#and they literally say if the people ever leave the time loop and go into the modern day

[imminent-danger-came]

I really am so sad I don't like isat. The themeing was very good

[sahkuna]

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read to the end we're making out.

© do not copy/plagiarize/translate/use ai on my work.

[synthetic-sonata]

really awesome day to think everythings going alright and then you wake up and get hit in the face twice in a row

[freyadragonlord]

Recently I’ve been thinking about the different types of love languages in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, The S-Classes That I Raised, and Lout of the Count’s Family…

Not to say that each of the stories describes only one single kind of love language; they are, after all, all novels that focus on Found Family, with many different types of relationships between characters that express their love for each other in as many different ways.

Yet, I’ve noticed how at the core of each of these three stories there is one specific act of love that recurs more than others, and that becomes the true Theme each novel revolves around.

In Lout of the Count’s Family, the main love language is providing food and a home.

“Home” is such an important concept in LCF that Cale collects houses like they were pokemon cards. The source of his trauma when he was a child as Kim Roksu was that he was not given sufficient food, and that where he lived was not truly a shelter where he could feel safe, just a place he was trapped in.

And I don’t think there are ever more than 2 chapters in a row without a character offering food to others, or asking if they’re hungry, if they’ve eaten, why haven’t you eaten, here have some apple pie!!

Cale uses his newfound money and power to make sure his loved ones are provided for. That’s how he adopts bonds with most of his new family.

The first thing Raon does after he’s freed from the prison he’s been trapped in all his life, is to leave food for this hopelessly weak human.

Choi Han, who has lived alone in a dangerous forest for decades, would do anything to protect his home.

The Crown Prince, who has been isolated and untrusting of everyone ever since his mother died, makes sure to always have cookies in his bedroom in case guests “break in” for a visit at any time of the day or the night.

I love you, you’ll never be hungry again. I love you, my home is your home.

In The S-Classes That I Raised, the main love language is words.

Yoojin’s powers are literally activated by telling people “I love you”. Because all he ever wanted was to say “I love you” to his brother one last time.

Because the tragedy that starts the story happens because Yoohyun loved and protected his hyung in secret for years. Silence creates misunderstandings, it creates distance, it leads to loss.

Loving someone isn’t enough, tell them! Reassure them. Remember what they say, because their words are important!!

Ever since the regression, Yoojin always let people know when he loves them and appreciates them. “You’re perfect, you’re cute, you’re so talented, you’re so handsome, you are loved.”

And as the novel progresses, whenever Yoojin is in pain, or doesn’t know what to do, he turns to Sung Hyunje because he needs to be reassured, he needs to know he did well, he needs to hear he is still important to the people he loves.

I love you, please know that I love you! I love you, please tell me you love me back.

And finally, in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, the main love language is time.

Time is one of the greatest sources of horrors in ORV. Eternities upon eternities of suffering, being trapped for ages in the same, hopeless loop, wishing for everything to just stop.

And yet, time is also the greatest gift characters give to each other.

Because the wounds Dokja suffered as a child, and then again and again through his whole life…. They need time to heal. They need so much time. They will probably take forever.

So let them take forever.

Despite how much pain and worry he causes his companions by giving up on himself over and over again, his companions never give up on him. And he doesn’t understand why!! He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But it’s not his choice, it’s theirs. And they will go through as many tries, as much pain, as much time as it takes, before they can finally save him.

I love you, so I will wait fifty years for you. I love you, so I will live through thousands of lifetimes to find you. I love you, so I will read and reread your story for the rest of time, just to keep you alive.

[chlix]

to do what i can do

pairing: seungmin x f!reader

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6.1k

warnings: insecurity, light angst, exactly three (3) uses of "y/n"

synopsis: after a conversation with hyunjin's girlfriend, you grow worried that you aren't putting enough work and attention into your relationship. seungmin dissuades you of this idea immediately.

a/n: literally never done this before so sorry if this formatting isn't standard. also ignore any spelling errors pls <3

Seungmin kisses you goodbye every morning. It’s like clockwork: he puts on his shoes, pours his coffee in a mug, kisses you goodbye, and is out the door. Both of you are routine-oriented people. You like schedules and organized silverware drawers. Ever since you first got together, Seungmin has been kissing you goodbye whenever you part ways, and nearly a year later that hasn’t changed. It’s sweet that he always remembers, and the fact that it’s practiced doesn’t make it feel any less sincere.

This morning is more of the same. You get up before him, as always, and put the coffee on. You check your emails while your breakfast cooks. Seungmin emerges just as the food is done (too late to actually eat it, as always) and goes to get his coat and shoes from the door. He loops back around to put his coffee in the cup you washed the previous night and leans down to where you’re sitting at the table to kiss you lightly on the lips. It’s so rote as to be unnotable, but it makes you smile anyway, your day instantly brighter.

“I love you,” you call after him, as you always do, and Seungmin waves as he leaves, throwing a “Be safe!” over his shoulder.  And then the door closes, and you’re alone.

In a few minutes, you’ll go to work at your office job. Later, you’ll come home and make dinner. At some point in the day, Seungmin will text you to let you know if he’ll be coming home or not, so that you’ll know if you need to make one portion or two. You normally make two anyway, and just leave the second wrapped up in the fridge. If worst comes to worst, you don’t mind eating the leftovers. It’s far more horrible in your mind to not have food ready for him when he is home. It’s not that Seungmin expects food from you. He’s expressed multiple times that he can buy food on his way home. But you like cooking for him, and lately you don’t get much chance because he’s so busy. You want things to be perfect when he’s home because the time you get together is precious. You’re not obsessive about it, or anything. You’re not “playing housewife” as your friends sometimes say. It’s not a crime to want to take care of your boyfriend.

Right now is a bit of a hectic period, and you haven’t seen him much for a while. You were surprised he even had the time to come home the previous night, although of course you were grateful. When he does come home, he gives you his undivided attention, like you’re the only person on earth. It makes the wait worth it. And he kisses you goodbye every morning because he loves you, and you can feel it on your lips all day, and it assuages the loneliness you might otherwise feel.

Today you have lunch with Ahrin, Hyunjin’s girlfriend. You have good relationships with the partners of all the boys, but you’re a bit closer to Ahrin, maybe because you two are so similar. Ahrin is quieter than the other women, and is more content to observe rather than participate. She’s witty and sharp-tongued, but still kind, and has a gentleness to her that makes her easy to open up to. She calls you up and complains she hasn’t seen you in a while and asks to have a meal with you that afternoon. You haven’t been feeling work very much, and you do miss her, so you agree to take a late lunch and meet her a cafe near your office.

Ahrin is radiant as always, and you make small talk about your families before devolving into complaining about mundanities: annoyances at work and the price of fruit at the supermarket. As you’re speaking, you notice Ahrin is wearing a dainty gold necklace that you don’t recognize, and cut yourself off to ask about it.

“Oh, this? It’s Cartier. Hyunjin bought it for me,” she says, bringing a hand up to touch the small pendant like she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “He’s on this kick about couple’s jewelry.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, and you mean it. It suits Ahrin’s softness and sophistication. He may have bought it because it was Cartier, but he clearly put some thought into it besides the designer label.

“Thank you,” she says, genuinely pleased. “I try to wear something he bought me whenever I go visit him.”

“Are you going to see him today?”

“I just come from there, actually. He took my credit card in his wallet, so I had to go get it back.”

“Oldest trick in the book,” you say.

Ahrin rolls her eyes. “I know. But it’ll work every time. I can’t help that I need it to go about my day.”

She doesn’t sound the least bit bothered. Ahrin and Hyunjin have been together for two years, and it’s a trick he’s pulled ever since they started living together, the “accidentally taking one of Ahrin’s things to work.” You’ve asked her before why she doesn’t confront him about it, but she says that she thinks it’s cute how he keeps coming up with excuses to see her, and anyway, she also likes having excuses to see him.

You also think it’s cute, if in a more wistful way. Seungmin is organized to a T, and he’s never needed you to bring him something he’s forgotten or vice versa. In fact, you can’t remember if you’ve ever visited him at work at all. You don’t think it’s that strange, though. It’s not like he’s made a habit of showing up to your workplace. Also, you likely wouldn’t have the time even if he’d offered. It does dampen your mood a bit though, especially as Seungmin texts you in the middle of your conversation that he in fact, would not be coming home today, meaning you would have to eat dinner alone tonight.

Ahrin notices the dip in your mood as you set your phone back on the table.

“Bad news?” she asks.

You swipe the notification away.

“It’s nothing. Seungmin just texting me about how busy they are.”

Ahrin hums in understanding. “Well, what can you do. At least it’s not as crazy as it was a few months ago.”

“Isn’t it?” You’ve been seeing less of Seungmin than you had in ages, and you’d assumed it was because their schedules had been bordering on unbearable lately. But Ahrin looks confused at your question.

“I don’t think so. Busier than last month, yeah. But they’re not filming anything right now, so the schedule isn’t as rigid. Seungmin hasn’t talked to you about this?”

You feel embarrassed, somehow. “He doesn’t talk about work much when he’s with me. He likes to keep it separate.”

“That makes sense. You should ask him to share his schedule with you, though. What if you need him and you don’t know where he is, or when he’ll answer?”

“I know where he’s at, generally. He tells me if he’s traveling. I just don’t know the minutiae.”

“You’re allowed to know. You should, for your own peace of mind.”

It’s not that it hadn’t occurred to you to ask. Seungmin told you his whereabouts if you questioned him, and he even volunteered information every once in a while, so you hadn’t thought much of it. And you didn’t suspect him of cheating on you ever in a million years. You knew he had other hobbies and friends as well- a whole life outside you that you weren’t privy to and didn’t need to be. But was it possible you were being a bit too aloof about your boyfriends daily habits? Why didn’t he share what he was doing, if he wasn’t at work? Why didn’t you know?

“I’ll ask him,” you say. “You’re right.”

Ahrin smiles encouragingly, and the topic is dropped for other matters. The odd feeling in your stomach doesn’t settle, though, and by the time you’ve finished your day and sat down to eat dinner, you realize you’ve unfortunately lost your appetite.

Seungmin calls you the next day to say he’ll be staying at the dorm for several days, and you tell him okay, thanks for telling me, I love you, goodbye. After you hang up the phone, you berate yourself for not asking more questions. You’re his girlfriend. You should be care that he’s leaving you alone for days at a time, you think as you drive to work. Maybe he’d been waiting for you to ask what he’d be doing or pester him for spoilers about the group’s upcoming plans. Maybe he wanted you to pout and whine about missing him and beg him to come home. You’d never done any of those things before, but maybe you should be. Maybe he’d called you hoping you would do those things and had hung up the phone disappointed.

The central problem of dating an idol is always a scarcity of time. They’re always busy, and because they’re always busy, you as a partner need to have a life outside them that is full and fulfilling, and sometimes those two schedules conflict. You can go long stretches without spending meaningful time together, and it’s hard to cope with, especially when they’re within driving distance of you, but still inaccessible. You know, though, that a scarcity of time does not always mean a scarcity of attention. You’ve seen it in Ahrin and Hyunjin, in the Cartier necklace and the missing credit card, that Hyunjin thinks about Ahrin all the time, and Ahrin knows that he does, is thinking of him just as much if not more. She can languish in the thought that even if Hyunjin is not with her, he desperately wishes he was, and when she wears his necklaces and bracelets and $500 hair clips, Hyunjin knows she is also desperately thinking about him.

You and Seungmin don’t have a system like that. Seungmin isn’t in the habit of buying you expensive gifts, for starters. He’s frugal with his money, hyperaware that one day his youth and fame will fade, and he won’t have such extravagant income. You’re similarly pragmatic, and you’ve never resented him for this. And that’s not to say he never spends money on you. He buys you flowers and takes you on expensive dates. He bought you a new laptop and headphones without you saying anything, and your closet is full of fancy dresses that are each tied to a high class outing you’ve been on. For each one, he’d bought himself a shirt and jacket to match. But those aren’t things you wear every day to show off. They’re for special occasions, specific memories. There’s nothing you wear or carry daily that marks you as ‘his.’

And honestly, you’ve never really thought about yourself that way. You and Seungmin are together, and you live together (by whatever measure your living arrangements currently count as), but you’ve never longed to be “branded” in a way befitting a pair of earrings or an oversized sweater. You wear his clothes at home, but never out. You don’t feel the need to show up to his practices and recording sessions. You’ve never even asked if you were allowed. If Seungmin bought you a Cartier necklace, you aren’t totally sure you would wear it.

It hits you like a freight train when you put it all together: You don’t care enough about Seungmin. You’re comfortable with him, you feel like you love him, but you don’t care about him the way you’re supposed to care about him. You’re not involved enough. But then, the same goes for him too, doesn’t it? He knows what you do for work, but he rarely asks you about anything other than a cursory how was your day? He doesn’t pester you for anything, doesn’t ask you to visit him or stay up for him when he comes home late. Aren’t those things that he should expect from you as a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he care that you’re so obviously neglecting him? When he kisses you goodbye in the morning, is that because he misses you, or is that just a habit formed over these past months, a meaningless part of the morning ritual he couldn’t resist if he tried?

You feel caught in a lurch, unsure what to do now. Seungmin deserves better than you, clearly. He deserves a girlfriend who actually gives a fuck about his life. But maybe, if you start making up for it now, he’ll forgive the past few months of you being so terrible. He’ll realize that you are an attentive girlfriend, and that you do care about him and that you love him, and you can prove it, you swear, it took you a while to realize what was wrong but you’ve got it all straightened out now. 

You can change. You can fix this. You know you can.

-/-

The next time Seungmin comes home, you wake up first the next morning, like always. You go to put the coffee on, and you make breakfast, and you check your emails. Seungmin comes out, walks past you to his shoes and coat, and doubles back to get his morning coffee.

“Busy day today?” you ask.

Seungmin freezes in his movements, caught off guard by your question. He recovers quickly enough, and answers. “Not particularly. Vocal practice, some other things.”

“Oh, good. Do you think you’ll be home today then?”

Seungmin turns to face you, his cup abandoned on the counter, unfilled. “Is everything alright?”

“What?”

“Is something wrong? Do we need to talk?”

Oh god, it’s worse than you thought. Asking if he’s going to be home to eat dinner is enough for him to think something is amiss. Have you truly never asked him that before?

“Everything’s fine. It would just be nice to eat dinner with you, is all.”

Seungmin relaxes. He leans down to kiss you, but it lingers longer than normal, as if he’s savoring the touch, your attention. “I’ll do my best,” he promises. “I love you. Have a nice day.”

You absolutely blossom under his affection, the verbosity atypical for so early in the morning.

“I love you too. Be safe.”

“I always am,” he says, and presses another peck to your lips before pulling away. He finishes pouring his coffee, grabs his coat, and waves as he leaves. You sit at the table, vibrating with satisfaction. You’re doing it, you’re giving him what he needs. Maybe all hope isn’t lost for you two just yet.

Your sky-high mood follows you to work, and the day keeps getting better with the discovery of cupcakes in the break room. One of your coworkers’ kids just had a birthday, and they had way too much food left over. You take one back to your desk to nibble on while you work, and even the mundanity of your daily tasks can’t bring you down from how well this day is turning out. Around midmorning, it occurs to you that this is the perfect opportunity to do something else nice for Seungmin by bringing him cupcakes. They’re not filming, which means they’re not on diets, so he can handle a bit of sugar and frosting, especially if it’s a gift from you. You borrow a container from the staff kitchen to carry some cupcakes and decide to defer your own lunch to deliver them across the city.

When you get to the JYPE building, though, you realize you have no idea what to do. You’re fairly sure you’re allowed access; the other girlfriends pop in and out all the time. But it’s possible no one here recognizes you, since this is the first time you’ve shown your face around here.

Being spontaneous is cute and quirky, but standing around lost and embarrassed grows tiring within seconds. You give up and decide to text Seungmin.

Are you busy?, you send, standing awkwardly by the door and hoping security doesn’t throw you out. Thankfully, he responds quickly.

Not super. Do you need to call?

Actually I’m in the lobby of your building. Can you come down?

Typing, and then a pause. Then more typing. Eventually the message comes through.

Ok.

You can’t decode that at all. It strikes you for the first time that you may be bothering him by driving over here. You did ask if he was busy, though. And it stood to reason that if you had time for a 5-minute phone call, he had time to come downstairs and accept the gift you’d brought him. It isn’t intrusive. This is what people do for each other when they care about each other.

It only takes a few minutes for Seungmin to round the corner into the lobby. His face is creased in concern, even worse than he’d looked this morning, and he’s walking at a brisk pace to stand right in front of you.

“Hey,” he says. “What’s going on?”

You don’t know how to respond to his intensity, so you just hold out the container towards him. “I brought you cupcakes.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in utter confusion. “You…made cupcakes?”

“I didn’t make them. A coworker brought them in. But I remember you saying you liked cupcakes, and I had a free minute, so I thought I’d bring them over before they got finished.”

Seungmin accepts the box gingerly, as though it contains a nest of wild hornets, or lit sticks of dynamite. “You drove all the way over here to give this to me?”

Your doubts go from an inkling to a full-on tumult. “Yes, I did. I was just thinking of you…I thought you might like something sweet.”

You don’t mean to look dismayed, but Seungmin must clue-in to the fact that this isn’t the reaction you were hoping for. He shifts the box to one hand and laces your fingers together with his other.

“Thank you for thinking of me,” he says. “But you don’t need to go out of your way to bring me things.”

“It’s not out of my way. I had time.”

“Let me rephrase. You shouldn’t expend your lunch hour to bring me food. When are you going to eat now?”

“I’ll stay an extra half hour. It’s fine.”

Seungmin clearly isn’t satisfied with this. He tugs lightly on your arm, bidding you to follow, and you do, unsure of what else to do.

He takes you up a floor, and down a hallway to what seems to be a regular employee break room, where he gestures for you to sit down at one of the tables. You do, and he walks over to the fridge to get bottled water and brings back one for you, along with napkins and a knife from the drawer next to the fridge.

“If you aren’t going to eat lunch, you might as well share your spoils with me,” Seungmin says. He opens the container and takes out one of the cupcakes (and they are huge, to be honest, you kind of can’t believe they’re from a kid’s birthday party) and cuts it in half.

“Pick a side,” he says, and you do, and he carefully picks it up and lays it on a paper towel before sliding it towards you. He takes the other half, and you pick your desserts apart with your fingers. Seungmin tells an anecdote about Jeongin from their vocal lesson that morning. It’s…nice. You’re just spending time with your boyfriend, a quick stolen minute in the midst of your busy lives. The frosting is sickeningly sweet, and you find yourself reaching for the bottle of water without even thinking of it, and only later preen at the realization that Seungmin knew you would need to wash the artificial taste out and had brought you water preemptively. He knows you well enough to identify if something would suit your palette with only a glance.

Both of you don’t have much time to spare, so after fifteen minutes you wipe off your hands and clean off the table.

“I’ll bring the rest of these back upstairs,” he says. “They won’t last ten minutes once the others see them.”

“That’s fine. That’s what I was hoping for, actually.”

“And here I thought you brought these only for me,” he says, but his lips are curled up, teasing. He kisses you goodbye, like always, lips sugary-sweet and soft as cotton-candy. “Thank you for stopping by. I’ll see you tonight.”

Your heart grows three sizes. You’re on cloud nine. “Anytime,” you say.

That night you try very hard not to be an absolute freak about dinner. You cook nearly every day, so the cooking itself isn’t that special, but for some reason your usual rotation doesn’t feel good enough. Seungmin is coming home for the second day in a row, and you don’t want to reuse ingredients, or phone it in when you’d specifically asked him to come home. At the same time, a five-course meal is definitely doing way too much. You stop by the store on the way home and scan the shelves, before wrestling yourself into a compromise and getting ingredients for a meal you both enjoy, but you’re normally too lazy to bother after a long day at work. It’s nothing fancy, just time-consuming, but you’re in such high spirits that the labor doesn’t even feel harrowing.

Seungmin gets home a few minutes before you’re properly done, with the pot on the stove ticking down steadily as you wash dishes and spoons. Seungmin greets you as he walks in but vanishes quickly down the hall to shower and change into inside clothes. By the time he reappears, you’re all but done, and you’ve never been more satisfied with yourself as you dish the food into two bowls and set them on the table. Sure, maybe it’s “playing housewife” a little bit, but you don’t even care. If playing housewife is this rewarding, you might have to start doing it more often.

Seungmin raises his eyes as the dinner you prepared.

“Didn’t you complain that this is hard to make?” he asks. You shrug.

“Felt like cooking today,” is all you say. “No biggie.”

Seungmin sits down at the table, pushes his plate to the side, and looks directly at you. “Y/n. What’s going on?”

Anxiety shoots through you. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. I’m not oblivious. You’ve been acting off all day.”

“Off?”

“Visiting me at the company? Cooking this fancy dinner? It’s not like you at all.”

“That’s not me being ‘off.’ I just missed you, that’s all.”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Is that why?”

“No! I mean, you have. There is no ‘why’. Am I not allowed to miss my boyfriend?”

Seungmin looks distinctly unimpressed. “Nice try. Wanna go again?”

All your good humor from earlier is dissolving into your soup. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not mocking you.”

“I was trying to do something nice for you. I just wanted to spend time with you today. Is that so wrong?”

“It’s not wrong. It’s just unusual for you. When you told me you showed up at the company, I thought something horrible had happened, because you never visited me before.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“That I never visit.”

“Why would that bother me?”

All your anxieties are simmering near the top, threatening to boil over. “Because the other members’ girlfriends visit all the time. I know they do. They have security clearance and everything. But I never do. I don’t even know where you are most days if I wanted to visit you.”

Seungmin frowns. “You’re busy. You have a job you’re at all day, same as me. Some of the other members’ girlfriends work less or have other things going on.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” you mutter. “Maybe I have too much going on.”

Seungmin looks hesitant at this. “If you feel you need to cut back, I’ll support you.”

“Is that what you want? Do you think I should work less?”

“No, I don’t. That’s not my decision anyway.”

“But I just…” You’re cracking, you know you are, you can hear it in your voice- “I just want to be there for you more. I want to be attentive.”

“You are attentive. You’re there for me all the time.”

“I’m not!” It bursts out of you more violently than even you expected. Seungmin is taken aback, eyes widening as you finally break. “I’m so aloof towards you, it’s awful. I never know where you are, or what you’re doing. I never ask you to come home to me. I don’t stay up for you. I don’t visit you. Other girlfriends have bracelets or necklaces they wear for their boyfriends, and I don’t do any of that. No one would even know we were dating, based on how we are now.” You suck in a breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. “I just don’t even know what you get out of being with me. I don’t do anything I’m supposed to do, and you keep letting me get away with it. And I thought if I changed, and I started trying harder, maybe I could fix it before you realize that I don’t deserve you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, humiliation and sadness making you feel dizzy and hot. Now that you’ve said it all out, it sounds ridiculous. It’s not as if you could fix a behavioral pattern with one good day. If your relationship really is rotten through, all you’ve done is draw attention to the problem and made it even worse. Contrasted with how you acted today, the past eleven months must seem downright hollow.

Seungmin sighs. “Y/n, look at me, please.”

You open your eyes and are horrified to see Seungmin looking absolutely mournful where he sits across the table. He looks so aggrieved, so weighed down, and a horrible rock forms in the pit of your stomach.

“First of all,” he says. “I don’t ever want to hear you say again that you don’t deserve me. It’s not true, and I won’t have you putting yourself down like that. You don’t decide what I deserve, I do. And I’ve decided you’re exactly what I want.”

You blink, confused at the turn of events. It’s a very Seungmin thing to say, yes, but in this situation, you didn’t expect him to double down on it so earnestly.

“Second of all, you’re not aloof towards me. I know you love me, and you care for me in your own ways. I also know you have a life outside of me that keeps you busy. I’m grateful for that. I would feel horrible if you spent a significant amount of your day just waiting around for me when we both know I can’t always be there.”

“That’s different,” you can’t help but interject. “You’re an idol. You can’t help that you’re busy.”

“You can’t help being busy either. Being an idol isn’t any more important than any other job. You have responsibilities too.”

You deflate, sagging in your chair. He takes this as license to continue.

“Third, I didn’t think you were the type to wear jewelry every day. If you want me to get you something, I can do that. I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to wear something just because I bought it and it was expensive. Someday, if we get married, you’ll wear my ring, and that’ll be enough for me.”

He’s right. You don’t usually wear jewelry every day, and you would feel bad about not wearing something he’d specifically bought you as a gift. You’re starting to feel more and more foolish as this conversation continues.

Thankfully, his itemized list ends there, and he leans forward, dark eyes fixed on yours. He doesn’t look angry, or upset, just focused. Leave it to Seungmin to mind-map his way through a relationship crisis.

“Can you tell me what brought this on? It’s unlike you to be insecure. If I’ve done something to make you think you’re not good enough for me, I’d like to know so that I can change my behavior.”

You let out a long breath, giving up the fight in the face of Seungmin’s rationality.

“I had lunch with Ahrin the other day. I was complaining about how you’re so busy these days, I rarely see you. Ahrin said you guys actually haven’t been that busy. It made me realize I don’t actually know your schedule, like what you do all day, much less outside of work. And I also realized part of the reason I haven’t seen you much is because I never ask to see you. You have no reason to spend time with me when it seems like I don’t even want you around.” Your voice trails off as you continue, shame sticking the words in your throat.

Seungmin hums, thinking. He lifts his hand up and stretches it toward you, your sign to extend your own hand so he can lace your fingers together. You oblige, and the contact settles you a bit.

“I have never thought for one second that you didn’t want me around. I don’t take offense to you not knowing my schedule either. I know I don’t talk about work much. It might be a flaw of mine.”

“Hyunjin is always playing these little games with Ahrin to get her to come see him. But I’ve always felt that you’d prefer I stay away when you’re working.”

Seungmin hesitates again. “That might be right. That’s not because I don’t love spending time with you, though. It’s the opposite.”

“I…don’t follow.”

“Whatever you believe, the other members’ partners don’t really come around all that much, but when they do come around, it’s not really a big event. They’re just spectators. Like when Ahrin visits us at practice, it’s easy for Hyunjin to pretend she’s not there and keep working. I couldn’t do that. If you were in the room with me, I don’t think I could be as focused as I normally am. I’d be distracted because all my attention would be on you and how you’re doing. That’s why I’ve never encouraged you to visit.”

A small hysterical part of you wants to twist his words somehow, to start a fight about him calling you a ‘distraction’ and all it implies, but you know what he meant. It’s a fairly big admission he’s given, that he couldn’t keep control of himself if you were in his eyeline. It’s…unexpectedly flattering.

“I fluster you that badly?” you ask, half-teasing, half-curious. But Seungmin answers you dead serious.

“Embarrassingly so. When I went back upstairs with the cupcakes, Minho-hyung didn’t give me a second to breathe before commenting on it.”

You find yourself grinning. “Really?”

“Don’t laugh at me. It’s unkind.”

“I’m not laughing,” you say, even though you definitely are. Seungmin rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat or embarrassment in them.

“You could at least be sorry about it.”

“I’m very sorry that I got you bullied by your bandmates,” you say dutifully. “I promise I will do my best not to place you in such a compromising position again.”

“You can visit me if you want,” Seungmin rebuffs. “I can take a little teasing if you really want to see me. My point is just that you shouldn’t feel like you have to because the other girlfriends do.”

“Okay.” You nod, then venture out into the part of the conversation you’ve been avoiding. “If that’s all true, why do you stay away so often? It’s okay if you just have other things to do, but why do you let me think you’re at work if you aren’t?”

You aren’t sure what he’s going to say to this. You believe in his loyalty, always, and you don’t think he truly intended to lie to you, but you still can’t figure out who’s to blame here, and how this miscommunication has persisted between you for so long.

To your surprise, Seungmin’s ears flare red. His grip tightens on your hand, like he’s fighting himself, but you can tell he answers you honestly when he says,

“I was worried I was imposing on you.”

You blink. “Imposing?”

Seungmin is no longer meeting your eyes, his gaze lowered to the table. “Like I said, I don’t want you to constantly be waiting around for me. I don’t want you to get used to having me around, and then when I go on tour, or get busy with activities, you feel my absence stronger. Then, when I come back, I become an inconvenience as you try to fit me into your life again. It’s hard, and it’s unfair. I thought it would be easier to try to keep the same level of involvement all the time, so that you didn’t miss me too badly when I was gone, and I didn’t annoy you too much when I came back.”

You hardly let him finish his sentence before you say, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You keep your attention from me so that I won’t miss you later? How does that make any sense? I miss you regardless. That’s the point of being in a relationship.”

Seungmin winces, and you decide to dial back your indignance. He’d spoken to you evenly, and you could do the same for him.

“Sorry. I just meant that you shouldn’t keep yourself away from me in an effort to spare my feelings. I know what I signed up for when we started dating. I know some times will be easier than others. I appreciate your efforts to mitigate that, but this isn’t the way. You being gone so often is all the more reason to be overt and intense when we do have time together. It’s fine to not want to spend all your free time with me, but don’t ever think wanting to be around me is imposing, or hurting me in some way, because it’s not.”

Seungmin looks properly chastised. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be around more.”

“And I’ll ask for you more. We both need to stop holding ourselves and each other back.” You let out a little laugh. “We’re acting like it’s embarrassing to be in love or something.”

“Hyunjin said the same thing to me once.”

“Hyunjin is smart in exactly one area,” you acquiesce. “Ahrin is a lucky girl.”

“Comparison is the thief of joy,” Seungmin mutters. You lean forward over your cold dinner and press a kiss to Seungmin’s cheek.

“I didn’t say she was luckier than me.”

You both grin.

-/-

Next week, Monday. You wake up at your usual time, put on coffee, make breakfast. You clear your entire inbox because fuck the sales department, they can say whatever they need to say in the meeting this afternoon. You set your phone down and enjoy the warmth of the tea you brewed and watch the sun come up outside your living room window.

Seungmin gets up, gets his shoes and coat, and doubles back around.

“Good morning,” you say.

“Good morning.”

“Busy day?”

“Nope. I’m free after lunch.”

“Lucky. I have an awful meeting from two to four.”

“You’ll do fine,” Seungmin says. “Sales isn’t the boss of you.”

“They actually are,” you groan, and Seungmin laughs at your dismay. He kisses you goodbye, tells you to be safe. You tell him you love him. The front door opens and closes.

At around 1pm, your phone buzzes with a text.

Are you busy?

Eh. Why?

I’m in your lobby.

No way.

You grab your security pass and head towards the elevators, watching every floor tick down until it lets you out on the ground floor. Seungmin is sitting in a chair in reception, holding a white cardboard box. When he sees you approach him, he grins and holds it up.

“Got time for cupcakes?”

Your smile is so wide it’s splitting your face in half. “Follow me. The break room is on the fourth floor.”

-/-

“I didn’t even know you knew what building I work in.”

“I looked it up on NAVER.”

“Of course you did.”

“Why reinvent the wheel when someone invented the iPhone, y/n.”

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 14

This took. So long. I'm so sorry OTL But!!! It's done! I hope you all enjoy it! This chapter was suppose to be around 3000 words. It ended up being twice as long. Oops haha. I hope you all like this chapter though! Hopefully the next one won't take near as long (❁´◡`❁)

Summary: It was finally time for you to head home, but it seems Dracula wants to at least make sure you are healthy and safe before you go. A shame after you leave all your anxieties seem to hit you all at once...

CW: Anxiety attacks, slight mental breakdown, mentions of abusive relatives, brief mentions of injury, blossoming feelings

Word Count: 6384 Words!

Like this story? Please consider checking me out here! Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Taglist: @sisterofsin29 @str4wbang3l @nikkilovemark @ms-bakugo-blog @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

The @ 's are acting funky, so please lemme know if they work, or if i forgot anyone! Tumblr is not wanting to work properly as i finish this >:(

First: Here

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You were beginning to wonder if your life was a party, and you were the piñata.

In the span of less than a literal week, you had your shit kicked in since you couldn’t just fight off your step family, and accidentally revived an ancient ‘evil’ vampire that was your family’s immortal enemy.

Said immortal enemy then has tended to your health, Death threatened you, and now you somehow, by some stroke of luck, have convinced Dracula not to destroy all of humanity.

It… confused you.

Perhaps this really was a dream? Maybe you were actually still bleeding out on the floor of the castle or your bedroom?

By all means, you expected to possibly be dead after Dracula mentioned wanting to talk. You were in a way, ready to accept such a fate.

But his willingness to hear you out, and perhaps try not to kill people threw you for a loop.

A big loop.

One that had you questioning a lot, if you were being honest with yourself.

Had it always been that easy? Or were you genuinely just a special case? He did say he found you in particular fascinating.

One of your hands came up to rub your face as you felt your cheeks warm at the thought.

…Why did you have to find that kinda hot? Whatever, that wasn’t the point-

To be fair, given that the situation leading up to this point had already been weird and unusual, presumably even by your family’s standards. You doubted any of them would have had picnics with Dracula’s statue and run to his castle while critically injured.

But… you honestly couldn’t believe it was real. Dracula actually agreed not to try to destroy humanity. Somewhat.

Of course, that was his word alone, but…

…When you shook his hand, you couldn’t help but feel as if you had made a deal with the devil itself.

It was as if a part of you had a feeling deep in your chest that he would abide by the terms you both set.

But if you were being honest with yourself… you didn’t know if you could believe this. That the fact you even got him to agree was real.

You spent so much time worrying about it. Even before you ever found his statue, you had nightmares and days worrying about how you would handle Dracula if you had to confront him.

Was it all some plot? Some plan to make it hurt after betraying you?

Those pesky thoughts lingered, but you found it hard to believe them. Despite how often they popped up in your head, it was easy to counter them.

After all, why keep the Belmont alive after being slain so many times?

There were multiple opportunities to hurt you, kill you, torture you. Hell, if he wanted you as a prisoner, he didn’t have to give you such a lavish guest room.

Perhaps it was the fact everything you had been raised to believe at this point was now being called into question? After all, with everything happening, it felt like your world was spinning at a thousand miles an hour.

A part of you was probably also in shock.

Sure, your life has been hell up to this point, but it had a normalcy to it. You could expect to deal with dumb shit at home, and to fight evil monsters that were some of the worst of their kind when you did get to hunt.

It wasn’t fun, but it was normal.

This though? All the things you had happening to you?

Not normal at all, and it was hard to think.

Or maybe a bit too easy to do so.

It was as if a flood of thoughts swam in your mind, yet it was hard to comprehend so many of them.

“...At least the bed is comfy.” you mumbled, staring into the ceiling as you tried to calm your nerves. You still hadn’t completely calmed down since Dracula had talked to you.

Dracula had left not too long ago after you reached a… stable compromise?

He had said something about needing to check on some things, and to prepare to tell everyone about the deal you both came to.

You wondered just how much chaos that would stir.

A part of you felt a bit guilty. No doubt Dracula would have a lot of anger to deal with from some of his servants and the like. Many were already on edge with you just staying here, so you imagined the news wouldn’t go down without some outcry.

It was no secret many followed Dracula for his power, but it was also a well known fact many followed him because they hated humans. Hated hunters.

Though you doubted any public outbursts would be tolerated. Dracula no doubt would handle everything. You hoped.

If you were being honest though, a small part of you wanted to see the reaction on some of his servant’s faces. You bet some of the jaw dropping looks would be one to remember for years to come.

Unfortunately, you probably wouldn’t even be here to witness it.

Even if by some miracle you managed to possibly hold off the destruction of the world, you still had to deal with your step family, after all. Jason was already making your step brothers inquire about you, which was never a good sign.

You were lucky they backed off this long, and would probably give you a little longer before growing too restless.

After all, you did give them a bit of an ass kicking. Even if it was at the cost of your own health and mental well being, it was a long time coming.

That, and you doubted you would get such an opportunity so soon in the future. Best enjoy it before heading back and become their punching bag once again.

At least you probably wouldn’t have to worry about them trying to jump you like that any time soon. The fact they seemed to almost intentionally try and fatally injure you… it settled uncomfortably in your core.

Given you were willing to actually defend yourself for once, perhaps they won’t attempt something stupid like that again.

Despite that, you didn’t want to get your hopes up, either. Even if you showed you wouldn’t take a beating to that degree without fighting back, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get creative with it for a possible next time.

Still, that didn’t change the fact you still had to go home. Sooner rather than later.

But… you’d be back. Hopefully.

That was one of the conditions Dracula asked for. He wanted you to come back. He wanted to see you again.

You tried not to think too deep about it. Surely, it was both to help keep the compromise in place, and to learn more about the current century, and all he had missed?

A part of you though couldn’t help but… daydream about the idea of him just wanting to see you. For you.

He said he found you fascinating, after all. But again, a part of you didn’t want to think too hard about it.

For all you knew, his version of ‘fascinating’ was simply seeing you as some sort of entertaining bug or something. Should you become a pest, all he had to do was squish you with his shoe.

…You didn’t want to believe that either, though. Not with how those ruby red eyes looked at you when he first was freed. How he asked who had hurt you.

The very thought of that moment had your heart racing again.

“Am I really that emotionally starved?” you mumbled to yourself once again. That question had been popping in your mind the more you thought about it, and how just one man/vampire made you flustered like a teenager having a crush.

When was the last time anyone had looked you in the eyes while injured, and asked who had hurt you? Then took care of you?

You hated to admit it, but Dracula had charm that a lot of people didn’t have nowadays. Or at least from most people you have met up to this point.

No doubt he had to have had it in order to be considered the King of the Night. You don’t just get that without some sort of charisma, you’d think.

…A part of you was going to miss it. You really had to return home, which is why you were dreading sleep.

Tomorrow you would head home. You would be back here, of course. A part of the agreement, after all.

But you didn’t want to go, almost like a small child not wanting to go to school.

“Ugh.”

Your chest pinged with anxiety every time you closed your eyes. It was hard to even relax enough just to rest.

–

By the time you felt your phone buzzing with an alarm to wake you up, you had nothing to show for what you ‘slept’, except for a migraine and a brewing anxiety attack.

Eyes heavy, you sat up in bed. A bed you were very much going to miss.

Even now, as you shuffled out of bed towards your bag, you could already feel yourself yearning to stay. Like a child who felt unwell and wanted to skip school, except 20x worse.

Grabbing your bag, you quickly went through the stuff you had, making sure everything was still here.

You trusted Dracula just fine with your bag, but you didn’t trust any other entity in this castle to not try and pull a fast one on you.

As much as it felt like some sort of Looney Tunes plot, you weren’t gonna put it past some disgruntled monster or entity to put a stick of dynamite in your bag or something hoping to blow you up.

Thankfully, you didn’t have much on you to begin with, but it didn’t hurt to be sure.

Tossing your bag to the side, you ran a hand over your face, trying to soothe your head and anxieties.

However, you nearly jumped when you heard a specific knock on the door. That same one you had grown familiar with.

Just how had Dracula known you were awake? Was he just guessing, or did he know? Did the castle tell him?

…Or perhaps he heard you thumping around. That was also possible. You decided not to think too much on it at the moment.

“Come in.”

The doorknob turned, before the door was pushed open, revealing Dracula himself.

He entered your room, giving you a polite nod before closing the door behind him, and walking up to the bed. Much like before, he pulled a chair close and sat in front of you.

A part of you wondered if he was doing that to seem more on an equal level as you, though you didn’t dare ask or point it out.

Getting comfortable, Dracula’s eyes seemed to see through you as he settled. Those ruby red eyes practically pierced you, and he didn’t even have to say a word for you to feel a bit small.

Yet, his words next were so gentle.

“How are you feeling?”

Despite it all, a small smile appeared on your face at his question. Your eyes dropped, and you looked over to the side.

“I’ll live. Head kinda hurts, and I didn’t sleep too well. A me issue, don’t worry.”

A flicker of a frown appeared on his face, before his face cooled back to a more neutral look.

“I see. What about your wounds? Any irritation? Are the stitches still holding up?”

You tried to ignore the warm feeling bubbling in your chest again at his concern, despite how hard it seemed to persist.

“They are healing nicely. I only feel a dull ache now compared to the pain I was in a few days ago.”

It was true. You barely felt your wounds compared to how you felt when you arrived. Dracula had done a lot to help them heal, going farther than most people have for you.

Dracula though, looked over your body, his eyes lingering where your wounds lay.

“May I see? I would like to check on them myself.”

Blinking, you leaned back onto the bed slightly, not too surprised.

“Yeah, sure. Here-”

Immediately, he was up from his chair, gently hovering over you from a slight distance. Far enough away to still give you some personal space, yet close enough to check over you.

He was quick, yet still just as gentle. It didn’t take much for him to remove your bandages, and look over your healing injuries, making sure to look over them thoroughly.

You hoped he didn’t think anything of the goosebumps showing up on your skin whenever his hands or nails briefly brushed against your skin. Hopefully he would assume you were chilled from the air, or were reacting to how cool his own skin was.

Another part of you hoped that thinking didn’t seem too pathetic.

And in an even deeper part of your mind… a part of you wondered what he would do if he did think you liked his touch. That was a part of your mind you tried not to linger on too much while Dracula’s face was less than a foot away from your own.

Dracula hummed a bit as he checked over your worst injuries, as well as your head injury. You may not have known him long, but you could assume he seemed pleased with your progress.

Most of your wounds had mostly healed up into scabs, instead of raw and fresh ripped flesh. Something that no doubt would have taken at least two weeks on its own without the help of the few potions Dracula has been giving you.

It would still take some time for them to completely heal, but you were no longer at a huge risk of infection, or had to stay in bed to heal.

Truly, you owed Dracula a great debt. Another thing you were… feeling odd about.

Before you could dwell too much on it though, Dracula was carefully placing your bandages back on.

“Good. They are healing quickly. I’m pleased with your progress.”

You gave him a smile as he sat back down, trying not to soak in his words too much. You were happy he was happy with your healing! A totally normal thing to want and achieve!

While you were trying to mentally downplay the buzz in your head from his ‘praise’, Dracula’s eyes looked over to your bag, which sat innocently on the bed next to you.

“Ah, were you still planning on returning to your home today?” he suddenly asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.

Trying to keep your anxiety about the mere thought of your ‘home’ in check, you nodded.

“Yeah, if I am away too long, it could cause some issues. It’s best if I leave today.”

Dracula leaned against his hand, his other on thrumming against the arm of the chair. You wondered if that was something he did often.

“And you’ll return?”

You nodded quickly.

“Of course. We agreed on that, right? Though…” you began, your hands playing with your shirt, “...It may take me a few weeks to a month to come back, but I will be back.”

Giving you a look, Dracula’s expression turned almost teasing.

“I would hope so, I would hate to have to hunt you down myself, Little Belmont.”

His tone was clearly joking in nature, with his lips curling into a grin that showed off his fangs.

You chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of your neck. However, the way he said it had heat rushing to your face.

God, why did you like the sound of that? Why? Why did your brain like it so much? You swear there had to be a deity out there who found your suffering hilarious.

You didn’t think you would be finding so much stuff about yourself when you arrived here a few days ago. Apparently you had interesting tastes, and were into things you hadn’t even considered before now.

No doubt you would be unpacking a lot of that later, possibly in the middle of a mental breakdown. It was too soon to tell.

Coughing a bit to try and stop those thoughts, you looked back at Dracula.

“Regardless, I will try to be here next month. I should be healed by then too…” You spoke, mumbling that last bit. Dracula gave you an odd look, and you had a feeling he wasn’t too sure of that, just as you were.

Sighing, Dracula then stood up, and much to your surprise, held a hand out to you. You stared at it for a moment, before looking back at his face as he began to speak.

“Well, are you ready to leave? If so, I shall escort you out myself.”

Your eyes flickered to his hand, which was still outstretched to you. After a moment, you took it.

“Trying to get rid of me so soon?” you joked, ignoring how your smaller, warmer hand easily slid into his larger, cooler one.

Dracula’s lips twitched upward as his hand gently curled around your own.

“Maybe I am? Someone has to get rid of the ‘Scary Vampire Hunter’ apparently haunting my castle.”

His words were pure jest, and that had the small smile on your face widening as he gently pulled you up to your feet.

“Can you walk?” He then asked, still clearly worried over you leaving so soon. You managed to stand on your feet without too much issue, and looked back up at him.

“Eh, I’m still a bit sore, but I can walk. I’ll be fine.”

It still actually hurt quite a bit, but hey, you have had worse.

Dracula also didn’t seem very convinced, but at this point, who was he to argue with you when you wished to leave?

Regardless, you were still a bit surprised to see him offer an arm to you after you managed to gain your balance.

“May I?”

Seeing Dracula offer his arm to you did not help the blossoming feelings in your chest. Why did the man who was humanity’s greatest enemy have to be such a gentleman??

Your face was hot, and you prayed to whatever god was listening that your blush wasn’t too noticeable.

“S-Sure.” You spoke, mentally hitting yourself with a hammer for stuttering.

Slowly, you reached out, nearly hesitating as your hand neared his arm. Gathering your resolve, you gently wrapped your own arm around his own.

He wasn’t as cold as you expected, despite him wearing a long sleeved shirt. Though it was hard for you to think as you registered just how big he was as you felt his muscles underneath said shirt.

Then, you nearly jumped when your bag was suddenly hovering in front of your face. You had nearly forgotten it on the bed behind you. Carefully, you grabbed it with your free hand with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“It is no issue at all. Shall we?” He spoke, looking down at you.

Oh stars, how he made you feel small.

“Yes.”

With that, he gently walked to the door, opening it with a flick of his wrist, and leading you out into the hall.

His pace was most likely slow for himself, given you were positive his stride easily would outdo yours. However, Dracula took his time so you could easily keep up.

You found you didn’t particularly mind. If anything, it gave you the perfect opportunity to admire the decor of his castle.

Castlevania had been described in many different ways from the journals you had read. Some said horrifying and confusing, while others spoke of it as if it were gorgeous, yet almost fake feeling.

You found yourself mentally describing it as hauntingly beautiful.

Just the hall outside your room was nothing less than extravagant. Dark red curtains hung above the giant windows that seemed to lead to a courtyard, while painting after painting adorned the walls between each window.

Each painting was unfamiliar to you, but they still astounded you all the same.

Dracula noticed your awe, and his lips curled into a smile.

“The castle, being connected to me, usually inherits my tastes. Though I’ve noticed it has a fondness for decorating on its own, and even has preferences. For instance…”

He paused in front of one of the massive windows overlooking a garden.

“The gardens always look a bit different, but it is fond of giant fountains. Nearly every iteration has one without my interference, though it is pleasing to see.”

You tried not to giggle at that. The thought of a sentient castle being fond of giant fountains and having decoration preferences was so silly, yet given what you were looking at, was very possible.

Dracula and you didn’t linger long at the window, but after that, Dracula almost enthusiastically pointed out different decorations and what some of them meant to him.

It was little things, such as his tastes in candelabras, or the story behind every other painting. Apparently there were many immortals who dabbled in the arts.

You wouldn’t lie. Walking through his castle was very… surreal.

This was a place you were supposed to storm through. A place you were supposed to look at with disgust and revulsion.

Yet, you were fascinated, despite being on edge.

Only one of your ancestors remarked on the beauty the castle had. Juste, you think was his name.

Juste had written how the castle had a strange charm to it, among all the horrors he saw. Apparently he had an eye for detail and decor, and briefly wrote about how he had found it fascinating before destroying Dracula’s wraith, thus destroying the castle.

You could kind of see what he meant now that you were seeing it first hand, even if it was most likely incredibly different than when your ancestor had run through here.

It didn’t take as long as you thought to get to the entrance hall, which was covered with a lush red carpet, and filled with different displays and extravagant furniture.

A part of you wondered if this was what some castles were like hundreds of years ago, just with a more modern touch. Maybe he’d tell you one day?

After all, you agreed to come back. You’d hopefully have plenty of opportunities for questions.

One thing though you did notice walking through the entry hall, was the uptick of monsters.

There were suits of armor you passed, where you could sense enchantments on them, each standing at attention.

That, and maids were here and there, cleaning or tidying up. You could tell most weren’t human just by looking at them, but that was none of your concern. At least not at the moment, so long as they didn’t attack you.

They kept their distance, but you felt all their stares. Some looked at you curious, before averting their eyes. While others gave you cold smiles. You suppose you didn’t blame them.

Ignoring their looks, you felt your heart pound in your chest the closer you got to the massive door.

It looked different.

Instead of a worn down door that looked as if it had been left to rot, was a magnificent massive door that looked warm and taken care of.

And imposing. Very imposing.

Then again, that was most likely the point, even if you were looking at it from the inside. You could only wonder how it looked outside…

You didn’t have to wonder long. The moment you both approached the giant door, it opened completely on its own, as if the castle itself was opening the door for its master.

Despite having been around Dracula a little bit, his impressive feats of magic and mastery over the castle still seemed to awe you.

A part of you also wondered if he was doing that on purpose to show off. You wouldn’t be surprised with how he would occasionally look at you after doing something with magic.

Magic itself wasn’t new to you, but all that he could do? Especially when it wasn’t combat related? It was a bit impressive, you’d admit it.

As he walked you through the large doorway, you noticed the courtyard between the entrance and the gate had also changed. What was overgrown, wild shrubbery and trees was now a full garden. The plants seemed alive, but in a way that was almost… unreal.

He guided you through the courtyard, his arm still entwined with your own.

It didn’t take long before you were at the gate, and he came to a stop. Looking down at you, he posed a question that had your heart thrum in your chest.

“Is this fine, or do you require assistance to your cabin?”

His question caught you off guard slightly. You hadn’t anticipated him asking, nor had you thought that far.

“N-No, I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

A part of you really really wanted to say yes, so this moment lasted a while longer. So you didn’t have to say farewell.

But the rational part of you screamed no. Even if you somewhat trusted this man, were you ready to let him know about your cabin? How to approach it? What if you both were followed? Did you want anyone possibly seeing any weaknesses in your defenses?

No, the hunter in your brain won out. You couldn’t risk anyone finding your defenses, or rummaging through the one sanctuary you had.

You just hoped Dracula wouldn’t take it personally if he or one of his underlings investigated your cabin and exploded or something from one of the traps or wards.

Dracula meanwhile gave you a long look. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say it was disappointment you saw in those ruby colored eyes of his. With a sigh, he gently let your arm go from his own, turning to face you properly.

“Very well. I shall await your inevitable return. Do not keep me waiting too long, Little Belmont.”

You already missed him. How?

Slowly, you nodded your head.

“Of course. Um…”

A part of you felt so awkward already.

“See you soon?”

Mentally, you were smacking your head against the wall. Did you really just tell the Lord of Darkness ‘see you soon’? You wanted to explode.

However, most of your embarrassment almost melted completely away when he gave you a small smile.

“Indeed. See you soon.”

You stared at him for a moment, you both seemingly unable to look away. It wasn’t until a rumble of thunder broke your gaze away, and you stared at the long walk at the edge of the lake you would have to trek.

With a sigh, you turned, and began to walk.

Already, you were regretting not taking him up on his offer. But it had to be done this way.

RIght?

Your heart was heavy in your chest as you pushed forward with every step. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back as you crossed the edge of the lake towards the forest.

At least, you couldn’t until you reached the edge of the clearing.

Already you were tired, but you couldn’t help but finally look back behind you. Back towards Dracula’s castle.

Your eyes widened when you did.

The castle, something that should have horrified you, was gorgeous surrounded by clouds and the forest. Its image even seemed to eerily reflect back at the lake despite the clouds above.

And Dracula remained in front of it, watching you.

It was hard to see from so far away, but you could just barely make out his cloak spiraling out behind him in the wind. He was watching you leave.

Was it to make sure you were really fine? Was it genuine concern? Why else would he watch over you while you left?

…Did he actually enjoy your company? Did he already miss it?

It took more effort than you would like to admit to swallow down the warmth bubbling in your chest.

How silly.

No need to get your hopes up. You hoped that at least a few days away from this place might clear your head. Surely that’ll make these confusing feelings go away. Right? Right?

You just hoped this wouldn’t mess up how you perceived your cabin… You already came to terms with your sanctuary being next to an empty castle. Now it is alive, and its king has an interest in you and your motivations.

With a sigh, and one last long look at the castle (and its owner out front), you turned back to the woods.

Each step back was heavy, and you felt as if you were in a daze. If it weren’t for the fact you had been bewitched before and knew how it felt, you would have wondered if you had been enthralled by some sort of spell.

At least you were self aware enough to walk back to your peaceful abode with caution.

You checked your traps as you went, watching your step as you did so. Thankfully, most were undisturbed except for one or two traps. Those you suspect were simply disturbed by animals rather than monsters looking for a meal.

Well, you at least hoped that was the case. You didn’t sense any paranormal residue of any sort, but that wasn’t a guarantee…

Still, you took enough time to go over most you came across, and as your cabin came into view, you checked around the building.

It was tiring, but quick with how your mind was still a buzz. At least nothing seemed out of place.

Just… a few blood stains from when you were here last and critically injured. Oops.

You sighed, debating if you should leave it as a problem for future you. Not like this place and your home were lacking in blood stains if you looked hard enough. What were a few more?

Still, you didn’t just want to leave it there, so you at least cleaned it up a little bit so you wouldn’t come back to a gross smell. Well, at least a worse smell, anyway. The blood didn’t do your cabin any favors, but hey, it could be worse.

You’d clean it properly and make it spotless when you came back. Eventually. Hopefully. Maybe.

Whatever.

It didn’t take long, but it was clear what you were doing. Trying to keep yourself distracted while in this fog. Trying to buy time before you head home. Buying time before the reality of everything that had happened hit you.

You didn’t get as much time as you would have liked.

Thankfully, since everything else in your cabin was untouched after a quick sweep, you didn’t take much longer to leave said cabin. Even if you wanted more time, it was a weight off your shoulders that you didn’t have to worry about anything being… tampered with.

All you had to do was toss your bag in your car, set your whip aside, and drive off.

Should you be driving while in such a state? No, but you didn’t exactly have the luxury of keeping your home waiting much longer.

The drive itself wasn’t long, or at least, it didn’t feel like it. With each mile, the clouds began to part, and the sun began to shine. It was almost insane how much reach the castle had in terms of weather.

Or was it Dracula’s influence? You wondered if he’d tell you if you asked next time you saw him.

Next time. Right.

Your grip on the wheel tightened, and you could feel your anxiety peaking as you drove further from the cabin. From the castle. Only to grow closer to your home.

…Would they all be there? Your step family?

Dread was already pooling in your gut as you imagined them waiting for you at home. Would they be extra pissed? Would they do something reckless?

With the shit they pulled last time… You weren’t so sure you would be safe. Even if you scared them a bit, you feared you only pissed them off more. If they were willing to fatally injure you so blatantly in ‘training’...

You feared what they might do since they didn’t succeed, and you couldn’t do a thing about it until they acted.

Sweat began to form on your temple as your heart uncomfortably began to beat faster. You felt ill. Felt like you were cornered by a pack of werewolves who were starved for a meal, and you weren’t even at your house yet.

Yet as your city came into view, you felt worse.

Would they scream at you? Yell at you? Call you worthless?

Or would Jason lash out, and finally attack you? You knew he had been holding himself back, but after last time…

What about your home? Was it in good condition? Or did they start destroying things? You wouldn’t be surprised if your room was destroyed.

Worse… would they kick you out?

You had no real legal standing if they kicked you out. All your family’s artifacts, weapons, and history… gone.

They would never give it back to you, or any of your living family members across the globe. No doubt they would simply will everything to themselves if anything happened to one of them.

Why did your mother leave everything to them?

It wasn’t fair.

You were beginning to feel even worse thinking about it.

Still, you forced yourself to swallow what felt like bile rising from your throat as you pulled onto your street outside of the city. Getting sick wouldn’t solve any of your problems, and would most likely make things worse.

But you could barely fight the rising panic as your family home came into view.

It was never so daunting and imposing before now. A place filled with light in your childhood now brought you nothing but terror and anxiety just looking at it as you drove closer.

As you pulled into your driveway though, you paused, and stopped your car.

No cars were outside.

No cars were outside.

No cars in the driveway or out front, and if you were lucky, not in the garage either. But at least your step brothers were gone.

The way your body practically sagged in relief. Even if somehow Jason was home, that was better than having to confront all three at the same time after getting back right away.

Taking a deep breath, you turned off the engine, and climbed out of the car. You only grabbed your bag, keeping anything else locked inside.

It took a few moments to gather your courage, before you slowly unlocked and opened the front door.

You waited a few moments, holding your breath as each tense moment passed.

Nothing.

It was dark, and you heard all the familiar creaks, but no footsteps. No sounds of a TV. No talking in the distance.

Carefully, you stepped inside, and quietly closed the door behind you.

There was still nothing.

Were you truly home alone?

A part of you wanted to relax, but the hunter in you stayed alert. With silent footsteps, you headed to the garage just to be safe. There was no one on the way there, and when you opened the garage door?

Nothing.

Closing it, you laid your back against the door, hand over your heart as you tried to calm down.

You were actually home alone for once.

Did they have a hunt? Need supplies and go shopping since you were gone?

Either way, it didn’t matter. You were home alone, and that was most important at the moment. You could let your guard down for a little while.

At least, until whenever they came home.

With a huge weight temporarily off your shoulders, you made your way to your room, a small plan in mind.

First, you needed to change clothes. You were thankful for the clothes Dracula had lent you, but… what you had on was a little dated. Even if you liked how the loose, puffy shirt looked on you, and the comfortable pants… No doubt there would be questions why you were wearing clothing that was popular in a different century.

Then you needed to shower, and write down some stuff you needed to do going forward. Maybe even get some sleep before anyone gets home…

Sitting down on your bed with a messy plan in mind, you reached into your bag to get your dirty clothes out for you to wash later.

As you rummaged through it, you froze when you felt something new inside it.

Thoughts ran through your mind as your blood ran cold. Have you been had? Did someone plant a bomb or a weapon in your bag? Did Dracula betray you?

Carefully, your hand grasped the cool object, before slowly pulling out of your bag.

You couldn’t help the small gasp that left your mouth when you pulled out a potion bottle.

“When…?”

Looking over the bottle, you noticed a tag attached to the cork, and gently held it still as you made out the intricate cursive on the note.

‘I figured you could use this. It should be enough to finish healing your wounds. I hope you put it to good use.

Sincerely,

~VDT.’

You didn’t notice you were beginning to cry, until your vision became blurry with hot tears.

“VDT…. Vlad… Dracula Țepeș…?” You asked out loud with a sniffle.

He didn’t betray you. At some point, he must have slipped this in your bag after his last visit as he escorted you out. How?

It was a silly question to ask, given the immense power he held… but…

You sniffled again, tears hitting your leg as everything slowly began to hit you at once.

Despite it all…

…Dracula went out of his way to heal you, and even made sure you had something for when you got home.

More tears began to form as you carefully cradled the small note to your chest.

Dracula at least cared about you, when no one else did.

That thought both thrilled and terrified you to the core.

…Because you were certain you cared for him back.

[ooooo-mcyt]

Okay when I say I can't take Desert Duo angst seriously, that's not strictly true. There is plenty of angst potential for Desert Duo.

Even the very setup of the life series as a concept lends itself to angst. We're talking about a looping death game, here, after all. Everyone you love dies and nobody ever really wins. Over and over again. If we wanna go the Watcher Grian route with things too, that adds even more complex layers of guilt and horror.

The raw emotion of the cactus ring fight is always right there, there is absolutely something so gut wrenching about two people who care so much about each other being forced to fight to the death (grian literally jumped off a cliff afterwards, man).

Lets not forget Grian's constantly present guilt complex in general either, like, y'all think it didn't stick with him that it's his fault they died in Double Life?

And then in this past season, the way the universe literally conspired to keep them apart every single time they tried to draw close to each other has so much angst potential too.

It's not that I can't take any angst seriously with these two, it's that I keep seeing angst scenarios that feel played out and like they don't even really fit all that well.

They can both be snarky and petty, but they like each other. They enjoy one anothers company, they trust each other, they don't hold onto hard feelings, and they keep seeking each other out.

Whenever they talk about past seasons, it's with fondness. They mention the desert with smiles and yearning and small winks between them.

They whine about being scammed and tricked by the other and love to banter but at the end of the day, their snark is always accompanied by giggles.

Sure, they clearly enjoy being together and have a lot of instinctive loyalty, but, for one reason or another, they also don't tend to get jealous. Like. They both flirt with other people all the time, guys, and as I've pointed out before, Scar literally didn't care about the secret soulmates thing.

People keep making desert duo angst where the angst comes from them. From distrust, from anger, from resentment, from distance. But I just don't see it. They're fond of each other, they trust each other, they keep drawing together because they like to be together, and the angst that exists between them comes not from some toxic poisoning element of their relationship, but from the elements that keep pulling them away from each other when they aren't ready to leave.

[christmasjade]

My thoughts on Married in Red+ My general thoughts on Studio Investigrave !

So I really like this game

It was fun to be able to play it on my own with no help from Youtubers and stuff ^^

The game has 1 ending, though you can have 2 different kinds of game overs lol (I'll get to that later)

The mc (Bok-su) and her relationship with the bride (Da-Jeong) is sad , but not shocking lol. You can kind of tell from the promotional art (and the theme of atonement said in the itch.io description) that Da-Jeong and Bok-Su are not on good terms.

I like that Bok-su was able to get her revenge on Da-Jeong. Obviously her way of doing it is horrible, and the groom (Myeong-hoon) being a main part of her revenge is sad, because he had nothing to do with this.

However, I dont feel that bad for Da-Jeong at all. Yeah, two wrongs dont make a right, and people panic, but she essentially ruined Bok-Su's life and reputation to save her own ass, so I really can't bring myself to feel too bad for her.

Sure you can argue that the situations are different, with Bok-Su purposefully killing Myeong-Hoon meanwhile what Da-Jeong did was a mistake, but I personally am a firm believer of getting your lick back, so 🤗..

I also like how the deaths and reactions are the exact same lmao.

The patient Da-Jeong killed was a man, and his mother said something along the lines of like.. "You killed my son" (I dont exactly remember, depsite me literally just playing LMAOO) and Myeong-Hoons mom literally says the same thing/something adjacting to that too Da-Jeong.

Da-Jeong runs off and during her break down says "I didn't do it-", which is what Bok-Su says when shes retelling the story of what Da-Jeong did to her.

Bok-Su had to goal of getting her payback to make Da-Jeong atone and she accomplished it. And the crazy thing is, despite everything that happened, Da-Jeong never said sorry.

She never said sorry. Not when Bok-Su showed up to the wedding, not when the two of them where alone in the garden, and damn sure not when Da-Jeong had "enough" of Bok-Su being there.

She never said sorry, not even when she pointed the blame onto Bok-Su. In fact, Bok-Su repeats a line that Da-Jeong said to her when (I'm assuming so anyway) the incident happened. Da-Jeong told her that she didnt have anything to worry/be mad about.

The ending of the game, obviously, isnt really a happy ending. Bok-Su gets her revenge and makes Da-Jeong go through what she did but 10× worst. So sure its happy for her,but its still horrific lol

Which is why I love endings for the games that Studio Investigrave makes. With the exception of Cold Front, all of the endings across all the games arent truly happy ever after kind of endings.

With Dead Plate, Rody either has to kill Vincent after finding out his ex was killed and turned into food by him AND after he tried to do the same to Rody.

Yeah Rody makes it out alive, but theres still a horrible and traumatic incident that happened. He knows why Vince did it, and was able to get rid of him, but it doesn't erase the fact that Manon is still dead. (Or with the other ending he leaves the restaurant and never find Manon, because shes in the fridge "missing".)

With Elevator Hitch, the cycle repeats for Protag. When he finally gets the chance to leave the Elevator and the building, hes stopped by some..guy ?? (Who looks like an alternate lmao) and is convinced that he needs the job. The exit doors then open up into the elevator again. He never leaves that building, and is probably stuck in a time loop.

With Eloquent Countenance, Angelica either gets the ritual redone on her by the cult, or is stuck in the cult with the knowledge that shes not the only one in her body. But that she shares it with an angel pretending to be the dead wife of the cults pastor.

Yeah, she lives, but she has to wait until Forcas can fully save her from her possession by said angel. The ending, like Dead Plate and Married in Red, is horrific.

And then with the other ending of Cold Front , if you push Winnie off the stairs, he dies in the crash and Auggie takes his place. It's a happy ending for Auggie, sure, but he never gets the closure or the realization that Winnie was never the wicked and mean person he made him out to be in his head. Its disturbing how content he is with it, with the fact that his former best friend is dead and how he replaces him.

But yeah, erm... the game was fun, 10/10 ^^

[citrinae]

pumpkin spice evenings.

or: spending halloween with them. something quick & chill i wrote for fun as i sipped on the third cup of tea for today. enjoy some silliness, lovelies! 🎃

ft. the monster trio

masterlist

☾₊‧⁺ luffy 

will always come up with the weirdest, most eccentric costume ideas; usopp once explained him that halloween is for all things scary and mysterious, and you think that maybe he took it too literally when this year you see him on deck with a piece of wood around the neck that reads ‘empty stomach’.

but who can match his freak better than you, who soon returns from franky’s workshop with a costume of your own—‘empty fridge’. seeing you, luffy’s mouth stretches into a widest smile. he is so happy that you got his vision that he hugs you all night; cheerily jumping from behind, forming a knot around your waist with his hands. 

he loves to tell a good scary story; more than this he adores impersonating the characters making an appearance in those tales. of course props are mandatory: toothpicks for vampires, ketchup for blood, flour for ghosts. though you never get to find out how they wrap up as one way or another he’s always plucked from the floor and shaken off whatever shit he’s used from the kitchen to set a vibe. 

another thing luffy is very fond of—not necessarily around halloween—is pranks. and we know that these become a lot more fun with a partner in crime to support the mischief—that is you, in his case, keeping usopp busy as he sneaks some spiders under his pillow or slipping a fake eye in sanji’s soup when no one’s looking. the latter is more of a payback for not being allowed to listen to a story from beginning to end.

☾₊‧⁺ zoro

zoro doesn’t understand the hype formed around the holiday. he spent enough time in mihawk’s castle to not be moved by anything conventionally seen as ‘spooky’ or ‘frightening’. specifically he finds halloween costumes stupid, and by default he’s the type to show up to every party dressed up like, uh well, himself. 

the morning his green coat and red sash are missing he seems more confused than annoyed, opening and closing drawers to each five minutes, scratching his head. then he finds you on deck, and a hot flash of nervousness crosses his cheeks as he does. obviously his clothes look larger on you, loops and waves of green fabric hanging from your arms like willow leaves. his face grows even redder when you tell him he’s free to dress up for halloween as you if he wants.

stupid or not, celebrating a holiday means more booze, so you shouldn’t worry about him joining the rest of you for a midnight party. candles and carved pumpkins and spiderweb. glasses and liquor and bursts of laughter. suddenly he wraps his arm around your shoulder, dragging you the closest you’ve ever been to him in front of so many people. 

“you havin’ fun, pirate hunter?” he asks, playful and lukewarm into your ear. getting a grip through the shiver his voice sent down your spine, you tell him that you do. “how about we make it even more so for you,” brushing his thumb across your cheek. “with a drinking contest. loser keeps their costume on for another three days.”

☾₊‧⁺ sanji

he just lives for the coupley stuff that comes with halloween; so he will always go for classic pair costumes like the gomez to your morticia or the ken to your barbie—he’ll even do it the other way around, if you ask him, because how can he ever say no to you, when you look at him with those crystal eyes, so pure and celestial, that make his heart leap from his chest.

speaking of heavenly. “angel and devil” is another costume idea sanji’s quite big on, and that’s only because he always thought you’d be heart-stopping with a pair of white wings and a soft blush on your cheeks, glitter on your chest and a halo hovering above your head, so that you can look in a mirror and see yourself as he’s envisioned you in his head ever since the day he met you. 

you can stay assured that, aside from the batches of halloween-themed goodies he promised to the crew, he will also take some time in advance to make sure your costumes are thought out to the very detail. sanji genuinely thinks it’s so fun and romantic when you do each other’s makeup; eyeliner, facepaint, blush. whatever you need, he got you. he might not be the best at it, but hell he’s trying his best, and he looked so excited when he offered to do it that you couldn’t deny him this to begin with.

despite the effort put in both of your costumes, later at night it becomes harder and harder for him not to scoop you up from the floor and take you somewhere he can be alone with you, smudging your makeup with his lips and ripping your clothes off. he simply can’t stop thinking about it. about you; especially when you look so beautiful, enjoying a board game with the rest of the crew, glitter falling off your eyelashes and dusting your cheeks.

check here for main spooktober series (currently stretched to november).

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Kris behind the cut; I was offered dealer's choice and picked “mirror mirror”. relevant tags: clonecest, gender play, roleplay, daddy kink (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Fuck, you’re so into this,” he breathes raggedly as he plasters himself down against the other’s back, a little too come-stupid to hold back the break in character, and Match– 

Match– 

Match bites his lip, and keeps his hips tilted up just perfectly for the deepest possible place Kon can get inside him; keeps himself up on the balls of his feet. Kon pictures him in heels. It is very fucking distracting, as a picture, and not in a helpful way. 

“Yeah,” Match mumbles, barely audible, and Kon just about burns alive even before he gets to, “You're my favorite, Daddy.” 

Kon really, really regrets the fact he just came. Even half-Kryptonian stamina isn’t gonna let him keep fucking the bastard right now. 

Though if they’re talking superpowers in sex, well–his TTK really never has let him down. 

Kon wraps his TTK around his dick–concentrates it around his dick, more like–and keeps it a hard and thick pressure inside Match, even as his actual cock tries to soften underneath it. Match makes another hitched little noise, and Kon nuzzles the back of his neck a little clumsily, trying to just–focus. Just get himself back into being Match’s “daddy”, at least for now. 

Or being his special little princess’s daddy. Just, like, however his dick wants to phrase that right now. 

“Please,” Match says, his voice flickering a little hesitant, and Kon drops a soft little kiss behind his ear and slides his hands up his sides; keeps his TTK-wrapped dick deep inside him, even if fucking him with it would probably fucking hurt at this point. It’d be worth it, definitely. 

“You don’t have to ask, sweetheart,” he manages, and mostly gets himself under control. “Already told you I'd let you come on my cock as many times as you wanted, didn't I? Let you keep him warm all night? Let you be the pretty little whore you love being as long as you wanna.” 

Match whimpers. Kon strokes his hands heavier back down his sides and presses down tighter against his back and gets him squirming under them; under him. His dick’s too oversensitive for the way Match clutches up around it, even with his TTK in the way, but he doesn't give a fuck. 

He wonders, suddenly, if that’s part of why Match keeps fucking leaving him so fucking quick. If he can’t–what, goddamn justify sticking around if he’s not getting off for it. 

They’ve got the same powers, after all. The same stamina. And Kon really doesn’t usually need or want to go as many rounds as they always seem to end up going. Really does wish Match would just, like–fucking stay and talk to him a little more often. Or just literally fucking ever, even. 

He doesn’t really know how he feels about the fact he’s regularly fucking somebody who won’t even sit down and eat a pizza or watch shitty reality TV or even sleep with him, sometimes. 

But if maybe Match feels like he has to leave, when he doesn’t have the “right” excuse to stick around anymore . . . 

Kon digs his fingers into Match’s ribs. Match squirms again–clutches up tighter around his dick again–and Kon licks the back of his teeth. 

He rolls his hips again, and Match whimpers again. A quiver goes up his thighs, and Kon presses him down against the top of the dresser and slides his hands down to grip his ass and knead in tight. 

“Daddy,” Match whines half-senselessly, and Kon loops an arm tight around his waist and nuzzles roughly into the crook of his neck and up his throat. Match clutches up even fucking tighter and Kon manages to make what should probably be a groan of overstimulated pain into a dirty grunt and rock his cock in to the root. Match whimpers louder, his ass pressing back pleadingly and fingers gouging the dresser again. 

Kon’s probably just gonna need to, like, fucking destroy the furniture after this, or else people might figure out exactly what kind of superpowers tore up this room and shit might get awkward, Kryptonian-ly speaking. Like, definitely he doesn’t want some rando tabloid reporter or online influencer asking Clark, “hey Superman, someone with your exact build and set of superpowers who kept their face carefully concealed from all the security cameras broke this paid-in-cash motel room somewhere in the Pacific Northwest with a sex marathon with an unknown partner; care to comment?” 

Yeah, definitely not. 

[dawn-in-neocity]

going out with nct dream!

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drug use (weed), slightly suggestive

if you’re going to engage in the use of intoxicating substances please make sure to do it in a safe and responsible manner. take care of yourselves and always look out for your friends and partners.

mark

not huge on loud music and packed spaces, so he rarely goes clubbing. however, when he gets down he gets down. hands on your hips when you dance together. does not let you out of his sight. orders a FEAST’S worth of food delivery ahead, especially if you’ve been drinking. guides you out by the shoulders while holding your belongings. makes sure to get a video of you drunkenly confessing your undying love for him (he sounds equally drunk in the background).

renjun

sends you like 10 different pics for you to choose his outfit. big late night dinner before the function at your go-to pregame meal place. knows every song ever made and sings at the TOP of his lungs with you. does not stop smiling once, it’s so contagious. is in his own lil world with you. has to step outside for some cool fresh air every hour. eventually y’all get to kissing and decide that no night out dancing could be more fun than a drunk night home ( :) ) so you leave early.

jeno

makes you do a spin for him to see your full outfit. keeps getting close to your ear and telling you how good you look. matches your energy perfectly. like if you feel like grinding and getting all sticky and sweaty until the sun rises, he’s in. you usually tap out before 3am though. if you’re not too drunk you share a joint while you debrief the events of the night. rummages through your fridge for a snack before coming to bed. (repeats how hot you looked one more time).

haechan

y’all usually opt for staying in and getting wine drunk in the bath together, but when you do go out… it’s balls to the wall! tequila shots left and right. probably bar/club hopping. you guys dance like you’re never seeing each other again after the night ends. full on makes out with you on the dance floor. y’all leave when the world starts spinning a bit too much, giggling while getting into your taxi. whoever wakes up first makes the hangover meal.

jaemin

not a big drinker, but always assures you that you can have fun however you want to and he’ll be there to take care of you. has a billion kilowatt smile on while watching you dance. cups the side of your neck and pulls you in CLOSE whenever you try telling him something. does this bit where he sidles up next to you and asks if he can get you a drink. hands you a water bottle every once in a while. makes sure you do your skincare before you knock out at home.

chenle

makes rounds saying hi to people, introducing you to everyone you don’t already know. keeps nuzzling your neck because your going-out fragrance is his favorite. doesn’t let go of your hand once. takes his alcohol on the rocks to look cool, but sips from your mixed drink as a chaser. your nr 1 hypeman. kisses your cheek when someone points a camera at you (the picture turns out cute as fuck). come-hither motions at you while singing sexy back by jt.

jisung

literally only goes to these things for you. is somehow still shocked that he has fun even after the nth time. dances his ass off fr. pulls your hips back into his by your belt loops. sporadically kisses your jaw and the side of your neck. he doesn’t like staying out too late. holds your hand in both of his all the way home. as much as he loves dancing with you, his favorite part of the night is when you people watch on his balcony as you pass a joint back and forth.

[adventuringblind]

Toxic Reappearance

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Request: no this is pure self indulgence. However, they are open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, Daniel, and I’ve now added George to the list.

Summary: an old friend reappears into your life, one that left you traumatized. Having thought you’d never see them again you didn’t ever say anything. When Charles figures out what’s been going on he may just be to late to save you from your past.

Warnings: toxic friendships, abusive behavior,

Notes: written in second person. I feel like abusive friendships aren’t talked about enough. It still hurts and still leaves you with trauma. I’m basing the reader’s feeling off my own from when I went through it. George is actually my stand-in for someone else involved.

Masterlist

Charles always tried his to appear calm and collected. However, when you started acting different then what he’d used to, calm and reasonable went out the window.

You’d always struggled with friends. Mainly because the one you had was incredibly possessive. She managed to cut you off from a good chunk of the people you once were close with. Using guilt and lies to confuse everyone involved.

You knew her home life wasn’t the greatest and mentally she wasn’t in a good spot, so you tried to be her rock.

It started out great in grade school. The two of you were fast friends and could hardly ever be seen without the other in two. Then it started to become a toxic loop. One you couldn’t get out of due to the guilt every time you tried to set boundaries.

You were so young. You wanted to help. Not that her home life is an excuse for what she did, but it puts it into perspective. Helps you understand why she did what she did.

Playful punches when she was annoyed with you. Blaming not knowing her own strength on why it was so hard. Never being allowed to have your own interests. Always overshadowed by what she was feeling.

You shrunk into yourself. Not able to talk to anyone because you believed her. You thought she left bruises on accident, your boyfriends kissed her first, she really just wanted those revealing pictures of you to bless you with compliments only to turn around and compare your bodies.

In your sophomore year of high school she had to move. Her mom had received a job farther away. You were able to cut contact after that. The weight slowly lifting off your shoulders. The bruises that once littered your skin now clearing without fear of them coming back later.

You’d talked about it, understood that what happened was not okay in the slightest. Your family was floored when you opened up about it to them a couple years later. Then you decided it was in the past, determined ti put everything behind you and move on.

Unfortunately the past has a way of catching up with you.

It was around this time that Charles sped into your life. Quite literally.

You’d been walking through the town. Busy with people in town for the grand-prix weekend. You’d wanted to go but it was more expensive then you could afford. Settling for enjoying it from afar.

You were not at fault for what happened next, having looked both ways before crossing the street. Only to be met with a nice looking car whipping around the corner. It was so fast your only reaction was to protect your head and brace for impact. Surprise flooding your system when nothing happened.

You slowly looked up. Thanking your guardian angel for saving you from what could have been disastrous.

The man in the driver seat frantically got out of the car. Rushing over to you to make sure you were okay. His frantic apoligizing almost went unheard as you began laughing.

You blamed the adrenaline. "I can't believe I almost got hit by a really nice care and now a good looking man is trying to make sure I'm ok."

The man had no words to respond with. Finding himself oddly flattered. The woman he could've killed is completing him? It feels like a corny romance movie.

He offered you a ride to your destination, which you accepted. Joking about how he could be a serial killer.

He assured you he wasn't. Explaining how he was racing this weekend. Killing someone was definitely not on the agenda.

You two exchanged numbers that day. Getting to meet up with him a few times before he left. Then having to resign to text and video call.

You two became good friends. The first truly good friendship you'd had in a while. You were grateful for Charles and his never-ending patience. And he was grateful you were there to listen in good times and in bad.

You were ecstatic when he invited you to a race Monaco. He got to show you around his world and his home. Your eyes lighting up at every little piece of himself he shared with you.

It was then that he asked you out on an official date. Letting the feelings that he'd developed for you spill out.

Obviously you'd reciprocated.

Now, you two have been in a relationship for two years. Learning and growing with each other. First over long distance before Charles had enough and asked you to travel with him.

You were thankful that remote studies had become increasingly popular since quarantine. Giving you the opportunity to follow Charles all around the world.

It was exciting for both of you. Sharing experiences together brought you closer together.

You'd also become friends with others around the paddock. You got along with most everyone. George has become a good friend through your travels.

So it only made sense when he was excited to introduce you to his girlfriend.

You and Charles were walking to the Ferrari garage when he came running up to you.

"Charles! Y/N! I want you to meet someone!" He shouts to you. Joy clearly evident in his voice.

Charles immediately noticed your entire demeanor change when you turned around. The woman he didn't know embracing you in a tight hug. You looked like you wanted to throw up but tried to put a smile on for George.

"You two already know eachother?" Charles asked quizzically.

"We were best friends growing up! I'm surprised she hasn't talked about me." She was referring to you and you knew you should respond but the shock of seeing her wouldn't let you.

She looked different, but you'd still recognize her anywhere. She'd started modeling after high-school. Turns out she met George at a show and they hit it off.

The whole time they talked, you were silent. Trying to choke down the need to tell George to leave her before he gets stuck. But maybe she'd changed and has been able to heal some.

When you and Charles continued walking, he immediately was trying to figure you out. Asking questions you couldn't hear. Your breathing labored.

He got you into his driver's room as fast as possible. "You don't have to tell me everything right now, mon amour. But I do need to know if this is a security issue and if you're okay."

You shake your head and play with his fingers. "I don't think so. She just wasn't the greatest friend." You confessed, hoping it would be enough for now.

Charles pulls you into him. He's unsure what to do, having never been in this situation. Seeing you respond to someone like this makes him more nervous than he wants to admit.

Through the next few months, you opened up little by little. Though with the girl constantly with you, it was starting to send you backwards.

It felt like your body just reacted to her. Your conversations with anyone were distant. You started flinching away from sudden hand gestures.

Charles tried his best to keep you separated from her. It never worked, though. She always found you, and you are too nice to tell her to go away.

It's was even more concerning when he noticed George exhibiting similar behaviors.

The group had gone out to the bar to celebrate the end of the race weekend. George seemed closed off to everyone. Responding almost exclusively to his girlfriend. Her hand on his bicep made him flinch away.

You also were very quiet. She was sitting in between you and George, giving the benefit of control.

Charles was ready to kick her out. You'd finished telling a story only to immediately be shut down and made to feel inferior.

When the two of you arrived back at the hotel, you broke. Falling into Charles and letting the tears flow freely.

"I can't do it anymore." You wailed. Taking comfort in Charles embrace and his hand smoothing your hair.

"We'll figure this out mon amour. I won't let her hurt you."

Things only got worse from there.

She'd managed to get into your phone while you weren't paying attention. You curse yourself for using the same pincode since high school.

When you went to check it, you noticed things were missing and out of place.

You stared at her, pondering if you should say something. And letting the anger win, you did so.

"Did you go through my phone?" You kept your voice as if you were just curious. Hopefully, to deter her from getting angry.

It didn't happen that way. She was furious you'd evernask such a thing. Ranting about how she's been so loyal to you even after you started ignoring her when she moved.

She'd gripped your shoulder far too aggressively. Telling you she only wants to see you happy.

The missing contacts on your phone were frustrating. Even Charles' number was missing. All your pictures with friends had been deleted. Including those on your socials.

You curled farther into yourself after that.

Charles struggled to help you open up. Having to treat you like glass that might shatter.

You'd started wearing sleeves regularly. Barley letting him touch you in the simplest of ways. Changing in the bathroom when you once didn't care because he'd seen it all.

It hurt him seeing you like this, and he became determined to fix it once and for all.

On the other side, George had been exhibiting similar behaviors. It felt that nobody could get in contact with him. His girlfriend practically held his phone hostage.

The shirtless pics had suddenly stopped, and he'd started wearing sleeves daily. It made everyone concerned for his well-being.

His teammate needed answers. So Lewis made his way to find them.

Two men on a mission, practically the same one, run into each other.

"Lewis! How are things?" Charles tried to put a smile on his face.

"Could be better at the moment, I'm actually really concerned about George." Lewis' honesty never failed to throw Charles off.

"I'm worried about him as well. Y/N has also been worrying lately."

"Maybe we should talk somewhere more private."

The two ended up back in Charles' driver room. Knowing that the female in question would most likely be around the Mercedes garage.

"Maybe we should talk to George and explain our concerns?" Suggested Lewis. His boy sprawled out across the floor.

Charles shakes his head in response. "I've done that already with my girlfriend." He sighs in pained defeat. "She doesn't want to be around her, but for some reason, it always ends up happening. She barely lets me hug her now."

"I think George is too nice to tell her to get lost." Confesses the Brit. "I don't know what we can do then. Unless it becomes a security thing." He shrugs.

"Have we ever actually caught her being aggresive?"

It dawned on them both that they'd never caught her in the act.

And so the two males formed a plan.

It took three mire race weekends to catch her. She had you gripped by the shoulders and backed into the wall. Oddly enough it was George who had arrived on scene first. His race suit tied around his waist.

He’d made an attempt to reason with the irrationality angry woman in front of him. The situation only becoming more escalated.

It wasn’t long that the staff and drivers around the area were alerted by the commotion. Charles and Lewis caught each others eyes before the two were jogging to the center of the scene.

Charles stepped defensively in front of you. Lewis managing to putt George farther away. Now that three drivers are involved, it didn’t take long for security to step in.

“I think we need to talk about what happened.” Sighs Charles. Grateful that she’s gone but feeling that this won’t be the end of situation.

You find yourselves back in yours and Charles hotel room. Accompanied by Max and Lando who though you were going to the bar as usual. Charles explained why that would probably not be happening tonight, the two deciding they would help the mood by bringing alcohol with them to the room for a mini party of sorts.

George was constantly looking over his shoulder and you checked the room multiple times over to be sure everything is locked.

You immediately sank into Charles the moment you felt safe. George is pacing back and fourth mumbling to himself, attempting to get words out that seemed to be difficult to say.

“Do you think we can help with the anxiety?” Asks Lewis. He found his home on the couch. George pauses for a moment fumbling around with his words.

Lando and Max are completely clueless and find themselves seated at the table. Trying to be supportive but not knowing how.

“She’s crazy.” George finally manages. You shake your head in agreement, to exhausted for words. “I’ve tried breaking up with her multiple times but she keeps coming back.” He slumps against the wall. His body curling in on itself. “She knows where I live, she’s messaged me with multiple phone numbers, she somehow manages to get a key to my hotel rooms, she’s even broken into my car.” He’s crying now, all the boys shooting him and you looks of sympathy.

“She was the same way when we were younger. It seems to have escalated more now.” You drawl, eyes closed from feeling safe in Charles arms. He pulls you closer, his fingers playing with your hair. It was the first time he’d had you those close in months. Determined to embrace every second of the contact.

“No wonder you two look paranoid.” Lando places his head in his hands. Max shot him a look, saying that was probably a poor choice of words.

This time around, though, you knew things were going to be different. You had people around that could help.

After everyone left for the night, George having gone with Lando so he didn't have to stay in his room, Charles didn't let you go.

Things were going to get better for you. Finally getting the help you needed all these years. Almost an element of closure.

When you put on comfy clothes in front of him, he wasn't sure what to do. His eyes couldn't leave your body. It looked like you had been at war.

The tears slide down your cheeks as Charles places gentle kisses on each painful mark.

"My kisses are magic, I assure you."

You smile at him through the tears. Overwhelmed by all the emotions you'd gone through in one day.

"Good thing I have you around to make it better then."

[merakiui]

Fwb Riddle with the prompts "You don't have to leave, you know" and/or "Stay the night tonight" 🥺

AAAA YES YES. OTL

(fwb dialogues)

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Riddle murmurs, watching you pick up your discarded clothes scattered on the floor. He’s sitting up in his bed, the covers draped lazily over his lap. Awkwardly, he wrings his hands out of nervous habit.

You glance over your shoulder at him, stunned. “I thought you didn’t have time today. You told me so—said you’d rather be studying when I texted you.”

“Yes. Well…” He huffs, averting his eyes. “I’ve changed my mind. So… If it’s not asking too much, stay the night tonight.”

You tilt your head, resting your hands on your hips. “Isn’t there some rule about this in the Queen of Hearts’s law?”

Riddle chuckles, regaining slivers of confidence with every passing second. “There’s nothing in the rulebook that says I’m not allowed to share my space with you. We’re abiding by the rules.”

“Most of the time.”

Riddle blinks at you, opens his mouth to question you, and then clamps it shut. His face explodes with color. He remembers the night well—the party at the lounge. He only went for courtesy’s sake, accompanied by Trey and Cater, and he’d planned to make his rounds, greet everyone in turn, and leave before he missed evening tea. Rule 153 — One must only drink herbal tea in the evenings.

But then someone passed a fruity drink into his hand—something that was so very obviously alcoholic from the look and sight alone—and Riddle had thought himself strong enough to decline. Even though his wits were about him, they crumbled at the sight of you, merrily giggling alongside Kalim and indulging in the type of mindless fun he’s never had the chance to know. He’s never needed to rely on liquid courage or anything like it; he derives enough confidence from the ever-present fear of failure and that keeps him going.

But this was different, and it wasn’t very secretive to the keen eyes of his friends and dorm mates.

Cater had nudged Riddle, grinning encouragingly. “You literally never get to see (Name) outside of class. Now’s your chance! Go make Cay-Cay proud and talk a bit.”

Riddle flustered outright. “I’ve no idea what we’d even talk about!”

“The upcoming exam,” Trey prompted with a half-shrug. “Nothing gets people talking faster than when it comes to exams they aren’t looking forward to.”

For once Riddle doesn’t find academics an appealing conversation subject. But he hadn’t had time to deliberate because Cater looped arms with him and skipped over in your direction.

Riddle learned two very valuable lessons that night. One: Never drink wine in copious amounts no matter how delicious it is. Two: Never hook up anywhere near or in the Mostro Lounge.

It’s been months since that party, an irresponsible mistake on his part, and he’s arguably closer with you than he’s ever been. Physically, perhaps. Emotions are…difficult. Neither of you signed up for the emotional benefits. Just the sex. Sometimes he wishes there was more. Rule 53 — One must replace anything stolen.

But how can you do that when you’re not aware of the thing you’ve unintentionally stolen?

Riddle surfaces from that rumination, refusing to dignify that with incoherent, embarrassed sputtering. Instead, he simply says, “Certain situations call for…exceptions.”

“Is that what I am?” you ask, stepping into your underwear. Riddle’s gaze traces the length of your legs. “An exception to the rules? Last I checked there’s no rule saying we can’t kiss.”

“And there aren’t any rules prohibiting you from staying either.”

You pause, half-dressed. “No, I guess not… I don’t want to ruin your study time, though. I may be an exception, but I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“We could study together.”

“You’re the only guy I know who’d study after sex.”

Riddle bristles. “W-What else am I meant to do?”

An amused smile curls on your lips. You cover the distance to the bed and lean over to meet him. He stares at you, swept up in your charm. You’re everything his mother would object to. Your relationship doesn’t suit that of normal, standard love (because it’s not), but it’s his choice and no one, not even the rules or his mother, can influence that. It’s messy and imperfect, but it’s all his.

“You could try talking to me,” you offer, your face within kissing distance. “Not about school or dorm stuff. But about you.”

Oh.

Yeah, you’re right. He could try that.

[amhrosina]

Your Pretty Heart (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

A/N: Anyone else widely obsessed with Pedro Pascal and The Last of Us right now? Being back in my Pedro era feels like getting home after a long ass trip. Should I write for some of Pedro's characters?? SOS! Also, I hit 800 followers today??? Like what??? Thank you to everyone who supports me and this account!!

Request: ex’s to lovers with Billy Russo or Matt Murdock. Where Frank and Karen “help” Billy/Matt get their ass together to get back with Reader. Because come on their clearly still in lovee. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: When you and Billy break up, Karen takes it upon herself to get you back together. Her plan comes to a head one night at Josie’s, and you and Billy must face the consequences of loving and leaving one another. 

(Warnings: so much angst, cursing, Billy is a soft!boy at heart, soft!Billy, descriptions of smut (but like romantic descriptions, not graphic ones??), I think that’s it, it’s literally just really sad until the end lol) 

“You look great.” Your date smiled, but he wasn’t looking at your face. Instead, for the third time in less than a minute, his eyes trailed the sloping curve of your cleavage as it disappeared into your dress. You shrugged his gaze off, hoping there was at least something interesting about him to keep you entertained for the evening. Something could be there. Deep, deep, down, but there, nonetheless.  

“So, Brad, what do you do for work? When Karen set this up, she didn’t tell me much about you.” 

“I’m an accountant.”  

Brad nodded his head along with yours, an awkward bob as you waited for him to return the question. He didn’t, instead choosing to fix his gaze on the jazz singer across the restaurant. Zero for two, Brad. 

“Do you, uh, have any hobbies?” You tried again to break the conversation dam, but Brad’s attention was so far away from the table you were sharing that he barely glanced at you when he responded. 

“I jog sometimes.” 

“Oh!” You lurched forward, desperate to grab onto anything that might make this date less awkward. “I like to jog, too. I’ll listen to books when I do it to pass the time. Do you read at all?” 

Brad’s eyes flicked to yours, then back to the jazz singer. Uninterested, bored, and inconvenienced. That’s what his glance told you. 

“People who need books or music when they run aren’t capable of self-reflection. It’s how you grow as a human being, you know? You should try it.”  

You blinked. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? A pompous, arrogant, prick seemed like the winning description, and you chuckled as you looped your purse handle over your shoulder. 

“Well, Brad.” You stood from your seat, drawing his attention away from the band. “Congratulations. You win. I think this is quite possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on, and that’s saying a lot.” 

You didn’t deem him with an explanation as you exited the restaurant, but a vivid memory flashed in your mind of Billy standing you up on your anniversary last year. Yeah, that date was terrible, but at least Billy hadn’t insulted you after standing you up. He’d spent weeks apologizing with flowers, jewelry, and even cutting down on his time at Anvil so he could spend more time with you, but that date would always stick out in your mind as the beginning of the end.  

You shook the thoughts from your head, digging through your purse to find your cellphone. Karen was going to explain where the fuck she met this guy, and why she thought setting him up with you would be a good idea. She picked up on the second ring. 

“Karen.” You tapped your foot on the sidewalk. “What the fuck?” 

“Hey! How was the date?”  

Wherever Karen was, it was loud. You could barely understand her through the speaker, muffled by music and what sounded like a crowd of people in the background.  

“The date was so bad.” You almost whined. Almost stomped your foot at how unfair the dating world had become. Almost thought about how much easier it was when you were with Billy. “Where did you even meet this guy?” 

“At work. Was he an asshole?” She sounded apologetic, but the volume at which she had to scream her question into the phone made the entire interaction feel a little less impactful.  

“Grade-A Asshole.” You groaned. “Where are you?” 

“I’m at Josie’s, but-” 

“Great. I’m on my way.”  

You hung up the phone before she could respond and hailed a taxi. You felt a little guilty for barging in on her evening. Karen was a good friend, one that you’d clung to since you and Billy had gone your separate ways, and she deserved a night out without your moping. But the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of your stomach told you exactly the reason you had to go to Josie’s. If you didn’t go hang out with Karen, you’d end up calling Billy, and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you after a shitty date. You climbed into the taxi and hoped you could drink away the memories of tonight with Karen once you arrived at Josie’s.  

- 

Billy took a hefty sip of his beer as he eavesdropped on Karen’s phone conversation. Technically, it wasn’t eavesdropping if Karen had whacked him on the arm the second her phone started ringing, but it made Billy uncomfortable anyways. What they’d planned felt too much like a trick, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. 

“She’s on her way.” Karen grinned, raising her beer in the air to clink bottles with him.  

Billy fiddled with the bottle in his hand, unsure if there was anything to be ‘cheersing’ to. 

“C’mon, Bill,” Frank grunted, meeting Karen’s still outstretched arm, “It worked. She’s on her way. Now, all you have to do is be a lesser asshole than her date.” 

“Don’t you think she’ll be furious when she finds out her entire evening was construed by her ex-boyfriend and best friends? She doesn’t even want to see me.” 

“Trust me, Billy,” Karen angled her head for emphasis, “She does. She just won’t admit it.” 

“How do you know, though?”  

“I see it on her face, and hear it in her voice, and she’s still sleeping on my couch. And you know what that tells me?”  

Billy rolled his eyes. “What does that tell you, Karen?” 

Karen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That she’s not looking for another apartment. That she still has hope that she’ll be able to go home, to your apartment.” 

Billy shook his head. “The market is insane. Maybe she just can’t find an affordable one.” 

“I saw three listed in the paper this morning. She’s not looking, Billy. She misses you.” 

Billy groaned, dragging his hands over his face. This entire situation was completely and totally fucked, and it was completely and totally his fault. He’d always been warned that his ambition would get the best of him. You’d slipped through his fingers so quickly that he got whiplash when he thought about the end of the relationship. It was like you were there one day and gone the next, and he had no idea how he ended up alone, stranded in his kitchen in the middle of the night because the idea of going to bed without you hurt too much.  

“What if it’s too late? What if I can’t fix it?” 

“All you can do is try, Bill.” Frank shrugged. 

“She loves you.” Karen spoke firmly, tapping her finger on the table, “And you love her. But she needs to know that. You have to show her that you love her.” 

“How? I thought I was doing that before.” Billy let out a disgruntled breath and cleared his throat.  

“Your priorities need to change. She deserves better than last-minute cancellations and rescheduled dates. You’re your own boss, Billy. You make the rules, and no matter how much money you spend on her, or how many gifts you buy her, she’s always going to remember the times that you didn’t show up.” 

Billy nodded. Karen was right, as usual. There’d been a significant change in the amount of time Billy was spending at Anvil, sometimes returning home early in the morning, only to change suits and leave again. It wasn’t your fault – it never was – but Billy couldn’t help himself from falling back into his old patterns. When shit got too real, he retreated, and it ended up costing him the most important thing in his life.  

Tonight was his chance to fix everything – to bring you home, to remind you that he adored you, to show you that his life was falling apart without you in it. All he had to do was get you to listen, and he was sure everything else would fall into place. 

- 

You took three steps into the bar before swiveling around and marching out in a dramatic fashion. Cursing Karen for conveniently forgetting to mention that Billy was with her, you tried not to stomp down the sidewalk that led to Karen’s apartment. If you had an apartment of your own, you’d surely be stomping your way there instead.  

You didn’t make it far before you heard your name being called behind you. Two distinct voices trailed you, but you were more focused on the lack of the third. Had he stayed behind at the bar? You swung around, almost slamming into Frank’s chest. Karen was a few steps behind him, and behind her, stood beautiful and broken Billy, hands in his pants pockets.  

“What?” You screeched, eyes flickering between the group. 

“I just wanted to tell you thaaaat,” Karen’s eyes twinkled, and you should’ve known that she was about to make your night go from bad to worse, “I’m going back to my apartment with my boyfriend, who is going to do very loud things to me for hours. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the whole block tonight.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked at Frank, whose innocent expression gave away Karen’s plan faster than you could piece it together. Clearly, this coup had been planned, and they were leaving you with no option but to spend time with Billy. 

“Is that so?” You narrowed your eyes at her, hoping she could read every nasty thought you’d ever had about her in your gaze.  

“Yep!” She hooked an arm through Frank’s and tugged him down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!” 

You watched them until they turned a corner, and you could no longer see them. When you turned to face Billy again, he had inched closer to you, standing a heady meter away with his hands still in his pockets. 

“Did you plan this?”  

The anger in your voice echoed across the concrete, slamming into Billy. He grasped his chest as if you’d shot him in the heart.  

“No. I didn’t even know there was a plan until I showed up at Josie’s earlier.” 

You hesitated to believe him, but something in the way he was looking at you told you to trust him. You looked him up and down, focusing on the way he looked worse than you’d ever seen him. For a brief second, you felt triumph over it. He deserved this after everything he did to you. He deserved to feel like shit. The triumph faded faster than it came, and an overwhelming sadness replaced the ire thoughts you were having about him.  

There were bags under his eyes, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well. He never did when he couldn’t sleep with you. The facial hair that he usually kept so neat and maintained had grown beyond his usual boundaries, and the fact that he kept subconsciously scratching at it told you he didn’t like it. You tried not to let it get to you. You probably looked like shit, too.  

“How’ve you been?” His focus remained wholly on you. You rubbed the back of your neck to try and shake off his stare. 

“We don’t have to do this, Bil.” You looked at the ground, focusing on the crack in the concrete that crawled its way across the sidewalk, drawing a line inbetween you and Billy. You couldn’t decide if that was fitting, or incredibly sad. Maybe it was both. 

“We’re not doing anything.” He shook his head innocently. 

“You know what I mea-” 

“Come home.”  

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the two of you eyed each other. 

“Billy, I-” 

“Just for tonight. Until Karen’s apartment is...safe again.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for an ulterior motive. And of course, there was an ulterior motive. You couldn’t blame him for it, because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.  

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, more towards yourself than at him.  

“Why not?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“You know why.”  

He nodded but shrugged his shoulders anyways.  

“I’m not going to leave you out here with nowhere to go. It’s either the apartment, or we spend the next few hours in awkward silence at a diner.” 

The apartment. Not ‘my’ apartment. He didn’t consider it his when you weren’t there to claim the other half of it. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You wanted so badly to go with him, to see the home that you’d built with him. You wanted so badly to see how he’d faired over the last month without you. It was with all this in mind, and not how much you missed him, that had you nodding, agreeing to go home. Just for a visit, you repeated in your mind, just for a visit. 

When you stepped into what was once the living room you shared with Billy, you were struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There was nothing different about it, except that the bookshelf was a little less stuffed than usual. You’d grabbed your favorites on your way out, unable to part with them, even just for a little bit. 

“Can I get you some wine?” Billy asked, already heading toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass. You nodded, shrugging your jacket off and trying to ignore the strangeness of being treated like a guest in the home that you’d lived in for years.  

When Billy returned with two particularly full glasses, you plopped down on the couch. You didn’t know how to act, or what to say, or who to be when you were around him anymore and falling back into old habits seemed like a grand way to get your feelings hurt again. 

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Billy took a swig from his glass, sitting on the armchair across from the couch. You silently thanked the universe that he had put distance between the two of you. The closer he was, the less clearly you could think.  

“Which one?” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Oh.” You took a sip, only because it gave you something to do with your hands. “I’ve been alright.” 

He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. Anyone who looked at you longer than two seconds could see that you’re clearly not doing alright, but you’d grown comfortable living in denial, and you weren’t going to admit how not alright you were.  

“Heard your date didn’t go well.” 

You scoffed. Maybe it was the wine, or the way he looked smug about the fact that you’d had a shitty date, but you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.  

“Fuck you, Billy. It’s none of your business.” 

Billy looked startled by your outburst. You gulped down another mouthful of wine before rubbing your hand down your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from.” 

“It’s okay. I probably deserve it.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. 

“What happened to us?” You asked, gazing at the ceiling. 

“You tell me, sunflower. You’re the one that left.” 

Your heart ached at the nickname. It wasn’t fair that he used it, especially when you were clearly in a vulnerable mood, but you cherished it anyways.  

“You left first.”  

It was barely a whisper, said so quietly that you weren’t quite sure he had heard you. If the palpable tension that followed wasn’t indicative of his acknowledgment, the deep sigh that erupted from his chest soon after was indication enough. He stayed quiet, swirling the remaining wine in his glass around in small circles. 

You stared at him, unflinching in your assessment of his body language. He didn’t look as miserable as you felt, and a spark of anger ignited in your belly because of it.  

“Did you ever really love me, Bil?” You barked. It was bait, and both of you knew it. You’d never questioned his love for you, and he knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help stepping up to the plate and taking the bait. 

“What kind of fucking question is that?” He watched you closely. You tried not to let your triumph show on your face. “Of course, I love you.” 

He stood from his seat and rested his hands on his hips, willing you to do the same. Meet him where he stood, he dared, show him how much you still care. You were nothing if not a daredevil. You joined him in the middle of the room, pressing your index finger into his chest. 

“Well then, what the fuck happened?”  

“You. Tell. Me.” He gritted from between clenched teeth. 

Billy wasn’t being fair to you, and he knew it. You were asking a valid question, and he was cowering behind the anger and frustration in the room.  

“I can’t do this again, Bil.” You turned, reaching for your purse. A heavy tug on your elbow had you crashing into Billy’s chest, where he enveloped his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hold.  

“You’re not leaving, are you?”  

There was a softness in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking to a grown man and not an orphaned little boy. You blew a long breath out before shaking your head. He rested his forehead against your shoulder. 

“No, Bil. I’m not leaving.” 

“I always knew I’d end up breaking your pretty heart.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you didn’t miss the slight crack in his words. “I knew I’d fuck it up eventually.” 

“I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” You blinked away the tears that had built up on your waterline.  

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

You cupped his face as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, pleaded with you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lowering your body next to his. 

“What’s going on?” You asked him, eyes flickering between his fast-blinking eyelids and rapidly shaking hands.  

“I was afraid.” He cleared his throat. “Am. I am afraid.” 

“Of what? Where is this coming from?” You gaped. You knew Billy struggled with commitment more than most – it had taken him almost a year of serious dating before he could tell you he loved you – but you thought he had moved past that. 

“Tom’s getting married.” 

Your brow furrowed. “What does Tom have to do with us?” 

“Tom’s getting married, and all I can think about is how I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give that to you, and how you deserve someone who can give you everything you want and more.” 

You let his words sink into your chest, dissecting every interaction you’d had with him leading up to your breakup. It had been a slow descent, and when it finally became too much, you’d left with no clue how you ended up alone and sleeping on Karen’s couch every night. 

“Billy,” You shuttered, shaking your head as tears began to travel down your cheeks, “I never said I wanted any of that.” 

“It’s what you deserve.” 

“But it’s not what I want. Why couldn’t you see that I was happy with the way things were?” 

“I was terrified that you’d leave me. And then I became a shit boyfriend, and you really did leave me, and it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You wiped the tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “You weren’t always a shit boyfriend.” 

Billy snorted, letting a small smile cross his face as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“Can you ever forgive me, sunflower?” 

You considered his question. If you were being completely honest, you’d forgiven him as soon as you saw his pretty, brown eyes across the bar earlier, so sad and searching for you.  

“Can you promise that you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this again, instead of shutting me out?” You cupped his cheek, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.  

“I can promise that I’ll try.” He swallowed, searching your expression. “Is that enough?” 

You lurched forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss tasted of red wine and salt, and you were suddenly grateful that you’d slumped to the floor earlier instead of waiting until now, when your knees were weak and shaking with anticipation.  

“I love you.” Billy mumbled inbetween kisses. 

“Show me.” You responded, opening yourself to him for the first time in over a month. 

He took you right there on the living room floor, a flurry of intertwined limbs, swollen lips, and skin brushing skin. His lips only left yours long enough to whisper praises against your neck before returning to yours in a bruising kiss. When you came apart underneath him, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the tears away, apologies in their own right, as he continued showing you how much he loved you. 

Later on, after hours of reconciliation and apologies, you collapsed next to Billy on the couch. You’d lost your clothes a long time ago, only covered with the throw blanket you’d purchased the year before on a whim, and you watched as he sighed in quiet contemplation.  

“We should tell Karen and Frank that their plan worked.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He smiled, pulling you into his chest.  

“Let them figure it out on their own. They’ll come around at some point tomorrow when you still haven’t gone back.” 

He was right. The next morning, when Karen and Frank knocked on the door, you and Billy were still cuddled together on the couch, so worn out from the night before that you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to move to the bedroom. You took one glance at Billy before you were on him again, uncaring that your friends were waiting. That’s fine, you thought, let them wait. Let them wait. 

Tag List:

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[phr3ia]

Love Game (Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader) [Chapter 01 : Problem]

Synopsis :

The infamous Sorcerer Hunter as your roommate. A very horny, yet most annoying roommate you've ever had.

At first, it was out of pity you let Toji stay in your spare room. You got caught up in one of his battles, almost dying at the hands of a sorcerer of all people, yet he saved you. To repay him, you said you'd do anything.

Days later, you probably regret saying that. Because every single time Toji came home, a mere few seconds later, your met with loud thudding noises, and the sound of different women practically screaming his name.

And yes, he knows you can hear him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Thud, Thud, Thud.

Is all you could hear, literally. Toji knew you could hear him, you've complained about the noises before, but the thing is.. he doesn't care. Even when you did ask to keep it down, he'd just go back and make things louder on purpose.

The bed creaked loudly, the bedframe practically abusing the wall with every thrust Toji made. Once again, Toji had brought home another random woman, her noises even reaching your ears, and somehow, they got even louder. What's worse, is that your room was right next to his, so you could hear everything.

And no, Toji had no plans on quieting down.

You couldn't take it anymore. The pounding became too much. The loud moans and the obnoxious thrusts had been going on for nearly an hour, and it was driving you insane. You're tired, you had work in the morning, and you needed rest. Throwing off the covers, you stomped over to Toji's side of the wall and started pounding your fists onto the surface, hard enough to shake the entire apartment.

Your voice, laced with fury, echoed through the walls, "Toji! I told you to keep it down, you arrogant, sex-starved bastard!"

You heard the sudden pause followed by Toji's voice, "Fuck! What?!"

His voice was irritated, but you could tell he wasn't bothered. After all, he had done this several times before. There was a brief silence, and then you heard the bed creak once more. The woman in the other room smiled and arched her back as Toji started to thrust harder, and faster than before.

Her moans echoed throughout the apartment, and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh made you wince. Toji didn't care. His laughter rang out, and you could hear the woman giggle along, fueling Toji's fire.

And just like that, you were reminded once more why you regretted even helping him.

You could feel the anger simmering under your skin, threatening to boil over at any second. The frustration was suffocating, and you ended up throwing yourself onto your bed and covering your ears with your pillow.

You could hear the woman's moans still, and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop it. The thought of Toji, his laughter, and the deafening sounds of the sex was nauseating.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face deeper into the pillow, trying to drown out the noise, but it was hopeless. Every sound had managed to find its way through the fabric, leaving you trapped in an endless loop of agony.

This wasn't living. It was pure misery. And yet, you were stuck. Stuck because of your sense of morality, stuck because you couldn't bring yourself to kick a broke man out who just saved your fucking life from the brink of death.

You had to find a way to deal with Toji. A solution. Or else, you'd go mad.

After what seemed like hours, the bed creaking stopped. The room was silent, save for the occasional panting of Toji and the woman. You could finally breathe, albeit shallowly. You slowly pulled the pillow off your head, only to hear the opening and closing of a drawer. Toji was probably getting rid of the condom and cleaning up.

Once the silence truly set in, you let out a sigh of relief. You finally had peace, for now. But it wouldn't last. It never did.

Toji, knowing that you're still awake, decided to mess with you even more.

From your room, you could hear the after-sex conversation between Toji and his playmate. "So, how do you fit all those toys in that little mouth of yours?" he asked curiously, The woman smirked and answered, "Magic."

"Now, how about we do this again next week? My roomie here seems to hate hearing us fuck." Toji asked, raising his voice on purpose to piss you off.

That comment made you want to throw your pillow at the wall. You rolled your eyes and sighed, your frustration still evident.

Toji didn't care. He'd tease you, mess with you, and ignore you, all because he knew he could. He had a place to stay, and he would continue making the most of it.

After spending a few more minutes, Toji sent the woman on her way. He washed up, changed, and headed to your door. When he knocked, you glared at him through the peephole. Toji simply grinned, "I know you're there, freak." he said, slipping a thick wad of bills under the door. "She was being generous tonight, so... peace offering?"

He chuckled, fully expecting you to flip out. But what would you do? Take the money and keep quiet? Tell him to fuck off and risk losing your roommate? You can't deny the fact that he did save your life.

His grin widened as he turned and walked back to his room, humming a victorious tune.

Your temper flared, and you couldn't help but give in to the rage. You grabbed the money, balled it up, and flung it back towards Toji's bedroom.  "Don't fucking dare try to buy me off, you cheap, lustful bastard." you spat, throwing the cash back at Toji's chest.

He caught the money easily and chuckled, "Nice try, but I'm not letting you off that easily. I know you need it more than I do." He flicked the bills onto the floor, "Keep it." and before you could retort, his arms snaked around you, pulling you close.

The suddenness of Toji's movements left you stunned, but you struggled against him, your pulse racing. "Let me go, you pig!"

His lips brushed against your ear, causing your body to shiver, "Why don't you join me next time? We'll see if you can keep yourself quiet."

You froze, your breath hitching. It took all your strength to push him away and storm back into your room, slamming the door behind you.

"FUCK YOU, YOU DISGUSTING DEVIANT WHORE!!!" you shouted which elicited a chuckle from him.

And with that, you knew it wouldn't be the end. Toji's games had just begun.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

End Of Chapter 1 🥀....

[eddiesghxst]

guys yes yes i am a genius

i don’t know if you’re up to writing a perv!eddie but him and trevor are very very similar.

trevor makes more than sexual remarks, he’s disgusting in an attractive way. eddie does the same thing, he’s a stalker, if he lived in modern times he’d use your panties as a face mask, he will wake you up because your arms are around him and he gets an erection for the tenth time that night i’m not exaggerating

so i want to bring your attention to when you go see eddie play at the hideout one night, you’re starting to see him more romantically than platonically now. you wearing a short jean skirt and a white tank top with no bra that your boobs are very very visible in (my outfit rn) you’re sexy in the way that it makes eddie’s heart stop in his throat and his thighs clench as he plays guitar (shirtless?)

anyway when he meets you backstage, he’s slipping his hands under the skirt, rubbing the undersides of your thighs as you pull him closer with your belt loop. youre wrapping one arm around his neck, the other pressed against a chest tattoo.

you tell him that he has a groupie, leaving a lipstick mark on top of the tattoo

kissing him open mouth so hard and so passionately it makes his head spin (the kind of head spin when you get an orgasm and you can’t think of anything else but how good you feel except you’re literally only kissing him)

every time he punches someone for looking at y’all while you make out, every single time you tell him you can’t stand him when he does it with a small smile

every time he puts his hands in your back pockets, caressing your ass and he kisses your jaw while telling you that you can have anything you want, you can call him any name in the book if you kiss him like that one more time.

🫶 anon

oh i want him so bad jesus christ

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

eddie goes insane for you in every way shape and form, and it only intensifies after his shows. it’s a larger crowd tonight so he’s pumped on adrenaline and nerves, shredding his guitar and singing like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get to do it and you— god, you look so fucking good and it’s egging eddie on in ways he can’t explain.

the skirt you’re wearing is short, clings to your hips and thighs so deliciously eddie can’t wait to sink his teeth into you afterwards. cant wait to slip his hands under and squeeze your plushy skin until you squeal for him. cant wait to push your flimsy good-for-nothing tank top up and suck your tits into his mouth like a starved man.

and you’re just so excited for the band and how good they performed, you hardly pay attention to eddie’s hunger gaze as you walk up to them cheerfully, telling them how good they did and how proud you are.

eddie presses up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, dipping his head into the crevice of your neck and breathing in that intoxicating fucking perfume you always spray that makes him harder than a goddamn rock. he groans and you giggle, tilting your head against his as your hands rest over his large ones, squeezing as you turn in his hold to face him.

you praise him as you pepper kisses all over his face and eddie smiles, says a quick thank you before digging his teeth into his lower lip and letting his hands trail over your ass. you squirm as his hands dip beneath the denim skirt you have on. “where do you think you’re going looking this pretty, princess?” he growls, nipping at your ear as he squeezes the fat of your ass.

and you’re so thankful the lighting in the hideout is shot to shit and eddie has you pushed into a corner because nobody seems to see your boyfriend push up the back of your skirt to fully grasp your ass, thumbs dipping below the black thin string of your thong before he cracks a palm down on your skin. you yelp his name and push at him, “eddie,” you whine, “there’s people here.”

eddie chuckles and pulls down your skirt, “sorry, sweetheart. just can’t help it when it comes to you, you know that.”

and he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the night so you result to sucking him off in the restroom. not the first or last time it’s happened.

————

ALSO, bestie i did my research and i swear trevor and eddie are distant relatives bc omg😭😭😭 the mannerisms are so alike i screamed