#idk why but it just gives me so much satisfaction

[frogfemur]

when falin does that tap-tap-tapping with her dragon claw

clap if you agree

[rking200]

And here we are, at the final Sunday! ('The Final Countdown' blares in the background) Jokes aside, I hope this last chapter doesn't disappoint as the conclusion to this wild ride. It's been a wonderful time, and while I'm sad to see the fic finished it's nice to have something like this finished. I never thought I would be able to write something this long, this involved, and yet here it is sitting every-so-calmly on my AO3 <3 Thank you for everyone who's been keeping up this entire time, and welcome to anyone who was waiting for it to be completed in order to dive in. An especially big thank you to @dbh-bb and @connor-sent-by-cyberlife, as the event and collab partner that made this all possible. For some reason, Tumblr won't let me put this link in all fancy-like, so please excuse the boring link below ; ~;

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58781611/chapters/158487766

The Red Room (162392 words) by rking200 Chapters: 18/18 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600, Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Stalking, Vomiting, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Hank Anderson, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Missing Persons, Abduction, Manipulation, Death Threats, Mental Health Issues, Zlatko didn't do it, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Sex at some point Summary: Connor Stern is a law school dropout who dreams of making it big in the music industry. He manages to get into a special apprenticeship program with the musical genius Elijah Kamski and, despite working two jobs and struggling to stay afloat, feels like his dream is finally within his grasp. When Hank Anderson stumbles into the lounge Connor performs at, The Red Room, he becomes entranced with him. As Hank falls in love with Connor's voice, he ends up entangled with conflicting emotions and delicate situations. Slowly, his nights are filled with Connor's songs and his closeness, even if he feels he doesn't deserve it. They reach several roadblocks along the way of getting closer, some more dangerous than others. A collaboration written alongside Connor-sent-by-Cyberlife for the Reverse Big Bang 2024, told with a POV alternating between Hank and Connor. Chapters added weekly.

[skitskatdacat63]

"Ah I'm having trouble finding a specific source for my argument." "Have you tried chatgpt search?" Sure, let me try that after I go fucking jump off my roof first.

I hate when people offer up chatgpt to me as a solution, I would rather crawl into the depths of hell to find a proper source than ever use that devil technology(I am beginning to sound like a 19th century luddite)(I am not ashamed of this)

[saetoru]

Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹

part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed

imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).

“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.

“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”

you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.

it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.

but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.

you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.

you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.

“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)

“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)

“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”

almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”

“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?

“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.

this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.

“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”

“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”

and then you really do see him around.

sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.

and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.

today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.

i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.

today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.

and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.

and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.

except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.

“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”

“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”

he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.

“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.

“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”

“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”

“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”

you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.

“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.

“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.

“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.

“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”

somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.

i like being in control, he��d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.

you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.

you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.

it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.

does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?

and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.

but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.

evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.

but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.

yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.

they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.

and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.

it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.

sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.

you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.

or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.

that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.

like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.

and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.

it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.

and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.

you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.

it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.

he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.

you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.

when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.

“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.

satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.

“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”

“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.

you can’t have that.

“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.

“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”

his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.

“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”

for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.

it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.

“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”

“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”

there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.

you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.

you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.

“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”

“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.

“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”

“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”

“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”

“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.

something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.

“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.

maybe he does.

“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”

“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.

well….maybe he’s already succeeded.

[rninies]

✮ sleeping over - gojo satoru

synopsis: gojo satoru finally convinces you to stay over his place.

warnings: fluff, gn!reader, pouty gojo, reader loves teasing him — wc: 698

notes: new fic after idk how many days yipee hey people

satoru dislikes staying at home sometimes. it’s not about how fancy his house is or even how comfortable it is. no, it’s about not having you in the house. he loves your company a lot and is always so dependent on you. he loves hugging you, kissing you, touching you — satoru loves your presence so much that he feels like he can’t live without you (it’s such an exaggeration you say to him when he says that to you).

“y/n, baby, honey,” satoru whines. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap as you are about to stand up. “are you going to stay over tonight?”

“…mm, maybe next time,” you reply, and satoru groans.

“you always say next time, though.” satoru pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. “come on. just this once. we’ve been dating for four months now! it’s gotta happen someday.” the way he tightens his grip on your waist is a silent beg for you to stay. “please?”

you sigh, finally giving in. “okay, fine.” satoru gasps, happy. “but you will be taking care of dinner tonight.”

“okay!” satoru says in excitement. “what do you want? sushi? pizza? pasta? say anything and you’ll get it!”

you stifled a laugh. “hm, you can just make anything you want. i don’t mind.”

“okay. i’ll make us some kitsune udon.” satoru says. you nod in agreement.

satoru lets go of you, allowing you to move away from him. he takes the ingredients out and starts cooking. you silently admire satoru from the couch, looking at him cutting up the ingredients, boiling the water, and waiting for the udon to finish. as soon as he finishes, he sets the two bowls down on the table, clapping his hands in satisfaction.

“dinner’s ready!” satoru exclaims. you stand up, the smell of kitsune udon filling your nose. “mm, it smells amazing, toru!”

“of course it does.” satoru smugly says. “i’m the best cook after all. the best one you’ll ever meet in the entire world.”

“pft-” you giggled. “yeah, okay whatever you say, master chef satoru.” satoru frowns, not taking the insult (as he would call it) very well. however, instead of refuting you, he sits down at the left side of the table, far from you, and starts eating quietly. “why are you sitting so far away from me?”

“no reason why.” satoru shrugs, continuing to eat his udon. “why? you got a problem with that?”

you suppress the smile from forming on your face, knowing the reason behind this. “no. just wondering why.”

satoru frowns once more, upset at the lack of reaction. he stands up and sits next to you, slamming his bowl on the table, and spilling a little bit of the soup. “i can never get to you can i?”

“nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’. “you’re just too cute when you’re mad.”

“i hate you,” satoru mumbles. “i hate you with my every soul. i regret inviting you to stay over.”

“yeah, okay,” you say, finishing your udon. “wanna watch a movie after this?”

“yes.” satoru replies immediately. you both finish your meal, satoru immediately takes your bowl to wash it. “you can go pick the movie. if you pick the same barbie movie-”

“i am definitely watching barbie: princess charm school,” you say and rush to the couch. satoru chases after you and the both of you grab the remote, fighting over it. “hey-! come on, give me the remote, toru!”

“no way! i am not watching that movie for the tenth time this week and it’s only tuesday!” satoru says. “let me watch something i’ve been wanting to watch already! come on, let’s watch horror!”

“no way!” you exclaim, pulling the remote harder. “you know how much i hate horror! you’re the one who asked me to pick the movie for tonight so you better let me watch barbie!”

satoru pulls the remote back and it actually leaves your hand, making you lose your balance. you gasp, trying to catch your balance but you fail. satoru quickly catches you and the both of you fall on the couch. unsurprisingly, you fall on top of satoru, to which he is very happy about. “hey.” he says with a smile on his face.

“don’t say anything.” you frowned, though you were in a really comfortable position. “don’t move, actually. i’m really comfortable.”

“what?” satoru laughs. “at least let me be comfortable.” he holds you gently as he moves back to the couch. “there. and since i’m a nice host, i’ll let you watch barbie.”

“really? yeay!” your eyes sparkled happily. you grab the remote and play it. “just admit you like this movie. it’s a fun one!”

“yeah, sure.” satoru’s eyes are on you, watching the pretty smile on your face widen as the introduction to the movie starts. “i do like it.”

taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul (send an ask to be added!) <3

[kingkatsuki]

— a favour

Deku has a favour to ask of Bakugou, and he hopes you’ll be happy to oblige.

This is pretty much for Kitten idk😂😭

Warnings: 18+.

Word Count: 0.8k.

“You wanna what?” Bakugou sneers as he pushes his mask up onto his forehead, raising a brow. Completely positive that Deku hadn’t just asked him that question, there ain’t no fucking way—

“No, no, no, listen! I’ll pay you— and I just think it’ll be better with you both rather than a stranger.”

“And you think that’s a favour?” Bakugou grunts, “A favour is ‘Can you spot me?’ or ‘Can you give me a lift?’— not can I fuck your girlfriend?”

“No! I don’t want to fuck her—” A blatant lie, “I want to watch—”

“You want me to fuck my girlfriend—” Bakugou sounds on his tongue, as though that would make it make sense, “And you just wanna watch?”

“Um, well yeah.” The tips of Deku’s ears were burning crimson, tinted all the way across his cheeks as he felt his stomach knot.

After he was caught in a drunken fumble with an escort a few months ago, Midoriya had to be more careful about the company he kept. The story only failed to reach the local news outlets and social media thanks to his quick thinking HR team sending out a lengthy NDA, paired with a substantial payoff. Escorts, strangers online and Only Fans were now completely off limits. If the public found out about the Number One Heroes filthy little secret his entire image would be destroyed.

“So why not just go out and fuck a girl?” Bakugou snorts, “There’s gotta be thousands of women ready to get into the Number One’s pants.”

“It’s not just about that,” Deku flushes, trying to avoid Bakugou’s intense fiery gaze, “I like to watch—”

“So watch porn.” Bakugou scoffs, “I’m sure I’ve got plenty of fuckin’ videos on my phone that I can send ya— there’s one where I’ve got her in this posi—”

“No!” Midoriya cut him off, “I mean— I like when people are mean to me.”

Bakugou’s lips curled into a sinful grin at the realisation as he held his phone in his hands, staring down at his former school friend, “You like being degraded huh? You sick freak.”

Midoriya bit back a groan as he felt his pants tighten at the brash tone, his cock pulsing beneath the tough fabric as he shifted from foot to foot.

“And what makes you think she’d even agree to it, hah?” Bakugou knew you were more than comfortable trying out new kinks and experiences in the bedroom with him, just last week you’d filmed a raunchy CNC sex tape after your date plans had been ruined by a torrential downpour. And you were more than happy for him to share some of the moments he filmed with his best friends— But this was inviting another man, a friend, into your most intimate moments together. Nowhere near the same as sending a quick thirty second video of you bouncing on his cock to Kirishima.

“Can you at least ask her?” Midoriya mumbles, “Please?”

“Yeah, sure.” Bakugou itches his nose with the back of his hand, “I’ll tell her what a sick fuckin’ freak you are, Deku.”

Midoriya was certain he could’ve creamed his pants from the condescending lilt to Bakugou’s voice as he grabbed his towel out of his locker, his stomach lurching as he thought about whether this was what his friend was like when he was with you. Watching Bakugou disappear behind the shower stalls as Midoriya finally chanced palming his throbbing cock for a moments relief, wincing when he felt just how wet with pre his boxers were as they stuck to his skin uncomfortably, moulding to his cock as he groaned in satisfaction.

Did Bakugou talk to you like this too? So full of spite and degredation— Did the same thing get you off too? Or was his voice soft and full of praise as he plowed into your sloppy cunt.

“Oi,” Bakugou shouted across the locker room as Midoriya laced his red trainers. He definitely couldn’t shower here, not now. He had to make it home— looking up to see Bakugou standing there with a towel slung low on his hips, a smirk on his face as he held his phone in the air. And Midoriya noticed he was on video chat with you, wondering whether Bakugou was talking to you while he was in the shower— “She said she wants to play your nasty little game, Deku.”

And here Midoriya was, not even forty-eight hours later. Sitting at the foot of your bed while Bakugou split you apart on his cock—

“She didn’t believe me when I told her, you know.” Bakugou sneers, a warm palm cupping your jaw to direct your debauched face to his friends green gaze, “Couldn’t believe that precious little Deku would be such a sick little freak.”

[jeanmoreautemple]

TGR wrap up thoughts:

Chapter 17 might just be the worst torture in the whole series. This is why I can’t read an Andrew POV book. My heart woudn’t take it. I hope Zane gets paralyzed or gets killed violently or something.

Chloé Moreau was a full on mob wife that could have civilians killed just like that? And the Algerian arms dealer that Elodie was sold to was a contact of hers?? Carmela Soprano or Connie Corleone vibes I’d say.

JEAN HAS A CHILDHOOD!! EXY YOUTH!! TEAMMATE!!! THAT CARES!! and knew about Elodie!!!!

I want to apologize to everyone for doubting Jerejean being balanced, it’s clear Jeremy will need Jean as much as Jean needs him.

Jeremy exclusively sleeping with people who treat him like his family??? Belittling his efforts and calling him a whore?? Who choke him and don’t care that they leave marks on him?

Jean finding Laila hot!! Jeremy wasn’t completely lying when he told his mom Jean had a crush on her, and I know it makes him nervous.

Annalise blushing just from seeing Jean in person- the satisfaction I felt was unmeasurable.

Jeremy obsessing over Jean’s taste in women but not in men? Getting crazy jealous of Laila, Renee and Annalise but not Kevin? Interesting.

Jean knowing how to braid hair!!! Because of Elodie!! 🥲 Laila brushing Jean’s hair and Jean braining hers??

So many wrist and temple kisses???? This is beautiful. And in a Nora book??

Elodie is officially “missing” and interpol can’t track her sale? Oh Nora don’t make me hope…

If she’s actually dead then both Noah and Elodie would have been dead for 4 years as of 2007, assuming Elodie was killed shortly after being sold to the armsdealer in Algiers.

Jean is already good at cooking, ceramics and knows how to drive a motorcycle 🥹

Jeremy’s biological dad is in Korea? He was removed af with Jeremy in their call but I seriously think he’s gonna support Jeremy if he decides to leave the Wilshires.

Jeremy and Jean being called faggots and whores by Jeremy’s hookups, his biological brother, Warren Wilshire, the press and other exy players, and just about anyone outside the Trojans… it was enough with Jean’s rumours and Lucas… WHYYY NORA

Overall Colleen, Thea and Sergio and this Finn might have been the nicest ravens to Jean? But he still puts Zane in that group after chapter 17 wtf.

Jeremy craving Jean so badly when Jean leaned into him and was between his legs in the hotel room vs Jean getting immediately uneasy and putting Jabberwocky between them when Jeremy put his head near Jean’s crotch area… I can’t wait to see how Nora will handle them getting intimate.

A word for word confirmation that every single person in the nest knew Jean’s age. I don’t have to delete my three posts about it yayy.

Now the public knows Jean’s age too!!! Hope the slut shaming drecreases a bit too.

Jeremy needs to cry. In Jean’s arms.

William Hunter basically saying he’s on Jeremy’s side and not Mathilda’s… I hope they keep in touch when Jeremy leaves for good / Mathilda & Warren kick him out in book 3. I wonder if he’s gonna be the one to give Jeremy his passport and other documents ?

Derek, Derrick and Sebastian not being sure whether Jean likes girls but not having any doubts on whether he likes men lmao.

Cody going “can I ask you something? You can lie…” when he mentioned that Jeremy must absolutely love how Jean says his name hshshsh EVERYBODY KNOWS.

Renee and Jean lying to each other when they ask if they are okay 🙃

Renee supporting Jerejean?? Idk how to feel about that, it’s been only a few months! She’s stronger than me for sure.

Cat and Jean matching bikes!!!

Aaron driving Andrew’s car after the trial!!!! LETS GOOO

Andrew and Renee being press partners and Andrew not saying a single word, BFFs.

Idk how to feel about the Ravens going psycho on live TV. They weren’t even playing or trying to hide it, they were just swinging for the foxes. I felt like it was all very convenient and kinda fanservicey.

Thea showing up again for like 3 pages and fruitfully telling the new gen ravens to kill themselves?? I’ll take it😭 but proclaiming absolute loyalty to old racist Tetsuji? Didn’t Jean say that he killed a freshman boy in her last year?

Jeremy and Renee speaking for the first time on the phone, about Jean!! How awkward was it? I want them to meet in person but it’d be so bittersweet for Jeanee.

Cat and Laila suspiciously made absolute 0 comments on Jerejean this book, when even Renee was teasing. Jeremy erasing the text message about Renee’s looks so Laila wouldn’t start asking questions, but then he just openly searches for a Marseillais French teacher? They are being careful af.

Jeremy blurting to Jean “Maybe Laila’s not as good with her tongue” is CRAZYyy and Jean recovering surprisingly well by saying “I will tell her you said that” . It’s as if Jeremy always has his feelings in check except with sex?? He’s worse than Jean.

I still can’t believe Warren called Jeremy you little faggot just like that. Fuck him, Mathilda and Bryson.

Kevin’s exy tunnel vision was depressive af to read: “Everything I want and need still lies ahead of me; it is a waste of time to look back so long as that holds true” ????? But he needs to drink to talk and lie about the nest and Riko??

I get Kevin and Thea have grown complacent with the nest and don’t have much need to challenge what they saw and experienced because they love exy first and foremost and they are doing great in that regard but omg I can’t believe Jean is close to being the healthiest ex Raven???

Bryson was such a caricaturesque loser villain, he got beaten up by Jean and only ran away to show his mommy?? He better have been the one to leak Jean’s address.

Oh James Rhemann… the man that you are.

Once again I want to erase chapter 17 from my mind. The trilogy finale better be the happiest I’ve ever seen.

WILL JOSHUA SHOW UP?

Jean’s childhood teammate’s letter, the marseillais tutor, Chloé revealed to call some serious shots in the Moreau family? I think it’s all a big giant red herring towards Elodie 🥹

[mdsbabygirl]

Being in a poly relationship w these two..

An imagine+ Headcanons

Pairing: Otoya Eita x FEM! reader x Karasu Tabito

Genre: fluff+smut

Wc: 2k

Cw: threesome, use of pet names, vulgar language, jealousy, a lot of flirting, double penetration, oral, a bit of exhibitionism if you squint reaaaaly hard.. idk..

NOT PROOFREAD

Otoya is a master of flirtation, always surprising you with his unexpected and playful advances. Whenever you're at a party or in public, he'll casually do ninja moves with his hands, which would end in him holding your hand, or pulling you closer, or simply tickling your side. His flirting is so refined yet silly that it always leaves you giggling while a soft flush paints your cheeks.

In contrast, Karasu is more straightforward, often acting like a know-it-all. He has a habit of explaining complex topics to you, sometimes even mansplaining shit even when you don't wanna hear it. Despite his condescending nature, you can tell that Karasu deeply cares for you. He still insists that everyone is a moron and an idiot, but he makes sure to reassure you that he doesn't think you're clueless.

Together, the three of you make for a dynamic couple. The two men always make you feel both adored and secure in the relationship. When Karasu is at his exasperating best, Otoya is there to lighten the mood with his flirting, and vice versa.

You really feel privileged to be in the company of these two remarkable men, each bringing their unique strengths to the table.

Now that we've got that settled, let's see what kind of boyfriends they'd be like?

I think Otoya would be that kind of overly flirtatious bf, the kind to make you flustered at any moment, just to see how cute you look with your face all flushed. Also I reckon he'd like seeing you get jealous over him. He'd think it's such a turn on seeing your lovely face with a slight scowl on it, or a cute pout whenever you see him get a little too chatty with some girls.. I mean Otoya's got the charms ok, so it's inevitable he gets bitches. So whenever girls come around him just to "chat" he would talk to them, flashing his hot smirk and flatter them w compliments, like any womanizer would do.. HOWEVER, when he sees you get too mad he smugly looks at the bitches he was taking to and goes like "sorry ladies, I'm taken! My pretty gf is literally shooting daggers at me with her eyes, can't make the love of my life mad now can't I?!" And mind you, he says this with the hottest, most heart throbbing, pussy clenching, hot asf tone before looking at you and winking.

Eita loves you, he really does, you're the only woman he ever thinks about, the only person he has in his heart, and if you'd ever asked him to give you his heart he'd literally give it to you, but still he can't deny himself the satisfaction from seeing you get so mad.. it gives him such an ego boost.

As for Karasu, I don't think he'd be much on making you get jealous. I think he'd be kinda cold in the relationship, maybe not too much of a talkative unlike Eita. This doesn't mean he can't make you a flustering mess with just one gesture. I think he's the type to just randomly wrap an arm around you and pull you closer. This time, like Otoya, Karasu enjoys having you in his proximity, feeling your body's warmth on his makes him feel good, and happy to have you as his gf. (Maybe that's why he's always touching you whenever he's pounding you, but we'll get to that later lol) when you'd look up at him to ask him why he did that all of the sudden, he'd smirk, looking down at you telling you "you're mine sweetie, I can have you around as much as I want!" He'd say that with his charming voice, making you melt inside, blushing like an idiot schoolgirl. Of course he'd chuckle, pointing out how much of a flushing mess you are, which once again makes you even more flustered.

Now.. remember when I told you Otoya would get you jealous on purpose? Yeah, imagine he's doing that during a party, and of course you're pissed. Like you were supposed to enjoy your time together, but he decided it was a good time to bitch around(lol). So now you're like third.. no maybe fourth or even fifth wheeling, while some girls are flirting w your Otoya, so now you're sipping on your drink all alone.. Then, smug bitchy Karasu comes up to you from behind, and whispers something in your ear. He was shitting on Otoya's Rizz, which made you giggle. When he turned to see what you were chuckling at, Karasu was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, tilting your chin up, "he's such a moron! I don't know how he could let such a gorgeous girl like you go!" He affirmed, looking pettily at Eita before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "You're my only one!" He confessed to you, but mostly it was to piss off Otoya.

Oh yes, these two are highly competitive when it comes to you. Every situation is a good opportunity for them to show how much of a good bf they can be and how they can be better than the other. It has always been like this, ever since the first moment they laid eyes on you. The first time they saw you, you were so gorgeous (you still are btw ❤️), looking ever so confident, your pretty hair swayed gracefully as you walked, and your angelic face really did a number on them. They bantered endlessly, arguing who would be the most suitable bf for you, until they both said fuck It, and they confessed to you at the same time.. you were so fluttered, your cheeks tinting a pink color, as you told them you liked them both and wanted to date them at the same time. They were a bit surprised at first but then they were fine with it, it could be interesting.. and sexy.

Back to our little scenario, otoya seeing the scene before him, just left the girls and walked up to you, and with a smirk said "my my ... What's happening here?" As he too wrapped an arm around your frame. He looked intensely in Karasu's eyes, another one of their stupid male contest shit. You knew that you had to intervene otherwise this would've led to them bantering. "Ok, what if we just stop with this childishness?!" You asked, putting yourself between the two men, "what childishness princess? I don't see anything childish in showing my love for you" said Eita, who hugged you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, still looking smugly at Karasu. "Ha, weren't you flirting w some other girls just a few seconds ago?!" Chuckled Tabito.

Oh fuck.. not only were you now sandwiched between your two overly egoistic and competitive bfs, but they were also in the middle of their stupid bickering. "That is none of your business, plus, my sweet y/n knows I didn't mean any of that!" He said in a more deeper voice, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, before plastering a wet kiss on your very hot skin. "She knows I only have eyes for her, right y/n?" He asked, his sultry voice succefully seducing you, making you feel tingles of excitement. Your breath started to become slightly heavier, as  you now felt Karasu's presence even closer than before, his face now low enough to face you, "well you're not the only one who has eyes for her dumbass" he spoke to his friend, his hand caressing your cheek as his body pressed flush on yours, his hardening bulge pressing on your lower abdomen... Oh shit, things are starting to heat up pretty quickly..

Otoya seeing this, pressed his hard-on on your butt too... Your face was now a deep shade of red, your mind too fogged by a forming lust to even find words. The men seeing your state, smirked, deciding it was best to continue this at home..

The night of passion begins with Otoya tenderly kissing your neck and shoulders, his fingers trailing down your body. Meanwhile, Karasu, is making out with you, his plush lips dancing in unison with yours as his tongues explores your mouth. His hands are on your breasts, massaging the soft mounds and teasing your hardened nipples.

Your arousal builds as the two men take turns worshiping your body. Their mouths and hands work in perfect unison, leaving you begging for them.

Now there's a few possibilities to what comes next, it's either they take turns eating you out, or it's just one of them who does that while the other gets a handjob..

When they're needy for your pussy, they'd take turns devouring your cute cunt. When Otoya's eating you out, his style can be best described as fluid, creative, and fun. He likes to tease, starting by licking around the outer lips of your vagina, tasting your sweet nectar. As he works his way in, his tongue undulates around your clit, occasionally sucking gently on it.

He varies his approach, sometimes using the flat of his tongue to tease the length of your slit or flicking it across your sensitive clit with a playful lightness. Eita's skilled at using his fingers, too, often rubbing your G-spot as he laps at your folds.

Karasu's oral sex style is a bit rougher, more determined. He wastes no time in getting to the heart of the matter. Once he positions himself between your legs, he applies pressure with his tongue, pressing firmly against your clit. The sensation is intense, and it always leaves you gasping for breath. Unlike otoya, Tabito is not one for teasing. He knows the spots to hit and focuses his efforts there. This direct approach, combined with his strong tongue, makes your body go soft like putty.

That's why, Otoya's behind you, holding you tightly as he kisses you intensely and whispers endless praises in your ear. These two men might be competitive sometimes, but just like in soccer those two make a great team, especially if it's for the purpose of pleasing you.

As for the second possiblity it depends, when one of them is devouring your puffy cunny, and the other is way too horny, I think they just take your hand and wrap it around their painfully hard cock, making you move your hand until you get what they want, so u start pumping their shaft, which elicits a moan from them ..

Now for penetration... It's inevitable the two of them would wanna fill your holes at the same time.. so each of them picks a hole to fuck for the night.. Easy🫠..

As they finally sink into you, you're enveloped by the warmth of their bodies and the euphoria of being desired by such exceptional men.

Otoya, known for his fluidity, starts with slow, deliberate thrusts, he fills you completely, drawing you in with each inward motion. And Karasu enters you with precision, his cock gliding inside, stretching you and filling you with his girth.

Your moans meld with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. The two men in perfect sync, their rhythms intertwining. The feeling of fullness is both overwhelming and exhilarating, making you cum so quickly, therefore making you clench so hard around them. The constant fluttering of your holes from the continuous stimulation drives the two men over the edge, spilling their seed deep inside your abused holes; or making them pull out and cumming on different part of your bodies, sometimes your face, your stomach, mouth.. it depends from their mood.

As the intensity of your lovemaking subsides, you find solace in the warmth of your two loving boyfriends. They tenderly cradle you, basking in the afterglow, and gently stroke your hair. The air is thick with the heady scent of sex and shared intimacy.

In this post-coital repose, you all revel in the vulnerability that comes with exposure. Y'all share whispers of love, appreciation, and tenderness. Eita, known for his charm and wit, might quip a joke, eliciting a soft giggle from you.

Karasu, ever the logical one, takes the opportunity to check in with you. He inquires about any needs or concerns, showing his thoughtful side.

In the end your trio, entwined, revels in the sweet calm that follows the storm of passion.

© mdsbabygirl do not copy or translate my work without my permission

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Pure

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Halfblood!Reader

Warnings: Mattheo is a jerk, insults towards half-bloods, idk

Mattheo and you have always been enemies. Mattheo insults you perhaps to try to distract himself from his undeniable feelings for you, you insult him back, thats part of you routine. One night, in the common room, Mattheo goes too far and you cry. He feels guilty and tries to fix it, but you have had enough.

The Slytherin common room was dim, the flickering green fire casting shadows over the stone walls as you tried to focus on your notes. It was late, and you were hoping to get a few minutes of quiet studying, but the familiar sound of footsteps approaching made you tense up. Without even turning, you knew who it was.

Mattheo Riddle strode in, his left foot repetitively tapping the floor as he lingered just close enough for you to feel the weight of his gaze. He watched you for a moment, his face unreadable, his stance unusually calm. Normally, he was quick to throw in a smug remark, but tonight he just stood there, looking at you with an intensity you couldn’t quite place.

“Still studying?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. You almost missed the gentleness there, but it was quickly overrun by a familiar sneer as he added, “Thought you’d be used to all this by now.”

You glanced up, surprised to see him looking at you with something close to curiosity. “Some of us actually care about our studies,” you said, keeping your tone neutral, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves his stare was stirring up.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said, an almost mocking note creeping into his voice. “Trying to prove you’re as good as the rest of us, aren’t you?”

The words hit a nerve, but you ignored it, burying yourself back in your notes. This was how it always was with Mattheo—him throwing barbs, you dodging them, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

He moved closer, leaning over your shoulder, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You can study as much as you like, but you know you’ll never be more than what you are. You’re never going to be one of us.”

You stiffened, feeling the familiar ache that his words always seemed to stir up, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you forced yourself to stay calm, to keep your voice steady. “And what exactly do you mean by that, Mattheo?”

His smirk widened, and there was a flicker of cruelty in his eyes. “Come on, don’t make me spell it out,” he sneered. “You can wear the Slytherin crest, you can memorize all the spells you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re not pure. That’s something you can’t study your way out of.”

His words hurt, they were calculated to wound, and for a moment, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. But you forced them down, refusing to give him the satisfaction. This was Mattheo’s favorite way to get to you—digging at the one thing he knew would make you feel like an outsider. But tonight, the anger in his words seemed more intense, his gaze harsher, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d come here tonight with every intention of making you feel as low as possible.

You took a steadying breath, meeting his gaze with as much strength as you could muster. “I didn’t realize blood status was so important to you, Mattheo. Didn’t think the Dark Lord’s son would be so old-fashioned.”

A flash of anger crossed his face, and his smirk faltered. But he recovered quickly, stepping back and crossing his arms, his expression hardening. “It’s not about being old-fashioned. It’s about knowing your place,” he said coldly. “I don’t know why you’re so desperate to prove you belong here when you’ll never be a real Slytherin.”

Your chest tightened, his words sinking in deeper than you wanted to admit. You looked away, trying to keep your expression calm, but his voice just kept cutting through the air, each word sharper than the last.

“It’s pathetic, really,” he went on, his tone dripping with disdain. “Watching you pretend like any of this matters, like you’re somehow the exception. But the truth is, you can’t change what you are.”

“Why do you even care?” you shot back, unable to hold the question in any longer. “Why are you so determined to tear me down every chance you get?”

He opened his mouth, a flicker of something softer crossing his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced with that same cold, calculating look. “I don’t care,” he said flatly, though his tone wavered for a second. “I just think it’s pathetic, the way you try so hard to be one of us.”

The words sank in, every syllable feeling like another twist of the knife. You could feel the heat of tears in your eyes, and you quickly blinked them away, refusing to let him see how much his words had cut. But he saw something in your expression—some tiny flicker of pain—and for just a moment, his own face softened, like he was almost… regretful.

He shifted awkwardly, glancing down and rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “Look, I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, his voice low, almost unsure. “I just—”

“Yes, you did,” you interrupted, your voice trembling despite yourself. “You meant every word. You always do.”

He looked at you, his face falling, the usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. For a second, it almost looked like he wanted to take it all back, but he seemed lost, unable to find the words.

“I just…” he started, but you cut him off.

“I don’t care, Mattheo,” you said, swallowing hard to keep your voice steady. “I don’t care what you meant, or why you feel the need to make me feel like this. Just leave me alone.”

You watched as the regret in his eyes deepened, his expression twisting with something almost like pain. He looked away, his shoulders slumping as though he was trying to hide the guilt etched across his face. He hesitated, lingering for a moment, like he wanted to apologize but couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Fine,” he muttered finally, his voice barely audible. “If that’s what you want.”

There was no arrogance in his tone, no sneer in his expression. Just a hollow, defeated look as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty common room. But just before he reached the door, he stopped and glanced back at you, his eyes shadowed with something raw and unspoken, as if he was silently begging for another chance.

But you stayed silent, your eyes cold as you watched him go, refusing to give him even the slightest hint of forgiveness.

And as the door closed behind him, you let out a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling heavy in your chest. He was gone, but the ache of his insults lingered, echoing through the empty room.

[beenbaanbuun]

blood w/ poly!ateez

so i feel so sane about this… definitely no evil thoughts filling up my brain right now. none whatsoever :)

i want to write so much more about this universe and i’m literally sending the biggest kiss ever to @ateez-main-yapper to requesting this because i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life!

words - idk

genre - smut, horror (there’s a bit of gore i guess)

warnings - vampire!ateez, mafia!ateez, human!reader, smuggler!reader, blood, scarification, collars, ownership, blood, surgery mentions, nicknames (little mouse, princess, sweetheart), dancer!yeosang, security guard!mingi, ripper!doctor!yunho, mommy!seonghwa (don’t look at me like that, i had to), hand kink (mentioned), no actual sex but it’s talked about a lot, hair pulling, i think that’s all??

——————————————————————————

the scent of stale blood haunts the hallway you find yourself walking down, clinging to the back of your throat until yourself gagging on it. no matter how many times you find yourself down here, it never gets any easier to cope with; even a slaughterhouse would be more pleasant than this.

it begs the question why you’re back. by now, you’ve bled them of enough money to never have to work again, so it’s certainly not the pay. the job itself is harder than most, and not at all rewarding when you have to lie and cheat your way into success. there’s no doubt that the stress of hiding a smuggling operation behind the guise of a blood donation clinic has taken a good 20 years of your life from you. you can guarantee that job satisfaction isn’t what’s keeping you here either.

it’s only when you turn a corner and your eyes land upon them that you remember exactly why you’re still so willing to walk these halls. it isn’t something keeping you here but rather someone; multiple someones, in fact.

“mingi!” your footsteps quicken as you get closer the security guard that stands waiting outside of a heavy metal door. despite the fact that you’ve been on the other side of it multiple times, it still sends a shiver of curiosity down your spine. it’s not an anxious curiosity as it was when you first landed yourself in this position, but more of a morbid one. you know the horrors that lie behind it, you’ve experienced a few of them too, yet you still yearn to see more. “long time no see,” you offer a polite smile once you’re close enough to lower your volume from a shout, “san told me hongjoong had assigned you to pest control. is it not going well?”

mingi gives you a slow blink, his jaw set in stone and his eyes steely as he stares you down. he’s always looked far more intimidating than he actually is, although you suppose it serves to his benefit when his main job it scaring away anyone who might wish to disturb the peace. you’re only grateful to have had the chance to see behind the mask he wears; to watch his eyes melt and his lips part in the wonky grin he gets so little time to wear.

“you’ve not seen me in months and the first thing you ask me is about my demotion back to security?” he quirks a brow at you and you have to bite back your grin. in truth, you’d heard all about it from seonghwa over the past few weeks, your main contact within the clan more than happy to share life details with you as though you’re a lifelong friend rather than a mere employee. their favourite employee, sure, but still at the bottom of the pecking order.

“i just wanted to know more,” you lift your arms in defence, not missing the way his eyes flicker to the bandage on your left forearm, “like you said, it’s been a while.”

mingi hums in agreement as he examines the clean cloth. a long finger reaches out to trace the spot where the fabric meets your skin, the touch lingering and soft. it’s more the real mingi than it is the security guard mingi; it warms your heart to see.

“when did this happen?” he whispers, voice barely above a whisper.

“about two weeks ago,” you i pull your wrist back, letting mingi’s hand drop back down to his side, “hongjoong wanted to approach me about it, but i didn’t take much convincing,” actually, it was you who approached him but for some reason that’s much harder to admit, “you guys are much… kinder to me than the other clans i supply, well, supplied to. it was a no brainer to ditch them when given the chance.”

“so you’re ours?” he asks, voice dipping a little too low for the question to be purely innocent.

“i’m mine,” you confirm, “what i supply, however, is all yours.”

there’s a smirk on his lips, not as easily defeated by your sense of self worth as you’d like him to be. he knows as well as the rest of them what the mark on your arm means, after all. he knows as well as you do that there’s no getting away from them now. the moment yunho took his sweet, sadistic time carving their mark into your body it wasn’t just your business that belonged to them.

“sure you are, little mouse,” he whispers as he leans in close, his icy breath fluttering against your face. your stomach drops but you choose to ignore it. this was your decision, after all, “now, scurry along; you wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”

with the flip of a switch, the metal door clicks open and your immediately met with a blast of cool air and a wall of sound. you’ll never understand the clan’s need for these constant frivolities, especially when you’re on the other side of this getting your hands dirty, but you suppose it is a good way to hide their more secretive operations. no one is going to notice the door in the corner when there’s so much going on out here, right? it’s an extra layer of security, and a darn good one at that.

when you step inside, the door clicks shut behind you and you immediately get to scanning the crowd of partygoers for a familiar face. amongst the hoard of vampires, they’re harder to spot, their ashy skin and red eyes sticking out a lot less than they would next to a human. instead you look for a familiar hair colour, recalling the angry text you got from seonghwa about the den’s main bathroom turning pink with hongjoong’s hairdye. nothing sticks out at you, though, and so you’re back at square one.

your arms stretch out before you as you go to push through the crowd. it’s moments like this that you’re glad for the metal, almost collar-like band around your neck. yeosang had created it as a way to keep your pulse hidden from any less-well-meaning vampires. he’d insisted that the tag dangling from it with the clan’s emblem engraved was all hongjoong’s idea, but you recognise the same possessive glint in all of their eyes. it’s the same one yunho had given you when engraving that very emblem into your body, and the same one san had given to you when wrapping your bleeding arm up in a fluffy white bandage. yeosang is just like the rest of them, even behind his sweet exterior.

but right now he isn’t crafting some marvel of engineering out of metal scraps and a dream, but instead on the stage at the front of the room. it’s not often he’s up there instead of one of the others, but as you watch him elegantly dangle from a hoop that hangs from the ceiling, you find it hard to see why. he’s utterly ethereal, like a butterfly about to emerge from a chrysalis; one of those blue ones with the wings that seemed designed to capture your attention with their beauty. you’re entranced, much more so than the rest of the party-goers who seem to have grown blind to the creature moving elegantly before them.

his body moves not at all like a butterfly though, instead flowing smoothly like a viper along the branch of a tree. he extends his arms in such a way you’ve never seen before, silken and smooth as he reaches out to his audience. it pulls you in further, your feet shuffling as you push through the final layer of people to get to the stage. you stumble forwards, catching yourself on the edge of the raised platform. if he notices you there, he doesn’t show it; the stoic expression he wears remains steady as he gracefully shifts his body into yet another position.

you watch him like that until the end of his performance, unblinking with your lips parted in awe. even the way he tumbles to the floor and bows to an uninterested audience holds so much more grace than you think you will ever possess. to think that this is the man that spends half of his time smeared in motor oil with a puppy-like grin on his lips is strange, yet it feels so right.

“hello, little mouse,” he echoes the familiar nickname as he makes his way to the front of the stage, crouching down in front of you and running an all-too-confident finger along your jawline to your chin. he snaps your mouth shut in a way that is so far from the yeosang you know that part of you believes this must be his much cockier twin. “hongjoong is out tonight; some trouble on south side caught his attention so he wanted to clean up the mess before the police got there.”

“i’m meeting with seonghwa then?” you murmur, too starstruck for your mouth the form words properly.

yeosang shakes his head.

“seonghwa and san went with him,” the finger from your chin shifts down to the piece of jewellery that fits snug around your neck. his touch catches against the tag, the jingling sound reminding you of a bell on a cats collar. you try to ignore the smirk that rises to his face as sees you make the connection, instead shifting your gaze to the pendant around his neck that shares the same symbol. “yunho is busy with whatever sick shit gets him off, me and mingi are working which means…”

fuck.

“jongho and wooyoung.”

“clever mouse,” yeosang’s tone is venomous, despite his words being soft. clearly performing does something to his ego; inflates it until every sign of the sweet mechanic is hidden behind a thick shroud of confidence. it’s deliciously cruel, mirroring the sick sadism of yunho or the vast overconfidence of mingi, and holy fuck do you want a taste. perhaps later, once business is over.

if business is over.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about those two, though,” he continues, tugging on the tag of your collar—because despite your pride, even you have to admit that there’s no other way to describe it—until you’re face is merely inches from his own, “hongjoong promised yunho their balls if they can’t learn to control them. maybe you’ll finally be able to have a meeting with them before getting your pussy stuffed, hm?”

you feel yourself getting warmer, your face flushing as yeosang so blatantly talks about your track record with the pair of resident trouble makers. it’s not like you’ve let slip about all the times jongho’s had you sitting on his cock with your mouth wrapped around wooyoung’s the second you step into their office which means that they must have instead. it makes you wonder what they talk about whenever you’re not here, and how much each of them know about your less than professional escapades with each of them. it’s a troubling thought, and yet it’s still manages to light a fire deep in your belly.

“see you later, yeosang,” is the only thing you can mumble in response as you pull away from his touch, the tag of the collar bumping gently against your neck as it slips free of his fingers.

——————-

“you told the others about fucking me?” you scoff as you barge your way into the office where the two youngest vampires await your arrival. it’s nice to see them here already, since they usually arrive far later than the agreed upon time. although, you suppose with the delays of mingi and yeosang, you’re also late on this occasion. you let the passive-aggressive comment about time keeping slide, knowing it won’t help you right now.

“hello to you too, mousy,” wooyoung hums from where he lays on the green sofa in the corner of the room, “it’s nice to see you again! we’re doing wonderfully, by the way; thanks for a—”

you let the door slam behind you as you storm your way towards him, completely ignoring the curious gaze of jongho.

“cut the shit, wooyoung,” you grab hold of his shirt collar and lean in close. it’s supposed to be intimidating but the wide grin on his lips lets you know otherwise. “you’ve all been talking about me when i’m not here? what the fuck, man!”

wooyoung chuckles in your face, his dangerous fangs glinting beneath the overhead lights. you know he’d never bite without your permission—people have been killed by hongjoong for much less—but it still sends a shiver through you whenever you see them.

“you’re not exactly discrete yourself, princess,” the office chair creaks as jongho stands, making his way around his desk and towards you. although you keep your gaze firmly on the little rat who still sits giggling to himself, you can’t help but be hyper aware of the presence behind you. a large hand traces its way up your spine, not stopping until you feel his fingers lace themselves with your locks and tug. your grip fall limply from wooyoung’s shirt as you’re hauled back into the soft muscle of jongho’s chest, your neck craned awkwardly over his shoulder to keep you in place. “what do you want us to say when san is asking about who’s cum he’s eaten from your pussy? do you want us to lie to them?”

you squirm, wincing when his grip on your hair doesn’t loosen despite your attempts to break free. they call you little mouse and right now, you really do feel the part—you walked right into a trap of which there’s no way out.

“maybe i should let you fuck me again just so i can watch when yunho rips your fucking balls off your body!” you grunt through gritted teeth.

jongho hums in amusement, “it was hyperbole, sweetheart,” a pair of cold lips meet the hot skin of your cheek for just a second before pulling away, the softness a stark contrast to the harsh grip he still has you in, “he doesn’t care how much we fuck you as long as we get the job done. after all, he’d be a hypocrite to complain about us fucking you when his dick is inside of you twice as often, hm?”

you watch with cautious eyes as wooyoung stands from his place on the sofa, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat. it reeks of danger, yet you’ve never been the type to give into that sort of thing. you’re a human working for a bunch of vampires; danger is just a regular part of your life at this point.

“besides, mousy,” the cheshire cat purrs, “you think we’re the only ones who talk? you don’t think we know just how much you love calling seonghwa mommy when you ride him? or how much you love it when yeosang spits in your mouth whenever he’s fucking you dumb?” wooyoung brings a hand to your cheek, dusting over your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re ours, little mouse; we can talk if we want.”

[bring-forth-his-sac]

so I watched The Losers (yes, because I wanted to gawk at JDM for 90 minutes) and I kept noticing how much he held his partner's hand in it😭💕 and so of course I had to write a lil drabble about this but with Negan lmao

tags: mentions of nudity, aftercare, established relationship, this is seriously just goofy idk why I wrote this

I didn’t proof read this, pls be kind xoxoxoxoxoxo

word count: 950

Bated breaths, shaky legs and a whole lot of sweat. That’s how your night has been going. 

The trail of discarded clothes that leads to the bed is a testament to the passion of the last few hours. Catching your breath, the cool air caresses your bare skin as you sprawl out on the soft bed sheets.

Beside you is Negan, his breathing just as ragged. You both lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling and completely worn out. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your mingled breaths of recovery.

A hum escapes your lips when you feel Negan’s touch. His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle embrace. Negan lets out a content sigh, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he remarks “Now that was quite a workout”.

He runs his other hand through his tousled hair as parts begin to curl and flick out in different directions. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you groan, though you’re not complaining.

Negan chuckles, nudging you closer to him “Guess I did a damn good job then, huh?”. Taking the hint, you roll over, momentarily letting go of his hand as you reposition yourself.

You pay no attention to the brief pout that crosses Negan’s face. His shift of expression only lasts momentarily, quickly fading once you take his hand again and interlock your fingers with his. 

“You wanna have a bath?” Negan offers. He knows you’re both exhausted but the thought of sharing a moment of intimacy with you in the suds has its own allure.

“Honestly? I think I just wanna change into something comfy and sleep until noon” you admit, the prospects of a bath sounding more like a chore than a luxury. Tomorrow you’ll shower and start fresh. Tonight, after the last few rounds you’ve had, you just want to sleep.

“Sounds like a plan” he agrees with a weary grin. 

With a groan, you move to get up, giving Negan’s hand a small squeeze as you go to release your grip. But you don’t. You can’t. As you sit up on the bed, your hand stays entangled with Negan’s.

You glance down at your joined hands and then back up at him.

Your voice is laced with amusement as you try to break free from his grip. “…Negan,” you say, shaking your hand as if you're trying to shake off droplets of water “y’know I kinda need my hand back if I want to get dressed”.

Negan looks up at you, his expression almost comically petulant. The look in his eyes is one of sheer stubbornness and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“So if I don’t let go, you’re staying butt-ass naked?” He smirks, his gaze roaming over you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let. Me. Go. Put. My. Clothes. On” you punctuate each word with a tug of your hand, trying to pry his fingers away from yours as you stand up by the edge of the bed. 

But despite your best efforts to free yourself, he easily holds on, his long limbs giving him the advantage.

“C’mon now, don’t go running off,” Negan teases, his grip unwavering but gentle as he attempts to pull you back on to the bed “aftercare is good for ya, and I gotta take care of my girl!”.

“Clothes are good for me too!” You try to argue back, not caring if you’re being just as silly as him.

Negan chuckles and makes no attempt to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, appreciating every curve and contour. “Yeah, well, not when I'm around”. 

With a sudden yank from Negan, you let out an “oof” sound as you collide with him, finding yourself laying on his chest yet again, pressed against his warm, naked body. He gives you a smug grin, squeezing your hand in his, just to let you know he’s won this silly little battle. 

“Hmph” you try to give him a glare but he quickly steals a kiss from your lips, completely wiping your scowl away. 

You look down at Negan, a soft smile playing on your lips as he lays beneath you, his hand holding yours against his chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart and the tickle of his chest hair on your wrist. Negan meets your gaze, his eyes drinking in your face with deep affection.

Damn him. As much as you have him wrapped around your finger, you’re most definitely wrapped around his too. “Fine, we can do it your way,” you relent, snuggling closer and resting your head on his chest “but I swear if one of your men come barging in here—“

“Then they’ll be going on the fence with the rest of the dead pricks, don’t you worry, baby” he reassures you, kissing the top of your head. 

As you close your eyes to relax, Negan lifts his head up, quickly scanning the bed for any blanket within reach. He spots the one hanging off the bottom of the bed and internally debates whether it's worth the effort to reach it. 

Negan lets his head fall back down on his pillow, abandoning the idea of blankets for now. Instead, his eyes travel over you appreciatively, taking in every dip and contour of your bare skin. He lets out a sigh, becoming certain that a blanket isn’t needed for now.

After all, why would he want a blanket to cover his amazing view?

[vyainide]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ kento, shoko & thigh riding

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤnanami kento, ieiri shōko

tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, afab! reader, nsfw, vague bdsm dynamic (for both), brat taming (nanami), a littleeeee bit of sadism and dacryphilia (shōko)

from vyon. i... got carried away... sorry... idk why shōko's was more beautiful and poetic and symbolic, lesbians just do it for me, shoot the messenger ig 😰😰 wanted to get this out on the 3rd but shhhhhh 🤫 NEARLY LOST THIS DRAFT TO MY DUMB WIFI 😭😭😭 ( & @sugojosgf cheer up baby 🫀🫀)

nanami swears he hates this as much as you do. he hates having to punish you for being a brat but he knows what has to be done when he's met with that petulant frown, your eyebrows pinched together like the foldings of an envelope that'll only reveal the simmering annoyance in your eyes when he drags a hand over your jaw, nodding your head up to his gaze. he takes in the subtle way you flinched when he breathes a deep breath through his nose— obvious disappointment in his ministrations. he doesn’t like out–right denying you though, and you appreciate that, you really do— but when it ends with your legs spread over his thighs, hopelessly grinding down for the smallest fractions of friction, it starts to feel worse than not having him at all.

Your hands fisted the material of his dress–shirt, marking folds and creases into the otherwise ironed shirt. Nanami's hands are settled on your hips, patting an encouraging rhythm— other than that, you have him no where else. It's a punishment, he reminds you, he's not going do anything more than this, than what's necessary to put you back into your place. So you're left to fend for yourself, trying your best to hump against Nanami's thigh with no footing; it feels stupid, you're sure you look stupid. Your feet hang just a few millimetres from the floor, dangling in the air as your toes stretched out purposefully so you can stabilise your lower half enough to push your hips forward.

Frustrated tears have been blurring your vision for however long this has gone on, Nanami leans back into the support of the chair, making a point of keeping away from you as his hands tap. You can't help but grumble, frustrated and whiny, at his constant reminder to keep your pace even. "If it's not to apologise for the way you behaved," Nanami speaks after what seems like hours of silent watching, "then I don't want to hear anythin'."

he makes you hump against his thigh as a punishment, knowing that no matter how long you spend trying to find the right position to purposefully push your clit down, you'll never get satisfied enough to cum. he doesn’t touch you, he doesn't talk to you— it's like he isn't there at all, reminiscent of all the lone nights when you have to settle for your fingers to press against an ache between your thighs that nanami had worked into you. his patience is the most annoying part of it— how his eyes brush over your features without a care for your struggles. depending on how stubborn you feel that night, nanami will either interfere with subtle touches to break down your walls or he'll soften at the sound of your apology between sobs.

Exhaustion taunts your movement, unfortunately, Nanami knew that you weren't ready to give in; his eyes trail over the clock and finds himself surprised by how long you'd been at this. Memories of your actions trickle back into his mind, wondering why you felt so especially wronged to sulk this long— maybe he'd been in the wrong this time. He wonders the specifics for a bit before coming to the conclusion that you were just being particularly stubborn about this and he'd hadn't been wrong to issue a correction for your behaviour. However, it didn't seem to be doing its job, neither helping you nor him.

Decidedly, he reaches an hand out to push your hair behind your ear. You curl into the touch almost immediately and he has to fight the satisfaction that corrupts inside him when you chase after him. Sweat lines your forehead, features permanently scrunched up, your mouth parted open as you panted. Full of unbridled tears, your eyes flickered to Nanami and you finally squeeze out a please, whisper to him that you're sorry. It's all that Nanami's wanted to hear so he leans in, a hand pushed upwards under the hem of your shirt and the other grabs your leg, hooking it over his other thigh so you could slide into his lap comfortably. You settled right over his bulge, a satisfied sigh shivering through your spine as Nanami trails his hand up; he pushes his fingers through your hair at the base of your hair and holds it out of the way when he nods his head down to press kisses at your neck. Sorry's fall out of your mouth at a hurried pace when you finally get to grind against his bulge, finally able to focus some kind of attention to your clit.

you're always tired by the time nanami decides that you've been good enough for your punishment to end or you give in and apologise; your legs ache from all the strenuous effort, no matter how long you'd been at it. since you've already shown regret for your actions, there's no need to nanami to shy away from taking over. he allows you to lie weightless underneath him, only twenty–one grams left of your soul boneless and floating as nanami finally gives you gentle reprieve. fucking you slow as he hums, praising how good you've been, telling you you'll always be his doll— no matter how you act out.

it's mere fun for shōko. something about it is electric, evokes some disturbing sense of feeling through nerves that she's left in slumber for years; thrumming inside of her, pandora's box bursts open inside of her bones, insects buzzing alive and rattling through narrow calcium passageways in search of an exit. she erupts with life when you're so desperately chasing after your own high, neglecting her touches, on her thigh. your whines and mewls feeding the torturous ache inside her to always have you here, ready–made for her. it's strange for shōko to like this as much as you do— maybe even more, when she gains no physical gratification from it, despite that, she's obsessed.

High–pitched moans have been altering the space of Shōko's bedroom for a while, the furniture all oozing down into the walls and floor as her brain focuses both hemispheres on you; they both fight to see which side can get more of you. Her left hand squeezes the fat of your hips, switching between mean grips and soothing cirles; her right hand is messing with the clasps of your bra, trying to get it off so she can see your tits bounces everytime you jostle forwards. She's all over you and encourages you to do the same with her.

Her face pushed right into the burrow of your neck, desperately kissing and licking over your skin, like she could wear it away enough with her tongue alone to have an entrance to push herself into your body to make home. Spurned on by the fact that you're grinding against her so desperately and still it's not enough, she's untamed. Her kisses are broken into intervals where she stops biting and sucking to murmur praises into your skin, making herself known to your intimate body.

there's little logic as to why exactly shōko enjoys the practice so much. she thinks it's the view, honestly. your flushed face— too fucked up to worry about appearances, your hair sticking to your forehead like strokes of paint, how you scramble your hands over her in search of some texture and stability, the tears and the sobs that follow. she watches it all with a patience and steadiness that could only belong to someone with her kind of profession and it only spurns you on more, knowing that there was some kind of obscene part of shōko that loved this. even though she shushes you so gently, wipes your eyes, and gives you soft kisses over the parts of your cheeks where makeup has loosened from sweat and tears— she makes you keep going until your body gives out.

She hums, pleasant and supportive next to your ear when her kisses lead her back up to your face. Your nails tightened into her shoulders, the tension of a cable holding an elevator wound up your body, a burn in your thighs like you'd been awake with the weight of the world on your shoulders for a millennia and more. You've been asking for something for a while— you're not sure what exactly but Shōko knows. She always does when you're whimpering please's in her ears. Your head lay on her shoulder, pants falling from your lips and a dazed look on your face as your hips shift and stutter, prompted by her encouraging hands. "Please, Shō," you beg again and again, "I— I need," and you don't finish cause she swats at your thigh.

"Jus' a lil' more, okay pretty?" Strangely, she sounds just fucked up as you. "A little more, then I'll take care of everything." Shōko's never disappointed you, she's not cruel enough to be made for that, so you trust her and you keep going. When your breathing slows, breaths more purposeful and you're sniffling, obvious tears rolling down your face, she waits for the weight of your hips to shift entirely into her palms— a burden on her shoulders— and then she'll take over. "You did so good," she hums as she moves you to lay down on the bed. "So, so good, 'm gonna take care of you now, 'kay?" You nod and her tongue swipes over the tears that fall from your eyes over to your ear before kissing the skin.

when she's satisfied with how worn out you already are, she takes over. shōko thinks this is also why she enjoys having you tire yourself out on her thighs first; you're so docile, so quiet, so receptive to everything she does now. every slow, tantalising stroke against unassuming expanses of skin makes you twitch and squirm; you're too tired to even call her name so she listens to your squeals and whines instead, using them as guides for her next movements. she knows that you'll hate her in the morning for managing to talk you into this, but right now, she doesn't hear a bratty peep out of you and it's how she likes it. she already deals with too much stress in her life— the last thing she needs is for you to add onto that and even though you'll pout at her and turn away from her warmth in the morning, she knows you like your mind reduced to liquid, you don't like the weight of your own thinking either.

[bestangelofall]

I've been thinking about your JayTim hate sex post more

First idea is that after Tim first really and truly tries to kill him, Jason decides he Needs to Encourage that behavior and kidnaps Tim and chains him to his radiator but leaves something to cut the ropes Tim is bound with near Tim

Tim assumes this is some kind of fucked up reverse psychology test to see if he'll leave. "Jason must be testing the limits of my obsession with him perfectly normal crime fighting focus on him! If I leave, he'll finally realize I truly and genuinely don't care about him" (lies, Jason occupies his every waking thought) "but he'll get away with whatever other fucked up schemes he's got going on, because his stupid, idiotic plans always have at least three layers to them and no. No! I will NOT allow him to win, I will beat him, and I will beat him bloody, and I will not leave! And my not leaving will mean nothing, because Jason might be delusional about us being bonded but I'm NOT!" (More lies)

Second idea is that Tim and Jason get coincidentally recruited to the same team many many years later and people see them Bringing Out the Worst in Each Other. Someone tells them during argument 10,000 to get a room and fuck it out already!

They both break from the argument to laugh and inform them that this is them after fucking it out!!

"Believe me, we used to be so much worse about each other!"

Tim then relates getting chained to Jason's radiator and choosing to stay for a whole week just so he could keep trying to beat the shit out of Jason every time he came to feed him as a funny anecdote and is so so so mad about it all over again when Jason reveals "That reverse psychology test IS very much a me thing to do, and maybe if it was earlier in our relationship that would have been what it was about, but no. I had no insecurities about you leaving me by then; I knew we were well passed that. I just wanted you to break free and stab me in my sleep <3"

Third idea is Bernard outsider POV

He starts dating Tim, his high school sweetheart, not knowing he's Robin (or Red Robin? Unsure on timeline). They go through some ups and downs as he worries that Tim is cheating on him when he keeps disappearing and stands him up on a date

That ends in the secret identity reveal and all is well and Bernard is okay with Tim needing tons of time to devote to crime fighting as long as Tim shares as much as he can of his stories from that side of his life <3

Then gradually Bernard starts to hear more and more about this Jason guy, this Red Hood, and it quickly becomes clear that-

"He's your Nemesis, like probably even your Arch Nemesis."

Tim gives him an odd look, unreadable outside of being some kind of discomfort. "Uh, I mean- I dunno. We've never called it that...? We being vigilantes in general. We don't really- it'd be weird to call our enemies that ourselves, you know?"

"Heh, yeah guess it would be!"

"Besides, I wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he really took up that much of my attention."

Bernard laughs it off, but the conversation doesn't sit right. He tries to tell himself he's just got fanfiction writer, homestuck reader brain rot - Tim does so clearly obviously truly hate the man, is the thing, no love to lose and no love lost - but it's very hard to ignore how much that felt like "we haven't called it dating yet".

Especially not when, during a heated, pacing-the-room, wild gesticulation rant, Tim accidentally lets slip that he could have escaped one of Jason's plots easily, but chose to stay. (Maybe the first concept? Idk). Tim quickly amends, clarifying why else he couldn't come back, and Bernard does his best to have faith but... The idea of Tim hunting the Red Hood down, leaving Bernard waiting and worrying for days - it sticks in his head, rattling around his brain like a ball bearing in a rock tumbler.

The final straw breaks in through their house boat window one night.

The Red Hood is carrying Tim over his shoulder, he's injured, bleeding, and only 3/4ths conscious.

Bernard reaches for him only to get his hands slapped away.

"His suit is trapped." Jason turns to Tim and tells him. "And I am feeling just merciful enough not to get your boytoy zapped." He gets hit weakly for that then turns back to Bernard. "Get your suture kit."

Once he's done that he can only watch as this man, this stranger, who Tim is supposed to hate more than anything, gets to strip him and manhandle him and hold him and heal him gently and Tim's grumpy and snippy - but he doesn't flinch the way he does when Bernard touches him even when the needle goes in.

He watches and realizes that behind all the hate is intimacy on a level he and Tim have never come close to. They know every inch of each other, every little secret and every little tick and Tim is constantly burning up about it.

Worst of all? Bernard can tell Tim is holding back. He's not letting him see the full scope of their dynamic. He's clearly ashamed of how he acts towards Jason and doesn't want Bernard to see it.

The day the bandages come off, Bernard breaks up with him, saying that it turns out Tim was cheating on him after all.

Tim is sad about the breakup, but in truth, most of his emotions are still about Jason. It drives him INSANE that Jason managed to ruin his life AGAIN and worst of all? Jason wasn't even trying. He could tell the moment he accused him of sabotaging his relationship that Jason genuinely had nothing to do with it. That is what makes the breakup devastating for him.

Jason spends the rest of the week on cloud nine and the rest of forever preening about it. Tim cheated on his perfect little lovey dovey boyfriend for him!! Of his own free will! - and Tim even cheated with his heart rather than his dick and that just makes it all the better!

This one n e v e r gets related as a fun anecdote (nor as blackmail) on pain of Tim cursing Jason with the worst possible kinds of immortality he can find. Jason definitely still uses it to yank Tim's chain in private though

I think it'd work best if after this is when they start fucking and Tim ends up actually trying to kill him for the first time and then Jason chains him to his radiator - but also the radiator thing goes well before then so idk 🤔

Either way, hope you enjoyed my rambling thoughts about this :3

-redhoodinternaldialectical

omg? I am simply fascinated by this whole thing, especially the part about Jason saying he wanted Tim to escape and stab him in his sleep <3 it's foreplay for them (but also the main act? Sort of?) and them playing 5d chess with each other instead of simply

Also, Jason feeling elated that Tim cheated on Bernard with his heart rather than his Dick ☺️ he's a romantic!!! (Also I'm feeling a bit sad for Bernard now. Imagine losing your boyfriend to his not-really-arch-nemesis? #feelsbad).

Thank you so much for this ask, I love these scenarios a lot!

[copperbadge]

Sam, how on earth did you get permabanned from tinder and okcupid? That seems like such a random thing!

I'm still not entirely sure; I have a theory, and Tinder gave me an indication, but by policy they don't tell people why they've been banned. Which I can understand, if someone reported you for bad behavior they don't want you to know or suspect who.

For me it was very weird. I'd had accounts with both before but had deleted them so I needed to reregister. When I registered for Tinder they kept making me verify I was real in different ways, like some weird escalating scale of identity. At last they had me take a real specific picture, and then I got an email saying I could not prove I was real to their satisfaction, and that I was permabanned. I never even interacted with anyone on the app.

But there are plenty of apps, so I went to okcupid a few days later and while they didn't SAY Tinder tattled to them, they immediately denied and permabanned me when I put in my phone number. I can only suppose they talked. They're both owned by the same company, so it tracks.

Most dating apps are owned by one or two companies, they're just formulated differently for different tastes/wants. What's funny is that I'm on at least one other app owned by Match Group and that one, Hinge, is totally fine with me. So idk.

The post office also didn't believe my address was real for the first few years I tried to register for their postal Letters to Santa giving program. I still can't get delivery meals that don't go badly awry. It's enough to give a guy a complex, but honestly I never felt good or comfortable on those two apps anyway so it might be for my own good. Having been on different ones now, I genuinely think OKCupid is one of the more toxic apps in this sphere, purely because it markets itself so specifically to people looking for authenticity but doesn't really foster it. A lot of other apps at least don't pretend they aren't meat markets.

I've had to approach dating apps in general as hostile places, simply because the level of harm they inflict for someone with RSD is so high. I don't blame the other users, but the apps themselves are structured so that you can, for example, see all the people who didn't think you were date material, but have to pay to see people who thought you were. Being radically honest about who I am and what I want has been helpful because I expect a much higher rejection rate from that, so I'm braced for it, but it's still not fun. On the other hand, this is the first try where I've made meaningful connections that have resulted in real dates. Breakfast Date, who I met on Hinge, has been really hot and fun, and Museum Date, who I met on eHarmony, is an ongoing exercise in hilarity (sexy hilarity) so for the first time it's worth it. And I don't think that would have been the case on OKCupid.

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirits - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.7)

Summary: reactions from team avatar when they find out your ozais assassin

warning: mentions of scars, not very happy gaang, mean katara!, angst

masterlist: here!

most previous part: here! (all other parts can be found in my masterlist!)

authors note! hello!! idk if anyone will be reading this but if you are welcome!! i haven't posted to this series in YEARS so please forgive me as I'm very rusty at writing but please enjoy!

Unified screams erupted upon Appa. “YOU’RE WHAT!”

“Aang what have you done! You literally let a murderer on Appa! She’s going to kill all of us! Katara was right, and I can’t believe I ignored her.”

“I KNEW IT! Quickly Aang, land Appa and let’s get her off!”

Unable to take it anymore, Toph lost her cool. “Can you knuckle heads shut up! I highly doubt that she will kill us, why the hell would she listen to you guys fighting all the time when she could end her misery by taking you out.”

Reality hitting Sokka and Katara, they finally piped down, allowing Toph to continue.

“Look, what you said is highly questionable. I’m not saying that I trust you, but you’re going to have to give us more information than that or else I’ll throw you off myself. Got it?”

You sighed. At least someone in the group had more sense. “Yeah, of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well for starters a name would be great. Oh and maybe, I don’t know, how and why you’re the Fire Lords Assassin?!”

You almost wanted to pull Katara’s braid for the irritating look of satisfaction on her face. “Right okay… well my name is y/n. uhhh and I was forced to become his assassin when he caught me after I broke into the palace three years ago.”

“That’s it?! Nuh uh lady. I know he’s the Fire Lord and had done some awful things but why would he do that to a child?! You’re either lying or somethings still missing.”

There was a lot to weigh up. To suddenly reveal everything about you would be too much and would get you thrown off Appa anyway. Yet to reveal nothing wouldn’t let you gain enough trust to even last a day. Leaving you to share the one thing you knew so little about yourself that you didn’t care if they knew and hopefully enough of a miserable, pitying tale that they’d let you off the hook for the time being.

“My parents aren’t in my life, they never were. I don’t know who they were or why they did it. All I had was my trainer, Zemin. In his time, he was the most notorious Assassin in the entire Fire Nation and when he retired, he never took on any students to carry on his legacy - if you could even call it that. Every other trainer was ecstatic because this meant that their students would earn the most bounties. Until there was me. I don’t know why he took me in… he just said that he found me as in infant and regretfully took me from an islands rocky shore maybe to sell me off somewhere. I suppose he realised he could make even more money from me if he trained me until I could pay off debt for him raising me. I did the one thing assassins could do, kill. All the money I ever earned from each bounty went straight to him. Luckily enough, I learned quickly, and I got to my final payment when I was 13, then he would have set me free.”

Horrified, Aang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was nothing like this in the Air Temples growing up. “Luckily enough?! How in any universe is that lucky!”

“Most assassins in the Fire Nation, and others, are stuck paying off their guardians or trainers well into their adulthood. Because of… certain tactics and advantages, I became quite popular if you could put it that way and most of the people, I had to take care of were…” Halting, you knew that if you verbally said some lives are worth more than others, Aang would probably go into cardiac arrest.

“Well, some had more people wanting them gone so the bounty was higher.”

“How does this have anything to do with you working for the fire lord! I don’t see why Zemin would let you go if you were doing so much for him.”

Your strength was fading. You hated yourself for how much you scretly enjoyed having people around that weren’t as idealistic as those in the Fire Nation.  “He didn’t. I got an anonymous mission to take out a high general in the palace. So high, that it was going to be enough for me to finish my debt.” After not being met with screams you felt reassured to continue…. they seem to be taking this well…

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “On my way out, I got caught in the middle of an Agni Kai. The fire lord wasn’t too pleased I killed one of his generals or interfered with punishing his son. Yet somehow in his psychopathic mind he saw it as an opportunity to pledge my allegiance to him.”

The silence amongst the group was short lived.

“YOU MEAN ZUKO?”

“YOU KILLED SOMEONE.”

“AND YOU ACCEPTED?”

You scrunched your face. Maybe this was a bad idea to tell them. But it was too late to go back. “Yes, it was Prince Zuko in the Agni Kai, that’s how he got his scar. Yes, Aang I did kill the general, but to be fair I haven’t killed anyone since then… And Katara if you were being tortured every day for 8 months, I’m sure you would wear down too.”

The waterbender was unsatisfied with your answer. “Unbelievable! Of course, you did! Everyone has a choice in this world, and you chose the fire lord. You’re nothing but a coward.”

“My life was on the line! You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh please, y/n. I do. I know everything! Sure, you were raised to assassinate others, but you can’t expect me to believe you didn’t know what you were doing when you were standing before Ozai. I would have stayed in a life of suffering than go with him.” Shaking her head, she pierces you with a disgusted look, “You’re no better than Ozai. No better than Azula.”

As Appa continued to glide through the ever-ending expanse of the sky, it seemed nothing could break the suffocating tension that encompassed everyone upon his saddle.

Toph was the only one to speak up. “Didn’t you hear her Katara? She hasn’t killed anyone since then! She’s surviving. If you ask me… she’s braver than any of us, you never know what could have happened to her if she got caught not actually killing her targets!”

Irritated Katara only grumbled, turning away while leaving the two boys to think about how they felt about you. Despite giving them answers, they still had so many questions.

It was undeniably clear that Katara has made her mind up about you, and you were sure everyone else was the same despite the earth benders attempts at comforting you. Hence, as you sat there across from the four of them, you were the first to break eye contact, turning your head to the side as you searched for something to focus on out there in the sky. Bird, a cloud, anything. You didn’t have the heart, the courage, to argue against what she said.

Unknown to you, Aang shuffled closer to you scared that his angry friend might hear him going towards you. His words only just loud enough to hear above the wind he whispered to you… “Its okay y/n. I don’t really understand what you’ve done or what you’ve been through but when youre ready.. you can tell us.

That was the first time your heart ignited a comforting warmth.

As Appas soft paws skilfully landing on the hard earth, you felt your heart drop inside you. What do I do now? Mind racing through all the possibilities, Toph seemed to have decided what to do before you could even stand.

“Hey! Come with me.”

Jumping off Appas saddle you landed on your feet with such a skilled silence, Toph had to sense your heartbeat to even realise you were next to her. Setting off towards where she’d set up her sleeping area, it was best you stuck closely behind.

“Don’t think about what Katara said, she doesn’t get it.”

“How so?”

Stalling in her tracks, she turned her unseeing gaze towards you. “She doesn’t know what its like to be born into a life that you don’t want. And she definitely doesn’t know how hard it can be trying to escape it.”

Unsure with how to reply, humming in understanding was the best you could come up with.

“Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I know you most certainly don’t need me, but I’ve got your back.”

The next day had gone by agonizingly slow. With Toph trying to teach Aang earth bending you were left to your own devices since Katara decided to tag along. Although you found yourself tailing Sokka as he went his own way looking for food unaware of your silent giggles seeing him get stuck in the ground.

“...big things eat smaller things. Nothing personal. But this time, it didn’t work out that way…I admit it, you’re cute…”

You decide to finally reveal yourself, tired of your lack of entertainment. “What are you doing down there Sokka?”

Letting out a girl like squeal, he’s horrified at getting caught in this position. “Nothing!”

“You look like you could use some help.”

“I don’t want help from you!” You dismiss it. Surely he has no other choice but to make himself acquainted with you.

“Yeah, right. It’s funny, you’re probably the third person that has ever said that to me. The second in about the span of 48 hours.” you cant help but divert your attention towards the cute animal annoying him. “Aweee look at this cutie!”

“Get away from it!”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to hurt it!”

“Please, I actually quite like animals. They’re a lot better than humans anyway.”

“I- well… fine! Just go away?”

You scoff, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t like you!”

“Hmm… is that so.”

“Yes, of course it is!”

You’re done feeling sorry for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t like me, or do you feel that way because of your sister?”

“I- well… argh! Fine! I don’t know.”

“Well… why don’t you talk to me and work it out for yourself? If you still dislike me so much I’ll leave you be and get someone to come help.”

A  silence fills the distance between the two of you.

He sighs, caving in, “So.. this Zemin guy. Did he REALLY not give you a choice?”

Looking up, you stare at the clear sky. “I learnt early on in my training that I didn’t have a choice or options in life other than what he wanted. Any exercise I rushed through, half assed, or tried to skip through when he wasn’t looking came with consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“The kind that keeps all of my clothing and bindings on so I don’t constantly get pitiful looks or too many questions.”

He scoffs, “prove it”

Staring at all your layers you sigh, “don’t say I never warned you.”

Peeling off all your layers one by one until your down to just your tank top and pants, you decide to take off your face mask last. Your eyes meeting Sokka’s, you notice him swallow thickly. But its you to break the ice first. “In all fairness, most of them are now from Ozai. The older they look… well I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.”

“b-but-“Fuck why did I have to make him uncomfortable.

Unable to take it any longer, you pull him out from the hole in the ground. “Its fine.”

You turn to walk away after helping him, but he grabs your scarred wrist, the feeling of the textured skin making him internally wince. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you expose yourself like that. Its horrible that you had to experience that… hell we look the same age!”

“Everyone is on different paths. Look, lets just forget about it..”

Sokka feels like he could bust into tears “No! you don’t understand. I’ve seen the effects of the fire nation… hell they took away my mum. I still remember it, sometimes I have weeks where I keep reliving it in my nightmares, only finding peace when im awake. Its like im being haunted. But- but you?! You have to face it whether you’re awake or asleep”.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can’t handle the intensity of his words. Theres nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. You hug him. You don’t remember the last time you held someone. It feels weird, almost wrong. But as he squeezes you back, tightening the embrace, you understand one thing. You have an understanding with the water tribe boy, despite how dark it may feel.

Hours pass by as you sit with sokka talking about useless topics until the other three join you once more. Feeling weariness in their gaze, you realise you forgot to put your layers back on. Now everyone can see your face and scars.

Only Aang has the courage to speak with you.

“Hey. Uhhh, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I’m sorry for not speaking much with you since yesterday. I didn’t mean to, it was just a lot to process personally! Growing up with the Air Nomads, I was taught that killing is wrong and that under no circumstance should that be the answer. If I’m completely honest with you, I still stand by those teachings and to have someone who has… killed… so close to me and the people I care the most about is… unsettling.”

There it was. You knew despite how much he was trying; you knew he wouldn’t be able to see past what you did. What you are.

“I understand. I don’t blame you, or anyone for reacting the way they are, and I know what it feels like to want to protect those who mean something to you.” You glance at Sokka, remembering how he understood.

“Just… please understand that I’ve realised what I did was wrong and while I can’t change everything that I have done, I’m trying to move away from that way of life. I don’t want to be a killer anymore. I’m trying my best to fix it.”

“I know…. Its just-“

“You don’t trust me.”

“What?! NO! I mean…. I don’t know. You clearly have good inside of you but it’s hard to look past.”

“I get it. I’ll head off then, the world needs you Aang and I won’t be the one to stand it your way.”

“No! stop! Please! I know I said it’s hard for me to do, but I clearly see you trying your best. I know you won’t hurt me. I just… I suppose I need to open my eyes more. See you for who you are now, what you’re doing now.”

But what if you can’t? What if I’m still that person, no matter how much I try to shove it away. This is what I have been made to become?

“Okay.”

Letting out a nervous quiet laugh, he glances back to everyone. “okay well… lets eat!”

Zuko stares at the sky in the heavy downpour. “You always through everything you could at me. Well, I can take it. And now I can give it back!”

Lightning cacks in the sky before his eyes.

“Come on!”

“Strike me! You never held back before!”

Met with only the sound of the world around him, he feels helpless. Lost. Alone.

Screaming out, Zuko falls to his knees as the rain and guilt encompasses all of his senses.

His voice scratchy from screaming, he can hardly croak out… “You never held back from her."

taglist: ​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @slythergirlimagines ​​​ @whiskeywinter89​​ @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins​ ​ ​ @calciumcow @ilovespideyyy @callums-keith @nnon-it-up @blackhood5sos @chewymoustachio @tiffy119 @reclusive-chicken-nugget @lozzybowe​ @scarletemeterio​​ @simpinforsukka​ ​ ​ @sokkassuki​ @spearbatty @kaylove12

[lightlycareless]

I was thinking about your last few asks that mentioned Maki and Mai(How Naoya isn’t that close with them and how they always get Y/N to get stuff for them). I was thinking what if there was a time where Y/N was like ‘I want to go to Disneyland’ or something and Naoya Ofc is like ‘Anything for my queen’ only to realize that Y/N was setting it up as trip for Mai and Maki to attend as well(How she convinced Junko to let them go Idk 💀 the only way I could see it happening is if it was like a bday present for them and Junko was feeling a little bad for them considering most of the clan wouldn’t even acknowledge the day for them). I can imagine Naoya going along with it since he already agreed to do this for Y/N but just kinda stewing in his feelings about how his date with Y/N turned into babysitting his cousins at a theme park. I can see him maybe loosening up a little seeing how happy Y/N is to do this for them(depending on when this takes place, maybe it makes Naoya think about how Y/N would be with their own children in the future, although Y/N and the twins I believe was mentioned to have a more older sister younger sisters vibe but let me dream for a moment lol).

This also kinda gives me the idea of what it would be like if Naoya and Y/N had to babysit a kid for like a day or so and gives them a glimpse of what having a child together would be like before they’ve had kids. Idk who that random kid would be tho lol. Maybe even HS au where Y/N and Naoya get paired to take care of one of those fake babies XD

Sorry I got off on a tangent, I’m obsessed and Naoya and Y/N so I think about a lot of situations they can get into. You don’t have to write any of they don’t strike your fancy Ofc but I still wanted to share. Sorry for rambling >.<

Hello!!

How y'all manage to hit the nail on the head with certain scenarios has me baffled, and so happy hahahaha I'm so in love with this idea; just anything Disney makes me all giddy inside, I really do love imagining scenarios where Y/N is going to the park with Naoya as a couple, or when they go with their kids and such... just those little things with their family 🥺 ajhgajghjas ugh, it warms my heart.

The taking care of a kid together reminds me of those typical school assignments where you have to take care of an egg???? Or maybe that was just me, but I'm sure you know what I mean XD so imma write something of the topic set on a hs au :)

For now, let's enjoy Naoya's plans being foiled when he takes you to Disney... but you decide to bring along Mai and Maki lol.

warnings: fluff. it says tokyo disneyland but it's based on my experience which is the california park :') i'm sorry. naoya get's all sensitive at the thought of you.

Happy reading!!

Naoya was all too aware of one of your biggest dreams, it’s been so for as long as he can remember, as well as the reason behind all his recent efforts: to take you to Disneyland on your birthday.

He wants to take you to all of them eventually, of course; in due time there will not be a park that you hadn’t enjoyed—however, before he takes it to the next level, he rightfully assumed Tokyo was a nice spot to start.

“Y/N, are you going to do anything for your birthday?” Naoya asks, as smoothly as he could—attempting to hide the excitement this whole ordeal brought him. It’s essentially a date!

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I’ll probably just go out to eat, why?”

“Clear up your schedule, we’re going to Disneyland.”

“Oh my God, are you being serious right now?!” you gasp, his heart skipping a bit at the way your eyes twinkled, it’s just the kind of admiration that makes his ego grow bigger—more so if it comes from you. “Naoya, that is—thank you so much!”

However, his satisfaction wouldn’t last long the moment you prompted the question of being allowed to bring someone else. At first, he thought it would be one of your pestering friends, which he was okay with to some degree, it was your birthday after all and there was nothing else that he wanted more than to make you happy…

But when he learned you planned to invite his cousins, all he could think was “really?”

Of all people… his annoying 8-year-old cousins.

“Are you excited to go to Disney for the first time in your lives?!” You tried to hype Mai and Maki along as Naoya dejectedly drove towards the destination, keeping himself entertained with a much different scenario in his mind. Anything to ignore his current predicament.

“Yes!” They cried back with a wide smile on their faces, as expected.

“What is Disneyland like?” Maki asks. “What is there??”

“It’s better if I don’t spoil you, just wait and see!”

Though there isn’t much spoiling left to be done, Naoya considers, given how his date with you is effectively overridden by their presence, demanding that your attention be solely placed on him—the only consideration he seems to be given is when being asked how many were in your party, and sitting arrangements once in the rides.

It made his efforts undeniably futile, and was very near to giving up entirely whatever he had planned for the day…

Until a certain sight proves him wrong.

Naoya couldn’t care less about his irritating cousins, and while not justified, they hadn’t been the easiest to get along with either —there’s not a moment they don’t take to mock him, surely at one point that ought to irritate anyone— however, to see you fret about their safety, their appearance as you thread back locks of their hair back in place, even wonder what they’d like to eat as while gently holding onto their hands as the two walked across the park…

Something about it makes his heart warm up; must be the comparison to your surroundings, how it made you blend in with the other families and make it seem as if they were your kids.

His children.

He becomes a bit more willing after that just to entertain that sweet thought a bit longer, obliging to buy all the things you wanted, even if they were to end on Mai and Maki’s hands at the end. In fact, Naoya’s energy was redirected in keeping you and his cousins rightfully satisfied, when he once scowled at the faintest semblance of a request from their part, he was now suggesting experiences the three might find enjoyable.

“If we go now, we might be able to find good spots.” Naoya says in reference to the upcoming parade. “Or I can go ahead while you look around or go on another ride.”

“Are you sure, Naoya? I wouldn’t like you to feel left out…” you murmur.

“It’s fine, prin— Y/N.” he coughs, the twins raise an eyebrow. “Go have fun.”

“Why are you being so nice out of the sudden, Naoya??” Maki, unable to hide her… confusion, points out, making Naoya fluster.

“Because it’s her birthday!” he frowns. “Which should be enough reason for the two of you to behave as well, instead of being the spoiled brats you usually are!”

“Naoya!” you gasp.

“…I mean—just—let’s just have fun.” Naoya spluttered, making you and the twin’s chuckle.

Which is how the rest of the evening proceeded, with samples of all the food both found appetizing, alongside purchases of things that were to undoubtedly preserve this moment for years to come, and of course, pictures, lots of them, with you, Mai and Maki, in every iconic landscape with those equally memorable Mickey ears that Naoya found quite adorable on you; because it represented your happiness.

A job well done on his part, just what he wanted for you on your special day.

And once everything was done, the girls tired and you satisfied, it was finally time to go back home. Naoya helped you carry the only one of the twins that was too exhausted to make the way back to the car, while you held the other by the hand—a lovely sight he didn’t know he wanted to partake in until now… imagining them instead as both little girls that looked just like you; daughters that would take after your loving demeanor.

Your enjoyment of sweets, of places like these that he’d turn into some kind of yearly family holiday just to see them happy. Already hearing their adorable pleas, demanding their papa take them to greet their favorite character—a princess perhaps, though they were the only princesses he could discern—or try out one of the many snacks.

“Now, now darlings; don’t overwhelm your papa.” You’d caution, gently taking the hand of your youngest before heading to him, offering him a bite of the churros you just bought for them, and him gladly taking it. “Is it good? Do you like it?”

“It’s… different.” He says. “I don’t mind the texture.”

 “I’m glad—oh! Wait.” You then proceed to wipe the leftovers in the corner of his mouth, a moment that leads the two to stare at each other for a few seconds, a smile parting both of their lips as they realize how blessed they were to be here, with your daughters. Together.

Happy.

In love.

…

When the time is right.

Only with you.

“Do you need anything else? Food, medicine? Are you feeling alright?”

“It’s ok, Naoya, just tired. You don’t need to do anything else… what you’ve done is more than enough.” You say, looking back at the twins to find them soundly asleep; they were knocked out the moment they arrived at your shared hotel room—certainly, today had been a long day for everyone. “It was fun.”

“I’m glad.” He responds, feeling the tiniest sting of disappointment, perhaps expecting you’d be willing to do something else with him before the night ends, a moment of privacy between the two…

But he soon learns that you weren’t far off from his desires, given how you carefully placed your hand over his chest and leaned upwards to place a kiss on his cheek, your gesture flaring Naoya’s cheeks immediately after, more so at the following.

“Maybe next time… it could just be the two of us.” You murmur. “I’d like it to be just the two of us.”

“I can—I can arrange that.” Naoya breathes, nodding.

“It’s a date, then.” You smile. “Goodnight, Naoya. See you tomorrow for breakfast.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He smirks, the nickname he’s been holding off to say finally making its way past his lips and making you blush; quickly turning around out of embarrassment, ready to head back to bed… before decidedly returning to him and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Now it’s his moment to turn bright red. “Y/N—”

“Just something to look forward to.” You murmur. “If…  it’s not too much.”

“No, it’s not. Actually, it’s… perfect.” As always.

Naoya could wait a bit thinking about a family.

For now, he just wants to love you.

It can be somewhat read like Naoya and Y/N aren't officially dating quite yet.............................................. or maybe you're just shy because Mai and Maki are there and they're like 1000000% little devils when it comes to teasing you about your BOYFRIEND with coincidentally is the dork of a cousin they have. Aw 🥹

Also, the whole thing did make me wonder how Junko would even allow this to happen.............. you must've sworn to do something crazy lol. "Fine, I'll marry Naoya if you let me take the girls to Disney." type of thing, when outside of the crazy canon and Naoya is a bit calmer, Junko always struck me as the type to look out for him one way or the other more than his own uncle!!! (she fears you'll hurt him lol)

Anyways, it was a treat writing this and now I want to write little Naomi going on an amusement park with her parents... which will happen but not on Disney, we all know she a puroland fan 😏

Thank you so much ❤️ Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!