on the day. It is amazing, and you thank your lucky stars for him every morning when you wake up and see him cozily sleeping beside you.

However, you were out of luck on the boyfriend angle today. You had your monthly—or if the BAU is free—girls' night scheduled tonight. As much as you enjoy having girls' nights with the BAU girls, Spencer also likes to spend some time out with the guys for a nightcap or something, whatever the men at the BAU enjoy when there is no case. And that means, your boyfriend is busy getting ready to go out as well. Although Spencer has never forgotten a thing in his life—even when he is on the brink of life and death—you do not want to stress him out even more by asking him what you think you have forgotten to prepare.

So, today when you were running around the house like a madman trying to collect the stuff you need to bring to Garcia’s for girls' night, you have no one else to blame but yourself. You have depended on your boyfriend to remember stuff for you that you always leave the preparation at the very last minute. At the moment, you believe you’ve never hated yourself as much as you did now, which is quite the feat considering that you’ve hated yourself a lot before for chickening out on confessing your feelings to boy wonder—your boyfriend, Spencer Reid—only to find out he shares the same feelings.

Scratch that, you hate your boyfriend right now more than you hate yourself.

Currently, that same boyfriend has been snickering nonstop at you dashing left and right and gathering the things you need to bring. Face masks? Check. Wine? Check. What else were you forgetting?

“You know, there’s this study that says only 82% of people have a time management system.”

Your ever-loving boyfriend, Spencer, decided to share. You were about to chuck the throw pillow at him because you could hear the I told you so in his voice, but you knew his fact-sharing and nagging was his unique way of saying, “I love you, but you could’ve remedied this problem by preparing the stuff you’ll need the night before.”

“No, I don’t, Spence. But, do tell.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Spencer was sporting a shit-eating grin and was probably holding in a laugh at the strain in your voice from recalling whether you’ve got everything so you can head over to Garcia’s. You’re pretty sure Garcia is about to talk your ear off if you’re running late. You missed out on the last girls' night after you bailed on them, wanting to spend the night with Spencer, watching Star Wars, and eating takeout.

“There's a survey done recently which revealed that 90% of people say better time management can lead to increased productivity.” Spencer started explaining, hands waving around as if to demonstrate the numbers in front of him. “However, only 18% of people have a proper time management system.”

“And?”

“Well, it just reminded me of you.” Spencer pursed his lips now, as he tried to explain his thoughts without annoying you. “If you just had a proper time management system like a to-do list or a planner. You could save at least..” He stared at his watch and did the math, “You could save at least one hour and forty-three minutes of your time instead of panicking over whether you got all the things you need for girls' night.”

“I don’t need that when I have you. Don’t you think so?”

This made your boyfriend blush, and you giggled, heading towards his direction, so you could wrap your hands around his waist and bury your face into his chest. You were the luckiest person alive for getting to date someone as wonderful as Spencer.

What you just said would not have made anyone flush and nervous, but Spencer was different. You knew he’s never been in a formal relationship with anyone before you. Thus, from time to time, he still gets embarrassed by your antics which you’ll always be endeared by. You live to see your boyfriend getting flustered because it gives you a reason to shower him with affection like now.

“I love you too, Spence.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to burst from your directness. You and he may deal with a lot of blood and gore during work, but he can be the most fainthearted person alive when it came to your affections.

“B-but I didn’t say I love you..” He trailed off, confused as to why you were suddenly proclaiming your love for him. You grinned even more as you pinched the tip of his nose.

“You didn’t have to, Spence. I know your nagging is one way of you saying you love me, and I love you for that.”

Spencer scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his neck out of shyness. If you could keep him in your pocket for safekeeping, you would. He’s just too precious for this world.

“But, as much as I love you, I know just as much that Penelope will have my ass kicked by Emily if I get to her house late,” you broke free from your boyfriend’s comfy arms, checking the bags you packed while doing so. “I have to go, baby. I think I got everything I need.”

Picking up your bag and care package, you ruffled your boyfriend’s brown locks, which made him frown a bit and sigh. You snickered at his reaction and proceeded to walk towards the front door. You were about to reach the staircase just outside your shared apartment when you realized something.

You forgot your car keys.

Berating yourself in your head, you were certain once you entered that door, Spencer would be on your case like a mother duck. He can be too fretful when it comes to you. Oh well, that is one thing you love about him. Huffing, you slowly turned the doorknob and found Spencer leaning on the wall just inside the door with his arms crossed, looking at you smugly. You rolled your eyes.

One thing about Spencer Reid is he can be a cocky little shit when proven right. And that happens most—if not all—the time, with his IQ of 187 and eidetic memory. Unfortunately for him, he also happened to date a cocky little shit—you—who likes to fluster the living lights out of him. And right now, you just thought of the perfect way to get back at him.

But first, your car keys. Spencer next.

Once you have retrieved the pesky item—like it’s the car keys’ fault, you forgot to get them—you turned towards the door, not paying any attention to your boyfriend, who was already cracking up at you. Only when you’ve reached the door, your back towards Spencer, did you smirk. Oh, he’ll never know what’s coming to him. You did a U-turn and

“Forgot something, sweetheart?”

“Why, yes I did, Dr. Reid,” you stated plainly, beelining towards him, making him take a few steps back until he ended up with his back against the wall. He's so easy to fluster. "I forgot to do this."

You slanted your head and pressed your lips against his. Your bodies were snug against each other as you kissed heatedly against the wall. You could feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks as he parted his lips slightly to kiss you deeper. You could taste your shared breath, smell his faint perfume, and feel the slight scruff of a stubble about to show up. Warmth blossomed in your chest when you felt Spencer caress your face as if you were fine porcelain.

Kissing Spencer Reid never gets old in your books. Despite his lack of romantic experience and being the eager researcher that he was, Spencer was an eager lover—he would kiss you every chance he'd get to know how to please you, which paid off, by the way. This may be a biased opinion but you think the best kisses you have shared were with Spencer.

However, like all good things, kissing Spencer has to end, or Garcia will have you banned from her house for running late.

You pulled away from Spencer and grinned at him, to which he returned with a stunned smile. You chuckled when you noticed your lipstick smudged on the corner of his lips and brushed a finger to erase it. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to be the subject of Morgan's teasing once they're together after this. Noticing the daze your boyfriend is under is about to wear off, and he was about to say something, you beat him to it by pressing a smooch on his nose and pulling away completely.

"I gotta go, Dr. Reid. Don't miss me too much!"

You scampered towards the door and shot a wink at your bewildered boyfriend—who was now sputtering in indignation for interrupting what he was about to say. He is so cute.

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angelsrcute · 8 months ago

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Haloo :D im wondering if u r taking requests now but if u r can u write a fyodor with immortal female reader ? It would be wonderful if u can can but u can ignore this request if u want to

“ But can't you see my dear? I am your doppelganger ♡”

⌗ A LOVE IMMORTAL SUCH AS MINE, WILL COME TO ME, ETERNALLY. 𐙚˙⋆.˚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Immortal!Vampire!Fyodor + Sub!Immortal!Vampire!F!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, Jealous!Fyodor, Vampire themes, fwb → lovers, alcohol mentions, biting, unprotected sex + use of lube, tit play, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), slight Yandere!Fyodor(?), Soft!Fyodor.

꒰ † ੭ — this ended up being my longest fic ever, lol, 1.3k words!! I am taking reqs! + a lil inspiration from olgami, it's such a good webtoon. (人´∀`)♪ Translation: "Мышка" (myshka)

When humans age, they die and pass on to the afterlife, don't they? Death was something that never came to you, ah immortality, such a cool thing. It was more like a curse to you, humans coming and going, years passing by but still no one seemed to notice the same face walking among them for all these decades. Faces unrecognisable as you try to remember their names, their relation with you, not that it mattered anyway.

Relationships were a nuisance, blink and they're already gone, dead, as you stand in their funeral. It was a really funny thing, oh how you wished you could die instead of watching your loved ones die.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. Not a famous name for humans but for vampires, they say he's the oldest vampire to ever live. Have you ever met with him? You did, decades ago, in his bed, in his mansion, fyodor needed some relief and so did you.

He was the one who saved you from your death, why? Because he thought you were interesting. He'd take care of you and teach you how to hunt, how to kill people and make sure no one finds out. He seemed like a lonely man too, house deep in the woods, living all by himself.

The other vampires though, had this bloodlust, to kill him, to become the lord themselves. Everyone clawing at any chance they get, to paint their fingers red with his blood. You never understood their reasoning, what's so good living a life like this?

Dressed in the finest silk and jewelries, he liked seeing you in white clothing the most. He said it made you look like a saint, the saint that brought some change to his boring life. He definitely wasn't a fan of other vampires eyefucking you at meetings. Well, they'd end up going missing anyway.

Cleaning up after him was annoying, why did he have to be so busy? that also playing the piano as he drank wine. Blankly staring at the body in front of you as you clean the floor, muttering curses at him.

It didn't take long but you fell for him, yearning for his touches, but you could never confess, fearing it would ruin your relationship. Your body burning like fire as he kisses you, snapping his hips against you, dress ripped off and discarded on the floor.

“You liked that dress? I'll tell them to make one for you again, money isn't a problem for me.”

Cold slender fingers playing with your nipples as he decorates your neck with bite marks, drawing blood from them. Tongue darting out to lick the blood as he whispers about how sweet you taste to your ears. Your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes roll back from pleasure, his hands holding your leg up at this point.

Everything was going smoothly until one day he disappeared, without a single word. All the other vampires went crazy over this fact. Some were happy thinking he finally died, some just disappointed that they couldn't be the one killing him.

You returned to Russia after a lot of years, travelling all over the world, everything was different to you, with the years, technology also grew, like for instance, this human was staring into a phone. Bumping into you and not saying a single apology but they had the audacity to curse you instead, calling you blind.

Well, guess you just found yourself dinner, how lucky. Hiding the body with no effort, muttering to yourself “The world would be a little better without people like this.”

You went down an alley, there was a nice bar here, you remembered. Entering it, you took a seat after ordering your favourite drink. From the corner of your eyes, you could see a stranger coming up to you, sitting beside you, “I've never seen you around here, darling, do you need some help? I know a really nice place around here–”

The man went on rambling about nonsense, poor attempts at flirting, and why is he even talking about himself, you don't remember asking. Quietly sipping on your drink as you ignored the stranger. The stranger, though, seemed offended, “Hey I'm talking to you, whore, if you don't want attention, dress up more!”

Now that part really got on your nerves, what were you supposed to wear, a long ass winter jacket? You could just pretend to play along and just kill this guy, not even interested in drinking his blood! But someone else's voice stopped you, a voice too fucking familiar.

It was none other than fyodor, you watched as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you by his side, eyes narrowing at the stranger with a smile, “It's really rude to flirt with someone's lover, don't you think? You'll walk away from here and remember nothing.” The guy on command, got up and left the bar, the people in the surrounding, definitely didn't care.

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Мышка.” He chuckled, as if he just met you yesterday and not decades ago.

“What the fuck? Where the hell were you for all these years!?” You shouted at him, burning a hole into his face with your glare, “Of course I'm surprised, am I not supposed to be when you appear like that? God!”

“Let's discuss it somewhere private, shall we? I know a hotel nearby.” You hated how composed he seemed to be, but still followed him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“I was a bit hurt, dear, why didn't you tell the man to leave? or were you interested?” He asked while sitting down on the bed.

“Is that what we're talking about? Give me an explanation, fyodor, where the hell were you?”

“A bit busy, don't mind me, I had business that needed to be taken care of.”

“That's it? You could've at least told me a goodbye! or sent letters.”

“Ah, but that would give away my location, wouldn't it? I didn't want any disturbances, but enough about me, where were you? I couldn't find you in my mansion.”

“I was travelling, and I did not see a point in staying there if you weren't there but you really had me worried, you know?” You sighed, sitting beside him.

Well this was supposed to be meeting up with a past ‘friend’. So why did this turn into a fucking session? According to a certain someone, he wanted to make up for his mistakes!

Currently between your thighs, lapping up your folds like he hadn't eaten in years, savouring the taste like it was his favorite meal. He teased your clit with his tongue, gently flicking it, before sucking it into his mouth. Your moans and whines were music to his ear, he could feel you were close, his tongue speeding up to make you cum.

“F-fuck…gonna cum–” You stammered before cumming, lewd slurping sounds filling the room before getting up and kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. A string of saliva joining your tongue after he breaks the kiss, he definitely likes seeing you like this— face flushed, hair disheveled, neck decorated by pretty hickeys by him.

You don't remember what round it was, all you can feel is the way he keeps fucking his cum back in your cunt. Sweat glistening on your body as you can't help but let out whimpers due to overstimulation, “T-Too much, fedya…slow down–”

“I'm sure you can cum for me again, my dear.”

He kisses your tear soaked face while rubbing soothing circles on your clit to calm you down. You pull him closer to kiss again, running your hands through his soft hair before he cums in you for the last time and pulls out.

Fyodor runs you a warm bath and then puts you on the bed, climbing in to cuddle with you, well, such a memorable get together isn't it?

Taglist: @blueberrisdove

#𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)#dom character #sub reader #bsd smut #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd x female reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

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mcflymemes · 6 months ago

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AS SAID BY JASON TODD/ROBIN/RED HOOD * assorted dialogue from multiple dc universe sources, adjust as necessary

i did it once for dramatic effect and it just got to be a habit.

you can't tell, but i'm dozing off under this mask.

a whole night in paris... and i managed to not kill anyone. not bad.

you made the same mistake everyone does when it comes to me.

i want to warn them... but i know i can't.

don't know, don't care. i got my hands full.

do you remember the last time we were together?

looks like you guys could use a hand!

i'm looking for someone.

i'm afraid it's about to get much worse.

the angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

you and i are more alike than you realize.

i get it. starting over is scary as hell.

i don't even need to turn around to know that's you.

thanks for thinking of me. i'm happy to help. honored, even.

i generally have several madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast.

nothing in the real world can be as frightening as what we can imagine... right?

you don't think i understand what it's like to be abandoned? forgotten?

i'll be damed if my best friend is going to die... because he was dumb enough to trust me.

i'm sorry. i'm never going to be the hero you want me to be.

next time i see you, i'm going to kick your butt for this dying crap.

you have ten seconds to walk way. nine... oh, screw it.

there are better ways to spend your energy.

that looks like it's gotta hurt. well, i say that like i'm speculating or something. i know it hurts.

we chose to be a family.

if there's hope for us... there's hope for everyone.

you still haven't figured it out?

life's just a game... and this time, you lose.

i seem to have made myself an enemy of all the bad guys.

it's too late. you had your chance.

i'm just getting started.

hard to forget that night, huh?

in a way, this was the site of your first great failure.

ah... memories.

you can't stop crime. that's what you never understood.

you want to rule them by fear, but what do you do to those who aren't afraid?

i'm doing what you won't.

i'm taking them out.

now tell me... how does it feel?

is that what you think this is about?

i don't know what clouds your judgement worse. your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.

i forgive you for not saving me.

he took me away from you.

i am no one's son.

what do you think this was all about?

welcome to planet earth, baby.

fear isn't the answer.

you son of a bitch.

we were friends, helping each other pick up the pieces of our lives.

it might not be a popular thought, but not everyone wants to be alive.

can you hear it?

funny, i actually escaped death.

the past keeps dragging me back.

they're not monsters. they're victims of programming, abuse, and trauma.

they can change.

fact is, they're just like us.

we became something else.

you hurt a lot of people.

we don't discriminate here.

sometimes you don't know what you want 'til you learn what you don't.

trust? you? i'll give it a try. but i'll tell you right now, i'm probably going to screw it up.

guys like us? the life we lead? we're never truly alone.

i have no idea who you people are.

you pompous ass.

before i kill you, i want the truth.

i'd like to think i'm an open-minded guy.

sure it was fun. but does that mean it was right?

sometimes i wonder if i'm just part of the problem.

i'm not doing one more damn mission with them unless you get me someone i can trust to watch my back.

knew you couldn't do it.

it's official. class is in session.

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arachnoia · 2 years ago

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Hello! I was wondering if I could request Miguel touching himself as we talk to him over the phone? We can be aware of it or completely oblivious idc

GAH DAYUM ANON 🫣 ofc ofc ty! requests are open!

tags- just nsfw from this point, drabble !

—— Usually at 10 p.m in the evening, Miguel O’Hara wouldn’t be asleep but instead overlooking different universes. He just stays up in general, with complaints about wanting him to go to sleep. Even having a girlfriend wouldn’t stop him from staying up, in more ways than just “checking the universe”…

Like listening to you rant about other people you had a problem with at your job in your own universe.

“…And so like this one guy was telling me that my shots were blurry? Which wasn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

“And she was tellin’ our boss that I pushed her?! Oh my god you’d hate her.”

“Mhm.”

He smiled a bit. Again, usually he wouldn’t be listening to a person talk more than 3 minutes if it didn’t have to do with the multiverse. Until he began dating you which was a whole other story for another day.

“Are you even listening?!”

He widened his eyes at your outburst. Of course he was listening! He would listen to your heaven-sent voice every day.

“Yes. Of course I am, hermosa?”

He heard your breath steep for a minute before you let out a groan and a thud, “Oh fuck— Sorry I just knocked something over.”

He didn’t know why but felt blood rush down there. That noise you made sounded so melodic, so euphonious. Your voice alone makes him feel some type of way.

But that.

That was different.

He looked down to the tent in the lower part of his suit. It was pathetic, he knows. But it has to be taken care of. He bit his lip and stretched his arm to turn himself on mute.

And at a press of a button, he began stroking his exposed dick. He couldn’t help but feel like something is missing. That being your presence. Not just on telephone.

A smile played out on his lips as he imagined yours. Your beautiful pink lips talking. Your lips licking at a lollipop. Your lips around his cock as its stuffed down your throat.

Everything about you was ethereal to him. He looked at his hand jerking off his dick and moaned quietly.

He just wanted it to badly to be your hand doing that. Your hand struggling to grab onto his dick fully.

“Fuck, Y/N…Shit—”

Or for you to complain about how much he’s filling you up, complaining about how fucking big he is. All the things that would stroke his ego as well as the thought of your tight pussy around his dick, clenching around him.

“Mami…fuck…” he let out a stifled moan and kept pumping.

God, how he would love to have you leaving soft kisses around his dick. He bit his lip and threw his head back as he kept pumping until he let out his load on his thighs, frowning once he was done.

What a fucking waste.

He let out a deep sigh and rubbed at his temple, “Fuck, Y/N…The shit you do to me.”

“Uh huh…”

His eyes widened in panic as he saw his phone screen and realized that he wasn’t on mute.

There was a bit of silence before you spoke again, a dark and elusive tone dripping from your lips.

“So…Miguel.”

“I-”

“Save it for next time, baby. Maybe then, you won’t have to use your hand next time I see you.”

God, you were going to be the end of him.

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x you #drabble #answered #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x you #miguel smut #sol (not de janeiro)

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damiansgoodgirll · 4 months ago

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hi girly i love your writing honestly i get so excited when i see you posted!

Can you do a damian priest x reader where reader goes for a night out with rhea and gets to drunk and damian comes to “save” her and is all protective. like reader asks “why do you care?” and damian is like “because i love you”

damian priest x reader (romantic) / rhea ripley x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️drunk reader, feels, a little angst and lot of fluff

monday night

“should we go right after the interviews?” rhea asked as you were finishing retouching your make up.

“absolutely” you smiled back “i think i’ll be done in thirty minutes, what about you?”

she looked at the clock and thought for a moment “probably twenty minutes, i have to finish some interviews with damian and then i’ll change…”

before you could reply, damian entered rhea’s locker room, definitely not expecting you there “rhea are you done? oh - hi y/n” he awkwardly smiled, making you chuckle.

“hi…” you blushed under his gaze.

you’ve always had a crush on him but you knew he saw you just as a friend. you tried to give him hints but he never seemed to understand or maybe he did but wasn’t interested. you couldn’t tell but either way, you got tired of waiting for him so even if it hurt, you were okay with being just friends with him.

“yes i’m done” rhea replied to damian “thirty minutes y/n, okay?”

“perfect, see ya!” you quickly excused yourself and met jackie for a quick interview.

rhea smirked seeing how damian reacted being in your presence and she couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to confess to you.

“what you girls doing in thirty minutes?” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“oh, nothing, y/n wanted to try this club she saw on her way here and i’m going with her? you wanna come?”

he was honestly shocked. you weren’t for clubs. you always hated them and he knew so he didn’t understand why all of sudden you wanted to try a a club in a city you didn’t even know.

“no thanks…i’m going straight to the hotel after we finish our interview” he thought for a moment “plus, who goes to a club on monday night? it’s gonna be so boring…”

rhea scoffed “people who wanna have fun and not be bothered by too many people”

the older man laughed “okay, fair, let’s get this done so you can get ready and have fun with her…”

somehow, he was jealous of the close bond between you and rhea. you were amazing friends and it was thanks to her if he got the opportunity to meet you. he tried to spend as much time he could with you but it wasn’t enough. rhea was with you almost of the time so there wasn’t much time for him to spend with you alone.

rhea saw the side eye damian gave her and she knew she had to act quick because you were both two idiots in love and she couldn’t stand the glances and flirts you gave each other without realising that you both had feelings.

once you finished your interview, you ran back to your changing room and put on some clothes you brought for the club. nothing too excessive but you felt comfortable in that short dress you got. it was one of your favourites and you always looked for an occasion to wear it. pairing it with matching heels, you were done, ready for rhea who was taking longer - as usual.

as you walked towards her changing room, your eyes met with damian. shyly smiling, you waved at him.

you were breathtaking, the most beautiful person he’s ever seen “the dress looks good on you” he complimented you. he was genuine, you could tell it from his smile “rhea’s almost done, sorry we took so long with the interviews”

“thank you…” your face was heating up, not used to being complimented so often and especially not by the man you had a crush on “and no problem with that, i get, interviews can be long sometimes” as you were both speaking you saw rhea making her way out of her room.

wearing a black top and a black pair of jeans, boots and a black purse, she was more than ready.

“ready girl?” she smirked at you, making you nod your head.

“have fun girls” damian smiled - or at least, he tried. he walked with you to the parking lot before getting into rental and driving away, back to the hotel.

of course rhea had to pick metal music for the ride but you didn’t mind it as your mind was thinking of the latin man. you wished you had a closer bond with him, like him and rhea, or maybe even more but in your mind he was way out of your league. you saw the women he was interested in and none of them looked like you. those were models, tall and beautiful, and you were just, well, you. you knew that damian would never think of you like that but sometimes you wondered how it would feel like being loved by him.

you saw it with rhea. how caring he was towards her. how he cared for her, always making sure she was okay - especially since the judgement day broke apart - how he always texted her if she was okay or if she needed anything. you thought about the woman he would fall in love with one day and how lucky she was would be.

“…earth to y/n…” rhea snapped her fingers in front of your face trying to wake you up from your thoughts “are you here?”

“oh sorry, i was thinking…are we arrived?” you asked and she nodded.

seeing the parking lot loaded with cars, maybe this club was full seven days a week, you thought. making your way into the place, you were both met with the flashing neon lights and the disco music echoing inside.

a lot of people dancing and some at the bar, but it was nice and cool, no drunk men dancing and trying to catch girls attention, bodyguards securing the area. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i need a drink first” you laughed as rhea followed you to the bar as you both ordered some cocktails. rhea decided to stay light with her drink, knowing that she would have to drive you back to the hotel while you tried a vodka and tequila mixed cocktail. it was strong but not enough for you. you never really liked alcohol but tonight you were testing yourself.

“is it good?” rhea asked seeing how quickly you drank that.

“yup” you giggled “i’m gonna get another one and then we can dance?” you weren’t really waiting for an answer from rhea but she wasn’t expecting to see you getting a second drink in less than ten minutes.

once your glass was full again, rhea dragged you to the dance floor. maybe it was the music mixed with the taste of alcohol burning in your mouth but everything was spinning and you loved that sensation.

you couldn’t even tell how much time passed but your legs were feeling heavy. you needed to sit for a bit. rhea agreed and she pointed out a small booth at the end of the club.

“my feet are killing me” you laughed, exhaling trying to let go of your pain.

“i told you multiple times to not wear heels when you’re dancing…but you never listen” smirking, she pointed out at your red feet.

“yeah i know…” as you were both joking, a barista came to your both and offered you two shots of tequila.

“it’s on the house” she gently said before leaving.

“oh i can’t drink that or i’m not gonna be able to drive back” rhea said but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t a fan of alcohol, in fact she always tried to avoid it. you took both glasses and shoved them down your throat. feeling the burning sensation, not helping your head who was still spinning from before “okay girl, take my glass too, i guess” rhea laughed.

two shots and two cocktails later, you were now sipping wine as rhea blurted out how happy she was with jey.

your head was spinning, laughing from time to time.

“girl, you still with me?” rhea asked waiting for a reply but all that came out from your lips was a drunk laugh “y/n?”

“i’m okay…” you whispered.

not sounding so sure, rhea rolled her eyes “stop drinking that wine”

“i rather drink than face my problems…” you said looking everywhere but rhea.

“what problems?” she laughed. of course she knew anyone had problems but you never mentioned anything with her so she was pretty surprised to hear those words coming from your mouth.

you took a deep breath “damian…he’s my problem…i think i love him” you were sure you loved him.

rhea then got a big idea “stay here, and don’t drink your wine, i’ll go to the bathroom real quick”and in fact, she went to the bathroom, sending a quick text message to damian, knowing that if you needed help, he would be on his feet in less than ten seconds.

hey dam! i hope you’re still awake. y/n is drunk and i don’t think i’ll be able to bring her back to the hotel. can you come here and help me please?

as damian saw that text, he took less than five minutes to wear a pair of shoes and texting rhea for the address. rhea always told him how you weren’t much of a drinker so he got worried, fearing someone tried to get their way with you.

“where did you go?” you asked rhea with a disapproval look “you left me alone so i started talking about my problems with the barista…she offered me another shot” you pointed out at the empty glass in front of you.

rhea breathed “i called back up…we’re going back to the hotel…” she next to you.

only fifteen minutes away rhea spotted damian inside the building. waving at him she showed him where you were both sitting.

“rhea, what is he doing here?” you drunkly asked.

“you two need to figure out what you feel for each other…he’s gonna take care of you” she whispered as she saw damian approaching the two of you.

before you could contest her words, damian saw how lost your look was and eyed rhea, asking for questions but she simply shook her head.

“i called back up” she laughed seeing damian “thanks for coming” she greeted him as he nodded his head “he’s gonna help you…i’m gonna get back to the hotel”

damian was shocked with rhea’s words “wait what…you’re leaving?”

“yeah…that’s why i called you…you two, figure it out” she said before leaving.

as you both watched her leaving the club, you were wondering what did you have to figure out with damian. he was there just to help a friend - rhea, because she called him - and that was. nothing more.

he softly smiled at you “let’s get you into the car” as he gently helped you on your feet and guided you back to his car.

he made sure tu buckle your seat belt and he start driving. it was clear to anyone that you were drunk and he tried to drive cautiously, not wanting to make you sick.

“why are you here?” you asked, your eyes looking outside the window.

“rhea texted me…she was worried about you. you usually don’t drink and seeing you soo…drunk made her worry and honestly i worried too…” he spoke, his eyes still on the road.

“worried? you? worried about me?” you chuckled “why? it’s not like you care about me…we don’t even know each other that well…” you didn’t want to be so rude but your drunk thoughts were coming out and you didn’t know how to stop them.

damian was hurt by your words, but he knew that you were drunk and you didn’t mean what you actually said “i care about you…more than what you think” he whispered low just enough for you to hear it.

you heard his words, you just didn’t know what to say. you pretended nothing happened and he kept driving towards the hotel. once you arrived at the building, damian walked you through the long halls and reached for the elevator. you didn’t even notice that he pushed the bottom for his floor and not yours. you realised it only when you reached his room and you met with the welcoming feeling of his perfume and cologne.

“damian this isn’t my room…” you whispered as he sat you down on his bed.

“i know…i’m not leaving you alone tonight. you’re too drunk and if you get sick at least i’ll be here to help you” he said while throwing his shoes somewhere in the room.

was he serious? no - maybe he was just pitying you. he was doing this because rhea asked him, not because he really wanted. that was all your mind kept telling you while in reality damian wanted to take care of you. wanted to have you in his arms, cuddle you and making you feel safe. hell, he was going to hold your hair up in case you needed to throw up. and he never done that for anyone.

he sensed your hesitation “i meant it…what i say before, in the car, i meant every single word i said…” he said sitting next to you.

“but why?” your mind told you to stop asking him stupid questions and and savour the moment but your heart needed to know all the truth on my he was so caring with you. because, maybe, there was going to be a chance for you.

he gently cupped your face in his warm big hands and he smiled “because i have feelings for you. i love you and i always will…i care so much about you. and the fact that we are not even so close kills me because i never know if you’re okay or if you need help, if you’re happy or sad…i wanna be part of your life and i wanna be a part with being more than friends” his soft fingers stroked your cheeks making you lean into his touch.

“that’s all i’ve been waiting to hear…” you whispered. your confession surprising him. sure, you were drunk but not that drunk to say stupid things “i always liked you but i never thought you would like someone like me…”

“someone like you it’s all i want…you, it’s all i want…” he smiled, looking up at your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort but when he saw none, he leaned his lips over yours “i wanna kiss you”

“i might smell like alcohol but i wanna kiss you damian…please” you almost begged, making him laugh.

you felt his hot breath over your lips, gazing and teasing before he gently lowered his head down and finally kissed you. he was soft with you, his hands moving from your face to your hips, holding you closer as your hands lost in his long hair.

you both separated to catch breath and as you were staring in each other’s eyes you realised how stupid you were. two idiots in love - as rhea often said - that couldn’t understand that they both had feelings for the other.

“stay here tonight and let me take care of you…” damian whispered making you nod your head “i told rhea that monday nights at the club can be boring…i can’t believe you got that drunk” he smirked making you chuckle.

“it’s gonna be a long night, my head is about to explode” you joked, throwing yourself back into the bed.

it was a long night indeed. you complaining how bad your head hurt and being nauseous all the time but damian had you safe in his arms - and your hair safe in his hands as you threw up in the bathroom - you knew that you were going to be fine.

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