#in like at Least an hour.(i am not fast at this yet)

[allmannerofmalady]

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get an easter egg or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍���‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

—> edit to say that I do notice and enjoy the codex entries, callbacks to Tevinter Nights, Masked Empire, the older games. I wish that care and detail was woven into the main story and overall end product and not just background fluff. I know others are satisfied with those additions, wish that were me. I saw a tweet saying that every callback to a previous game or storyline actually pissed them off even more lol, I relate.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

[bitchfitch]

I took a shuttle tatting class with my mother today, and it was a lot of fun! I'm still VERY early in the process of learning what the fuck I'm doing. But I thought y'all would enjoy This pattern, which is labeled in the booklet as being a heart

[kavehater]

Every time my mum throws yet another hissy fit although I can understand she’s being stupid and I let her yap to her hearts content cause she can never quit complaining, for some reason I’m so mildly bothered that the irritation makes me angry at every other thing.

For example : the fact that so and so hasn’t responded in 51 years, fifty more people haven’t even given so much as a single darn to ask why I haven’t replied yet or use those two brain cells of theirs currently fighting for third place to realise huh, maybe she’s going through a hard time ! Maybe you know like a decent fucking human being I could leave her a little note saying she can answer whenever she feels fit enough to do so but that I care for her, and the fact that I am irate by how care and compassion is offered on a silver platter to so many yet for me I have to beg and do the most absurd and pathetic displays to achieve even the slightest speck of kindness, and if I DONT do all of that in the one in a trillion possibility of me receiving kindness for free it makes me so disgusted and afraid because why the fuck would you do that, in fact why the fuck would anyone even do that even if I gave them my whole heart and soul anyways. All I am is less than dirt by way of reason given how I have been treated, and although I’m unsure as to why I am and that I can never fully understand the reason for why I’m not worth a single thing, and why I am worthless, i understand that that’s how the world works and I ought to adapt to my role and take it because nobody will stop for me

[jellyfishsthings]

The five times you left Spencer speechless (or how I like to call it, in quiet awe)

Warnings: reader wears glasses but no biggie, reader can fight and use a gun because why not, bau!reader, smitten Spence, nothing happens just feelz, Spence's drug addiction... I think that it

1. The first meeting

It had been a long week. People were crowding the small space of the bullpen. It had been the first case after Gideon's return, and Spencer had been buzzing with excitement to work with his mentor again. The case hadn't been particularly easy, and almost one agent named Elle Greenaway had been lightly injured, who would from now on work with them. His eyes were burning, and he gave into the temptation to wear his glasses as he looked into the nearly filled report in front of him, containing at least seventeen pages worth of information. Madame Strauss claimed that his reports were unnecessarily detailed, how that was a problem he couldn't tell. The hours seemed to blur together as he continued writing his report, losing many minutes trying to form his handwriting into something more presentable.

That was the moment. The time he first laid eyes on her. He had read many romance novels, which he wasn't going to admit, that the moment someone met the one, time seemed to slow to near non-existent and his reality at the moment seemed like something coming out of a book.

She was wearing a chunky white pullover with huge sleeves that strangely represented bells and a light brown plaited skirt that reached just at the middle of her thighs. Long legs that seemed to be going on for miles ended at a pair of black Mary Jane's. And sure, her appearance was incredible, but that was not what made him make a double take. He was sure he was hallucinating as he saw the most beautiful face he had seen in his life, looking as if it was something that came out of a Renaissance painting. Her hair was in a braid resting on her shoulder, and wire-framed glasses sat on her nose, making her eyes appear slightly bigger. A tattered pair of wired headphones framed her face, and for a second, Spencer forgot how to breathe, the most cognitive function, the one he had been able to do since he first entered this world. His ears were buzzing, and his brain was running in endless circles.

A hand was moving in front of him, and he stared at the angel that was standing in front of him. Her mouth was moving, probably talking to him, and he willed himself to pay attention.

“S-Sorry.”

“It's alright.” The angel answered him; maybe he had finally overdone it with the sugared coffee he was drinking as if it were his primary source of hydration. “ I am looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

“R-Right. Umm…”

“Good, you are here. Come with me.” Hotch's voice echoed in the empty room, and Spencer's cheeks flamed an angry red as the girl turned and kindly waved at him as she quickly climbed the stairs and entered the conference room. Spencer had half a mind not to turn his chair and stare at her. With an unnecessary loud cough, he turned back at his report and thanked his luck for Morgan's absence because if he had witnessed this, he was going to hear the end of this anytime

2. The lesson

A month had passed since he first saw her. And yet, he could recall her vividly, the deep-set eyes, the rosy lips. His birthday had been a blur as he celebrated them in the office and invited JJ in a lame attempt to ask her out which just resulted in a long evening where JJ and Penelope talked endlessly and he couldn't comprehend the sport he was supposedly watching.

He was waiting in Hotch's office as a stand-in. He was teaching a young agent to join the unit and he was thrilled when he heard that the student was just a few months shy of his own age. At the moment, he was trying to move a huge board to the office when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around way too fast and came face to face with the angel he saw, the one he thought he willed into existence.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, no. I got it. Are you Hotch's student?” He asked and immediately regretted it. Of course, she was his student. Why did he have to lose half of his IQ around her? He gave one last hard shove to the board end and then aligned it with the desk. “So um… Hotch asked me to be your tutor for today if that is alright with you. Um… What material are you studying?”

“Mostly psychology. Which I am not very good at, by the way.” She retrieved a huge book from her bag and a small pencil case that was filled with just a pen and three markers, red, yellow, and green. Just as she opened the book, he could see that its majority was colored and that it had notes in the margins. His heart thudded louder in his chest.

“What do all those colors mean?” He asked curiously as he approached her.

“Well green means that I understand it; yellow means that I am working on it and red … I just have no clue. It's just mostly yellow at the moment, though the notes help.”

“What's red?” She looked at him in a strange way, and too late did he realize that she was studying him, his question had been earnest and probably too forward, and he rushed to explain himself. “ I just - I asked because I have a PhD in the subject.” He could see her eyebrows lifting before they settled in a scowl and whacked his brain to understand what he said wrong.

“You are Doctor Reid, right?” She asked quietly, and he stupidly nodded as an answer to her question. “Well there is … I don't understand some differences between some categories of killers; they have much in common, so why are they in a separate category?”

“The answer is actually way simpler I'd you think of it in a Venn diagram.” He rushed to the board, and drew a few circles, and he started writing on it as he explained its category separately. He talked for what seemed like hours, and he embarrassingly looked at his watch. He must have been talking for over an hour, and he turned to look at the girl only to find her writing on her book, still in the margins looking at him expectantly. The way she was staring at him almost had him stammering once again, and he felt his knees weaken for a strange reason. So he carried on.

When he was done, he turned to look at her; she was still writing something before she whispered. “You need to tuck your chest in when you are firing a gun.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Aaron said that he was having trouble with one of his agents' firearm training, and it must be you. You have a long torso, so your weight center is different from the diagrams in the training books you must have read. That's why you keep missing.” And just like that, she was gone again wishing him good night and a nice weekend.

His head was spinning as he walked towards the training room, and he wore his earmuffs and protective glasses. Tuck your chest in. And so he did before aiming and pressing the trigger three times. His shots were the best, but he hadn't missed. Pride swarmed his chest; he was going to do it.

The next day, he failed his exam. He had lost his gun.

3. The first case

Small-town cases were always the most thrilling in his humble opinion. And any time somehow a cult or demons were involved, he worked ten times harder to prove them wrong. Only this time, their team had a new member. Gideon did seem to take a liking to her, in contrast with Spencer, who was incredibly warm to her the moment she entered the room. Maybe it was because he had met her before, or maybe it was because whenever she was around him he felt like a firework ready to explode. Somehow, his conversation with Morgan had turned to the explanation of attraction in the neurotic sector.

“Chemicals, such as dopamine, may cause one to be giddy, euphoric, and even to experience suppressed hunger and sleep cues. You may recall a time when someone made your heart thud erratically in your chest, heat rise in your body making you blush, and the sensation of being tongue-tied or not able to form coherent thoughts. These are the characteristics of attraction.”

“Is that what you feel around her then? Because you don't act like yourself around her. I mean, come on, you are a germaphobe, and you were the first to shake her hand.”

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he did shake her hand. She surprised him too quickly to think beyond taking her hand, letting it happen. Their formal meeting, the one where they acted as if they hadn't spent an evening together in this same room. Hotch gave him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite, and he was definitely on to him. In the duration of the case, he tried to keep his distance, which didn't go that well when he found himself staring at the barrel of a gun that was aimed at him. Everything went by too quickly as she dove toward the UnSub, without a second thought tackling him to the ground and disarming him in a few short seconds. He wanted to be impressed, yet he had seen her in the training room with Morgan as they had hand-to-hand combat. She moved with agility, and her every move seemed calculated and strategic. He had felt his heart stutter in his chest as she helped him stand and checked him for injuries.

He was lovestruck as Penelope teased him. His silly crush on JJ had been entirely forgotten.

4. The Lila Archer incident

He was an idiot. It was the first time he would characterize himself in such a way. And hopefully the last.

When you guard a beautiful actress, Spencer, don't jump in the pool with her.

Love,

Spencer

He could identify the disappointment in his colleagues' faces from the very first second, yet the one that pierced him the most was hers. She barely spoke during the discussions about the possible type of the UnSub, no matter how much Elle or Hotch urged her on. She had been stuck with him for pretty much all of the cases and he had to admit that she was a brilliant young woman. The others interpreted her quietness as an inability to profile but her insights were what had helped him make some major breakthroughs on the last cases. When they congratulated him for that he simply smiled stating that he didn't work alone yet the others probably thought that he was just trying to cover his partner and not share mutual credit for their work. It unnerved him how she seemed incredibly distant and stoic always five paces away from the rest of the team.

Yet this time she seemed furious, it was the deathly kind of quiet, the one that sent a chill to his bones and left all the apologies that were spewing up in his brain die on his tongue.

Frustration was welling up on him and he tried to muster up the courage to talk to her, only to find her crying in Morgan's arms. He couldn't understand for the life of him what she was saying and a selfish, terrible part of him hoped that, maybe, she had been crying for him.

5. The drug addiction

Tobias Hankel was going to be a name that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sometimes deep into the night he was still at that cabin fighting for his life, the one time his intelligence wasn't enough. What drew him to steal those few bottles of Dilaud from his pocket, why he used them, why he formed his addiction. He didn't want to be a drug addict but it was his new reality. He desperately tried to stop it, tried to hide it and always felt ashamed when he relapsed to that horrible habit. He would sit in his bathroom sweating, crying and begging a higher force, a higher being to end his torment, despite never being a religious man, only for his phone to ring demanding his presence because of a new case and for him to fall back to his old routine.

It was a tough journey and he wanted to talk with his friends about that, he needed their help, yet they ignored his problem as if it didn't exist, even though the signs were clear. He was always lashing out, having terrible mood swings and when they tried to confort him about it he lashed out. He had met an old friend of his and he had been the only one he had been brutally honest about his … condition. Gideon knew, his mentor knew, he had the confirmation, yet he turned a blind eye to the situation. Everyone did, except from her.

Everyday she would bring him his extra sweet coffee filled to the brim with stevia and not sugar, because sugar was just as addictive. When he craved, he played with his fingers, tried to distract himself but to no avail, a long strip of hard licorice sweets would appear in front of his face, after research be learned that the flavourful of licorice was extremely distinctive and strong and its hard texture led a person to chew endlessly at just one piece. It was the best food to consume to distract yourself. Every night after a case she would show up at his place with Greek takeout, which was apparently the best cousine, and demand longtime marathons of a show or series of movies, which wasn't something unusual for the two of them. She visited him because she knew that he would never use in her vicinity. He had never known true love until that moment and he recalled a quote by Jane Austin.

To be loved is to be known.

words: 3.007

[fireinmoonshot]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Twisters) Summary: You're a new addition to the Storm Par team and Tyler finds himself fascinated with you from the very beginning.

It’s been a long and stressful day, so you assume that the group of tornado wranglers hanging about the large red truck by the stairs are feeling the same way as you – exhausted – and will let you head upstairs to get some much needed rest.

You are, however, incredibly wrong. 

“Hey, you’re the one with the Storm Par team, aren’t you?”

You force yourself to a stop on the first landing and turn to the group, all of their eyes staring up at you, and nod. “And you are the ones that make videos on Youtube.”

Boone, one of the only ones who’s names you’d gotten earlier today, laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I’m taking it as a win since you know who we are, as well as the other million people who subscribe to us.”

It’s hard not to smile at least a little at his cockiness. If you had a million subscribers on Youtube, you’d probably also have let it go to your head a little. 

You try and excuse yourself from the conversation then, assuming it’s over, and take a step towards the stairs, but yet again – you’re wrong. This time, it’s the tall, gorgeous blond man that speaks. Tyler Owens.

“I don’t think she’s subscribed to us, Boone.”

You can’t help it. You bite. “What makes you say that, Owens?”

He grins up at you from his spot on the back of the truck. “Am I wrong?” 

“That’s not an answer.”

The others in the group laugh and whoop, obviously enjoying the back and forward between the two of you. You assume that it’s rare for Tyler Owens to get that from anyone, let alone a fellow storm chaser that he’s never met before in his life. 

Tyler looks at you for a few moments without saying anything and you take that as your cue to leave, stifling a yawn as you turn away and head up the staircase. You can hear the others chattering back at the truck as you reach the top of the staircase and move to find your room, desperate for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. 

You’re so stuck in your own thoughts that you don’t hear someone bounding up the stairs behind you. 

“Hey, Storm Par,” Tyler Owens’ voice surprises you.

You look up from the key in your hand, having been checking your room number, and meet his eyes. “Were you that desperate for an answer on whether I’m subscribed to your Youtube channel that you had to follow me up here?”

Tyler chuckles to himself. “No, surprisingly not. Just figured I’d come and ask you how you’re doing and didn’t think you’d want an audience for that question.”

You’re a little surprised by his kind nature. Judging by what you’d seen of him so far, he was more of an act first, think later kind of person. And maybe he still was since he’d run after you so fast. 

“How I’m doing? I met you twelve hours ago.”

He flashes a grin. “I can’t ask someone I met twelve hours ago how they are?”

“Well…” You hesitate, a little lost for words. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t done this storm chasing thing in a couple of years and it’s going to take a bit of getting used to, especially working with a team like Storm Par.”

You don’t owe Tyler an explanation about everything, not about why you haven’t done it in years, nor why you’re a bit apprehensive about the Storm Par team. But you figure, since he’d been so kind to follow you up here to check in on you, a small explanation is the least you can offer him in return for his kindness.

Tyler nods. “Listen, I know my team can be a little much sometimes – in a good way, don’t get me wrong – but if you’re ever after a bit more fun than the suits and PhD’s of Storm Par, I’m sure we can squeeze you in.”

You snort. “They do not wear suits while storm chasing.”

“How do you know? You’ve only been here for twelve hours, Storm Par.”

Tyler smirks as you narrow your eyes at him. “Not my name, Owens.”

“Go and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” He can see that you’re exhausted, and even though you’re happily playing along with him, he’s not the type to push it too far. Especially when it comes to you, apparently. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

“You gonna set up camp outside my room?”

“No, not for someone I’ve only known for twelve hours. But I will guard the stairs incase Javi or Scott come looking for you,” he smiles, amusement in his every word. “Go on.”

You listen to him, eyeing him carefully one last time before turning and heading towards your room, which you think is at the end of the corridor. Just as you’re putting your key in the lock, you hear him yell out behind you.

“If you can’t sleep, you can always look up Tornado Wranglers on Youtube!” 

[fairyofshampgyu]

Super shy !

genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack

Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader

Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,

word count: 2.9k

As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.

Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!

Realistically, no.

But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.

And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.

“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.

With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.

“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”

You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.

You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-

“You’re such a virgin.”

His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.

“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.

"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.

So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”

“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.

Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"

"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.

“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.

Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"

"I’ll punch you right now."

"Then we'll both be fired~”

A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.

Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.

You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”

“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .

“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.

And that was the end of soobin. The end.

-

You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.

And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.

“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”

“But-”

“I said no buts!”

“You know I hate clubbing.”

“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.

“So? I know I’ll hate it.”

“You’re such a hater bro.”

“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”

Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.

Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.

-

In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”

Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.

It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!

“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”

“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.

You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”

He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”

“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”

“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.

“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”

Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”

“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.

“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”

“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.

“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.

“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”

Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?

You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.

You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”

He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.

“C-can you…can we…just want…”

“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.

“W-want you…”

“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.

He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.

You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.

You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.

You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.

With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.

He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.

“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”

“Yes please! Only want you.”

You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.

When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.

“You good, baby?”

“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.

You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.

“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.

So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.

“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.

“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.

It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?

After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.

“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.

“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.

You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

don' ask about the aesthetic k? k 💙

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

With how the hail storm rattled against the hull of the ship, and how the vessel careened on the waves, you were at a loss as to how Nami was fast asleep already.

The crew had settled down for sleep hours ago, the laughter and teasing from dinner falling into a soft silence draping over each and every one of you—well, except you, that is.

Even after months at sea, the incessant rocking had you curling into yourself, headache blooming under the skin of your temples. Groaning, you rolled around on your sheets, burying your face in your pillow as you shoved the blanket off your shoulders and down your body. Chill air hit you instantly, a contrast to the sweat rising from your skin. All you wanted was sleep, but your ears rang with the sound of rainfall and the far off thunder rumbling through the sky.

You tossed and turned again and again, rest ever so far away and the sway of the Going Merry making kept your mind alert with all its tilts and jumps. Yet another grunt of frustration huffed from your lips, and Nami finally sprang up, glaring at you from across the cabin.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her eyes heavy and her annoyance high.

Great. Now Nami was upset, which usually lasted a whole day if you were unlucky. You didn’t bother turning back to look at her, digging yourself deeper into your blanket. “Sorry…”

She sighed and rubbed at her cheek, gaze drifting over your exhausted form, taking in what she could in the dark. Settling back down, Nami said what she’d been thinking for the past two hours of listening to you loll around restlessly. “Just go sleep with Zoro.”

A beat passed, your eyes slowly opening as you tried to convince yourself you’d heard her wrong. You flipped around and gaped at the girl slinking into her sheets with a smirk you would catch through any dark room. “What? Why would I—Why would you—Nami!”

She chuckled darkly, her bright eyes finding yours. Nami propped her head up on her hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

Trying and failing to make a comeback, you opened and closed your mouth like a gaping fish, settling on crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s none of your business.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “But I’ve got dawn watch and am in desperate need of sleep.” All you did was stare at her, your glare fading. Nami rolled onto her back, offering into the silence, “It’s not like he’ll turn you away.”

You tried so very hard to let her logic roll off your shoulders, but it was cold (Zoro was warm) and you were tired (Zoro was a good napping buddy). As appealing as the idea was, you didn’t want to bother him. Zoro was probably just getting back from his night watch, Sanji heading up to the deck in his wake. Zoro wouldn’t turn you away, but he might grumble at you, and sometimes that was worse.

“Stop overthinking,” Nami’s voice whispered through a hiss. “He likes you.”

She was just trying to give you heart palpitations saying stuff like that. “Does not.”

“Mhmm. Get some sleep… with Zoro.”

You threw your pillow across the room, missing her bed by a longshot. You could throw pillows and shout whispered words at her all you wanted—it didn’t change that she had a point.

It wouldn’t be the first time you crawled into Zoro’s hammock late at night, seeking shelter from sleeplessness that seemed to miraculously melt in his embrace. Nami might’ve been right; Zoro might like you, at least more than he liked anybody else. It was confusing most days, but your mind was so mushy with fatigue you didn’t bother running over the finer details of your affections for the swordsman.

You puffed out a huff, eliciting a growl from the dark, “Go. Or neither of us will sleep.”

“Fine.” You threw off your blanket and marched out of the cabin before you could lose your nerve, trudging through the nearly pitch black hall of the Merry. 

You yelped as you tripped over a discarded broom, cursing into the night as you kicked it aside and kept on toward the boy’s cabin. As soon as you laid eyes on the closed door, your footsteps faltered, heart stuttering. 

The ship leaned on the waves and sent you teetering into the wall, and the decision was suddenly easy. You inched the door open gently, wincing at the momentary creak, and slipped inside. 

The boys’ cabin always had a… unique scent to it. Somewhere between burning socks and musk is how Nami described it. Honestly (now, you would never tell her this), you just thought it smelled like Zoro. Though Zoro might’ve been slightly less odorous on good days, you mused.

The swordsman of your infatuation lay in a swaying hammock tied up between two support beams holding up the ceiling. A flash of lightning illuminated his peaceful face for a brief moment, and the room was back to black. 

Collecting your wits, you approached him slowly, careful not to step on any of the clutters the boys left lying about. Lip pinched between your teeth, you stepped around a crate of slingshot ammo Usopp had crafted, catching your foot on the slingshot itself and jumping out of the way. 

You swept the room fretfully, yet no one stirred, the usual snores rising and falling. A sigh puffed form your chest as you turned back to Zoro’s hammock, only to lock eyes with the stoic swordsman as he gazed blearily up at you.

Lurching back, you calmed your racing heart and huffed at him. “You scared me.”

Zoro leaned up on his elbows, confused. “You scared me.” His gaze flickered all over your face. “What’re you doing?”

You fisted your hands, feeling like a deer at headlights, and blurted, “Nami kicked me out.”

Zoro’s brows drew instantly. “What?” He rose halfway when you hand found his chest, gently pushing him back down.

“I mean,” you amended. “I couldn’t sleep, and she got tired of me rolling around…” Bashful in how you averted your eyes, swaying on your feet, “I… sleep better with you. Y’know?”

Not even a second later he tugged on your arm to draw you closer, shuffling over to offer you some room. You smiled softly, falling into the space beside him, molding right into his side. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face warmed, your heart swelled, and you rested your head on the rigid outline of his shoulder, adjusting to find a comfortable place. Zoro’s arm slid under you and curled you further into his side, a sigh pulling from his chest, his muscles literally relaxing under each of your touches. 

There wasn’t a name for what you and Zoro were, not yet anyway, and somehow you were fine with that. He was there, and you were there, and that felt like enough. For now, you let your eyes finally give way to exhaustion, the pelting of the rain growing fainter and fainter. 

Nami was a tease, but she made some good points a lot of the time. You’d have to thank her in the morning, after you finally got to sleep in the arms of your swordsman.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentyThree

This Chapter is NSFW

Steve blinks awake; something woke him, some movement. Eddie. Eddie’s half flopped across Steve’s back where Steve’s laid on his stomach. He’s kissing his way across Steve’s shoulders, “twen-ty two,” he whispers haltingly to himself, then another soft kiss, “twe-n-ty three.”

Steve stretches, his shoulders still aching from finishing the pool yesterday. Eddie had helped a little, mostly holding the hose and washing down the sides. Even with Jon as an extra pair of hands it had still taken hours. Steve shifts, dislodging Eddie a little, “what you doing baby?”

“Winning.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “how do you mean?”

“Eddidie try more kisses,” he kisses Steve again, “twen-ty four.”

Steve rolls over, “I didn’t realize giving kisses was a competition.”

Eddie darts forward, kissing Steve on the cheek this time, but Steve manages to grab him and get him back, making Eddie giggle, “Eddidie twen-ty five. Stee One.”

“Oh you come here you cheater, I’m gonna’ win.”

Steve sighs as he hangs up the phone. Keith is a prick, and he’s always going to be a prick, who even works at nine in the morning on New Years day? Steve is certain that the store actually closes for New Years day and Keith has invented that shift just to torture Steve.

And he’s on the close on New Years eve which just...sucks. He sighs again. At least that one is with Robin. It’s like he wants to punish both of them.

“Okay Stee love?”

“I’m okay, but I’ve got to go back to work in a couple of days.”

Eddie frowns, “Eddidie work?”

“I...yeah. Maybe. When you’re ready yeah?”

Eddie looks a little sad, but he agrees, “Stee work time calendar?” Eddie goes off and gets a pen before Steve answers, and then waits, watching as Steve writes the shift times he has so far in the boxes on Eddie’s calendar.

Eddie squints at it, “called am p-m?” He says A M like the word, ‘am,’ and Steve knows he really needs to get onto those books Eddie got for Christmas.

“A.M is in the morning, and P.M is the afternoon. The night time.”

“Nine morning, nine night time?” Eddie asks, pointing.

“You got it baby…what do you want to do today?”

Eddie perks up immediately, “drive car?”

“I...yeah. You know what, fuck it, what’s Hopper going to do, arrest us?”

“Fuck it!” Eddie crows back, a massive grin on his face.

“Huh...I don’t know if I should tell you off or not. It feels like I should but that also feels dumb.”

“Feels dumb. Called arrest?”

“Oh it’s…so if Hopper finds someone who does something bad, he locks them away to keep everyone else safe?”

“Someone who...hurts people?” Eddie volunteers cautiously while they get their shoes on.

“Yeah. Yeah like that. It keeps everyone else safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, get your jacket.”

The ruins of Starcourt are pretty comprehensively taped and fenced off...but half the lot isn’t. Eddie eyes the ruin speculatively, “Eddidie in before?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s where you were when I found you.”

Eddie frowns, leaning over to touch Steve’s face delicately, around his eyes, the bridge of his nose,“Stee hurt.”

“I was, but that was ages ago now. I’m fine.”

Eddie accepts that, so Steve sits and explains to him what all the parts of the car do, how to put it in drive, and back into park, and then lets Eddie do it from the passenger seat. Then puts the seat all the way back, letting Eddie lean over to watch his feet, he shows him how to go and how to stop. He doesn’t bother with stuff like indicators yet, not wanting to over complicate things.

Eddie seems alright with all of it, and Steve figures he does trust Eddie; Eddie does pick shit up really really fast.

They swap seats, “okay, so, what do we do first?” Eddie reaches for the key where it hangs in the ignition, “ah ah,” Steve chides. “What’s first?”

Eddie thinks for a second before sheepishly clicking his belt on; Steve does the same, “now?”

“Sure baby, you can go now.”

Eddie starts the car, grinning big as it starts up. Steve watches as Eddie does the brake and carefully puts it in drive, “good?”

“Yeah, go on then, carefully though. Slow.”

“Carefully, slow.”

And Eddie does, the car inches forward, then picks up a little speed. Eddie’s leaning all the way forward in his seat, chest practically pressed against the wheel, both hands studiously at ten and two. They're probably doing all of a brisk walking speed, maybe a jog, but Eddie’s got a massive happy grin on his face. “Okay, turn then,” Eddie does, making random loops across the lot and then back again. “Okay, stop.” Eddie does, carefully shifting his feet. It jolts a little when they come to a full stop, Eddie pressing too sharply.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay, put her in park.” Eddie does, “okay, good, go on then, go again.”

Eddie does, and they do go a little faster, Eddie slowly gaining confidence.

They stop a few times, Steve explaining about the mirrors and then sets Eddie the challenge of parking the car up between the white lines in the empty spaces.

They go until Eddie’s stomach rumbles audibly, Steve completely having lost track of time, “okay, time to go home.”

Eddie nods agreeably, “home.”

They’re laid on the couch together, Eddie’s holding open one of the kids books he got for Christmas, sounding out the letters and making out the words. He never ceases to amaze Steve with just how fast he picks this stuff up.

Steve helps occasionally, but Eddie seems to be able to, mostly, intuit how the words should sound by working through the letters. He keeps digging Steve with his elbow though, when he shifts to itch his stomach, keeps wriggling around, and it only seems to be getting worse.

“What are you scratching at?” Eddie puts the book down, pulling his shirt up so they can both see; part of Eddie’s stomach looks like it’s peeling, like bad sunburn. It only seems to have been made worse by Eddie’s itching, the skin pink and lined.

Steve hums, “lets go put some cream on that.”

Investigation only revels more patches of dry flaking skin, randomly all over Eddie’s body. Steve was there when Eddie got dressed this morning, so he’s one hundred percent certain that these weren’t here then. The more he looks the more he finds, they’re up Eddie’s back, and under Eddie’s bobble hat looks like the worse case of dandruff Steve’s ever seen.

“I hope you’re not allergic to something.”

“Called allergic?”

“It’s- I. I don’t even know how to explain this,” Steve sighs, “sometimes people...something doesn’t agree with them?” Eddie tilts his head, scratching absently at his thigh, Steve gently pulls his hand away, ��don’t itch it. Okay...for some people, just very few, laundry powder makes their skin itchy. For no reason, it just...happens. Or some food. Maybe just one person can’t eat nuts, it’ll make them hurt.”

Eddie frowns, but nods, using his free hand to scratch at his back, so Steve grabs that hand, too.

“We should call Joyce, she might know what to do with the itching.” The cream doesn’t seem to be helping, it’s just making Eddie itchy and greasy at the same time.

“Call Joyce yes.”

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey, Will. Is Joyce home?”

“Sure yeah, just a minute. Can we come over to the store tomorrow? Mike said Nancy said Robin said you’re going back to work tomorrow morning?”

And Steve can hear Mike in his head, ‘and Steve’s at least good for his stupid staff discount,’ “Yeah, yeah sure-”

“Cool so we can come watch stuff tomorrow afternoon?”

“I-yeah,” Steve looks at where Eddie is using a door frame to scratch between his shoulder blades, rubbing back and forth aggressively, “yeah, maybe.”

“Cool, okay, see you tomorrow!”

There’s a moment of quiet, and then, “hello?”

“Oh, hi, Joyce. It’s, uhm...Eddie’s kind of, itchy? Like he’s suddenly peeling all over? Do you know what we could do?”

“Oh...well when the boys had had chicken pox I put them in the bath with some baking soda, that helped?”

“Okay, okay yeah, I’ll give that a go, I just don’t know why this is happening.”

“It does kind of make sense, new born babies peel.”

“They do?” Steve asks, slightly horrified.

“Yeah, yeah, usually happens sort of within the first week, I think. What was his first poop like?”

“I-” Steve stalls for a second, this conversation having just taken a really weird turn, “I don’t know, hang on,” Steve pulls the phone away from his ear, “Eddie?”

Eddie comes over, “Joyce says the peeling is normal, we can go have a bath in a minute, it might make it better, okay?”

“Together?” Eddie asks, and Steve can hear Joyce snickering down the phone, clearly having heard it.

Steve just ignores that whole thing, “what was your first poop like?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “green. Sticky.”

Really? Steve thinks, green? Steve puts the phone back to his ear, “did you hear that?”

“Yeah, that makes sense Steve, it all tracks. He’s just like a newborn.”

That is...not appealing, Steve can’t help but think.

Eddie’s skin sloughs off like something out of a horror movie. Once lubricated by the warm water, made to feel slick with the baking soda, it comes away in great curling pieces. Eddie picks at himself with his claw like nails, Steve leaning over the edge and getting all the little flakes with a loofah. Steve gets to Eddie’s feet, and Eddie giggles and tries to drag his foot away when Steve gets to the arch, thrashing in surprise.

“You’re ticklish!” Steve tells him, delighted.

“Not,” Eddie insists, almost immediately.

“Alright, so you won’t mind if I-” Steve pins his ankle in the water, using his other hand to tickle Eddie’s foot.

Eddie thrashes, water going everywhere, “stop. No. Stee, Stee, stop,” he can barely get the words out he’s laughing and thrashing so much, but Steve takes mercy on him and doesn’t do it for long.

Eddie’s still laughing after, trying to catch his breath, wriggling his toes and watching in amazement. Once he’s settled down, he reaches into the water, bending a knee to reach and tickle his own foot, then frowning when nothing happens, “Stee? Not ticklish.”

“Oh,” Steve says the picture of innocence, “let me try?”

Eddie nods, watching, and then instantly fighting again, laughing, Steve’s clothes are wet with splashed water, “Stee Stee noooooo,” Eddie wails, but when Steve stops again he’s grinning, all flush and breathless.

“Ticklish,” Steve tells him.

“Stee ticklish?”

“Nope,” Steve lies confidently, there is no way in hell he’s giving Eddie that one.

“Why ticklish time Stee touch, not ticklish time Eddidie touch?”

“I...you know I don’t actually know why you can’t tickle yourself. Just one of those things, I guess,” he says, shrugging, “right I think you’re all done, most of it’s gone, right?”

“Most of it’s gone, right.”

Eddie’s still flaking the last tiny bits as he dries off, but it seems to be pretty much done; Eddie drops his towel in the hamper, and pouts when Steve makes him put his hat in there too, “it’s covered in skin, we can do laundry and you’ll have it back, okay?”

“Okay. Bed now?”

“It’s too early for bed-” Eddie comes and stands in front of Steve, completely naked, pressing himself forward, holding Steve’s hips, “ohhhhh...bed now. Sure, yep, we can do that.”

Eddie grins, peeling Steve’s damp shirt up, Steve lifting his arms to help. Eddie drops it carelessly on the floor, going next for Steve's pants, pulling everything down in one go and letting it drop so that Steve can step out of it and kick it away. Steve takes Eddie by the hips and walks him back towards the bed.

Eddie goes easily, shuffling his way back, Steve crawling on after him to climb between Eddie’s parted legs, keeping his weight off Eddie and on his forearms, leaning down for more hungry kisses.

Steve feels it when Eddie’s dick slips out, the head nuzzling against Steve’s pubic hair as Steve’s own cock starts to firm up, to fill out. Eddie’s dick isn’t as intimidating now Steve knows it can’t bite him, those little nobbles are too small to do anything, and even when it was holding on as tight as it could to Steve’s thumb, during Eddie’s orgasm, it didn’t hurt at all.

Steve reaches down to adjust himself, pulling his hardening cock up to lie against the crease of Eddie’s hip, rather than being trapped pointing down. Eddie’s cock follows Steve’s fingers immediately, and Steve stops a second to pet it, stroking along the length before he goes back to resting on both arms, leaning in for more kisses.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, parting his legs naturally to accommodate Steve as he settles in, Eddie drawing his knees up a little. The position is close enough that it makes Steve think...makes him remember a thought he'd had from the first time, “can we try something?”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie replies easily.

“Okay, but I need to make you come first, alright?” Eddie nods, clearly very happy with that plan.

Steve hums, thinking. Eddie’s never had sex with anyone else; Eddie is, also, a creature from The Upside Down. Eddie bit Steve’s toes off and it never got infected, and they’ve also kissed and touched a lot and Steve’s never gotten sick, never shown any sign of catching anything. There doesn’t seem to be any possibility that Eddie might be a...carrier, of some sort of disease but...on the balance of probability, Steve figures better safe than sorry. Steve’s been with plenty of girls, but he’s always used protection, so he’s pretty sure that he’s clean but...what if he isn't, and he inadvertently gives something to Eddie? Steve has no idea what Eddie’s immune system might be like and...yeah. Eddie definitely can’t make an informed choice around all this, at least, not yet. So.

He leans over, shifting off Eddie a little to rummage in the top drawer, his fingers fiddling in the box until he manages to pull out a condom.

He leaves the wrapper there on the bed, in easy reach.

“Called?”

“Oh, it’s a condom. I’ll show you what it’s for in a bit, okay?”

Eddie nods, accepting that, before pulling Steve down for more kisses. Soft and sweet, with just a hint of Eddie’s only slightly too sharp teeth. They kiss, Steve taking his time, just enjoying the feeling of Eddie holding him. Eddie’s hands are just as curious as his mind, left to their own devices they roam every bit of Steve they can reach, flowing the dip of his spine and the curve of his ass. Groping and kneading at his shoulders, the tops of his arms. Buried in his hair, scratching gently and tugging lightly. Steve drinks it all in; can feel how much Eddie loves him, how intent every touch is. Like Eddie’s memorizing him.

Like every inch of Steve is precious.

Likewise Eddie’s cock is wriggling back and forward between them, burrowing it's way through the narrow space, the head rubbing against Steve’s hip and then nuzzling into his pubes; he feels it when the head opens, the flower petals pressing against Steve’s skin before moving on. He feels it when Eddie’s cock finds the base of his own, it seems to wriggle around it, the head pressing against one side and withdrawing, only to creep along the other. The petals open, grasping at the hard flesh at the base of Steve’s dick. He moans, rutting against the crease of Eddie’s thigh, Eddie’s dick following the movement, hanging on in a gentle clutch at Steve’s flesh.

Eddie likes it too, if the huffing, breathy little sighs he’s letting out are anything to go by, so Steve doesn’t stop. He lifts enough to look down between their bodies, and Eddie does the same. The black flower petals are a stark contrast against the skin of Steve’s cock; they’ve latched to the side, near the base, and a thick drip of precome stretches a connection between the head of Steve’s cock and the skin of Eddie’s hip.

Eddie starts wriggling, hips lifting, “Stee. Please more? Eddidie come.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve lets his hips rest against the cradle of Eddie’s again, keeping his weight on his forearms he leans in for kisses that Eddie returns eagerly, matching the movements of Steve’s hips with an enthusiastic slide of his own, Steve’s cock slippery wet now with precome, “you close to coming baby?”

Eddie frowns, head tilted back, letting Steve kiss and nip at his throat, “yes no.”

“Okay,” and Steve can’t keep doing this for that much longer, otherwise he’s going to come and that’ll be the end of his idea, “want me to touch you?”

“Yes. Touch good.”

“Okay,” Steve pulls off completely then, letting himself tilt to the side. Eddie’s dick looks like it’s stretched to the absolute limit, clearly not wanting to let go of Steve. Steve reached down, distracting it with the touch of fingers; it goes eagerly. Once Eddie’s dick has let go, Steve rolls the rest of the way to lie on his hip, the same as last time, snugged up against Eddie’s side. He takes Eddie’s eager cock in hand more naturally this time, more sure of what he’s doing.

He kisses Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie turns into it. He’s clearly distracted, his kisses sloppier now, wetter, half the time his mouth hanging open as he pants and moans quietly, Steve’s thumb working circles across the open head of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie whimpers, “okay?”

Eddie shakes his head, frowning, “not-not coming.” He squirms, face crinkled up in frustration and, possibly, discomfort, so Steve stops but Eddie immediately says, “no. More touch,” so Steve starts up the gentle movements of his thumb. Eddie’s hips squirm more, his cock pulsing and twitching, almost bucking in Steve’s hand; he’s so close, Steve knows he is, there’s just something stopping him.

Eddie needs more, and Steve doesn’t know what to do for him; it’s not like Eddie has nipples he can play with, “baby, what do you need?”

“Rough,” Eddie says suddenly, and oh, Steve gets that, maybe his thumbs tugging a little. He sits up, leaning over same as before, letting his mouth fill with spit. He pins Eddie’s cock still, but it’s wriggling so much that only half of it lands on target, the rest spattering on the webbing between Steve’s finger and thumb.

Steve doesn’t have chance to even get his thumb back in place, that’s enough, Eddie’s hips bucking as he cries out, the loudest noise he’s made so far. The flower petals half close, then open a little, doing a weird little celebratory Mexican wave type thing as Eddie’s back arches sharply, and his right leg twitches violently.

Steve just rides it out, letting Eddie’s body lift his own as Eddie’s hips roll again and again. Eventually it passes and Eddie settles, “okay baby?”

Eddie hums, his cheeks flush and his brown eyes bright, “perfect okay.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “all done?”

Eddie nods, then sighs with contentment, “inied.”

“Good,” Steve lets his cock go, it’s almost funny how it sort of lays down, like a little drunk dude just lying right there on the floor. “Still up for trying something?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay,” Steve clambers up, sitting on his knees next to Eddie, he opens the condom and then, pinching the end, carefully rolls it down to the base of his own cock.

“Why?” Eddie asks, watching with interest now.

“Oh it...well. If you were a girl, it would stop you getting pregnant.”

“Called preg-nant?” Eddie sounds the word out slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve pats his own stomach, trying to word it how Eddie might understand, “planting a baby.”

“Eddidie baby,” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, yeah I know, but I mean baby like...tadpole.”

Eddie sits up then, “tell Eddidie many many baby! Baby called tadpole! Eddidie not kid!”

Steve rubs his face, “oh man,” Steve gets Eddie by the shoulders, but he can’t help but smile, “baby is because...I love you, okay? I know you’re not a tadpole. I know you’re not a kid, okay, it’s just...someone special. Someone important. I love you, okay?”

“Okay,” but Eddie doesn’t look like he’s buying it, at all. And Steve’s sitting here with a throbbingly hard dick and it’s not exactly the conversation he wants to be having right this second.

“Okay, moles? Remember how moles are little animals but moles are also this,” Steve points to his neck, Eddie nods, “two different...but it’s the same word, yeah?”

Eddie’s face lights with understanding, and Steve knows he’s won, “okay, yeah. Eddidie baby.”

“Okay...so how do you feel about me putting my dick in you?” Steve shuffles between Eddie’s legs, his hard cock pointing the way to exactly where he wants to be.

“In? Wet?” Eddie questions. He reaches down to indicate what he means, he uses two fingers, his black oval shaped nails part his glistening wet slit in what is, unintentionally, possibly one of the most erotic things Steve’s ever seen. From where he’s kneeling between Eddie’s spread thighs, he gets a good look at just how wet and pink Eddie is inside, flooded with clear, jello like come.

Steve cock twitches, remembering just how tight it was on his finger, he tries to speak and fails, needing to clear his throat, “yeah, in. Do you want to try?”

Eddie nods, lying back and bending his knees more, letting his thighs fall further apart, the mouth of the slit slick and gaping.

Steve takes a deep breath, letting himself sink forward and down, he takes his weight on one hand where he hovers over Eddie. Using his other hand to guide the head of his dick, notching it at the opening of Eddie’s body.

Eddie's hand flies to Steve’s shoulder, gripping hard, so Steve stops, his eyes dragging, with great difficulty, away from where the rounded head of his condom covered dick is just breaching Eddie, “okay?”

Eddie frowns a little, looking worried, “slowly? Carefully?”

“I-yeah, of course. Eddie we don’t have to do this-”

“Eddidie try,” Eddie insists, “Eddidie tell no.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Eddidie tell no,” he says again, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, but you’ll tell me if it does hurt?”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie tell ow.”

“Okay,” Steve looks back down to what he’s doing, allowing himself to slide forward just the most fraction of an inch.

Almost immediately Eddie says, “ow.”

Steve freezes, looking back up. “It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie says innocently.

Steve can tell Eddie’s trying, and failing, to hide a grin, “you’re such a little shit.”

Eddie does laugh then, “little shit. Okay, Steve in now. Promise okay now.”

Steve shakes his head, taking a deep breath, he sinks in. Eddie’s channel is narrow, and it grips the sides of Steve’s cock beautifully. Eddie’s come is so thick and wet it slicks the way, and Eddie is just so fucking warm inside. It’s bliss.

He’s so wet inside that when Steve bottoms out, there’s an obscenely wet squelching noise, and Steve can feel the thick gloop of it dripping out and seeping onto his balls, forced out of Eddie’s body by Steve’s cock. “How does that feel? Okay?”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it again, like he often does when he’s searching his limited vocabulary. He presses a hand to his stomach, lifting it a little to indicate being bloated or...“after Christmas food.”

“Full.”

Eddie nods, “full,” he shifts then, experimentally rolling his hips, and Steve can’t help but moan at the sucking drag of Eddie’s hole on Steve cock. “Good?”

“So good. You’re so so good for me baby, can I move?”

“Go, yes.”

Steve keeps his weight up off of Eddie, mostly because he wants to watch. When he pulls his cock back out, it’s shiny wet, clumps of Eddie’s slick clinging to the condom like slithers of jello. Steve, cautiously, slides all the way back in.

Eddie sighs, lifting one leg to rest his calf on Steve’s back, changing the angle a little so that Steve’s cock is guided now by the bottom of Eddie’s channel, he’s gripped tight on three sides, and it’s not like anything Steve’s ever felt before.

He already knows this is going to be a short show, but he’s pretty sure Eddie said he can’t come like this anyway, so hopefully he doesn’t mind. The glide is so slick Steve rocks in and out easily, his skin warming, the space between them becoming clammy. Steve can distinctly feel that crease of flesh, the pucker he’d found, dragging up and down the underside of his cock with every thrust.

Eddie holds him tight, one hand gripping Steve’s side, the other on his shoulder before it migrates into Steve’s hair when he leans down to kiss Eddie.

His balls are tight and wet with slick where they're nudging up against Eddie's body, and he’s so close already, he just needs his mouth on Eddie, needs Eddie’s tongue in his mouth when he chokes out a groan, “gonna’ come baby,” against Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie’s eyes are alert and bright, watching with interest. He makes little huffing noises when Steve goes particularly deep but otherwise he’s not showing much sign of actually getting off on this, “yes. Come in Eddidie.”

Steve does, his cock twitching as he grinds up tight to Eddie, filling the condom with sticky mess. He’s a little out of breath as he comes down, panting where his face is buried in the crook of Eddie’s neck; Eddie rubbing his back lovingly, “good Stee?”

“Yeah. Yeah so good baby, thank you.”

“Get cleaned up?”

Steve laughs a little, then forces himself to move, reaching between them to grip the condom at the base so he can pull out. Eddie makes a little chirrup of a noise when Steve’s clear of him, a little shiver running the length of his body and then he stretches luxuriously, arms above his head, wriggling his toes, a picture of contentment. All of his crotch is shiny wet, and as Steve watches his dick sort of rolls over and then slowly withdraws.

Steve pulls off the condom and ties it, Eddie watching with interest, then wrinkling his nose when he sees what’s inside, “taste bad.”

“Well I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Eddie trails after Steve into the bathroom, watching as he ditches the condom in the trash, “called complaints?”

“Uhm...no one else, other people, non of them said it tastes bad.”

Steve’s got the shower going, and when he turns, Eddie’s frown is nuclear, his hands on his hips in a determined Steve pose, “other people,” he repeats icily.

“Oh boy.”

Steve sighs. He’s been back to work for, he checks the clock for about the hundredth time, nearly two hours, and he’s already had enough. He’s almost looking forward to the kids showing up. Not that it isn’t nice to finally spend some time with Robin but...he kind of misses Eddie. It’s probably like, the honey moon stage, or whatever, the first shiny new part of a relationship when all you want it them but...still.

When the phone rings, Robin calls, “I’m not getting that.”

Steve sighs, leaving his stack of returns and leaning over the counter to scrabble for the phone, “hello, Family Video, how can I help-”

“Stee love.”

“Eddie? How did you- never mind, you okay?”

“No. Eddidie ow. Hurt.”

“Okay, I’m coming home, not long.” Steve hangs up, “Robs! I just got to go home a second, that okay?”

“Oh no,” she says from where she’s rolling back and forth on the office chair, waiting for a tape to rewind, “whatever will I do in the face of this horde of customers,” there’s currently one dude in the store, “I shall never cope with-”

“Yeah yeah, back soon.”

Steve doesn’t break any traffic laws on the way home, but he probably pushes it. Eddie’s on the couch when Steve gets in, looking alert and watching for Steve, “you okay?”

“Eddidie hurt,” he says, looking sad suddenly.

“Okay, show me.”

And Eddie stalls. Just for a moment, but long enough for Steve to catch it, before he, vaguely, indicates his tummy.

Steve suddenly has an inkling as to what’s going on here, but he comes to sit next to Eddie anyway, resting a gentle hand on his tummy, “hows that.”

Eddie nods, “good. TV?”

“Oh no. If you’re sick, then no TV. We just have to sit quiet.”

“Dinner food?”

“Definitely not. No. Here, lie down.”

Eddie does, but with a frown on his face, “Stee Eddidie out in car?”

“Nope.”

Eddie’s pout has achieved spectacular levels, “why?”

“Because you’re sick.”

It seems to dawn on Eddie that he has been completely caught out in his lie. Steve watches it happen, the emotions slowly play out. Eddie looks like he’s going through the stages of grief or something.

“How did you get works number? To call me?”

“One book,” it sounds like ‘own book.’

Steve hums, “how did you know which number it was?”

Eddie points to Steve’s vest, where it clearly says ‘Family Video’ over the little breast pocket.

“You’re so fucking clever. But I have to go back to work. You’re fine, aren’t you?” Eddie pouts, “you must never tell lies.”

“Called lie?” Eddie asks, shame faced now, plucking at his sleeve.

“Not true.” Steve tugs at his vest, “this is green. True. This is blue. Lie. Eddie is fine, true. Eddie has an ow, lie. We never tell lies.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Steve bends down to kiss Eddie on the cheek, “I’ll be back around nine, okay?”

“Steve, you want anything else?”

“No thanks Joyce that was amazing. Here, let me help with dishes, you should sit.”

“No, you’re a guest-”

“Let the kid help-” Hopper starts.

“Because it gets you out of it,” Joyce huffs, but it’s fond, and she leans over and kisses Hop on the cheek.

When Steve gets back, Eddie is sitting on the couch with El, one leg pulled up, his fingers locked together over his shin, “Steve,” she says.

Eddie leans forward, a look of great concentration on his face, “Ste-eee,” he says, but it comes out wobbling and uncertain.

“No, it’s got a ‘v’ in it,” and she makes the ‘v’ sound again, “so, Stee-ve,”

“Vee?” El nods, “Ste-vie?”

Steve’s heart flutters in his chest. Watching them, he feels a strange sense of happiness for Eddie, but also melancholy; he knows he’s about to loose, ‘Stee’. It was inevitable, he knows, Eddie’s getting better at speaking all the time. This was always going to happen.

“Almost, Steve,” she stresses the second part of Steve’s name.

“Steee-vie?” Eddie frowns, looking a bit frustrated that his mouth isn’t cooperating.

“I like Stevie,” Steve says, heading over to them.

Eddie nods, “Ste-vie,” he says proudly, “Stevie love?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve wedges himself between Eddie and the arm of the couch, then Jon files in and sits on the floor, making room as the coffee table gets shifted. Joyce

Hopper and Mike squeeze onto the other couch, “here kid,” Hopper passes an envelope across.

Out of it fall a drivers license, a passport, a birth certificate. Steve is caught for a second looking at the little picture of Eddie in his wig, and he guesses it works well enough. You have to really squint at the little picture to figure anything is up with it, and even then Steve figures he knows so he's looking for it, and the picture is obviously Eddie. He reads the details on the license, “Edwin!” He says, suddenly outraged, “Munson?! Hopper what the-”

“It’s what it said on the paper!”

“It did not say ‘Edwin’-”

“Eddie is not anyone's name kid, Eddie is always short for something else-”

“Edwin though?!”

“It was the first thing that popped into my head-”

Steve feels Eddie take the stack of papers out of his hands to inspect them, “and Munson? It said Mon-son! With an ‘O’!”

“It did not!” Hopper digs around in his pocket for the scrap of paper Steve had handed him along with the photos, “here, Munson.”

“That’s an ‘O’!”

“Well it looks like a ‘U’!”

“Stevie,” Eddie says carefully, “Stevie love, drive car again now?”

Steve looks over, Eddie’s carefully turning the pages of his new passport, inspecting his license, reading his birth certificate, like all of it is the most precious things he’s ever seen, “yeah,” Steve sighs. “Yeah, yeah of course.” Eddie beams at him.

Hoppers eyebrows are practically in his hair, “what does he mean, ‘again’?”

Part twentyfive

[lilyarchived]

distanced [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: can you tell i like writing angst?

warnings: swearing, hurt to comfort, fem outfit, a little ooc if you squint, 1.201 words oops

summary: after a fight with ghost, you don’t pay any attention to him for the whole day, deciding it’s what he wants anyway.

“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” you sniffle, turning your back and grabbing your keys, storming out of the little apartment complex you two had been sharing for 6 months. his breathing was heavy, his huge form heaving up and down as he just watched you leave. ‘that’s it, then?’ you think to yourself, hesitant to keep walking to your car. god it was freezing. you go to fix your coat but you haven’t brought one. sighing, you quicken your pace to the car. it was dark out. 

your drive to your old apartment was quick, it was 2 am and the only cars out were people who had night shifts. you just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that’s all; yet that seemed to set him off. screaming and tears were all that you remembered. you remembered how you flinched when he raised his hand to fix his hair. you remember his horrified look. you remember getting in your car and, oh. that’s now.

you reach your apartment and the first thing you do is lay down for 10 minutes to cool down. after deciding that’s enough moping around, you take a good look at your surroundings and decide it’s time for redecorating. you spent the whole early morning moving furniture around and hanging up new posters and renewing bedsheets, and adding new scents to your humidifier, and blasting feel good songs, and.. and.. you miss him.

never mind that, you finish up and decide to take time for yourself to unwind, showering, skincare, reading, and doing all sorts of your hobbies you haven’t gotten the chance to do. sitting comfortably on your polished couch as you flip through the pages of your book and take a long sip of your warm coffee, you start to appreciate life and yourself just a little bit more. that doesn’t help the fact that there is a part of you longing for him, missing how he’d usually be behind you cuddling, some documentary playing in the background as his soft snores fill the silence.

stop it! god! get a grip, [Y/N]! stop thinking about him! what���s so good about Lieutenant Simon “ Ghost “ Riley anyway!? it’s not like he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, not like he has that one soft look whenever it comes to you, it’s not like,, you love him. a long and exaggerated sigh came out of you as the realisation hits. you do love him. but what does it matter now? it’s been 4 long hours since you’ve seen him, he hasn’t even called! you check your phone again to look for any missed calls but all you get is a message from soap saying “yer late 2day?” ‘ohhh no.’ “shit.” you mumble as you search for your keys as you race to your car and get to the base as fast as you can. 

you blast through the debriefing room wearing a brown tank top with a brown cardigan hanging loosely, your moss green long skirt ruffled as you plop your messenger bag on the table, hair claw barely keeping your wild hair up. headphones still hanging on your neck as you apologise for being late. “glad to see you’ve dressed up first, eh?” price remarks with a small smile as he continues talking, your cheeks blushing from embarrassment, forgetting to get into uniform since you had left in such a rush. you straighten your hair as you take notes during the whole meeting, all while feeling a familiar pair of eyes scan your body.

you’re purposefully ignoring him, going straight to your office once the debriefing was over, despite his calls for your name. he didn’t wanna spend time with you? that’s fine, you’ll give him what he so desperately wants. you lock yourself in the room to take at least 3 minutes to just get a hold of yourself and breathe. you finally get up to do some of the paperwork you’ve been putting off, and get to price’s office to be assigned more.

“this is unusual, you want more work?” he raises an eyebrow at you before filing some more paper. “yes sir.” a hum is all you get out of him. you stand there for at least another minute waiting for more orders, that is until he calls in the man you’ve been dreading to see. “WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD YOU-” you shut up instantly as you hold your breath when his big frame comes in. “go help him out with drills, since you so badly want to work.” your captain’s sassy ass voice is making your eye twitch, but you nonetheless comply. you were the first to step out of the room infuriated and hot-headed, awaiting more orders from your lieutenant.  

as soon as you finish up helping the new recruits as ordered, you ignored your boyfriend's orders of wanting to talk after the drills. you speed walk to your room to lay down, bruised feet and sore back, whining and groaning at the pain. you immediately sit up as you hear your bedroom door creak open, wondering who it is since you had it locked. you go through the list of who could have your key and the only one to cross your mind is your boyfriend you’ve been ignoring for the whole day. and to no surprise it’s him, simon riley, who walks into your door and kneels beside your legs.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and groggily shuffling your hair. he just sighs and starts massaging your legs, hoping you would take this as a silent apology. “god stop it, simon.”

he doesn’t listen to your complaints as he pushes your small frame (compared to his, i mean c'mon this man is a giant) on the bed, laying you down as he cuddles on top of you. “si- i can’t breathe.” he only shifts a little to the side so that he wouldn’t accidentally crush you with his sheer strength. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry like that.” your eyes flutter shut as you calm your breathing, still being bear hugged by your lieutenant beside you. “was so worried, thought i’d never see you again.” his deep vibrating voice tickles your ears, making you slightly happy. the warmth you’ve been longing for was back.

“don’t you ever do that to me again.” you whisper, finally hugging him back and facing him for the first time in a while. “yes ma’am.” he replies, moving your stray hair strands back to see your face better. “won’t ever let you go again.”

a/n: outfit i was thinking of ,, anyway this was kinda like forced, i’ve been wanting to write this for so long and only got the time to do so now sooooooooooooo hope u like it mwua mwua stay hydrated

[iamasimperyk]

Jealous -Rafe Cameron

Summary: You are Rafe's younger girlfriend and he introduces you to his family.

Warnings: Age gap, fluff, angst, judgy people, English is not my first language, not proofread

Pairing: Older!Rafe x Younger!Reader

A.N; I honestly don't know what this is. I had an idea but somehow, I couldn't find the right words to make it really work.

Your parents introduced him to you at Midsummers. Rafe Cameron, son of Ward Cameron and new owner of every one of his father's companies. 

The first time his eyes found yours, he knew he had to have you, and you were naive enough to fall for his charm. He was almost ten years older than you, and for the first time in your life, you felt safe. You knew Rafe cared for you, always wanting what was best for you. 

"Don't you think it's too much?" You asked Rafe, wearing a fancy dress he just bought and all kinds of expensive jewellery he gifted you whenever he had the chance. 

Rafe looked at you, all dolled up for him. He loved it, and he loved to show you off, "You look amazing, darling. Everybody will be jealous that I get to call you mine."

Rafe's family decided to throw a party when they learned that Rafe finally found a girlfriend. You were excited to meet everyone since Rafe has met every person in your family.

"I just hope they like me," You smiled up at him, your eyes shining brightly.

He cupped your face with his hands, kissing your forehead, "I am going to marry you one day, no matter what they say."

You didn't say anything, but Rafe knew what you thought. Quickly, you reached up and kissed him before you ran back into the bathroom.

----

When the two of you arrived, everybody stared at you. Rafe wrapped his arm around you and started to introduce you to his family members. 

After an hour of talking, you excused yourself, trying to find the toilet, when you heard a group of women talking about you.

"I mean, is she even legal yet?" One of them laughed.

"I bet she is just with him because he is rich. She will never have to lift a finger since he already owns a fortune." Another one answered, shaking her head.

The whole group let out a laugh, "She will probably be pregnant soon, so he is tied to her and won't leave her again."

You didn't want to hear another of their theories and walked back to Rafe as fast as possible.

When Rafe saw you, his face immediately softened, and he wrapped his arm around your waist once again. One of the things he always did was touch you in some way. He needed to feel you to make sure you are still here.

"Are you okay, love?" Rafe asked as soon as he saw your facial expression.

You nodded, "Of course, I am fine, don't worry."

Rafe turned his attention back to his sister, whom he had previously talked to, "Would you excuse us."

Before she could answer, he pulled you into an empty room, waiting for you to start talking.

You couldn't keep your face straight anymore, and your eyes filled with tears. 

Rafe felt angry, frustrated and helpless as he saw you crying. Someone dared hurt his precious girl. 

"Darling, please tell me what happened," Rafe said, hugging you tightly while stroking your hair.

After a few more minutes, you calmed down and told Rafe about the conversation you listened to.

"Fuck them. They are jealous because they are not as beautiful as you and were at least married twice." He rolled his eyes, still fuming on the inside.

Rafe took you home immediately after your conversation and showed you just how much he loved you. 

Maybe you were younger than him, but you were one of the most mature people he ever met.

[demonic0angel]

Dpxdc: Danny x Supergirl. Kara and Danny are pining hard for each other. They both want someone stronger than them and believe it's the other but not themselves.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Jazz teased, gesturing to Danny’s grand and elaborate present of colorful roses, strange alien flowers, and at least a few other plants from space.

“Jazz, she’s the absolute best! She’s so strong and she knows so much about space and she can cut me in half and—” Danny gushed.

Jazz interrupted, “Are those Kryptonian carnations?”

Danny cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I asked Clockwork if I could go back in time and pick some flowers.”

Jazz raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Wow. Wait until Sam and Tucker hear about this, you’re never going to hear the end of it. Does she like you back?”

Danny blushed. “I don’t know. That’s why I want to give her these flowers and see.”

Jazz cooed, “Aww! Well, it can’t go too badly, right? I’m sure she’ll like it!”

“None of you get ittttt,” Danny whined. “She’s so perfect! She’s strong and brave and lovely and fast and she’s so cool! She’s absolutely amazing, how am I going to even compare to such a perfect being?!”

“Kryptonian carnations and power enough to make you impressed? Don’t tell me… are you crushing on Supergirl?” Jazz gasped. “Oh! Dani’s going to be so happy! She always wanted her as a sister-in-law, but I guess she can have her as a sister-in-law this way too.”

Danny looked at Jazz with a blush. “W-Who said I’m marrying her?! I didn’t even ask her out yet!”

“Puh-lease,” Jazz said, rolling her eyes. “Clockwork almost never lets us go to the past to do anything but fix something. If he’s letting you take flowers from Krypton, he probably has a plan, and you’re most definitely going to be able to ask her out. C’mon, Danny, confidence! Go and ask Supergirl out!”

She then moved to push him out the door. “I heard there was a robbery just half an hour ago! Maybe she’s still out there! Go, go, go!”

Danny quickly transformed and flew off with a quick, “Thanks!” before disappearing to find Supergirl with the bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Jazz shook her head as she watched him go. A sticky note appeared in her hands and she looked down before giving a snort.

‘Wedding date is in 2 years, 10 months, and 21 days. Prepare well. — Clockwork’

[afsalovesnikolai]

Omg could I request a yandere gojo who’s also our next door neighbor? Maybe they met by the reader being conveniently helpful, not thinking much of it? But also assuming reader has a petty sense of humor, and doesn’t get half of his social cues suggesting his interest for other than him gluing to her whenever possible.

omg a reader whos dense? guys this is litteraly me, i love this concept smmm

Warning : yandere type shit, also reader is a smoker (vaugely and barely mentiond)

Omg yall i wanna make another part, lmk if yall want one too, lowkey wanna make a series building up to his obsession in ur pov....i might.

Btw if u havent noticed i am actually so big brain, i am storming ideas fast. Keep sending in reqs!!

You never thought that living next to someone like Satoru Gojo would be anything out of the ordinary. He was charming, a bit of a flirt, and definitely the life of anybody in the gloomy neighborhood. But you quickly learned that there was more to him than met the eye.

It all started one lazy afternoon when you noticed him struggling to carry in a mountain of grocery bags. He was balancing them awkwardly, he looked strong with muscles and everything, he just wasn't balacing them right at all. It was so obvious too. And it looked like he might drop everything at any moment if you didnt rush over. You couldn’t help but step outside from the lobby of your dingy apartment complex, your curiosity perked and wanting to converse in small talk due to boredom. “Need a hand, or are you trying out for a circus act?” you joked, a playful smirk on your face.

He looked up, his signature grin lighting up his features. “Circus? Nah, but I could use your help to make these bags disappear,” he replied, flashing that mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “What’s the point of having a neighbor if they won’t help you out?” he retorted playfully as his gaze on you never wavers.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, rolling your eyes, and before you knew it, you were taking a few bags from him, both of you heading to his front door, but not before going to the main lobby to go to the elevator. He was your neighbor too so obviously why wouldn't you help? Being a good neighbor was the least you could provide as service!

As you chatted, his conversation flowed easily, he seemed to be interested in anything you were saying, and occasionaly asked questions that may have come across as personal. But honestly you didnt seem to notice the questions. Neither did you notice the glances directed your way and his gaze lingering on you for far too long, the way his smile always slightly rised whenever you accidently brushed against him. Due to the elevator space and the amount of grocerries in hand.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself running into Gojo more often. He was always “conveniently” around when you were outside for a smoke since smoking wasn't permitted inside the complex or apartments. While you thought he was just friendly, there was a deeper undercurrent to his attention that you were blissfully unaware of. Very blissfully unaware of, thankfully.

One evening, you decided to play a small prank on him, no harm. He'd just been annoying lately. You slipped a sticky note on a small carton of milk planted right near his door, claiming that he’d won an award for “Most Annoying Neighbor.” The corners of your mouth slightly raised, a harmless joke, as you walked away to go to work, curious as to what his reaction will be later.

The next few hours later when you were lounging on your couch, watching a show mindlessly in the dark, you heard a few knocks on the door, confused, you hesitantly try to peek out the window, near the door but instead you see a figure wearing all black. You then sigh as you check the peephole and see him. Standing out there at night as he leans on one leg with a hand on his hip.

He's now appeared at your door, the note in hand and an amused yet intense look in his eyes. “You think this is funny?” he said, stepping just a bit too close. “Maybe I should write you a letter too. How about ‘Most Unappreciative Neighbor’?” he replies back as he continues staring at down at you, litteraly since he was tall.

Your laughter faltered slightly, but you brushed it off, thinking he was just joking. “Come on, it’s a joke. Besides, you’re too much of a show-off to be offended. You should appreciate you even got an award." unaware to you, the way your wordered it, as the corners of your mouth raised, actually set something off in him.

His smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of something darker crossing his features. “Oh, I’m not offended. Just… disappointed.” He leaned closer, slightly crouching his shoulders to lean down as his shoulders slump as one hand is on the side of the outline of the door, half in half out so it prevents you from shutting it. His breath warm against your ear in the cold chilly night.

“You should know better than to mess with someone who cares about you.” He replies blanky, as his whole facade drops and he simply stares at you. No expression, no charming smile, no teasing, nothing, his pretty blue orbs just blank.

You blinked, caught off guard by his whole demeanor. “Care about me?” you reply raising an eyebrow then you burst out laughing as you slightly cover your mouth, not trying to be mean but this was actually amusing.

He tilted his head, and the glint in his eye made you shiver, but you brushed it aside with a smile, thinking you had misread his expression. “You’re more than that to me,” he said, the seriousness of his tone finally making you feel a bit uneasy. "So much more." He finishes but you simply continue smiling, trying to be friendly in this situation. Before you could respond, he added, “But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

Now his smile came back as he stops leaning down slightly and instead stand up straight as his eyes atleast aren't blank anymore.

You laughed nervously, backing up a step. “Yeah, sure, just don’t get too attached.” You say as yet once again you are so unaware of Satoru's genuine feelings.

But Satoru didn’t respond with laughter. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance. “Oh, I’m already attached. You don’t get to walk away from this.”

"...Of course you are! I'm just so great!"

You dont know if you said anything wrong because now he hasnt replied and your standing there awkwardly as his arm is still against the edge of the door frame.

"Goodnight Satoru." you begin to break down the awkward silence between you two.

After a few blinks he smiles, but it dosent meet his eyes. Instead he ruffles your head then he says "You should really get those locks checked out, or get more. Its dangerous." he replies as his smile is still there but its more chilling.

You hum as you dismiss him with a wave and shut the door. Something tells you to wait it out, just in case, and you trust your intution. You wait for a little waiting til he leaves as you stand on the other side of the door. He didnt leave right away as he stares at the spot where you just were, where now his eyes meet the door.

Then just like that he walks away. Weirdo.

Another time you invited him over to your house since you date decided to ditch you for no reason! So weird! Satoru luckily found you after you ended the call and offered to cheer you up. So currently you both are watching a movie at your place in silence, he was hesitant to invite you, you didnt know why but you didn't bother asking to not be rude.

"I just wish...you know we were talking for a while and like...I thought things were going well!" you sigh yet exclaim at the same time. Still upset since you thought for once you could pull someone. You can't.

"He sounds like an asshole." Satoru says without a second thought.

You let out a groan mixed with a whine, Satoru glances at you as you then shrink to the couch as whine again annoyed.

"I wish he was like, obsessed or something! I want a guy to be like that! So that he'll never leave me or cheat! is that too much to ask for?" You ask yourself as you put popcorn in your mouth.

Apparently not, since what you wanted was right next to you, without your knowledge.

"Clingy? You into that?" he asks tilting his head as he eyes you- has this man even looked away once? You actually notice and wonder.

You hum in response as for the next few minutes you eat popcorn and the movie's audio plays into the background.

“Clingy?” he repeated again, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. I’ll be right here, always, for you.” He winks, but something tells you hes not joking.

The days passed, and while you continued your innocent banter and petty pranks and sarcastic yet teasing words, Satoru's intensity deepened. He started showing up unexpectedly, always ready to lend a hand or share a laugh. You thought it was endearing, never realizing that he was weaving himself deeper into your life—too deep for your own good. You didn't mind, you never knew why, it was slightly weird but you really couldn't care.

One evening, you found him standing outside your door, arms crossed, a look of mock irritation on his face. “You’re not just going to ignore my last prank, are you?”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What prank? I thought you just liked leaving me little gifts?”

He stepped closer, invading your personal space. “I do like leaving you gifts… but only if you remember who they’re from.”

You felt a teeny shiver run down your spine, but your playful nature pushed you to respond. “Oh, you mean like a restraining order? Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need one." You retort back.

His laughter was rich and dangerous, and he leaned closer, whispering, “You really have no idea how much I care, do you? You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. So, how about we skip the jokes and just enjoy each other’s company?” He says with a lazy smirk gracing his soft lips.

You actually freze, suddenly aware of just how serious he was. But before you could respond, he flashed that charming smile, and all your doubts faded into the background. After all, he was just your neighbor, right? A very huge fucking flirt too.

As you watched him walk away, the hint of something dark lingered in the air. You chuckled to yourself, dismissing the warning signs. “What a weirdo,” you muttered, still blissfully unaware of how deeply tangled you were in his affections.

But little did you know, in Gojo’s eyes, you were already his—forever.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 4

Authors Note: I am personally loving this series, so I really hope you guys are too. Thank you for all the kind words about this series so far. LOVE YOU <33

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : Y/n continues training with the first-years, while Gojo grows increasingly protective of her. In order to become more useful, y/n works hard at developing her cursed energy into a cursed technique. With this development comes more complications with those suspicious of y/n and the forest incident. 

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)

Word Count : 5.1k

Warnings : Seggusal tension increasinggggg, nothing else yet tho hehe.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There was darkness all around, an oppressive weight that felt like it was closing in. 

Your breaths came in short gasps as you ran, feet pounding against the wet earth, but no matter how fast you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was following you. It wasn’t a person—at least, not entirely. 

You were back in the forest.

You stood up, looking over your shoulder to see a man standing behind you. Dark and intense cursed energy oozed from him. You couldn’t breathe, as if there was something blocking your airway. 

Clawing at your throat—gasping for breath—you started running away from the mysterious man. 

Suddenly, your foot caught on something, and you fell hard into the mud. Then, a piercing pain immobilized you—it felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

When finally managed to open your eyes, you saw him again. But a bright light cast a shadow over his face. 

That's when you felt it. 

A dark manifestation of cursed energy. It crackled like electricity, twisting and coiling around your arms, burning through your skin.

You screamed, trying to shake it off, but it only grew stronger, surging through you with a force you couldn’t control. It was inside you, seeping out, and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t stop. 

Your eyes shot open.

You were back in your room at Jujutsu High, breathless and disoriented, heart still pounding in your chest. The nightmare clung to you for a few seconds before dissolving like smoke, leaving behind only the sensation of that cursed energy—the one you still didn’t fully understand. 

You sat up in bed, a cold layer of sweat coating your body. Who was that? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to remember anything from that nightmare. But it all faded away.

It was just a dream—but it felt real.

—

After a night of no sleep, you decided to head out and begin training. Gojo had mentioned he wanted you to begin training early today. Since your flare of cursed energy at the graveyard, you were both somewhat eager to see what else you could do. You had to figure out a way to gain some sort of control over your situation. 

The sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the outdoor training grounds with a soft, golden hue. 

You stood with your feet planted firmly on the dirt of the outdoor arena, eyes closed as you tried to focus. It was early, and the others were allowed to sleep in today because of their work last night on exorcising the curses at the graveyard, so it was just you and Gojo training for the next hour.

“Eventually, your cursed energy will manifest itself into a technique. Which will be the main way you can use it to fight curses.” Gojo explained as he typed something into his phone. 

You nodded, but at your core, you didn’t know if you could do this. 

You could feel his arrogant attitude from where you stood in the training arena. “Try not to blow up the place, alright?”

Rolling your eyes, you had scoffed at him. But, as you stood with cursed energy swirling aimlessly around your fingers, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. 

It was still so unpredictable, and each time you tried to harness it, it either fizzled out or spiralled into chaos. 

You didn’t want to hurt anyone.

“Okay, come on,” you muttered to yourself, taking a deep breath and stretching out your fingers as you centred the energy into your palm. 

The cursed energy crackled like static against your skin, bright blue sparks shimmering along the edges. Your brow furrowed in concentration. But just as quickly as it flared up, the energy dispersed with a soft pop, leaving nothing but a faint tingle in its wake.

“Dammit,” you whispered under your breath. Your frustration beginning to grow.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Gojo’s voice floated over, his footsteps light as he approached. He had a knack for appearing at just the right (or wrong) moment, and it wasn’t surprising to see him standing a few feet away with that infuriatingly calm smile on his face. “Takes time to control it.”

You glanced at him, wiping the sweat off your brow. “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere with it.” 

You had been out here, trying to harness your cursed energy into something useful since sunrise, which must have been hours ago.

“You’re getting somewhere,” Gojo said easily, crossing his arms as his blindfold caught the glint of the sun. 

His voice dropped into that familiar teasing tone. “Besides, it’s not every day I get to see you all frustrated like this. Kind of cute, actually.”

You huffed, feeling a flush creep up your neck at his direct comment. Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you snapped, “You’re annoying, you know that?”

He chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed to reverberate through the air. “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

He had this way of making everything seem effortless, yet there was a deeper, almost imperceptible layer of concern that you couldn’t quite understand. 

You caught him watching you more often now, his usual playful demeanour occasionally replaced by an intense seriousness that made you wonder what he was really thinking.

There were moments, fleeting and unexpected when you found yourself lost in thoughts about him.

His confident smile, the way he casually teased you, and even his serious side, all seemed to draw you in—and there is no denying he has got to be one of the most gorgeous men you’d ever se—What the hell am I thinking about right now, focus!

You quickly brushed these thoughts away, a mix of embarrassment and practicality pushing them to the back of your mind. 

Focus on the training, you reminded yourself. There was enough to worry about without adding complicated feelings into the mix.

The weight of needing to be useful, to prove yourself, was heavier than anything else on your mind right now. 

You took a deep breath, focusing your mind on the cursed energy swirling within you. Concentrate, you told yourself. Control it. Let it become strong.

With renewed determination, you concentrated the energy into your palms.

The familiar blue light began to glow, a vivid hue that seemed to dance around your hands. You lifted your arm, aiming towards the wooden target set up at the other end of the arena.

Gojo watched you intently, his usual smirk replaced by a look of genuine interest. You could feel his gaze on you, a silent encouragement that urged you to push through.

You narrowed your eyes at the target, summoning every ounce of concentration you had.

The cursed energy built up, a palpable force in your hand. When you felt ready, you released it.

A beam of cursed energy shot out from your palm, faster than a snap of your fingers. The beam struck the wooden target with explosive force. 

It shattered into splinters instantaneously, the impact sending debris scattering across the field. Blue flames erupted from the point of impact, scorching the ground and adding a dramatic flair to the display.

You watched with a mix of pride and relief as the target was blown to smithereens, the blue flames sizzling out quickly. The energy buzzed in your hands, a testament to the progress you had made.

“Wow, y/n…” Gojo said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine admiration. You smiled wide at his reaction. 

He walked over to you, playfully clapping his hands. But, your smile immediately fell into a tired frown when he spoke, “That was way stronger than I expected from you. Plus, I thought you’d miss.” 

“Well, aren’t you encouraging.” You replied harshly. “Glad you’re always rooting for me.” You said flatly as you turned away from him, setting yourself up to try again. 

As you caught your breath, still feeling the residual pulse of cursed energy, you heard footsteps approaching. Yuji, Nobara, and Maki—came into view, drawn by the commotion.

Yuji’s eyes widened as he took in the scene, his mouth dropping open in awe. “Whoa! What happened here?”

Nobara’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, her usual teasing demeanor replaced by genuine interest. “Looks like y/n’s been busy. What was that?”

Maki raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “That’s some impressive cursed energy control.”

Gojo took a step back, giving the group a sweeping gesture with a flourish. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present y/n’s newly developed technique. Quite the show, huh?”

Yuji bounded forward, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was amazing, y/n! I knew you had it in you!”

Nobara grinned and clapped her hands together. “Awesome! Now we can really go at you in training. Even Maki’s impressed, and that’s saying something.”

Maki gave you a nod of respect, her usual tough exterior softened by genuine admiration. “Nice work.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the lingering flush of satisfaction. “Just trying to keep up.”

The group continued to chatter, their enthusiasm and encouragement a welcome change from the tension you’d been feeling.

As you joined them, the atmosphere lightened, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax, enjoying the camaraderie of your peers. The fears that were previously stuck in your mind faded away. 

Gojo stayed close, his gaze lingering on you with an unreadable expression. Even amidst the laughter and conversation, there was an air of unspoken understanding between the two of you. 

That morning’s training had revealed more than just a new technique—it revealed that you could help, and that maybe, just maybe, everyone at this school wouldn’t see you as a burden.

—

Later that day, after you had spent hours training and sparring with Megumi and Nobara, you found yourself walking through the corridors of Jujutsu High, still thinking about your nightmare. You remembered that you had seen someone in your dream, but all details were blurred, like a lake on a windy day.

As you turned a corner, you almost collided with Nanami, who was making his way to the principal’s office.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered, stepping aside quickly.

Nanami glanced at you with his usual unreadable expression. “No worries, y/n. My fault.” He gave a small nod of acknowledgment before continuing on his way. 

You watched him go—you didn’t know much about Nanami, but the other students spoke very highly of him. 

Something about the atmosphere around the school felt off today. There was an underlying tension you couldn’t quite place.

Deciding to brush it off for now, you headed back to your room, where Gojo was patiently waiting, leaning against your doorframe. “I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you teased, crossing your arms as you walked down the hall.

He grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’ve been accused of worse things.”

You rolled your eyes. “I need to talk to you.” He looked serious for a moment, something unusual for him. “Okayy…” You responded awkwardly. “What’s up?”

“The higher-ups are paying more attention to you now." He said bluntly, his tone flatter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat, your body tensing at his words. “What do you mean, paying attention to me?”

Gojo let out a soft sigh. “Your cursed energy’s growing stronger. They’ve noticed. And when the higher-ups notice something they can’t explain, they don’t like to just let it slide. It’s quite annoying actually.” He threw his head back a bit in annoyance. “There’s this old bald guy who likes to hold grudges—mostly against me—and you’re my student.” 

You felt a lump form in your throat as his words settled in. The higher-ups were interested in you? 

"So... what does that mean for me?"

Gojo tilted his head a bit. "It means they're getting more suspicious. And if they can't figure you out, they’ll want to dig deeper.”

He hesitated for just a second before his smirk returned, “I gotta start bringing you on every mission. I kind of have a thing against these old folk, so I want to stay in between you and them.” 

You stared at him, your mind spinning. Going on missions with Gojo? The idea felt both thrilling and terrifying, and you weren’t sure if you should feel relieved or even more anxious. "You’re really serious about this?" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Gojo held up a finger and put his other hand on his hip. "Yep! So you should definitely polish up your cursed techniques.” You rolled your eyes at him, but he spoke again before you could respond.

"Don’t forget though, I am the strongest—If the higher-ups want to watch, fine. But they’ll have to do it from a distance."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The idea of being watched, of being tested again—it made your skin crawl. 

But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the strange comfort you felt knowing Gojo would be there.

—

The next day, you found yourself back at the training grounds with the rest of the group. The air felt heavy with the anticipation of something unspoken, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. Megumi and Yuji were already stretching out, and Nobara was talking loudly about some new shoes she had bought. 

Gojo was already there when you arrived, leaning against a tree with his usual lazy grin, but his posture was more rigid than usual. Something was clearly on his mind.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Gojo’s voice broke through the chatter, and the group gathered around, exchanging glances.

“Today’s focus is control.” Gojo’s smile widened as his eyes flicked to you, the challenge clear. 

“We’re going to see just how well y/n can manage her cursed energy while under pressure. And by pressure, I mean you guys.” He flashed a pair of finger guns towards you and the others. 

Your heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that you had struggled with control until recently, and Gojo had been pushing you harder lately. 

As the sparring matches began, you found yourself paired with Nobara. Her cursed tools were sharp and precise, and you knew she wouldn’t hold back. 

You summoned your cursed energy, focusing it into your palms. You had yet to figure out any way to use your cursed energy defensively, only on the offence. 

She was too quick for you—you couldn’t load up your technique, just dodge her nails. 

“Fuck,” You breathed, sweat now dripping down your forehead. 

You managed to get a single strike aimed in her direction. She blocked it, although not with ease. 

Quickly after this, Nobara lunged at you, and you couldn’t dodge it. You lifted a single hand in font of your face to block her, and a shimmering barrier of cursed energy appeared in front of you, freezing Nobara in the air. It held up for a few seconds but then broke apart—Nobara falling in front of you. 

“You’re getting better,” Nobara said, a grin pulling at her lips, as she stood up. “But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to beat me.”

You smirked, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. “Oh, I plan to.”

For the next several minutes, the two of you exchanged blows, your cursed energy crackling and swirling around you. 

Each time Nobara attacked, you deflected with that shimmery barrier you created, feeling more in control of your abilities than ever before. 

But with each success came a growing sense of unease. 

The cursed energy wasn’t just responding to you—it was almost like it had a mind of its own, reacting to your emotions, amplifying with each surge of frustration or excitement.

From his vantage point, Gojo observed you with a mixture of amusement and admiration. It was impossible not to be drawn to the way you approached your training—there was a fierce determination in your eyes that spoke volumes. 

But it wasn’t just your training that captured his attention. There were moments, fleeting and unguarded, when you flashed him a smile—an expression of triumph or frustration. Those smiles, so rare and genuine, had a way of lighting up your face and sending a jolt of warmth through him. 

Sometimes, when you spoke to him, your voice had a certain edge that made his pulse quicken—a mix of sass and sincerity that he found both endearing and electrifying.

The way you carried yourself—your smile, your eyes, your voice—had an effect on him that went beyond mere admiration. 

Just as you were about to launch another attack, Gojo’s voice cut through the air.

“That’s enough.”

You and Nobara stopped, both panting heavily. You glanced over at Gojo, who had his arms crossed, his blindfold covering his eyes but not hiding the fact that he had been watching you intently the entire time.

Before you could respond, Yaga appeared at the edge of the training grounds, his face as stern as ever.

The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted. He hadn’t been around much since you’d arrived at Jujutsu High, but whenever he did show up, it was usually for something serious.

“Gojo, a word?” Yaga said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Gojo sighed, his usual lighthearted demeanour slipping. “Go on without me,” he said to the group, and then to you specifically, “Try not to burn the place down.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tightness in your chest remained as you watched Gojo and Yaga disappear into the main building.

Nobara nudged you lightly, breaking you from your thoughts. “What do you think that’s about?” she asked, her voice casual but her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You shrugged, trying to play it off, though your heart raced with unease. “Who knows? Maybe they’re finally realizing how much of a pain Gojo is,” you joked, earning a loud laugh from Nobara, though your attempt at humour fell flat to your own ears.

—

Meanwhile, inside the main building, Gojo leaned casually against the wall, his blindfold still firmly in place, arms crossed in a posture that suggested nonchalance. “So, what’s so urgent, Yaga? You interrupt my valuable instructor time?” Gojo quipped, though his tone lacked its usual lightness.

Yaga didn’t bite on Gojo’s attempt at humour. His face was grave as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. “There’s been word of a new curse user. Someone powerful. Too powerful to go unnoticed for long.”

Gojo straightened up slightly, sensing the shift in tone. “And?”

“And the higher-ups—specifically Gakuganji—are starting to grow suspicious,” Yaga continued. “They think this curse user might be connected to y/n.”

At this, Gojo’s easygoing facade cracked. His posture stiffened, and a dangerous gleam appeared behind his blindfold. “Those idiots think y/n’s involved? Based on what?”

Yaga sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know how they are. Always looking for someone to blame. Her cursed energy’s been growing steadily, and they can’t make sense of it. Then, suddenly, this curse user appears on the radar, causing havoc—Gakuganji’s convinced there’s a link.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, processing the information. His fingers twitched by his sides, itching for action, for a way to cut through the bureaucracy and protect you. “Y/n has nothing to do with this curse user,” he said, his voice hard and certain. “You know that, and I know that.”

“But Gakuganji doesn’t,” Yaga countered. “He’s old, set in his ways. He’s convinced himself that there’s something wrong with her. The more her cursed energy grows, the more paranoid he gets.”

Gojo clenched his jaw, frustrated but not surprised. “What’s the plan, then? Are they going to monitor her, restrict her movements? Or do they want to go further?”

Yaga frowned, folding his arms. “They haven’t made a decision yet, but it’s clear Gakuganji wants answers. He’s pushing for a formal investigation. If he can convince the other higher-ups, it won’t be long before they take action.”

Gojo’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “And by ‘investigation,’ you mean dragging her into their games, pushing her until something breaks.”

“Exactly,” Yaga said grimly. “They’re not going to let this go. And if this curse user causes more damage, they’ll be looking for someone to pin it on.”

Gojo’s eyes darkened behind his blindfold. His protective instincts surged as he thought of you, how unaware you were of the storm brewing around you. He wouldn’t let them touch you—not when he could do something about it.

“So what do we do?” Gojo asked, his tone dropping, serious.

Yaga glanced at him, the unspoken weight of the question hanging between them. “I trust you, Gojo, but you need to be careful. You’re the only thing standing between y/n and Gakuganji right now. If he gets too suspicious, even you might not be able to stop them from acting.”

Gojo scoffed at Yagas statement. “Yeah right. Not even that old man could stop me, you know that too.” He pushed off the wall, his posture shifting back into the easygoing persona he used like armour.

—

After training, you were left feeling restless. The sparring match with Nobara had gone well, but the growing power inside you felt unsettling. You needed to clear your head, and sitting still wasn’t an option. 

The sun had just set, and you were wandering the grounds, the quiet evening air a welcome distraction from the many issues swirling in your mind. But just as you rounded a corner near the principal’s office, you caught sight of Gojo and Nanami standing just outside, their voices hushed but intense.

“I don’t trust the higher-ups on this,” Gojo was saying, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “There’s more going on here than they’re letting on.”

Nanami frowned, his arms crossed. “And what do you plan to do? Defy them openly?”

Gojo shrugged, though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your heart raced as you ducked behind a nearby wall, straining to hear more.

“They want her under observation,” Nanami continued, his voice low but firm. “There are too many unanswered questions about her cursed energy. If they find something they don’t like, it won’t end well.”

Gojo’s voice dropped even lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s why I’m keeping her close. I’m not letting them pull any stunts.”

Nanami was quiet for a moment before responding, “Just be careful. If you go too far, you’ll be putting both of you at risk.”

Gojo let out a soft chuckle, though there was no real humour in it. “Since when am I not careful?”

Nanami shot him a pointed look, and Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep it subtle. So serious, Nanami.” And with that, you heard one set of footsteps leave, trailing down the hall.

You pressed your back against the wall, your mind racing. The higher-ups were investigating you? And Gojo—he was protecting you from them?

You weren’t sure what to think. 

The idea that the higher-ups were interested in your cursed energy wasn’t surprising, but the fact that Gojo was actively shielding you from them sent a whirlwind of emotions through you.

Before you could process any further, Gojo’s voice floated through the air again, this time with that familiar teasing lilt. “You can come out now, y/n.”

Shit.

Your heart nearly stopped. How had he known?

Reluctantly, you stepped out from behind the wall, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flush creeping onto your cheeks. “I wasn’t eavesdropping!” you said quickly, though the weak defense only made your face heat up further.

Gojo’s smirk was pure mischief as he slid his hands into his pockets, his movements leisurely and deliberate. “Oh? Then what were you doing?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat as Gojo stopped right in front of you.

He towered over you, his presence was overwhelming in the dim light. With one finger he held his blindfold up slightly to reveal those sharp, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about this stuff?” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. The way he spoke made your pulse quicken.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted, his tone lighter but still firm, with an edge that made your stomach flutter. “And you’re overthinking it.”

His proximity was intoxicating. 

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath so close that it made your heart race. The way he looked at you, so intensely and with that hint of a smirk, made you lose your train of thought.

Every glance, every touch, every teasing comment he made set your nerves on fire. But you tried to keep your composure. 

“I just want to know what’s going on,” you said quietly, your voice betraying the emotional turbulence you felt. “Why are they so interested in me?”

Gojo’s expression shifted, and for a brief moment, the playful facade dropped.

He took another step closer, you felt his breath on the top of your head as he spoke, “Because they don’t trust you. 

You felt your breath hitch at the closeness, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Okay, and why are you so involved?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions surging through you.

Gojo tilted his head, his lips curling into a teasing smirk as he gazed down at you, his voice low and almost intimate. "Do I need a reason to be involved?" he murmured, the weight of his words making your chest tighten.

Your pulse quickened as you searched his face, trying to decipher the meaning behind that statement.

He always did this—danced around the edges of something deeper, leaving you guessing, wondering if there was more to his teasing than just playful banter. 

But right now, with his proximity overwhelming your senses, it felt different. More intense.

“I think you owe me one,” you whispered firmly, trying to keep your voice steady, though the closeness made it nearly impossible. “A real answer.”

Gojo’s smirk faded slightly, his expression shifting into something more serious, something that sent a wave of heat straight through you. 

His hand brushed the side of your arm as he lifted his hand up to hold the back of his neck, his fingers lingering just long enough to send a spark through your skin.

“Maybe I’m just keeping an eye on what’s mine,” he said softly, his tone both possessive and protective.

Your breath hitched at his words. What the hell was he talking about? His?

There was an unmistakable electricity between the two of you—a pull you couldn't resist, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yours?” you breathed, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, his smirk returning with a new lightheartedness to it.

And suddenly the moment was gone—“Yeah, my student!” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, the sudden shift in his tone turning all the heat that had built up into sheer frustration.

Gojo saw your face and let out a loud chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he took step back. “Ha! for a minute I thought you were coming onto me there, y/n.” 

His teasing grin was back in full force, and you hated how easily he could do that—toss you from one emotional extreme to another like it was nothing. 

"Oh god, you're insufferable," you muttered, dramatically rolling your eyes and putting your hands on your hips. You were annoyed at him, but it was hard to stay that way when he looked so damn amused.

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he was waiting for you to react exactly how you did. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” He chuckled.

“Whatever, you’re a weird guy, you know that?” You said, although you couldnt help the smile that was creeping onto your face.

Before he could say anything else, you turned away and began to walk in the direction of your dorm room, a knowing smile formed on your lips. “Goodnight, Saturo.” You said; your voice was soft as you waved before turning the corner. 

Gojo stood there, frozen in place as your words echoed in his mind.

Satoru.

The sound of his name on your lips stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t quite define. It was the first time he had heard his name said in such a tone since—since his best friend. 

But from you, it felt different—intimate in a way that unsettled him. His name had never sounded so soft, so gentle, and for a brief moment, he wondered how many other times you’d said it in your head, the way it had rolled so naturally off your tongue just now.

He blinked, the usual playful smirk faltering on his lips as a strange warmth spread through his chest that he couldn’t suppress. 

He could feel his heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years, the steady rhythm skipping just slightly out of sync. What was that? 

His hand twitched at his side, tempted to reach out after you, to call you back, but he hesitated.

What the hell are you doing, Satoru? He thought to himself, shaking his head as if to clear the strange, fluttering feeling in his chest.

Gojo prided himself on being untouchable—in more ways than one. 

No one could get close enough to affect him, emotionally or otherwise, but somehow, without even trying, you were doing just that. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair and letting out a low chuckle to himself.

“Damn, you really are something else,” he muttered, staring at the spot where you had just disappeared from view.

There was no denying it now—you had managed to slip past the barriers he had built, and the realization unsettled him. His mind raced through the conversations, the subtle moments, the looks shared between you two.

And now, something as simple as you saying his name had thrown him completely off balance.

Your voice continued to echo in his ears—Satoru—soft and lingering. 

Finally, he turned on his heel, heading toward his own quarters, though his mind was anything but settled.

His thoughts kept circling back to you—to the way you’d looked at him before you left, the way your lips had curved into that soft, knowing smile.

He cursed under his breath.

This was getting dangerous. Not because of the higher-ups, not because of the curses or the investigations, but because of you. 

You were becoming a distraction—a very dangerous, very tempting distraction.

[d1xonss]

Older | Part 2

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.7k

AN ~ Ask and you shall receive:)) I also made sure to tag a few people that seemed to really like the last one! ps- This is my first time ever attempting to write actual smut so it's safe to say I am extremely nervous to put this out there. Writing smut vs reading smut are very two different things I've come to find out lol. But I hope it's good enough and I hope you guys like it!

(Make sure to read part 1 first if you haven’t already!!)

The night before had been a whirlwind of different emotions. Something you weren’t totally expecting. But it happened. He was practically begging you, seconds from getting down on his knees to plead. But then you were unexpectedly dragged away from the whole interaction, and you hadn’t seen him since.

It was a lot to take in. Though at the same time it really wasn’t. You had what you wanted now laying in the palm of your hand, all you really had to do now was act on it. He expressed how he felt about you, told you just how much he wanted you just as you wanted him, you heard everything you wanted to hear. And in your mind, you didn’t want to drag it out any further than you already had. Because you had to admit, you found yourself growing just as desperate as he was at just the mere thought of him. The thought of him beneath you, panting and groaning, it was getting you all worked up as you daydreamed about it. But it didn’t have to be a daydream, not anymore.

You didn’t know what you completely planned to do yet, but a thought crossed your mind about inviting him over to your house, maybe for dinner. The setting would be perfect, the timing would be perfect, and you knew that he would be perfect. It was really all about finding him now to ask him officially, to which you knew he would say yes. But you also slowly realized that you had absolutely nothing left in your house to cook. So you decided to make a quick trip down to the pantry, to pick up just a few simple things as you went over in your head over the options you could make.

Though unbeknownst to you, Daryl was pacing around in his own home, thinking wildly about the whole interaction just a few hours prior. The things he said, the way he sounded. He felt like such an idiot now, knowing that the whole thing was pretty much ruined ever since Carol took you by the arm and away from him. Practically hogging you for the entire rest of the night. He didn’t know how to fix this, but what seemed to be worrying him the most was he didn’t exactly know whether or not you were going to agree. It was hard to tell in the moment, but thinking back on it now, it really could’ve gone either way in his mind.

But suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks as movement outside his window seemed to catch his attention. It was you. Making your way down the streets and heading straight for the pantry it seemed like. He stood frozen for what felt like hours, thinking over how he should approach it, or if he should even approach it at all. The thoughts clouding his mind were enough to make his head spin, but ultimately the older man did know what he wanted. You knew what he wanted. He just confessed every little thing last night, he figured now the least he could do now was talk to you about it.

So with that, he rushed out of his house in hopes of catching you before you had a chance to leave the building, hoping that the pantry itself was free of anyone else so he could speak with you privately. His steps were fast and heavy, his worn boots slapping on the concrete with how fast he appeared to move. In just a split second he was already at the front door, opening it a bit quietly to peer inside, seeing your back facing him as you picked through the food, taking note that there was no one else around.

He stepped in the space as silently as he could, approaching you almost with caution it seemed like as he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you. Though the man couldn’t see your face, a smirk was playing on your lips as you knew of his presence the moment he stepped through the door. For a hunter he sure was awfully loud, but perhaps he was just so nervous he didn’t even know how loud he was being.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

The man froze right where he was at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening once he realized how easily you had caught him. He still couldn’t take his eyes off of your however even if you claimed it wasn’t respectful, watching as you turned around to face him with a warm and sweet smile as you always did.

“Hi Daryl.”

His heart jumped a little at you using his name the way you were, hearing your voice alone was enough to bring a small smile to his face as he looked at you, “Hey.”

He watched as you approached him further, standing in front of him now as you tilted your head a little in question, “What brings you down here?” you asked, your tone clear and knowing.

He felt like he had just been caught once more, knowing that you might’ve figured out that he had come down here just to see you, talk to you. He decided now he had to come up with some sort of lie to get him out of his tension, to make it seem like the situation was all in your head. “I just…uh…I was just comin down for some stuff m’ runnin low on back at the house.” he said almost confidently.

Your face then dropped a little at his answer, though you knew he was lying, you decided to play into it, “Oh…you mean you didn’t come all this way to see me?”

His eyes widened a little upon seeing the hurt look you had on your face, “N-No, I-...I mean…” he trailed off with a sigh, wondering how the hell he managed to already fuck this up when he had been down here with you for about thirty seconds. “I…I did.” he finally admitted.

A slow smirk was brought to your face at his sudden switch in honesty, “I know.” you teased, brushing past him lightly to look at the vegetables just behind him.

The man felt his cheeks heat up drastically, not only that you knew the real reason he came down here to begin with, but the way you barely brushed up against him as you passed. This whole thing was nearly torture at this point as he groaned a little to himself, turning to look at you again.

“God damn it woman…” he said as he moved up next to you, “Yer killing me, ya know that?”

He heard you hum a little to yourself as your eyes never moved away from the plethora of food in front of you as you scanned through them, “Am I?” you asked, your tone coming out almost innocent.

Daryl found himself swallowing thickly as he shook his head, “Yes…ya really are.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement as you finished putting a few things in some kind of woven basket around your arm, before turning to fully face him, “It’s still wrong you know…” you said obviously.

When he hears you state the lone and knowing fact, he can’t help but silently agree. He knew how wrong it was, even without you having to remind him he was well aware of the situation he was placed in. The age difference was big, you were still so much younger than he was and he knew that his lingering thoughts about you were very wrong. But if it was so wrong, then how come he still wanted you? So badly.

He then huffed a little at your statement, “Yeah…it’s still wrong. What if…what if we got caught or some shit? I know it’s all…too risky. And…we’d probably feel guilty if anyone found out about it, right?”

You nodded along to everything he was saying, “...Right.”

But even after saying all that, clarifying how bad this all was to even consider it, a part of him still didn’t care. He laid everything out before you, he had already admitted everything and all the two of you had talked about thus far was everything negative about the situation. That wasn’t what he wanted, and surely it couldn’t have been what you wanted either. Though he couldn’t read your mind, he couldn’t just ignore the slightly disappointed look on your face at the conclusion you assumed you both came to.

“...But…” he started, not knowing how to word exactly what he was feeling.

Your interest piqued however, wanting him to say it, “But?”

His eyes meet your with a mixture of softness and hunger, stepping forward a bit as his confidence took over him so suddenly, “But I don’t give a fuck about how wrong it is. If ya really wanna know how I see it…to me it feels like the only right thing in the whole damn world.”

You felt as if your heart stilled, actually wondering to yourself if any of this was even real. You had been practically dreaming of this moment for years, craving and wanting him so badly for what felt like decades. And now it was unfolding right before your very eyes. For some reason, this statement alone had you sold, not needing to hear another word to know how much he truly wanted this. Last night he almost looked filled with lust and would say just about anything for you to give in. But this right here was different. A determination of some kind that you hadn’t seen from him before.

You were silent for a long moment as you collected your thoughts, worrying the older man slightly as the two of you stood there facing each other awkwardly. That is until your face broke out into a smile, tilting your head a bit at him as you finally spoke.

“Are you free tonight?”

Daryl’s mouth parted a bit in shock as he blinked a few times in utter disbelief, questioning to himself if he even heard you right at all. But all he could do in that moment was nod his head, finding his mouth completely dry as he didn’t even want to attempt to speak.

“Good.” you smirked before gesturing down to what was in your hands, “I’m making dinner. I think it would be nice for you to join me so we could…discuss this some more.”

His head bobbed up and down frantically, his ears turning red at the thought of spending the evening with you, talking about what desperately needed to be considered.

You couldn’t help but smile again at the fact that he hadn’t uttered a word, “Perfect. Come over around seven, yeah?” you said before walking around him towards the exit, heading out the door and down the street to prepare everything, a little pep in your step as you walked.

The man however was rendered completely speechless, standing there frozen like a goddamn statue as if he couldn’t believe that actually happened. But he didn’t want to question it, linger on it for very long before he was suddenly smiling widely to himself, snapping out of whatever trance he was put in to get ready himself. Though he was growing so anxious he hardly couldn’t wait until seven at all, part of him just wanting to go back to your house to spend as much time with you as he could. But he didn’t want to push it. You called the shots. And he would be there at seven.

However the set time could not come soon enough. For the both of you. The remainder of the day just slowly passed by as the seconds dragged on and on for what felt like an entire lifetime. You at least had something to keep you busy, tidying up your house and cooking the dinner you promised as you waited for him to arrive. But he, however, had absolutely nothing to pass the time. He couldn’t go hunting, it was already growing too late for that. There were no patrols for him to get done as every shift was assigned to someone else for the day. 

So he was left sitting there with his racing thoughts. It was both a good and a bad thing he found. Good because he could plan what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do, think over how the night would play out just by the suggestive tone you used when you invited him to begin with. But bad because his mind was stuck wandering to the sinful images of you. How badly he wanted you now, how long it felt like he had been waiting. It was like an eternity, but he found that he would wait centuries for you if it meant you would give into him completely. Anything to just have you.

At seven on the dot, he was on your front step, giving the door a firm knock as he waited patiently for you to answer and let him in. You found yourself smiling as your eyes glanced up to the clock you had on the wall, seemingly impressed that he was here right on time. Though you could almost sense how anxious he was from the moment you left him in the pantry earlier, silently knowing he was just itching to get over here.

You then moved through your house to the front door, finally pulling it open to reveal him in all his glory. But you swallowed a bit thickly taking in what he was wearing. The older boots and black jeans he had on were nothing really new as you had seen him wear those countless times before. It was the dark navy blue button up shirt he had on that caught your attention, the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows and a few of the top buttons already undone to expose just the beginning of his chest. You could practically feel your mouth watering already and it wasn’t even time for dessert yet.

He however was feeling the same exact way. His eyes trailed over your body, almost in awe as he saw the little black dress you were wearing before him. The straps that sat on your shoulders were a little ruffled and the length of the dress itself was perfect to him, seeing it come up to about your mid thigh. Your hair was perfect as it sat just above your chest, neat and put together as always yet there was something more about it that seemed to catch his eye. You were absolutely glowing, and he couldn’t help the wide smile he gave you the second you opened the door.

“Wow…right on time. I’m impressed.” you said almost proudly.

He chuckled a little as his head ducked down for a moment, “Yeah, well, I guess I was too excited to wait any longer.” he said honestly.

You smirked at him, “Eager aren’t you?” you couldn’t help but tease as you send him a small wink, before opening the door a bit wider and nodding for him to come inside, “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He sucked in a small breath after you winked toward him, already beginning to sweat a little as his nerves were getting to him. Though he quickly stepped inside as you wished, scanning around your house absentmindedly as if he had to somehow distract himself from how nervous he truly was. But just seeing you in that dress alone was enough to send a rush of heat right through him.

“Let me get you something to drink.” your voice spoke sweetly, heading back in towards the kitchen.

The man was quick to follow your lead as you walked, watching how your hips swayed effortlessly back and forth, nearly hypnotizing him. He couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose or not, but damn it was really working as he felt himself seemingly get hotter the more he stared. The smell that hit his nose when he entered the kitchen was also incredible however, his eyes moving over to the pot you had over the stove as it was just about done according to you.

You stopped in front of the fridge as you quickly pulled out a bottle of wine, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small smile, “Actually would you mind opening this for me? I just so happen to need a big strong guy to help me.” you flirted.

His eyes fluttered the smallest bit, finding himself nodding immediately as he would help with any little thing you needed from him, “Course…I got ya.” he said as he took it from your hands, finding a bottle opener to get the cork out with a small “pop” before offering to pour it into a few glasses for you as well.

After maneuvering around the kitchen for a moment as the silence shared between you was comfortable, you set the table up with two bowls of soup you had made on either end, while he seemed to wordlessly follow behind you to hand you one of the glasses he had poured. You thanked him quietly, brushing your fingertips against his hand purposefully as you took it from him, before moving over to take a seat. The man let out a small breath at even a sliver of your touch, but snapped out of it quickly as he saw you move to sit down, blinking rapidly as he did the same right across from you.

The silence had grown much thicker now, not being able to avoid what was quite literally sitting in front of either of you. It was so quiet you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop, the tension that now filled the remaining air was growing to be unbearable. The two of you were alone now, out of the public eye and in the privacy of your own home, even you had to admit it was hard to keep yourself together as he kept looking at you a certain way. But you wanted to talk, so you forced yourself to take a breath and just…wait. Though it honestly surprised you that he was the one to break the silence.

“So…discuss things…what exactly did ya mean by that?” he asked as he took a spoonful of soup into his mouth, his eyes never moving away from you as he did so.

You knew how eager he was too, it was written all over his face, and even with the way he slightly shifted in his seat you could tell. But in a certain sense, it brought you a bit of relief knowing that he was just as needy as you were.

You found yourself stirring the soup in front of you absentmindedly as you took your time with your response, “I wanted to talk about last night.”

He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he took a long drink of his wine, swallowing it thickly before responding, “Last night…what about it?”

A small and gentle laugh escaped you at even the mere thought of it, “...How desperate you were.” you stated a bit bluntly, completely changing the atmosphere around you.

Daryl’s face suddenly became a bit flushed with a little embarrassment after you stated the obvious so casually. He almost felt stupid now as his eyes now ducked down to look at the table, noticing your pretty floral tablecloth instead of acknowledging how he completely broke down right in front of you so easily the night prior.

But you wanted to see his eyes, not wanting him to be embarrassed by any of it, “Look at me.” you gently said to get his attention.

Hearing your voice say that command, yet it came out so sweet, he slowly glanced back up toward you. He almost began to feel ashamed, but seeing a glimpse of your face for a split second, told him he shouldn’t be.

“I liked it.”

His entire body seemed to shiver slightly just the mere way you admitted such a thing. He felt himself crumbling all over again, his desperation for you growing further the longer he sat there hearing and stewing over your words. You looked so devious yet so innocent when you spoke, it was almost too unreal to him.

“Really..?” he asked with a breath, almost wanting to hear you say it again as he felt his heart thump even faster than it had been before.

You nodded slowly in response, your eyes narrowing slightly the longer you looked at him, “But I have to know one thing.”

The man quite literally was sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited for you to continue, willing to give you whatever answer you wanted. “Did you mean everything you said?” you asked quietly.

It might’ve been a stupid question to ask, sure. But you needed to be absolutely certain about all of this, needing to know that this wasn’t just going to be the two of you fooling around. You wanted to make sure his feelings for you were real, that he actually cared about you. Because you knew the things you wanted to do next, there would be no going back from it.

He had to admit he was a little thrown off by your question, yet it was a completely valid one to have. And he didn’t have to worry about sounding convincing or needing to play something off. Because his answer was nothing but the truth.

“Yeah…I did.” he said with a firm nod.

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest hearing how sincere he was with such a simple answer, the only answer you ever wanted or needed to hear. It slid so effortlessly off his tongue that you believed him completely, feeling your breathing pick up just the smallest bit at the returning thoughts of something happening between the two of you.

But to your surprise again, he continued.

“And…before ya say somethin again bout how…it’s wrong for us ta do somethin like this…together.” he trailed off for a moment, almost trying to collect his thoughts, “It might be wrong…but…it just feels…so right.” he said with a heavy breath.

That was it. That right there, was all you needed to hear.

You suddenly got up from out of your seat, watching his eyes widen a little at your movements as he stayed frozen in place where he sat, seeing you come to stand right in front of him. Your body now hovered between the table and his chair as you stood right above him, seeing him gulp a little bit in anticipation. Your hands then came up to move softly across his shoulders, feeling the material of his shirt under your fingers. He let out a soft breath at your touch, looking up at you as if silently begging you to do more, his desire building and resurfacing.

“If we were to do this…it would be a secret…right?” you asked barely above a whisper, your tone sending goosebumps on his skin.

He opened his mouth to answer, before suddenly feeling your hands move up to either side of his neck, swallowing thickly at the new feeling. His mind raced for a moment before he tried desperately to stay focused, even though it felt at this point that you were trying to kill him.

“Right…” he sighed, feeling his breath feather across your face with how close you were to him now, “It would just be our little secret…”

“No one else has to know…yeah?” you asked again as your touch only became more addicting to him.

He nodded frantically again as he felt his skin getting warmer with each passing second, “No one…no one else has to know…just us…”

You smiled at his confirmation, seeing his body nearly quivering at just your hands lingering on the side of his neck, finally decided to not make him wait any longer for your answer. “Okay.” you nodded, moving your hands to caress the sides of his face.

The older man let out a quiet groan at the feeling of your soft hands moving against the light stubble on his cheeks, his jaw, his heart completely racing out of his chest with how close you had become. “God…don’t make this harder than it already is.” he let out a breathy laugh.

You smirked to yourself as you obviously watched him squirm, “But that’s what makes it fun.” you flirted as you tilted your head a bit to the side.

He sighed again deeply as you just seemed to continue to torment him to no end, though he liked it, he wanted more. “Such a tease…” he muttered under his breath.

“Maybe…” you whispered softly with a growing smile, your thumb moving over to trail over his bottom lip, practically dangling a carrot in front of his face. “What do you want?”

He was so clearly struggling to stay still in his seat, fidgeting around restlessly as you still found a way to drag this to a point of pure desperation. His chest heaved and his skin was now not only hot, but felt as if it were on fire. All he wanted was to pull you on top of him and finally end this constant teasing, but he refrained, knowing that all he had to do was be patient. Because even though you were good at hiding it, he could see right through you too, seeing how eager you looked before him.

His mouth parted as he licked his lips, “I want you…I want you so fucking bad…” he spoke quietly, trying to hold still.

Your smirk only grew the longer you looked at him, “What’s the magic word?” you teased again, absolutely loving this sight below you as you could hardly contain yourself.

Daryl felt himself getting even more turned on, aroused at how you continued to play with him even in the last lingering moments. He had completely fallen apart for you again, and he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

“P-Please.” he finally begged, “I need ya…please.”

With that single word alone, you finally caved, lowering yourself down to straddle him as you sat yourself on his lap, your faces even closer than before. He trembled beneath you in anticipation, feeling him getting hard in his jeans the longer you stalled, only proving he secretly adored what you did to him entirely. But it only grew to a point where you couldn’t wait any longer as you finally crashed your lips against his, a euphoric feeling washing over the both of you.

The older man groaned loudly into your mouth as you finally did what he so desperately needed, wrapping his arms around you to press your body even closer to his. Your hands went back to the sides of his neck as his lips began to urgently massage yours, his hands trailing down to grip your hips tightly as you practically rocked against him. You drank each other in, in every possible way as you felt his tongue slowly push past your parted lips, easily slipping inside to explore every inch of your mouth.

You hummed in approval as your hands trailed down to his chest, your delicate touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him, feeling as though it was all washing over him like some sort of tidal wave. His muscles twitched a little at the feeling, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he only pulled you in further as if you weren’t close enough, one of his hands moving to cradle the back of your head. You felt his other hand move down further to squeeze your ass gently, sending a surprised gasp from your lips that turned into a quiet sigh.

You both had waited too long for this, getting more antsy with each passing second as the two of you grew even more eager than before if that was even possible.

He pulled away from your reddened lips suddenly, his mouth trailing across your cheek to leave light and delicate pecks across your skin, traveling down towards the skin on the side of your neck. He sucked, licked, and nibbled lightly across the softness of your flesh hurriedly as he searched for that one specific spot, the one spot he knew would surely send you over the edge. Eventually his lips brushed over the skin just beneath your ear, hearing a small gasp from you as he smirked to himself. There it is. The man then paid extra attention to that one spot, sucking on it lightly until you let out a soft moan at his actions, gripping his shoulders tightly as you involuntarily rocked against his hips.

That action alone made him lose all self control as he grunted from the impact, lifting you up in his grasp as he suddenly stood to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that his legs were shaking. You squealed lightly in surprise by his sudden movements, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you feared you might fall as your legs tightened around his waist. But he would never drop you. Never.

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes blown with lust as his mouth parted to speak, but you cut him off before he even got the chance. “Upstairs on your right.”

His eyes widened the smallest bit as you were able to tell him without him having to ask, chuckling to himself as he placed a few more light kisses on your neck before carrying you up the steps. The man moved at a rapid speed, causing you to hold on tighter as you laughed at his actions, hearing him kick open the door before you were suddenly laid down on the soft mattress. He continued to hover over you, taking in the closeness as much as he could as you gently brought him in to kiss him again, pecking his lips over and over as he chuckled at your affection.

“God, you’re so perfect.” he whispered against your lips, his hand slowly moving up to your breast, squeezing it lightly as his mouth hovered back down toward your neck.

You moaned a little at the feeling, your cheek pressed against his head as your breathing only picked up when he got just the smallest bit rougher. His movements were spurring you on even more as your hands moved towards the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one as quickly as you could.

He chuckled against your skin as he pulled back to look at you with a raised brow, “Eager?” he asked simply with a smirk.

You huffed, “Shut up.” your words came out in a breath, pushing him back a bit as your hands glided over his shoulders, removing the fabric from the upper part of his body. 

He let you do whatever you wanted to him as he sat up a bit on his knees, helping you a little as he fully discarded his shirt onto the ground. You couldn’t help but stare at him a little in awe, his toned chest and arms being fully exposed to you for the first time was something you would surely have to memorize. Your eyes trailed over every part of his skin, even reaching out a little to run your fingers across his chest, sending another shiver of pleasure down his spine as you did so.

Though he couldn’t help but laugh quietly as your eyes were glued to him, “Ya want me to get a camera for ya?” he asked teasingly as he tilted his head a bit.

You let out a breath, “Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled again, leaning down to peck your lips a few times as his hands traveled down towards the hem of your dress, pulling back the smallest bit to look you in the eyes as if he was silently waiting for permission. That alone caused you to want him even more, nodding your head frantically as you raised your arms, feeling him pull the material up and over your head in one swift motion. You then laid there in nothing but a bra and underwear, his eyes trailing over every part of your skin as his pupils grew drastically.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath as his mouth dove back in towards your neck, earning you letting out a sound of surprise as you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you closed your eyes at the feeling he provided.

His tongue dragged down the side of your neck, traveling down to your collarbone as he nipped at the area lightly. The feeling of his mouth alone caused a small whimper to escape your lips, only imagining how everything else would feel as he took his time with you. A part of him wanted to savor every moment, cherish it as he had been waiting so long for this to unfold. But another part of him wanted to take you right here right now, practically growling at the thought of you squeezing around his dick. But he did know one thing. He wanted to take care of you first, taste you on his tongue, hear your screams and pleas.

He felt he couldn’t wait any longer as his mind ran, quickly moving his hands to the back of your bra, fumbling with it a bit as it caused you to laugh to yourself a bit as he struggled. He grunted and lowered his mouth to your shoulder to bite you teasingly at your amusement, finally getting it undone and pulling it off of you completely.

You felt the cold air hit your breasts, almost shivering at the feeling as you breathed deeply, but it didn’t last for long as you then felt his hot breath hovering over them. Before you even had a chance to process his next actions, he softly took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the flesh as his hand came up to massage the other.

You let out a breathy moan at the feeling, your head falling back against the pillow as his mouth worked wonders against you. You were so sensitive already, feeling yourself get wetter the longer his tongue was all over you. It almost felt like a dream to you, that all of this was happening so fast. But with the blissful feeling he gave you, you knew it was far from a dream.

His mouth then broke away from your breasts, his tongue trailing down your stomach almost frustratingly slow before he reached the top of your clothed pussy. You felt his lips delicately place a kiss against you, causing you to let out a soft gasp at the feeling, your eyes lightly fluttering.

He then looked up at you again, “You okay?” he asked softly, not wanting to mess anything up. The last thing he wanted was to be too rough with you or do something you weren’t ready for, wanting to make sure you were still okay. But what he wasn’t aware of was your racing thoughts, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck you right now.

“Yes.” you sighed heavily, “Please…do whatever you want to me.” you breathed as you looked down at him, your expression heavy and desperate.

Seeing this made his worries beforehand suddenly vanish, a new hungry feeling washing over him as a smirk was brought to his face. He then didn’t hesitate to take the waistband of your thong and pull it down your legs, tossing it behind him carelessly as he slowly began to lower himself onto his stomach. The action alone excited you greatly, letting him softly move your thighs open and rest them on the tops of his shoulders, a heat already pooling in your stomach. He saw your wetness glistening even in the darkened room, finally leaning his head down to press a gentle kiss on your clit.

Your mouth fell open at just the littlest feeling, leaning your head back on the pillow as you sucked in a harsh breath. His gaze moved back up to your face as he saw your reaction, spurring him on more as he dipped his head back down to lick slowly down your slit, teasing you as he barely put any pressure at all which is what he knew you needed. A huff passed through your lips as you felt his tongue dart out to slowly continue to lick you up, teasing around your entrance as your hands gripped the bedsheets beside you in anticipation at how long he was taking. But what you weren’t aware of, was that he was doing it on purpose.

“More…” you practically whined as you squirmed a little, swallowing thickly.

His movements stopped completely as he pulled back a little to look up at you, “Ya want more?” he asked, his tone almost condescending, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention to that.

You could only nod your head frantically, needing him now more than ever as your writhed a little right in front of him, begging for his mouth to return to the place you needed him most. But then he spoke again, his words causing you to freeze.

“What’s the magic word?” he repeated, a large smirk crossing his face.

He couldn’t deny that it was just tempting to give you what you wanted right then and there, seeing you squirm was making him twitch in his pants. But everything leading up to this moment was you teasing him, playing with him in a way that was so utterly frustrating. And now seeing your guard fall down instantly as you let him take full control, he couldn’t resist to give you a little taste of your own medicine.

Your head shot up at his words, processing them slowly as your chest heaved up and down more frantically. “Please, please, I need you so bad.” you practically begged as you realized what he was doing.

He chuckled a little as he nodded, knowing he had you right where he wanted you, “Okay, okay…I’ll give ya what ya need angel.” he said sweetly, rubbing your thighs softly as they still rested on either side of his head.

Your mouth parted as you planned to say something else, but the feeling of his lips moving in to suck lightly on your clit, your words seemed to fail you. You instead let out a moan, falling back against the bed as his mouth sent shockwaves through you, nearly making you feel numb. His tongue then darted back out to swirl circles around your sensitive spot, groaning to himself at the sweet taste of you as he trailed down toward your entrance. He lapped up your wetness, gently fucking you with his tongue as you were a full on moaning mess, your hands moving back down to his hair to tug on his locks.

He groaned again to himself at the simple feeling of your fingers through his hair, his pace picking up the smallest bit as he heard the distinct sound of your moans growing a bit louder at the pleasure coursing through you. The tingling sensation you felt in your stomach only grew with each passing second, feeling him kiss and lick you over and over again, an exhilarated feeling washing over you.

Your thighs instinctively squeezed his head as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and he grunted a little unexpectedly, but he didn’t mind one bit. The feeling of your warm plush thighs pressing firmly on either side of his head sent him into a wave of his own pleasure, loving the sensation. Even if there was a small chance he could suffocate beneath you, the man would easily die happy.

His mouth then traveled back up towards your clit, sucking sensually as he heard the constant sounds of approval from you. Even the feeling of you tugging more at his hair as you desperately somehow needed him closer, that was enough to cause him to pick up his movements. You then felt his finger slide down your slit painfully slow and towards your entrance, finally pushing through to enter you while his mouth was still glued to your clit. 

You let out a strangled moan, “Oh god…yes.” you sighed as your entire body felt like it was burning, in the most pleasurable way you could imagine.

He grunted at your words, the praises falling from your perfect lips only spurred him on more, delicately adding another finger to pump inside your entrance, stretching you out. You panted as your back began to arch off the mattress, feeling the familiar tingles running through your entire body as your orgasm built. Daryl felt you squeezing against his fingers, signaling him to pay more attention to your swollen clit as he silently knew you were close, your sounds growing louder as you then called out his name in such a blissful state. Feeling his fingers curl up inside and hitting that special spot is what sent you over the edge in seconds, moaning sensually as you felt that sting snap inside of you, the feeling so intense you could’ve sworn you saw stars for a moment.

Daryl drew your orgasm out as long as he could, licking everything up before he placed one final kiss onto your clit and slowly removed his fingers from you, smiling almost proudly to himself. Your chest moved up and down rapidly as you tried desperately to catch your breath, eventually opening your eyes to look down at him with a tilt of your head, seeing the smirk he had on his face. Your eyes then widened a bit as he made eye contact with you, before licking his fingers, humming to himself all the while. His actions alone only turned you on all over again, your eyes blown and wide as you watched him intently suck them completely clean.

“Ya taste so damn sweet.” he rasped, leaning in to hover above you to place a few delicate kisses on your cheek, “Ya okay?” 

You sighed in content as you smiled, “Better than okay.” you confirmed, “That was…” you trailed off, not even being able to find the right words to describe the feelings you had felt.

But he smirked as if he knew what you meant, leaning down again to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry…I ain’t done with ya yet.” he promised.

The words sent a shiver through you as you felt him move away from you momentarily, his hands reaching down to undo his belt in a quick motion before fumbling with the button of his jeans. You sat yourself up on your elbows, watching him almost in anticipation as he maneuvered himself off the bed for a moment, slowly tugging his jeans and boxers down to his ankles before kicking them off completely onto the floor. Your eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight in front of you.

You always knew he was perfect, but now seeing him like this it only made it more real. His dick was full and hard with veins running up the sides of it. You found you couldn’t pull your eyes away, hearing him chuckle to himself in response as he moved himself back onto the mattress, sitting on his knees in front of you again.

This caused you to actually look up at him as you let out a quick breath, “Now I really want that camera.” 

He laughed to himself again, a bit louder than last time as he shook his head at you, leaning down at bit, “Nah…if anything I need one…” he trailed off as he reached out to grip your waist gently, running his touch down to your hips at he stared at you, “So stunning…” he whispered to himself.

Your eyes softened as you looked up at him, reaching up to pull his neck down to connect your lips to his again in response, your mouth gently moving with his as you felt him lower himself even further into you with a sigh. His touch moved up and down your sides gently, leaving almost a ticklish feeling behind before he reached down further to grip his dick in one of his hands, gently moving it to run up and down your slit. You gasped lightly at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer as you silently begged for him to keep going. You felt his tip continue to tease you, circling up around your clit a few times as he wanted to hear those little sounds from you all over again. Wanting to play them on repeat if he could. He smirked to himself when he heard the faintest whimper fall from your lips and echo into his mouth.

But then his lips parted from yours as he hovered over you, a serious look to his eyes now as he spoke, “Just tell me if ya need me to stop…yeah?”

You nodded in response, the anticipation building as he saw your approval, moving down to your entrance as he slowly began to push his tip into you. Your mouth parted at the feeling, but it was anything but painful. It was a feeling of satisfaction after all the pent up feelings you had felt for him, you finally welcomed the feeling of him after years of believing it could never happen. But now it was. And you were positive it couldn’t have felt better as you felt yourself practically melt beneath him.

Inch by inch he slowly pushed into you as slowly as he could, not wanting to hurt or make you uncomfortable in any way as he swallowed a strangled groan in the process. Finally you felt you were stuffed full of him, the two of you just staying perfectly still as you both seemingly let out sighs of pleasure at the feeling of one another.

He lowered his head, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder and the side of your neck, before he slowly pulled out of you, only to push back in a little quicker than before. A louder moan left your lips as he slapped back into you, causing him to pull back before moving forward again as his hips met yours. A low growl left his lips as he found a perfect pace to keep at, his mouth returning to your neck to suck and lick lightly at your skin as more blissful moans left your lips with each motion you felt.

You then grew a bit self conscious at the sounds coming out of you, the sounds he was pulling from your throat at the feeling of him tickling the sweet spot deep inside of you. The sounds you were convinced only he would be the one to bring out. One of your hands then moved away from his back as you placed it over your mouth, muffling any sounds you let out.

But he noticed immediately, slowing down his pace as he picked up his head from the crook of your neck, gently tugging your arm away, “No, no, no…” he breathed with a shake of his head, “Don’t do that…I wanna hear those pretty little noises.” 

Your heartbeat quickened at that as you nodded frantically, willing to do anything for him to keep moving the way he was. He smiled at you and placed a quick, sloppy kiss on your lips before picking up his pace again, pounding into you at a more rapid speed as he couldn’t help himself. An exaggerated moan left your parted mouth as your hands returned to claw at his shoulders, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“That’s it.” he whispered as he heard the things he was doing to you, “So fuckin pretty.” 

The words he spoke combined with his movements sent you near the edge, feeling another orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. You almost couldn’t believe how much of an effect he had on you, how you were only able to last a few minutes under his touch before you writhed beneath him. But then again, he didn’t just know what he was doing, but he looked absolutely incredible while doing it. Sweat began to glisten on his forehead, causing his hair to stick slightly to the sides of his face as his hands moved down to squeeze your hips gently, pumping himself in and out of you. The sounds he began to let out were almost animalistic, but he couldn’t help it. You felt so good, better than he ever could’ve imagined.

Your hips moved rhythmically against his, feeling him hitting your clit at the perfect angle now which sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, “Oh…Daryl.” you cried softly.

The sound of approval and praise spurred him on further, snapping his hips against yours quickly as he could feel you tightening around him, “You gonna cum again? Hm?” he asked.

You cried out again when he kept hitting that same spot, “God, yes! Yes!” you said as you clung onto him more desperately.

His head moved up to leave a few rushed kisses on your cheek as he whispered near your ear, “Come on baby…come on.” 

With one final thrust you completely fell apart all over again, moaning loudly as you felt yourself shake a little as another orgasm washed right over you. Your moans turned into heavenly sighs as he continued to push back into you over and over again, though the feeling of you cumming on his dick, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. In a few short seconds, he reluctantly pulled out of you, stroking himself a few times before he came all over your stomach, some even landing on your breasts.

The two of you were now only left with a feeling of euphoria, catching your breaths and coming down from your amazing highs. Your head rested back against the pillow as you came to your senses again, feeling him moving around for a moment before he was cleaning up your skin with a bandana he carried around in the pocket of his jeans. You let out a soft sigh at his gentle touch, seeing him then throw the piece of fabric somewhere else along the floor before slowly laying down beside you, pulling the blankets up to cover your bare bodies.

He then wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you back against his chest, feeling yourself smile at the feeling. “Was that even real?” he questioned out loud, his lips kissing your shoulder as he couldn’t help but want to taste every part of you.

You smiled again before slowly turning around to face him, “Hm…I don’t know. Maybe we should do it one more time just to make sure.” you winked, leaning up to place a few kisses across the base of his neck.

He chuckled at your response, his hand running up and down your bare back gently as he let out a deep sigh, “At least gimmie a few minutes first…ain’t gettin any younger ya know.”

You pulled back again to look at him fully, your eyes tracing all over his features as you took in this moment as much as you could. You didn’t exactly know where the two of you would go from here, what the future would hold for your specific situation, so you found you didn’t want to forget a thing. Your eyes took in the entirety of his face as he stared back at you softly, your hand coming up to the side of his face as your thumb ran across his cheekbone lightly. He was so beautiful, so perfect to you. You didn’t want to let him go.

“You’re wonderful.” you couldn’t help but whisper as you looked at him so warmly.

His eyes softened as he took your face gently in his hands, “And you pretty girl, are so, so addictive.” he practically whispered as he brought you into a deep kiss.

And his words were far from a lie. He couldn’t describe it better than he just did. You were like a drug to him almost, finding himself craving you more and more even though you were right next to him. He desperately needed you in his life just as you needed him in your own. And you found that just those few words he spoke to you, it gave you more reassurance for what was to come.

You laughed against his lips as you felt him move up to hover over you again, breaking away briefly to say, “I thought you needed a few minutes.”

He smiled at you as he placed a few gentle kisses across your face, “I guess ya keep me young.” he teased as he leaned down to bite at your neck playfully, causing you to let out a delighted squeal.

Perhaps the future wasn’t something to worry about. But something to cherish.

~ Thanks for reading!

Tags ~ @fluffy-dixon @ryoujoking @dreamtofus @indiasfanficcorner @darylssluttt @richardsamboramylove55 @yoowhatthefuck @pops450 @dixiezstoryz @petalsthorns @seongwin

[crescenthistory]

hear me out…b4 with paul <333

thanks for your request babe! this fit best as a silly drabble in my mind, enjoy<33

Prompt: B.4 “Kiss me again”

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: sparring, kissing, goofing

The blade whistles through the air, missing your cheek by a breath as you twist out of the way. You’re not fast enough to avoid the follow-up, though – Paul’s foot sweeps low, knocking you off balance. You hit the ground hard, air rushing from your lungs.

He is standing over you in an instant, poised and confident, dark curls falling over his forehead, eyes glittering with the quiet triumph he always tries to mask.

“Yield?” he asks, that edge of teasing already creeping into his voice. He extends a hand down to you, his stance relaxed, clearly feeling like he has already won. Typical.

“I’ll think about it,” you huff, reaching up as if you’re taking his hand. The second your fingers brush his, you tug, hard. He yelps in surprise as you yank him off his feet, using his own weight to pull him down.

He lands hard beside you, his expression startled for a split second before it melts into a grin. You don’t give him time to recover, rolling over to press the flat of your practice blade to his throat.

“Yield?” you echo, your smirk matching his earlier confidence.

Paul laughs, bright and unguarded, and it’s the kind of sound that makes your chest feel too tight. His shoulders shake beneath you, his amusement spilling out in waves, and for a moment, you forget about the training ground and the hours of drills. It’s just him, here, like this.

“Okay, okay, I yield.” His hands coming up in mock surrender. In his eyes, though, there is a dancing, teasing glint that should tell you he’s not done playing yet.

You lift the blade, relaxing your grip – and he strikes.

With a swift movement, Paul rolls you both over so you’re beneath him, pinning you to the ground. Before you can protest, he catches your wrists, holding them down with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. His body is warm above you, his breath still coming fast from the laughter.

“Can’t believe you fell for your own trick,” he murmurs, leaning in close, voice a low drawl meant to needle you.

Your lips twitch, torn between frustration and amusement. “Can’t believe you’re so insufferable.”

“I’ve been told.” He smirks, leaning in even closer, so close now that his breath ghosts over your skin. “But admit it. You love losing to me.”

He loves to push the limit with you, but you won't let him get away that easy.

“Oh, please.” You scoff, squirming under his grip. “I am so above that.”

You throw your hips up on the side of his, mind too focused on not losing to panic over your proximity, as you use your weight and sheer willpower to topple him over, ripping out of his grasp from the momentum.

Both opponents scramble to your feet, eyes trained on the other to catch any small movement. Despite yourself, a smile begins to tug at the corner of your mouth, relishing in the pure childish fun of it all.

Once Paul sees, he smiles himself, shaking his head slightly at your antics.

In the next moment you throw your body around and lunge, taking advantage of his slight distraction.

Your foot connects with Paul’s chest, and he stumbles back, laughing as he barely regains his balance. His grin grows lopsided, wild, as he twirls his blade in hand, trying to recover some dignity.

“Oh, don’t even think about it,” you warn as you see him shift his posture. You know him too well, his signalling, his tells – he’s about to pull one of his flashy moves, the kind that makes you roll your eyes but also secretly impresses you. 

Paul cocks his head, increasingly infuriating smirk still on his lips. “Think about what? Winning?”

You narrow your eyes. “Trying and failing to, at least.”

Ignoring you, his foot sliding forward with practised ease, body twisting in ways it shouldn’t be able to, blade arcing toward you in a sweeping strike.

You sidestep him, just out of range, letting him stumble slightly past you.

“Really?” you tease, pressing in close before he can recover, mock blade at the ready. “Is this the same Paul Atreides that’s supposed to be great?”

“Oh, I’m saving my energy,” he quips, but his breath is coming faster, his shoulders rising and falling. “Just giving you a false sense of security.”

“Right,” you say, repressing an eye roll so you can keep your focus on him. “So, in this plan, I’m supposed to get overconfident and–”

Paul surges forward before you can finish, his blade coming at you in a quick, fluid strike. You barely manage to block it, relying on your reflexes as you twist and catch his wrist in your hand, using his momentum to throw him off balance. He stumbles, wide-eyed, and you spin, finally pressing him back against the smooth stone floor of the courtyard.

His back hits the ground with a soft thud, and you’re on him in an instant, straddling his waist, pinning him down. Your practice blade presses lightly to his throat, though your grin is what’s really sharp now.

“How did that work out, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Yield, or are we going to keep pretending?”

Paul’s breathing has quickened beneath you, but there’s still that mischievous glint in his eyes, even as he raises his hands in a final surrender. “Alright, alright,” he says, smiling. “You win this round.”

You can’t help the triumphant laugh that bursts from you. “Oh, don’t look so surprised.”

“I’m not,” he replies, his voice dropping an octave as he looks up at you, his eyes flicking to linger on your lips. “Not when you fight like that.”

Your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat. It’s all playful until it’s not.

Maybe if you weren’t full of endorphins from the fight and, more importantly, the win, you would have thought twice. Instead, you drop your knife in favour of his cheek and lean down to catch his lips with yours.

It’s short lived, seconds feeling like minutes when you’re this high, but when you pull back, Paul’s hands shoot up to secure you by your waist and neck so you can’t go far. 

He whispers your name with a wild look in his eyes. When you meet that gaze, you realise what you did and what it meant.

Paul tilts his head up slightly, lips still brushing yours. “Kiss me again,” he murmurs.

For a second, you’re frozen, caught in the quiet intensity of his gaze. His voice i soft but insistent, and the teasing banter from a moment ago seems to have slipped away. The challenge remains, though.

“Paul…” you start, but whatever you were going to say fades as his hands tighten on your hips, urging you closer.

“You heard me,” he says, his tone lighter this time, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re going to deny the victor their spoils?”

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “Pretty sure I’m the victor.”

When Paul rolls you over this time, it’s with lazy ease as you don’t feel the need to fight it. His hand falls from your face to hold him up, most of his weight being placed on his hips on yours.

“What about now?” 

“Doesn’t change a thing, Atreides.”

Still, you give into him and tug on his hair to bring him back down into another searing kiss. What started as a playful gesture shifts into something deeper, something that makes you forget about the sparring match, about the training grounds, about everything except the feeling of Paul’s lips moving against yours. His hands slide up your sides, settling on your waist, and his fingers flex slightly, like he’s anchoring himself to the moment, to you.

When you pull back for air, your foreheads resting together, Paul is smiling –  that rare, genuine smile that you only ever see when it’s just the two of you, away from all the expectations and responsibilities.

“You know,” he says, voice breathless but still tinged with humour, “you didn’t have to knock me flat to kiss me.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you sit back slightly, still straddling him. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides,” you add, raising an eyebrow, “if you wanted to kiss me so badly, you could’ve won.”

Paul laughs, full and bright, and you feel his body shake beneath yours. “Oh, I let you win.”

“Right,” you drawl, shifting to poke him in the chest with your finger. “Sure, sure. Go on and keep telling yourself that, future Duke.”

His grin softens, and he reaches up to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d rather be here.”

The way he says it so earnestly hits you somewhere deep, making your heart stutter in your chest. You swallow, your playful bravado slipping for a moment as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with that same intensity, the one that makes you feel seen in a way that’s almost too much.

“Paul…” you start again, but he interrupts with a playful grin, his hands slipping to your waist again.

“Don’t go all serious on me now,” he teases, though there’s a gentleness to it, a way he’s pulling you back into the easy, playful rhythm you share. “You’ve still got me pinned. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You laugh, shaking off the sudden tension. “You mean while you let it last?” Your tone imitates his.

“Exactly.”

“Well, if we pretend I’m in charge,” you say, leaning down again, your breath mingling with his, “then I say we take a break from all this training.”

Paul hums in agreement, his lips brushing yours again as he murmurs, “You always have the best ideas.”

“Now you admit it.”

[jasmineoolongtea]

"i think i'm in love with her."

"sure, you are."

geto suguru scoffs at his best friend's words. he's heard this spiel more times than he can count and he's sure this isn't going to be the last time he hears it.

"no, i'm serious suguru. i am."

satoru thinks, no, knows that he's serious this time. all those past times? those were just phases, passing fads he simply found himself swept up in the rush and thrill of them but he's sure he's got the real thing this time.

it has to be because 'love' is the only thing that can describe the way he feels when you grace his line of sight.

the sweaty hands, the shaky breath, the butterflies in his stomach and the way his heart beats so fast he thinks that it's going to fall out of his chest; satoru may not be an expert on romance but these are pretty much as textbook as you can get when describing the symptoms of being in love.

"then, why do you like her?"

suguru is still unsure if he can truly believe the other's grand proclamations, perhaps it's the sceptic in him, but he's going to give him a chance to prove himself; it's the least he can do as his devoted friend of many years.

"love her, not like, suguru." satoru quickly corrects him and suguru instinctively rolls his eyes at him. seemingly sensing that he's not going to budge on this stance of his, an exasperated sigh leaves suguru's lips as he begrudgingly acquiesces to his request.

"fine, why do you love her?"

"well, i'm glad you've asked." there's a shit-eating grin plastered on satoru's face and suguru has to fight the urge to jump up from his seat and wipe it off his face.

satoru brings a finger up to his chin in an attempt to mime being in deep thought. "where do i even begin."

"i love the way she laughs, the way she's so expressive when she's talking about something she likes, how her hair frames her face and the way she fiddles with it when she's nervous. i love the way she smiles when she's happy, like truly happy and you can tell that when the corner of her eyes crinkle up and do that cute thing that she does."

satoru's not even halfway through with his lovesick ramblings but anyone with half a mind listening would get the message that he's utterly head over heels for this girl. some might even be able to resonate with his words in a way that goes beyond just figurative.

it's stupid, really. suguru doesn't need someone to be telling him all of these things about you like he hasn't noticed them himself.

he's lost countless hours simply just taking the time to spot all these things about you whenever he's blessed with the privilege of seeing you and if he could, he would put down admiring you as a hobby of his (no matter how cheesy it sounds).

sometimes, he might even let himself indulge in a fantasy or two when he imagines a world where he works up the courage to be the one who brushes that stray hair away for you instead of letting the wind blow it away.

suguru knows he doesn't shine like the sun in the way that satoru does, he doesn't have this magnetic aura that magically makes everyone gravitate to him nor does he brighten up every room he walks in (he's pretty sure he does the opposite if you were to really ask him).

a part of him might say that he's more like the moon, quietly shining and illuminating the darkness in his own way, or maybe even the stars that dot the night sky but deep down, he knows it's wishful thinking on his part, truth be told.

that's why suguru only lets his daydreams remain as that, fleeting fantasies he might give in to from time to time, because he knows that you deserve to be the centre of someone's universe and to be unabashedly showered in the greatest and grandest of affection. more importantly, he knows that you deserve to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin and that is something he truly can't give you.

does it hurt? to be so aware of this fact yet still yearn for something so decidedly unreachable? if he said no then he would just be lying to himself. if he was going to be even more truthful, then he would stop grimacing to hide the pain of the knife twisting further into his chest when he sees someone else be so unashamed in their love for you.

but it's okay, he thinks to himself, he'll watch on from the sidelines and maybe one day he'll be able to be content with this fate he's resigned himself to.

pt.2 (slow dancing in the dark) <3