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#looking forward to all the shenanigans that can be had!!!
gloomwitchwrites · 22 hours
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141 with a partner who likes to bite
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Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes
Word Count: 800
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"
John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.
"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."
The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.
Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.
Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.
"Stop."
He nips at your throat.
"Fucking."
Then he nips at your shoulder.
"Biting."
Finally, John nips at your upper arm.
"Me."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."
You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.
“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.
Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.
Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”
You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”
Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.
"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.
“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.
He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”
“Can’t help it,” you mutter.
“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.
“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”
“Kyle.”
“Mean bite.”
“I swear to God, Kyle.”
“A—”
You place your hand over his mouth.
John "Soap" MacTavish
With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.
Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.
A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.
What’s one little bite?
It won’t hurt.
Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.
Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.
One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.
You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.
“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.
“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.
"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.
“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.
A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.
Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.
But you lose.
Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.
“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.
"I didn't bite," you mutter.
Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.
He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."
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dannystheone · 2 days
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more lee deadpool!!!!! i love how u write him and wolverine sm<3
aww thank you so much! It took me a second to think about what I wanted to write lol but here it is!
this is just a little somethin somethin nothing special lel
and sorry this took so long to come out I haven't been feeling motivated to write and I've been taking dress to impress on roblox very seriously LMAO
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FROM THE MOVIE/ Cursing, shenanigans, fourth wall breaks, nastiness, mentions of alcohol, mentions of BDSM
MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE!!
A Who Dun' It Mystery! (Lee Deadpool/Ler Wolverine)
Logan wakes up to find all his beer gone from the refrigerator without knowing who took it! Can Logan withstand all of Wade's antics to get a straight answer?
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"RAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
Birds flew out of their nesting places and whole houses shook on their foundations from the roar uttered on this peaceful morning. Squirrels, bugs, birds, pretty much the whole cast of Bambi ran for the hills to escape the terrifying beast.
Aside from one simple sleeping man and his adorable companion. That simple sleeping man was none other than Wade Wilson, otherwise known as the Merc with the Mouth, Marvel Jesus, People's Sexiest Man Alive in 2010- although in my opinion he was snubbed for 2008- and his adorable companion was Dogpool, of course.
Now, sleeping soundly, dreaming of Vanessa, Thor, and a certain web-slinger- Deadpool snored contently while the angry footsteps of the terrifying creature stalked to his bedroom. The angry creature better watch where he steps because Wade turned his room into a snow globe last night! And no, not the kind from the gift shop, although I'm sure if you ask politely, the gift shop worker would be more than happy to help you make this kind of snowglobe with a crisp 20 dollar bill-
The door was thrown open with a slam; the terrifying creature was revealed to be The Wolverine! Now is this story the one where the boy gets the monster at the end? Maybe an intermission of some kind-
"Shut the fuck up." Logan stalked toward Wade on his bed, careful not to step in a certain spot of something on the ground, and grabbed the papers Wade was reading aloud. Logan flipped the papers around to see the cover page, 'A Who 'Dun It Mystery!' Written by dannystheone''. Logan growled and threw the papers to the side of the room. Wade put his hands up innocently and looked at Logan.
"Someone's delightful this morning. Did you finally catch the bad kitty you chase in your dreams boy, huh? Or did you find my stash of catnip? Do you have more dog energy or cat energy? Let's ask the audience." Wade turned towards the camera, but Logan grabbed Wade's jaw and forced him to look him in the eye.
"Who the fuck, in this godforsaken household, drank the last of my beer?" Logan asked with a deathly calm. Wade lifted an eyebrow at the suggestive hold Logan had him in and spoke with his cheeks squished in his grip.
"If I answer the question, that'll take up one of your three wishes granted by the great and powerful Genie-Pool! And no, we're not using Robin Williams's rights for this one, but we can use Disney's. Would you like to use the wish to answer that question? Remember, one of my rules is I can't make anyone fall in love with you, even me, pretty boy~" Deadpool blew him a smooch as Wolverine snarled and pointed a finger in his face.
"A real. Fucking. Answer. You fucking moron. Who the hell drank my shit? Or I'll get the answer out of you." Logan threatened. Wade giggled like a girl, fanning his cheeks at the suggestive implications. Well, what Wade interpreted as suggestive anyway.
"Oh, you naughty little honey badger! Now I'm starting to think of what you'll do if I don't tell you~ Do we have a Tek Knight-type setup somewhere in the house? I should really invest in something like that-" Wolverine's temper got the better of him as he unsheathed his claws and thrust them forward. Deadpool jumped as he sacrificed a unicorn plushy to take the brunt of Wolverine's claws. The unicorn's fluff puffed out everywhere as Logan's claws stabbed the plushy.
"Nah ah ah! No claws in the house mister! We can't make all the furniture in the house red to cover up the bloodstains that come from claw-related incidents- although that would certainly be on brand. Could you imagine a couch designed by the guys who made the Deadpool X-Box controller? I might need to patent this million-dollar idea." Wolverine stared at him incredulously as he sheathed his claws. Deadpool looked to the broken unicorn plushy with a sigh and tossed it to the side.
"Jesus Christ, you're a yammering idiot. Your ADHD has ADHD, for God's sake. Will ya just tell me who drank my fucking beer already? I'll only hurt them a little bit..." Wolverine was clearly exasperated, but Deadpool had energy for days when it came to messing with his Wolvie-bear.
"Mmmm, I dunnooo... what do I get if I help you? A gratuitous turn-down service, perhaps? Almost as gratuitous as that lovely callback~ I hope you all at home reading this enjoyed that-" Deadpool said lovingly.
"Alright, that's it," Logan said aloud. Wade was cut off as Logan threw his legs over Wade and straddled him damn near on his ribcage with his arms pinned to his sides, effectively trapping him.
"Woah woah woah big boy! Establish the safe word first before you engage! We went through the BDSM guidelines together! You disregarding everything the BDSM subreddit taught us makes you no better than P-Diddy!" Deadpool looks to the camera. "Too soon, you think? I think it's in good taste."
Wolverine rolled his eyes as he begrudgingly started wriggling his fingers in Deadpool's ribs. Deadpool was currently wearing a white t-shirt with cartoon cats all over it and classic white boxers with red hearts all over them. His usual attire that gave him a little protection from Wolvie's tickle attacks was at the dry cleaners after the last job he had.
Logan realized very early in his 'relationship' with Wade that sometimes Wade needed to be tickled to be cooperative. He had no idea why, he had never met someone like Wade before so he assumed the weirdness and the absurdity of it came with the territory.
Additionally, with the no blood rule in the house and an elderly woman as their other roommate, this was the closest thing to 'violence' that Wolverine could use to take his aggression out on Deadpool. Wolverine had to admit, it felt good sometimes to take it all out on him like this. Logan's fingers scribbled and scratched in Wade's ribs, Wade immediately breaking out into peals of laughter.
"L-Lohohogahahan!! Wahahait wahahait wait!" Deadpool was caught by surprise, and thank GOD he was wearing his mask because he was blushing redder than the material his mask was made of. It always caught Deadpool by surprise when Wolverine randomly tickled him like this, only because it was so out of left field for his character. Almost as if this isn't a regular thing that would occur in the MCU and only occurs in the minds of degenerates on the internet.
"I WIHIHISH thahat wehehere the cahahase!! If ihihihit wehehere, I wohohouldn't behehe gehehetting tihihihickled rihihight nohohow!!" Deadpool yelled at no one in particular. Wolverine sneered as his fingers dotted Deadpool's ribs with an accuracy only experience could give. He wasn't feeling playful this time around, he just wanted an answer to where his beer had gone and he feared this was the only way he could get it.
"You wouldn't be getting ti-... be getting this treatment if you would just tell me who drank my damn beer. You always make it hard on yourself." Logan sighed and continued to tickle the merc. Deadpool swished from side to side on his bed as well as he could with a whole hunk of Hugh Jackman and adamantium skeleton on him.
"Awhahahaha!~ Yohohou stihihihill cahahan't sahahay thehe wohohord?! Yohohou're sohohoho cuhuhuhute!~" Wade teased, causing Logan to bristle and dig his fingers in further as retaliation. Even when Wade was in the throes of being tickled, he still managed to fluster his Ler. It was a superpower at that point.
"I got a different word I can say. Who the hell drank my goddamn beer?" Wolverine snarled, Deadpool still twitching and shuffling from side to side as the tickles came from either side of him.
"Nohohohot a wohohord! Thahahat's ahaha sehehentence! Haharvard DOESN'T wahahant yohohour lohohocation!" Deadpool laughed more genuinely now from his own joke than the tickles he was receiving. Logan growled from not having his question answered again and forced his fingers into the small spaces of Wade's armpits and vibrated his fingers into them. Wade shrieked and started belly laughing now.
"How about you tell me the location of my beer, huh? Think you can do that, Bub? Did Al drink it? Did you? Answer me!" Wolverine shouted over Deadpool's loud laughing. Deadpool tried squeezing the spaces that held Wolverine's fingers, but it just made the fingers tighter and closer to the skin, so either way it sucked.
"I dohohon't drihihink beheheer! I ohohonly drihihink thehehe fihihinest Aviahation Gihin!-" Wolverine's hands were lifted from Deadpool as Deadpool turned to the camera with a bottle of Aviation Gin appearing in his hands. -"Which you can now purchase from any local liquor store near you, including the Limited Deadpool Edition. Thank you for choosing Aviation Gin. Sincerely, Ryan Reynolds." Wade put the bottle back from its mysterious spot where it was before and assumed the exact same position he was in before with Wolverine's hands back in his armpit spaces.
"Then who the hell drank it? This can aaaall be over as soon as you tell me who did it!" Wolverine asked again. You would think he was beginning to lose his patience, but Logan was actually calming down from his previous place of anger now that he had an outlet to take it out. Wade was the unfortunate (or fortunate, whatever floats your boat) recipient of that, however.
"I cahahahan't! I wahahahas swohohorn tohoho sehehecrecy! I swehehehear!!" Deadpool sounded genuine this time, but Wolverine wasn't having it. Logan took it a step further and took his fingers to slide them up Wade's signature mask and started fluffing his fingers over his neck and the bottoms of his ears. He knew this was a secret spot that wasn't touched very often and found it by mistake, so it should be doubly effective here.
"Yeah? Well, I've done plenty of interrogating in my day, breaking down my victims and having them submit. S'aaall a matter of time now..." Logan attempted to sound intimidating but to Wade, this was just silly.
"PFFT! Hahahahaha! Ohohokahahay, whahahatever yohohou sahahay, Fihifty Shahades Of Grehey! Ohoho I'll suhuhubmihit ahahalright! Ihihif thahahat's whahahat yohohou wahahant!~" Deadpool couldn't help but laugh at his own hilarity, which just pissed Wolverine off.
Logan took his fingers from Wade's neck and took them down to his collarbones, to which Wade exploded. Wade was weird in the sense that his ticklish spots were never consistent. One spot would barely get him to laugh in one tickle session, and the next session that same spot would break him. Only ever adding to just how bizarre he was.
"You'll submit it you don't want to die first. Looks like you already got one foot in the grave from how hard you're laughing. Who swore you to secrecy huh?" Logan started gently pinching Wade's collarbones, which drove Wade up the wall. His legs started kicking and his head started whipping back and forth (with Willow Smith just out of frame).
"NOHOHO nohoho no! Okahahay okahahay stahahahap!! Ihihihit wahahas DohohohogPool! Wehehe rahahahan ohohohout of wahahater sohohoho I gahahahave hihihihihim the beheheheer!!" Deadpool spilled his secret, causing Wolverine to stop.
"You did what? You gave my beer to the sock puppet?" Wolverine got off of Deadpool, standing up and off to the side to let the merc breathe. Wade held a hand up to his chest while he caught his breath and turned to Logan.
"FIRST OF ALL- the gorgeous munchkin's name is DogPool, or- alternatively, the Messiah, if you'd like."
"Never calling him that-" Logan interjected.
"-Second of all, I only did it to be the best caregiver I could possibly be, without going to the store or getting any sort of grocery delivery service. Have you seen what a DoorDasher will do to your food if you don't tip? It's enough to make a 4-Channer fall to his knees, and that's saying something." Deadpool hauled himself up into a sitting position at the edge of his bed while Wolverine stood with his hands on his hips.
"You're ridiculous, you know that? Why couldn't you give it water from out of the tap?" Wolverine asked, sounding genuine. Deadpool gave him an incredulous look even through the mask.
"What kind of Fantasy/Disney/Fairytale-Land do you live in where we're rich enough to have drinkable tap water or rich enough to own a Brita? You think any of the money from the movie actually made it into our pockets? Ryan, Hugh, and Shawn pooled all the money the movie made together to fundraise Ryan to get back on his feet after the absolute disaster that was 'IF'. Regular tap water isn't good enough for my ray of sunshine, so I chose the next best option." Deadpool picked up DogPool sleeping right next to his bed and offered him to Wolverine to hold.
"Don't you want the best for the little chicken noodle?" Deadpool asked sweetly. Wolverine quirked an eyebrow at the dog with the tongue sticking out of his mouth. Dammit, it was so ugly and pathetic looking it was somewhat... cute. He didn't know how the dog managed to do it, but whatever his tactics were, they were working. Wolverine rolled his eyes and gave the dog's head a pat. Deadpool squealed at the display.
"Yaaay! My kitty and my puppy making up. Oh, we're all happy, aren't we? And yes Wolvie, your next six-pack is on me when I do eventually go to the store. Those 1000 bottles of baby oil aren't going to buy themselves. Two jokes in one fic folks. How we feeling about that? Go ahead and tell Danny in the comments or reblogs below." Deadpool said, putting DogPool back on his oversized bed.
"You're going to the store immediately if you know what's good for you." Wolverine threatened. Deadpool stood up from his bed and looked at Wolverine sympathetically.
"Oh, honey bear... when have I ever known what's good for me?" Deadpool asked in a loving tone.
Wolverine answered with a deadpan expression and merely unsheathed his claws quickly with a loud SNIKT.
Jumping with a loud yelp, Deadpool hurriedly ran out of his bedroom, hopping over the puddle of mysterious liquid on the floor before leaving the house for the grocery store.
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aberooski · 5 months
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Me through the lense of ygo, especially GX, is really one of the most genuine versions of me. It might even be the most genuine by now. Thank you for allowing me to find a version of me that I can make sense of and know who she is and not have to stifle her or hide her from you.
Thank you for allowing her to exist.
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sourlove · 5 months
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Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️
TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY
A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.
READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE
Thanks for the ask!
The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.
"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"
You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.
"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"
Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.
"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.
"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.
"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.
Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."
"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."
"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."
"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.
"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"
Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.
When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.
"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.
"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."
You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."
"A sap for you, honeybun~"
"I said don't call me that in public!"
"But whyyyy?"
You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.
"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.
You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?
The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.
Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.
"You."
Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.
"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"
The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.
He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.
"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"
FIND ALL MY WORKS HERE
A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.
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itadorey · 1 year
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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄!
pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: college au! in which you argue with the school's golden boy (in your defense, you didn't know!) and then find yourself unable to avoid him no matter where you go. genre: college au! strangers to lovers, humor notes: mentions of alcohol, college shenanigans, wingman geto!, shoko refuses to be gojo's wingwoman wc: ~6.5k
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a shiver runs down your spine as you exit the stuffy house, the cool air a stark contrast to the warm atmosphere inside. 
you smile as you heard a loud cheer, excusing yourself as you squeeze past the two boys who were celebrating their beer pong win. you stumble slightly when one of the boys leans a little too far back, swaying drunkenly as he gives you a remorseful look and let out a small ‘sorry!’. bumping into something as you waved him off, you do your best to keep your drink from spilling, slightly leaning against whatever you had bumped into in an attempt to regain your balance.
"watch where you're going," a bored voice drawls, causing you to turn around. you look up to meet the person's eyes, instead being met with shiny, white hair framing a handsome face. you feel your face heat up as you study the stranger carefully, taking in his casual posture before observing the dark sunglasses that are perched on his nose. wait, sunglasses? at night? you realize you've been staring for too long when he suddenly leans down, looking you over before speaking. "what? you like what you see?"
his words snap you out of your thoughts, and you instinctively take a step back as you notice how close he is. his actions cause his sunglasses to slip down, giving you a glimpse of bright, blue irises that seem to glow in the dim lighting. you shake your head softly, clutching your cup to your chest nervously as you try to avoid eye contact with him.
"what? no!" you vehemently deny, frowning as you notice the amused smile on his face. "i was just going to say i'm sor—"
"i don't care," he cuts you off, his tone smug as he watches you stumble over your words. you balk for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts before scowling at him. he might've been pretty, that was quickly overshadowed by his irritating personality.
"you really should be more aware of your surroundings," he continues, glancing down at the cup held tightly between your hands. "or maybe you should stop drinking. i dunno, just an idea."
"what? this isn't even alcohol!" you protest, nose scrunching up as you look at him with distaste. you take a step forward, pointing a finger at him accusingly. "you were facing me! maybe you should've warned me before i bumped into you."
"sure it isn't," he replies smoothly, a wide grin on his face as he reaches out to grab your finger and wiggle it around. "and maybe, you're just a klutz."
you yank your hand out of his grasp, stumbling back slightly as you half-cross your arms, making sure your cup remains stable. you ignore the way your heart jumps at the contact. "i am not a klutz! and listen here sunglasses, this cup is full of water."
"you sure you're not drunk?" he asks, a condescending smirk on his face as he takes a step towards you. "you're stumbling an awful lot for someone who's sober. or is it because i make you nervous?"
"you know what?" you seethe, fed up with the white-haired stranger in front of you. "here, taste it."
before you can think your actions through, you toss your water in his face. "refreshing, isn't it?"
you're gone in an instant, and the stranger finds himself chuckling as he dries off his sunglasses. he grimaces when he realizes his shirt is also wet, tugging the fabric away from his skin as he heads inside to find his friends.
he doesn't know who you are, but he was now determined to find out.
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a groan leaves your lips as you try to open your eyes, the sunlight streaming in through the window preventing you from doing so. the constant vibrations from your phone haven't stopped for the past ten minutes, and all you want to do is go back to sleep.
you raise an arm to block the sunlight as you fumble around for your phone, an eyebrow raising when you see that shoko was the one who had been calling you the entire time.
"hello?" you ask, confusion and exhaustion mixing to make your tone sluggish. you let your eyes close, turning onto your side as you snuggle into your comforter. "what's with you today? leave me alone."
"hey!" you hear shoko say, followed by another small greeting from utahime. "are you still in bed?"
"yeah," you reply, pulling the blanket over your head. "are you two together right now? thanks for inviting me. some friends you are."
"we tried calling!" utahime replies. you can hear shoko huff, presumably due to utahime pushing her away from the phone. "you didn't answer your phone. it's not our fault!"
"i know, i know," you mutter, a smile stretching across your face as you hear utahime apologize anyways. "but seriously, what's with you two? shoko usually gives up if i don't answer after the second ring."
"you mean you don't know?"
"know what?" you ask, a yawn escaping you as you feel your eyes lower. you're half-tempted to end the call, but you can't deny that you're curious as to what could've been so important that shoko would willingly call you so many times.
"you're famous," shoko says. you can hear the faint clicking of a lighter in the background, a brief distraction as you try to process shoko's words. "you're all over social media. at least, on the pages that post about our student body."
there's a moment of silence after her words, and you find yourself sitting up immediately. sleep has fully evaded you by now, and you throw the comforter off of yourself before sitting criss-cross-applesauce. "i'm what?"
"famous," shoko repeats, her voice a little muffled due to what you assume is a cigarette. you pull your phone away from your ear as it buzzes once again, making sure to put the call on speaker before checking your notifications. "check your messages, i just sent you a link."
the link leads you to a random instagram profile, full of videos and memes submitted by students at your university. you click the first video on the page, your jaw dropping when you realize it was you in the video. you and that stranger you had argued with the previous night.
"oh my god," you say, watching as the video plays out on your screen. you watch as the stranger leans in close to you, as you yell at him, as he grabs your finger, and as you toss your drink in his face. by the time the video restarts, you had placed your phone beside you, head in your hands as you chuckle in disbelief.
"this is awful!" you finally say, flopping back onto your mattress and squinting as the sun hits your eyes. "not just awful, this is humiliating!"
"yeah, for gojo," utahime snorts. "he needs to be humbled. if anything, you did everyone on this campus a favor."
"gojo?" you mutter, closing your eyes fully before letting out another groan and shooting back up. "is that his name? he was kinda cute. what a shame."
"you don't know who he is?" you hear shoko ask, a genuinely curious tone enveloping her words. you hum absentmindedly as you scroll through the comments, seeing that many of them agree with utahime's sentiment while many others seem to question your actions. "and ew!"
"no, do you?" you ask, choosing to ignore her sound of disgust.
"yes," both shoko and utahime say. you hear a glass clink against a table before shoko continues. "gojo is actually an old frie-"
"oh my god!" you shriek, interrupting shoko as you fling your phone against your pillow. you quickly grab it, apologies leaving your mouth as you try to calm down.
"what? what happened?" utahime yells, concern in her voice as she hears you laugh nervously.
"you're not going to believe this," you say, finally catching your breath. you feel boneless as you settle in between your pillows, not even trying to fight the sunlight anymore. "he just requested to follow me on instagram."
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the rest of the weekend passes without incident, the follow request from gojo remaining untouched on your phone. by the time monday rolls around, you had hoped that everyone had forgotten about the incident, but based on the random high fives you get and whispers that follow you, you knew they hadn't.
"this is awful," you hiss, lowering your head even more as a group of girls walk behind you and giggle. the textbook in front of you isn't making any sense to you, causing you to slam it shut and push it away before resting your head on the table. "i can't go anywhere without hearing something about me and gojo."
shoko hums quietly, too caught up in her medicinal chemistry textbook to pay you any attention. you sigh pathetically, resting your arms underneath your head before giving her a pleading look. when she doesn't react, you sigh louder, earning a chuckle from her before she leans back and puts her pen down.
"what did you expect? he's one of the most popular people on this campus," shoko reminds you, running a hand through her hair before tying it up in a messy ponytail. "i'm more surprised about the fact that you didn't know who he was to begin with."
"i don't keep up with school gossip," you mutter, weakly reaching out for shoko's water bottle. she gives you a knowing smile before leaning forward, grabbing the bottle and pulling it towards her. you whine as she opens it, watching as she raises it to her lip to take a sip. the two of you are caught off guard when the bottle is yanked out of her hands, water sloshing out and landing on the table. you hurry to grab a napkin from your backpack, wincing as shoko slams her hands on the table.
"what the hell, satoru!" she exclaims, irritation clear in her tone as she yells at the newcomer.
"who the fuck is satoru?" you ask, humming in delight when you find a paper towel. you proceed to kick your backpack back under the table, placing the paper towel over the spill and letting it absorb the liquid. you can hear shoko snort at the question, and you raise your eyes to see her placing her now sealed water bottle back on the table.
"awww you don't remember me?" satoru asks, placing his palms on the table before leaning towards you. "i'm heartbroken."
his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you tense up when you realize that you recognize it. you look up at satoru to meet bright blue eyes, familiar, dark sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. there's a teasing smile on his face and you can feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you stare at him. "oh... you're gojo."
"satoru," he corrects, his smile growing even wider when he sees your flustered state. "i like it when you say my name."
you ignore the way he's looking at you, your stomach turning as you simply nod and turn away to face shoko. "isn't, uh, isn't satoru a childhood friend of yours?"
"i sure am!" gojo replies, sliding into the seat next to shoko and throwing an arm around her shoulders. he pulls her in close, swaying side to side with her as she gives you a bored look.
"he sure is," shoko says tiredly, turning to give gojo an annoyed stare. she flicks his forehead, shoving his arm off of her as he yelps. she rolls her eyes as she ignores him, picking up her pen and scanning her textbook once more.
"why didn't you tell me?" you hiss, leaning in close to give her a glare. she smiles when she notices your expression, tapping the tip of your nose with her pen and chuckling when you shake your head and lean back in your chair.
"we tried," shoko says, rolling her eyes. "you threw your phone across the room when you got that follow request on instagram, remember?"
your eyes widen in surprise at her words, mortification clear on your face as you glance at gojo. "i did not throw my phone!"
"you threw your phone? all the way across your room?" gojo asks, snickering at your reaction. he leans forwards, placing his elbows on the table and resting his cheek on his palm. "so i do make you feel all flustered, huh? i'm flattered, although, i'm a little hurt that you haven't accepted my request yet."
there's a pout on gojo's face as you stare him down, grumbling incoherently before you take your phone out from your back pocket. you can hear him giggling as you open up instagram, and you waste no time before pulling up your follow requests and turning your phone towards him. he raises an eyebrow when you smile, watching as your finger hovers over the "accept" button before you switch and press "decline".
"there, now you don't have to keep thinking about it," you say, watching as gojo's face falls at your actions. you stand up before he can say anything else, pocketing your phone and grabbing your wallet before glancing at shoko. "i'm gonna go get a bottle of water. do you want anything?"
shoko shakes her head, and you simply hum before turning to leave, freezing when you heard gojo speak once again. "i should head out too, it's probably in my best interest to leave before you come back with water. you know, in case you spill it on me again."
gojo's shit-eating grin only widens when shoko can't hold back her laughter, causing you to send them both a withering glare. you stomp off with an angry huff, and gojo can hear you muttering under your breath as he watches you walk all the way down the hall. he doesn't look away until you turn a corner, only then turning to face shoko, who has a skeptical look on her face. he gives her a knowing look, eyes pleading as he leans his head against her shoulder. "they're cute. really cute. can i get their number?"
"i'm not helping you," she says, snorting softly before digging through her backpack for her airpods. she manages to put one earbud in before gojo speaks again.
"i'll win them over," he states confidently, standing up and pushing his chair in. he gives shoko a kiss on the head before walking away, ignoring her as she laughs at his words.
"yeah, good luck with that."
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geto watches amusedly as you trudge into your shared chemistry class, not even bothering to greet him before slumping in your chair and resting your head on the desk.
"rough day?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in concern when you groan in response. he sits quietly as he observes you for a few seconds, and you sigh as you sit up, realizing that he's waiting for your answer.
"more like rough weekend," you finally say, eyeing him skeptically. "c'mon, don't tell me you haven't seen the video."
geto laughs at your words, his bangs swaying as he turns in his seat to fully face you. heat rises up in your cheeks as he gazes at you with a smile, and you fidget nervously as you try to keep your composure. it's no secret that geto suguru is attractive, and having his attention focused solely on you is almost too much to handle.
"i did, i just figured i'd save you the embarrassment and not bring it up."
"how considerate of you," you mutter, smiling softly before taking out your laptop.
"hey, do you have a pen i could borrow?" geto asks, searching through his backpack before sighing and putting it on the back of his chair. "i have a sneaking suspicion that my roommate stole mine."
"yeah, of course," you respond, rummaging through your pencil pouch before pulling out a sleek, black pen. "is this one fine?"
"that's perfect, thank you," geto says. before he can grab the pen, it's yanked out of your hand, and you look up to see gojo standing beside you.
"gojo," you greet dryly, trying to ignore the smirk on his face. "do you make it a habit to always snatch things out of people's hands?"
"i can't help it," he says with a laugh, pulling his sunglasses down slightly as he twirls the pen. "that irritated look you give me is so cute, i just can't resist!"
your face twists up in embarrassment, a huff leaves your lips before you reach up to snatch the pen back and hand it to geto. you refuse to look at gojo in fear of letting him see your expression as you settle into your seat, but a sudden thought has you turning to face him when you realize you had never seen in that class before.
"wait, why are you here?"
"i'm in this class, silly," gojo replies, reaching down to tap your nose the way shoko had earlier. you swat his hand away, your mouth twisting into a scowl as geto snorts.
"no you're not," you say, eyebrows furrowing as you give him a confused glance.
"yes i am."
"no, you're not."
"yes. i. am."
"then how come i've never seen you here before?" you ask, crossing your arms as you give him a smug look.
"well that's because—"
"good morning, class," yaga masamichi says, cutting off gojo's response as he walks in. the professor sets all his stuff down before turning on the projector, grabbing his laptop to set up the day's lesson. "today we will be going over new mechanisms so make sure you—"
yaga goes silent as his gaze lands on you, and you shuffle nervously as you wait for him to say something.
"gojo," yaga states, mouth pressed in a firm line as he stares at the white-haired boy. you sigh in relief when you realize his stare wasn't directed at you. "what a nice surprise. i never thought i'd see you here."
"ah, c'mon yaga," gojo replies, a charming smile on his face as he tucks his hands into his pockets. "i care about my studies. besides, it's not like i've skipped every single lesson."
"yes, you have," yaga says dryly, facial expression unchanging as silence engulfs the classroom. a minute passes before he let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand down his face before waving him off. "just take a seat, gojo. quickly, please."
gojo salutes yaga, giving him a cheeky grin before sauntering over to the seat directly behind geto. you do your best to ignore him throughout the lesson, dutifully taking notes and only glancing at him once when you bend down to grab your water bottle. you're caught off guard when you realize that gojo has been staring at you the entire time, pen in hand but notebook closed as he focuses on you instead of yaga. he shoots you a wink as soon as you meet his eyes, and you pretend not to notice before turning back around. geto doesn't miss the way you fight back a small smile.
you can feel gojo's eyes burning into you for the rest of the lesson.
the class ends with yaga announcing a new project, and you wait with bated breath as he reads off the list of partners he had prepared in advance. you can't stop the sigh of relief that comes out of you when you hear your name followed by geto's.
"so, your place or mine?" geto asks, gathering all his materials before placing them into his backpack. you open your mouth to reply before closing it quickly, your eyebrows furrowing as you think about the messy state your apartment is currently in. sensing your hesitance, geto chuckles, grabbing his backpack and standing up before speaking. "mine it is. i'll send you the address later and we can figure something out okay?"
"sounds good!" you respond, smiling sheepishly as you duck your head. you wave goodbye to geto, turning to hurry out of the classroom when you notice gojo approaching. "just text me and let me know!"
"so... they'll be coming over?" gojo asks, sidling up to geto as you walk off. his eyes never leave your form until you disappear from sight. he turns to geto with a smile, resting his head on geto's shoulder while pushing up his sunglasses to look at him. "say, can i get their number?"
"not a chance. just talk to them and ask," geto says, laughing at gojo's audacity before pushing him off and leaving the room.
gojo's left standing in the middle of all the desks, a small smile appearing on his face as he realizes that you'd be over at geto's apartment sometime soon. the very same apartment that he shares with gojo.
"gojo."
his train of thought is interrupted by yaga, who is standing near the door with his bag slung over his shoulder. all of his supplies have been packed up and he sports an annoyed expression as he looks at gojo.
"yes?"
"get out of my classroom."
"yessir!"
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it's been a couple of days since the project has been assigned, and other than gojo's sudden appearance in class, not much has happened. you still do your best to ignore his presence, focusing on yaga or even geto to try and remain oblivious to his persistent staring.
but you can't avoid him forever, that much is clear as the door to geto's apartment opens and you find yourself face to face with gojo satoru. your face remains blank as he greets you with a call of your name, merely watching him as he leans against the doorway and gives you a giddy grin.
"what a surprise to see you here!" gojo crows, head tilting down to give you a peek at his eyes. you find yourself looking away, refusing to interact with him as he pulls you inside.
"what are you doing here?" you finally ask, slipping your shoes off and taking a few steps back when you realize just how close to gojo you are. the hallway isn't that wide to begin with, and even pressed up against the opposite wall, you can feel him brushing up against you as he turns to close the door.
you look through your phone as you wait for geto, only looking up when you feel gojo step closer to you. you shrink into the wall behind you, tensing up when gojo's hand lands on the wall next to your head as he leans in, his other hand plucking your phone from your grasp. you look up at him as he fiddles with your phone, reaching for it and scowling when he holds it up out of reach. you never realized just how much taller than you he was.
you give up on trying to retrieve your phone, crossing your arms and leaning back as you choose to study him instead. you're reminded of the night at the party as you let your eyes trace his face, taking in the way his hair falls over his face and cast shadows that only seem to emphasize the color of his eyes. you're so distracted as you study his nose and lips that you completely miss the words he says.
"i live here. duh!"
there's a moment of silence as you keep your eyes on him, and you rapidly blink away your dazed expression when you see a teasing smirk on gojo's face.
"w-what?"
"i live here!" he repeats, holding out your phone. you take it from his grasp, inhaling sharply when he invades your personal space and points at your screen. "oh! also, i added myself into your contacts and made sure to send myself a message so that i have your number as well."
"you live here?" you ask dumbly, briefly looking down at your phone to see the message thread. you notice that gojo has saved his contact information under "satoru <3" and you make a mental note to change it later.
"yes. unfortunately, he does."
the two of you turn your heads to look at geto, who stands near the living room with his arms crossed. there's an amused smile on his face as he takes in the scene before him, and he smirks at gojo when he notices just how close to you he is.
a weak laugh leaves your lips as you shake your head, looking back and forth between gojo and geto. "of course he does. so you're telling me that the two of you are—"
"we're roommates."
"we're soulmates!"
"we are not," geto states, refuting gojo's claim.
"you're right," gojo concedes, letting his arm fall from the wall to rest around your shoulders. he pulls you into his side as you let out a surprised squeak, grinning down at you as he guides you further into the apartment. "actually, i think we're soulmates."
"we're really not," you mutter weakly, although geto notices that you seem to avoid gojo's gaze. you send him a pleading look, and geto simply shrugs before turning and heading into the kitchen.
"would you like something to drink?" he asks, opening the refrigerator and bending down to grab a couple of water bottles. his question goes unanswered as gojo leads you away from him, taking your backpack in one hand as he continues to speak. geto doesn't miss the panicked look you send his way and he closes the fridge with a chuckle as he follows after the two of you.
"i dunno," gojo says, placing your backpack down before waving his hand casually. "we meet at a party, you turn out to be friends with my childhood friends, we're in the same class, and on top of all that, you end up at my apartment after being randomly paired with my roommate. it's like fate is trying to tell us something!"
geto can't help but snort at gojo's hopeless attempt at flirting, earning a dirty look from his roommate. he doesn't think he's ever seen gojo try this hard to get someone's attention, and the only thing that makes the entire situation funnier is that despite your attraction to gojo, you seem determined to avoid interacting with him at all costs. geto wonders if it's because of the party incident.
"pardon the interruption, but we really have to work on that assignment" geto sayss, taking a seat on the couch and patting the spot next to him. he smiles warmly at you as you sit next to him, your thigh brushing against his as he sends gojo a smug look. gojo merely scowls in return, his eyes zeroing in on the casual touches between the two of you. "i'm not necessarily kicking you out, satoru, but i do ask for some peace and quiet while we work."
gojo gives geto a sarcastic thumbs up, smiling as he grabs the first book he sets his sights upon and takes a seat on the armchair across from you. he opens the book to a random page, pretending to read as he watches you and geto set up your work space. he ignores everything but you for the most part, averting his eyes and flipping a page of two whenever you glance up to meet his eyes.
"here you go."
you're thirty minutes into the project when gojo finally looks at geto, his eyes narrowing as he watches his best friend hand you an already open water bottle. geto meets gojo's gaze with a smirk as he leans back, his arm laying on the couch right behind you. if you settled into your seat any further, you'd have his arm around you.
"oh! thank you," you say, eyes wide in mild surprise when you realize the bottle is already open. you give geto a soft smile, taking a sip before he takes it back to close it. "you're so sweet, geto. i always have trouble opening those water bottles."
"it's really no problem," he replies, sending gojo a sly look as he opens your textbook. "anything for you."
gojo can't help the way he clenches his fist, the rustling of pages drawing your attention to him. you notice him glaring at geto, and you look at the death grip he has on his book before turning to give geto a confused look.
"what's wrong with him?" you whisper, leaning in close so gojo won't hear. geto holds back a laugh as he also leans in, amused at the fact that you're simply making his mission of making gojo jealous that much easier.
"i don't know. many things," geto confesses, his lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear. you breathe out a laugh in response, blinking rapidly when a strand of hair falls into your eye. "let me get that for you."
you look at geto as he tucks the piece of hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing the side of your face as he does so. he's closer to you than you thought and you take a moment to admire his features before smiling. "thanks, geto!"
"you're wel—"
geto's response is cut short as gojo slams his book onto the table. he proceeds to shoot geto a dirty look as he jumps out of his seat, storming out of the living room as he mutters something under his breath.
"now what's wrong with him?" you ask, eyebrows raised in disbelief as you hear him borderline slam his door shut. you turn back to geto when he starts laughing, the noise soft and quiet as he presses a hand to his mouth. he shifts away from you, shaking his head as he gives you a knowing look.
"you really don't know, do you?" he questions, crossing his arms as he studies you.
"know what?"
"that he likes you," geto reveals, unable to stop his laughter when he sees the shocked look on your face. your lips part in surprise as your eyebrows get even higher, and you can't help the way your gaze shift towards the armchair gojo had been sitting in before you school your expression back into one of disinterest.
"no he doesn't" you reply, shaking your head at geto. "he just likes being obnoxious!"
"i saw the two of you at the party, you know," geto confesses. "i was going outside to get gojo so we could head out but then i saw him speaking with you and well, take it from me, he was definitely trying to flirt with you."
you look at geto's face for a few seconds, laughing nervously when you realize he's telling the truth. "well he's shit at it, if we're being honest."
"i know," geto says solemnly. there's a brief pause before the two of you break out into giggles. "listen, i know he's obnoxious and annoying and irritating and he doesn't seem to have many redeeming qualities."
geto pauses as you laugh at his words.
"but," he continues, smiling fondly as he looks towards gojo's room. "he's a good guy. trust me, i've known him almost our entire lives. go talk to him."
there's hesitance in your steps as you walk down the hall. you turn to look at geto before you knock, being met with a thumbs up and a smile. you take a deep breath before knocking on the door, pulling your hand back when it swings open. gojo's eyes have barely met yours before he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you into his room before closing the door.
"what's up?" he asks casually, leaning against the wall as you take a look around. his room is clean, neatly laid out with an obscenely large bed and a polished, wooden desk facing his window. you take in all his posters and knick-knacks, smiling softly when you see a small figurine of a fluffy, white cat napping.
"is it true?" you ask, turning back around to face him. he avoids your gaze, and you realize that for once, he's not wearing his sunglasses.
"what is?"
you snort at his question, taking a step towards him and trying to catch his eye. there's a teasing smile on your face when he finally looks at you, and hold your hands behind your back as you get even closer. "that you like me?"
the silence seems to drag on for way too long, and you're contemplating walking out of gojo's room when he finally speaks.
"yes! okay, yeah, i think you're cute!" gojo proclaims, walking past you to take a seat on his bed. "i'll admit, at first i was annoyed because i thought you were someone who had come out to flirt with me and i just wanted to be alone but then you started talking and you were so easy to tease and you looked all cute when you got worked up and i couldn't help myself so i just kept making it worse!"
gojo pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "and you actually argued back and you didn't just let me talk to you like that and it was so refreshing because usually no one even tries to go against me and i just thought you were really pretty and i didn't want you to leave."
"what the actual fuck is wrong with you?" you ask, stifling a laugh as he shoots you an offended glare. "that's such a childish way to get someone's attention. has that ever actually worked for you?"
"well now that you mention it, no it hasn't," gojo admits, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "but then again, not a lot of people tend to reject me."
his sheepish tone lets you know he's not trying to be cocky, he's just stating a fact. you run a hand down your face in exasperation.
"well i couldn't even tell that you were flirting! you're so stupid," you state, rolling your eyes as he puts a hand up to his heart with a dramatic swoon. "you're lucky you're so cute."
gojo is up within seconds, approaching you quickly and placing his hands on your hips. he pulls you closer to him, and your hands go to his chest as you try and keep some sort of distance between the two of you. you look up to see him grinning at you, a faint blush staining his cheeks.
"so you think i'm cute?"
"shut up!" you groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest in an attempt to avoid his eyes. "you know you are."
gojo laughs at your mumbled words, one hand leaving your waist in order to hook a finger under your chin. he tilts your face up, chuckling when he sees the embarrassed look on your face.
"i do," he concedes, laughing when you scowl. "but it just feels so good to hear that coming from you."
you freeze when you see gojo glancing at your lips, and you feel your heart pounding as he draws closer and closer.
"gojo?" you say quietly, more of a call of attention than a question.
"satoru," he corrects, the single words now drawing your attention to his lips.
"satoru," you repeat dazedly, eyes fluttering shut as gojo's nose nudges yours. you draw in a shuddering breath, and gojo leans his forehead against yours as he waits for you to continue, his eyes slipping shut as well. he can feel your fingers grasping at his shirt, and he wonders if you can feel how hard his heart is beating. "i'm sorry. you know, for dumping my water all over you at that party."
gojo laughs, his nose bumping against yours once more as he does so. "that's okay. i know how you can make it up to me. if it's okay with you, of course."
you've barely breathed out a 'yes' before gojo's lips are pressed against yours. its a soft kiss, only lasting a few seconds before he pulls away. there's a moment where gojo looks at you, his eyes soft before his gaze drops to your lips once again. in an instant his hands have left your waist, choosing to cup your cheeks instead and bring you impossibly close to him as he goes in for another kiss. your fingers tighten around his shirt even more as your lips meet, trying to pull him closer as he deepens the kiss.
he guides you backwards until his knees hit his bedframe, causing him to take a seat. he pulls you down with him until you're sitting in his lap, and one hand leaves your face to pull you into his chest. his fingers burn as they stroke your cheek, and his gentle touch combined with the way his lips are moving against yours is almost enough to make you feel dizzy.
"sorry to interrupt!"
the two of you break away to see geto standing in the doorway, a surprised look on his face as he stares at the two of you.
"suguru!" gojo hisses, venom in his tone as he glares at his roommate. "get! out!"
"sorry, but we have a project to do that's worth 25% of our grade," geto says, not sounding very apologetic at all. in fact, the smug grin on his face tells you that he seems quite proud of himself in that moment.
"whatever," gojo mumbles, hiding his face in your shoulder to avoid looking at geto. "give us five minutes."
"how tragic that five minutes is all you need," geto says, not missing a beat. his response earns a laugh from you and gojo gives you a look of betrayal before flinging one of his many pillows at geto.
"get out!"
"okay, okay," geto says, holding his hands up in surrender as he backs away. "i know when i'm not wanted."
"clearly you don't," gojo mutters bitterly, causing geto to laugh loudly before he closes the door behind him. gojo's change in attitude is almost instant, and he turns to you with a smirk before pressing a kiss to your neck. "now where were we?"
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outside, geto smirks to himself as he takes out his phone, opening his messages to his previous conversation with shoko. he wastes no time in sending her the picture he had managed to capture before making his presence known, the image clearly showing you sitting on gojo's lap. it's less than a minute before his phones buzzes with notifications, and he finds himself chuckling at shoko's words.
new messages (3) from: shoko
omg! i didn't think he had the balls to actually do it i guess i'm happy for them or whatever. fucking finally.
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reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!
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lifetimeoftired · 1 month
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How to Adopt a Dead Kid in Three Weeks or Less (Part 2)
Part 1 || Part 2
As promised; part 2! I would like to apologize to Dick for the trauma I put him through, but honestly it was really fun for me. Also I love the idea of Danny actually trying to leave, but he keeps getting pulled back into family shenanigans because they decided 'mine now'.
Tag list: @tkiesai @sir-ghost-the-green @dreamingaboutsakuratrees @atinygracie @wolfeyedwitch Enjoy<3
Duke squints at the mop of black hair, just peeking out of the blanket. When did Tim get in last night? And really? A couch? He usually at least makes it to the batcave and sometimes even his actual room if he’s going to pass out. And what happened to his sneakers? They look weirdly worn and they’re tucked up under the couch instead of being put away properly. Alfred’s going to be really annoyed when he comes down and finds Tim like this. Duke considers walking away and leaving Dick and Tim to whatever the heck is going on here- it would serve Tim right for being so terrifying about his unhealthy sleep schedule. 
Yet, just as he’s going to walk away again, he notices that Dick’s not moving. He’s crouched there, staring at the sleeping Tim with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s… Unnerving.
“Dick? What’s wrong?”
“Tim’s not breathing.”
Is… Dick okay? The bags under his eyes aren’t as bad at Tim’s but he looks like he hasn’t slept. Duke can only stare blankly at him. Then at the has-to-be-sleeping Tim. Of course he’s just sleeping- it’s Tim! He consumes his weight in poison on a daily basis; there's no way he’s just gone. But the longer he looks at the should be sleeping form, the more Duke realizes the same thing Dick did. There’s no rise in the blanket. No accompanying fall to indicate that the body is breathing and alive. 
Panic wells up where his heart should be- having dug its way somewhere down near his stomach and was now useless beyond a frantic beating. Oh god oh god oh god- Bruce and Jason flash through his mind. Stephanie- Shit. 
“Tim- Tim wake up!” Unthinkingly, Duke grabs for him, unhearing of the noise Dick makes and- It’s only his bat training saves Duke from being flung head first into the wall. 
He twists, feet skidding along the floor and recovers in time to see Tim try to spring up from the couch. Dick snatches their brother mid-jump, and gets wrenched to the side so hard they flip over the back of the couch. Dick bends, ducks and rolls, ends up the other side with Tim in his lap getting the biggest cuddle of his life so easily in a feat that Duke would find impressive later when they all calmed down. 
“It’s us Timmy! Everything’s okay, you're safe.” Thankfully, Tim calms down pretty quickly and waits for his brother to get done with his bear hug.
It’s odd though. Tim doesn’t usually sleep if he’s in a bad enough way to freak out like that. Sure there’s a long list of cases that are ongoing right now, but that usually means so much caffeine Duke can feel his liver cringe in horror. Oh well, the only way to get answers is for their resident caffeine addict to talk, Duke knows he can only wait until their certified Older Brother™ gets it all out of his system.
Duke plunks down with a sigh, and grunts when he lands on something lumpy. Something that turns out to be a ratty old backpack that looked spiritually connected to those cranky old war veterans you see on sitcoms. Was it for a case? Tim’s not exactly a stereotypical rich guy (none of the Waynes were thank god), but any of them would have replaced this thing long before needing to duck tape the corners and shoulder straps like this. He looks over the couch to ask, maybe offer to help and hope Tim actually takes him up on it. But when he makes eye contact, the words die in his throat. Those are blue eyes (icy blue, wide, frozen in fear), and jet black hair (longer than Dick’s, stick up where he’d been nuzzled half to death, scruffy where he hadn’t, bangs styled forward in a way none of them had), but that’s most certainly /not/ Tim.
“Dick? That’s not Tim.” 
“What?”
Dick pulls away from the boy in his arms to get a better look at the wrong boy- Duke himself. Who quickly gestures back at the freaked out, curled up kid. This time, when Dick looks, it’s a much more proper look and notices all the reasons that’s not Tim.
“You’re not Tim.” Dick said stupidly. 
“I am not Tim!” The boy jazz hands awkwardly, his arms tucked close, and adds an even more awkward grin to puncture the statement. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think I’m him if that makes you feel any better.”
There’s a beat where none of them move, then Dick leans back with a long drawn-out groan. Before any questions can be asked, Dick ‘completely unnecessary acrobatics at any given time’ Greyson rocks them both back, laughing at the boy’s squeak, flips forward, and lands on his feet. Only then does he set not-Tim back on his feet with a friendly hair ruffle.
“What makes me feel better is that you’re okay. You gave us a bit of a scare there- I thought you weren’t breathing.” 
“I uh, y’know. Got a deep R.E.M. sleep?”
It’s a really dumb answer. Like, really dumb. It’s clear he never expected to be asked about whatever’s up with him and he doesn’t want to give a real answer. Moreover, it’s clear the backpack really is his because those clothes he’s wearing? Every bit as ratty. The shirt he’s wearing is less ‘white and orange’ and more ‘off white, suspiciously stained, and the logo is cracked to hell and back with very little indication of what it’s supposed to be’. Same with how many tears and faded stains are in the jeans. Also clear, from the way he angles himself, keeping both of them in view, that whoever he is, Duke knows better than he should about all the signs of a street kid.
“You guys weren’t kidding about Bruce’s adoption tendencies.” Duke quickly says. Distracting Dick so he won’t press too fast too soon and scare him off. The others (Jason excluded) are every bit as nosy as said serial adopter is paranoid and it can be a lot. Better to let the new kid acclimate to the manor so he’s not crawling out the window and disappearing into the night. Something Duke thought about doing every time things got to be too much. Which was no less than five times a day.
“I’m not being adopted!” When both Duke and Dick blink in surprise, not expecting the sheer amount of vitriol from Bruce’s latest, he winces and curls back in on himself. “I’m not staying, I mean. I didn’t even mean to wind up here- it just sorta, happened? In fact, I should probably get out of here. If you could just-” He makes a grab for the backpack, and Duke lets it go easily. “Thanks.”
“Hold on hold on-” Dick holds up his hands placatingly. “You haven’t even had breakfast yet! Alfred’s gonna be sad if you don’t join everyone.”
Dick gets a stare that says the kid thinks he’s insane- and Duke kinda can’t blame him. He also thought the Wayne’s were crazy. Because they were. For literally anyone else, random street kids they found pretty much dead on their couch weren’t usually invited to breakfast… At least their particular kind of crazy was nice.
“I know that that sounds, but Alfred really does love it when people appreciate his cooking. I’m Duke by the way.” Duke stands back up, holding out his hand with a smile. Seeing as not-Tim automatically shakes, he guesses the guy did have parents for the better part of his life. “Sorry for not introducing myself sooner.”
“... Danny.” 
Oh yes, a name really does make everything easier. Duke shakes Danny’s hand, and he even gives him a little smile.
“And everybody calls me Dick!”
“Well, people can be cruel.” 
Duke’s laugh desperately wants out both at Dick’s little puppy pout and Danny’s mortified expression, but he chokes it back very elegantly.
“You know, I’ve heard a lot of versions of that joke but somehow it always surprises me.” Dick says with a laugh, and another hair ruffle when Danny grumbles. “C’mon Danny. Let’s get some food in you, you can tell us how you met the old man. Then we get you some new clothes.”
“I like these just fine, thanks.”
“Sorry Danny,” Duke says apologetically. He’s been here long enough to know that stubborn glint in Dick’s eyes. He might insist he’s different than Bruce, and in many ways he is, but Dick’s mother henning is every bit as bad. “He’s going to pout and whine until you let him buy you something. Can we settle on a new backpack for now?”
It’s enough of a compromise for Danny to agree to be herded to breakfast. Bruce isn’t there, but Tim and Cass are. The real Tim is half asleep into his cereal (and grumbles about the bear hug he gets), and though Cass gives the new kid a curious look, she only stays long enough to grab an egg sandwich. Alfred is more than happy to put a big plate of the best food Duke knows he’ll ever eat in his life in front of Danny too- Much to his surprise. Did he really think Bruce would let him stay and not feed him? Hopefully he’d learn that Bruce was a pretty good guy after all and that he was safe here.
-
Over the course of the entire day, Duke learns a few more things about their new brother. 
For starters, Danny could eat. He was surprisingly good at hiding it too. Nibbling here and there and pretending he was eating slow and listening, but the second they pretended they weren’t paying attention, he’d stuff a good portion down his throat and refill his plate. Meaning he was able to eat almost four times the amount they would have reasonably expected out of a starving street kid while making it look like he wasn’t. It could only mean one thing; Duke knew he had to be a meta. No normal person could pull off either the speed or volume. 
The two other things he learned concurrently; That Danny was as accident-prone as he was kind.
Despite originally not really wanting to even go to the mall, with Dick’s good natured pestering and Duke mediating, they managed to convince Danny into not just the new backpack, but several new sets of clothes as well. In that time they saw him run into two separate doors- one of which broke his nose. His response? Crack it back into place and worry far more about the blood smear. Not even a few moments later, he was somehow roped into helping some little old lady carry her bags back to the front (they almost lost him there). Next, in the cafeteria, some unruly children knocked their tray and a good portion of it slapped Danny in the face. All he did was smile, clean himself off, and entertain the siblings with Dick’s help so their mom could take a small break and know nobody was in trouble. On the way out, Danny nearly got hit by an actual car helping some other shop-lifting street kids escape from the mall cop by pretending to trip in front of him. When the guy went tumbling into the street, Danny threw himself forward to push him out of the way of an oncoming car.
Getting back to the manor where Danny was moderately safer was a relief. It meant they could hand him off to a much more capable-of-dealing-with-this-crap Alfred and give Duke a moment alone to discuss things with Dick. The conversation went a little like;
“We need to make sure Danny is never on his own or he’s going to get himself killed. Meta or no meta. Agreed?”
“Agreed. I'll call the others.”
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jjenthusee · 2 months
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Handshakes And Trash Cans
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
a/n: simply, i wrote a lot and i didn’t wanna release it in parts, so i squeezed the entire fic here. I’ve been having fun writing small excerpts and then they turn into full fics. Jason deserves all the love, so i focused on a neighbors to lovers? No mention of vigilante stuff, but tons of domesticity. With some mentions of big brother Dick (i’m a firm believer that he’s the number one supporter of Jason and just wants the best for him), a bit of steaminess if u squint, and a very devoted Jason. leave me any comments if your comfortable sharing because i wanna know what u guys think XD and if you were crying screaming sliding down the wall like i was (also despite me still being in my repenting era, i wanted to release this as an early apology cause i wanna write another angsty drabble so maybe…maybe not look forward to that) ENJOY (link to the work before this one here)
word count: 7.1k
tags: pining, tons of fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, heartfelt confessions, big brother dick shenanigans
When you got your first two-bedroom apartment, you always thought the dream would only be possible with a roommate. You didn’t have much money during college and transitioning into a full-time job didn’t allow you to freely spend outside of necessities and rent.
But you did it. You got two bedrooms and you didn’t initially know what to do with the extra room. A hobby space, a library, a guest room, or an office? There were too many possibilities.
This was your space, so you combined it all. A basket to keep all of your current craft obsessions next to a bean bag, two full shelves of books from your childhood to your university years, and a desk in the corner to write. It was everything you hoped for. A spot to leave work out of, to decompress and remember the things that made you happy.
You were proud you did it on your own. You could enjoy solitude, your hard work and give time to prioritize yourself.
But an unexpected accomplishment came with an unexpected visitor. A handsome visitor no less. Maybe being an adult wasn’t so bad all the time.
But meeting new people was bad. Or you were bad at it.
When you were up at two in the morning, doing normal two a.m. activities like trying to turn your entire life around, you believed that dragging yourself to one of the community events at the apartment complex would help you get to know your neighbors. Then you could scope the scene to see if you wanted to hide forever or maybe have a friendly acquaintance you acknowledged in the hallway.
Now you wanted neither as you sat, alone, at a bar stool in the well decorated community balcony. Although you were distancing yourself from the main party, you couldn’t help admiring the string lights they hung up, the pristine décor, and new furniture. They clearly went through a grand renovation before you moved in.
Despite your need to socially decompress from all the small talk, you did feel mellow in the warm lighting, listening to the slow music you quietly hummed to.
The view was great from your table, you got to see from the edge of the balcony into the city view. Gotham City did have its moments and lots of outsiders tend to see all the bad that overruns it, but when the city is calm, it has its own virtue.
As you watched the sky line, a man also decided to join in, admiring the city lights. He stood farther from where you sat, leaning against the glass and steel railing. He was probably distancing himself from the party like you were. You could only see half of his face from your current angle and distance, but he was…charming. Broody and charming.
Gotham did have the best views, but staring was bad. A little bit of hope crept into your mind at the thought of a handsome neighbor living in the same apartment building.
Another pretty man joined him. Wow, you never realized that Gotham had a lot of great views. Maybe you needed to get out more, enjoy the scenery a bit.
The two beautiful men seemed to know each other. One more talkative than the other, but they seemed close. It was amusing watching the way they contrasted one another, a man clearly dragged to be here tonight and the other fueling himself with the night vibe.
As much as you wanted to continue to be nosy, maybe it was time to call it a night, it was late and you got enough of your pretty boy fill for the evening. Which would have been the plan if you didn’t make eye contact with the second model that blessed your eyes.
You nervously observed the charismatic man walking toward you with a bright friendly smile.
“Hello, I just wanted to ask if my brother—the tall very alone one standing over there—could be tall and very alone over here, in this seat.” He dragged the stool out from underneath the glass table you were resting your arms on.
You looked at the empty seat across from you, then glanced at his presumed brother you were staring at earlier. He clearly didn’t agree to this sudden turn of events as he watched the two of you talk and he looked more mortified than you were. It was…cute. It brought a smile to your face.
“Well, your tall and very alone brother looks scared of me.” You glanced back to the man still holding the chair out.
Your comment must have been hysterical at the way the man was almost leaning forward from laughing. His dimples fully visible and his hair falling forward. Everything he did looked stunning.
“I promise he’s friendlier than he looks.” He breathlessly held his stomach still amused at your first impression of his broody brother. “He’s tall, alone, and friendly if it helps.”
You thought for a moment, debating on your options: leave or sit with a handsome man in possibly awkward silence.
“I don’t mind being alone together.” You smiled more, giving into the curiosity of the man leaning against the railing.
You were a simple human and apparently the man in front of you was too when he ushered his brother over. A man much too large for the bar stool, but you got a good look at his full face.
The curls, defined dark eyebrows, a white streak. His face had definition, a particular beauty that differed from his brother. Not less beautiful, but you were more drawn to the rougher look.
You definitely made the right choice.
Before you had any time to say anything, the conspirator left to go mingle with another bunch of attendees. You watched him hop from one conversation to another, you didn’t know whether he knew them or he just met them like you had five seconds ago.
“I think social anxiety is scared of him.” You laughed in disbelief to your new companion.
“Trust me, you have no idea. I’ve seen him wear some of the most horrendous outfits in public, willingly. What’s worse is—I hate to admit it—but he can pull it off, in a horrifying way.” The stranger shook his head, no mortification in his voice, and you almost unconsciously lulled to the sound. “But he means well, uh, sorry he dragged you into whatever he’s planning. I could leave you alone, he tends to unintentionally be pushy.”
Oh? Broody, charming and thoughtful. Was the bar low or were you easily impressed? Maybe the husky voice is blurring the distinction.
“No, it’s okay, he seemed worried about both us being ‘very alone’ as he put it.” You spoke, glancing into the eyes of the man in front of you. Greenish blue. A wave of amusement washed over you and with the most serious expression you could muster, you decided to test the waters. “From one alone person to another, let’s be alone together.” You reached out your hand to introduce yourself.
He coyly smiled at your formal gesture, leaning in to mimic your movement. You were both leaning onto the glass table, close enough to see the slight scaring on his face. Faint enough to see them only if you were close enough, wanting to drag your thumb across them.
His warm hand engulfed yours. Calloused. A firm handshake.
“Jason, alone man, and been alone for twenty-one years.” Jason gave you the most breathtaking smile, never letting go of your hand. “I’m looking forward to this opportunity…alone, of course.”
You laughed, almost giggled from how charming this man was.
“It’s been twenty-three alone years and still counting.” You mischievously smirked, glad he joined in on your antics. “I’m glad to let you join the team. I expect great things from you.”
“And I hope to learn a lot from my superiors, I’ll be in your care.” Jason’s voice was so low at the end of his statement. It caught you off guard that you almost missed the way he held onto your hand just a tiny bit longer than you anticipated. So short that you felt like you imagined it.
The warmth still lingered on your hands after you let go.
You were so engrossed in Jason’s company and Jason only had the eyes to look at you, that neither of you could see the man, who schemed your interaction, was beaming from watching the connection spark.
That single handshake and nonchalant agreement that you shared with an unknown neighbor actually kept it’s promise. That evening, you found out that Jason lived on the same floor as you did, that his brother visited him a lot, and he took out the trash on Wednesdays.
He didn’t tell you the last one, but you found out the last bit of information by accident when you bumped into him on your way back from the trash room. You thought the evening you met Jason would be the first and last time you would see him, but your laziness prevented you from taking out the garbage on your designated day and you were graced with seeing his lopsided smile as you passed him in the hallway.
You were so giddy from the surprise and seeing Jason’s captivating smile, you tested your luck and took the trash out on the same day and time the following week.
You listened out in the hallway, trying to hear a door open, it was honestly crazy behavior, but you continued your slow pace, but with no tall alone man in sight and a defeated sigh, you walked to the trash room with no Jason by your side and swung the door open.
Like a beam of light cascading over you, the man in question was standing in front of you, opening the trash shoot. You never thought a man in a trash room would be sexy, but with his shirt tightly straining on his body, a flushed face, and his muscles eye level with you, anything was possible.
May whoever told this gorgeous man to live at this apartment complex eat delicious meals, have working phone chargers, and a lifetime of happiness.
Somewhere off in the far distance, Dick sneezed.
You almost forgot the reason you were in the trash room after you set your eyes on Jason’s post-workout state. He kept the shoot open for you and with unsteady steps you threw your trash bag to disappear to the unknown. You were trying to not trip up with Jason’s defined arm holding the handle open and the close proximity of his chest to your face.
Maybe you need to go on a run. Why were you acting like this right now?
“Hey, neighbor.” Jason casually spoke to you. His voice felt airy, probably winding down from the exercise. “You come around here often?”
You cleared your mind from any thoughts, the trash room was not the place to start flirting, but what were you supposed to do when Jason started it? Or what you assumed to be flirtatious conversation.
“Nah, I’m new to town.” You glanced over to him, leaning your neck back to grasp his full height. Jason hadn’t missed the movement, combing your collarbone with his gaze. “But, I might stay a while.” You melodically spoke.
Before your stare and voice settled in the air, you stepped to the side to add a little distance between the two of you. Pulling away from the tension.
“Just so I can continue my alone things.” You explained trying to smoothen the mood with a playful tone.
Jason stayed quiet like he was contemplating something in his mind. Then he let the trash shoot close and with small steps the both of you walked out into the hallway.
“What alone things do you have planned tomorrow?” Jason nonchalantly asked, so casually you almost thought you heard wrong.
“Uh, work in the morning, but nothing planned for the evening, I wanted to try out a new cookie recipe.”
“Do you wanna come over to my place—I wanted to cook something for dinner, but it just hasn’t worked out yet. Maybe you can bring those cookies?” Jason didn’t look at you, suddenly interested in the pure white walls of the hallway. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
You were stunned. How was such a beautiful man asking you to come over to his place with the promise of him cooking you dinner and all you had to do was bring your shitty cookies?
“I want to warn you that my cookies aren’t award worthy. I just follow the recipe, they’re nothing special.” You wanted to ensure that Jason was really inviting you over.
“Then I can’t wait to try your ‘nothing special’ cookies.” He reassured.
You spent the entire afternoon making sure your measurements were precise, not a lump of flour above the rim of the measuring utensils you haven’t brought out in a while. Usually you winged the ingredients, not really worried about the quality too much since it was just you.
But now you wanted to cry.
How did you properly fold ingredients, were you whisking right, maybe you should’ve got the too expensive butter from the store?
It took three full hours to prep, bake, and try your hand at cutely packaging the cookies. It took four attempts to arrange the cookies in a way that didn’t make you want to cancel the dinner.
But after a few pep talks in the mirror and reassuring yourself that this was a hang out and not a date, then you were able to walk over to his unit number.
You hesitantly knocked on the door, five minutes after seven because you would torture yourself thinking about arriving right on the dot before you fell asleep tonight and every night after.
Your worries left your mind when you saw Jason open the door in an apron.
“You’re just in time, I’m ready to plate everything.” He beamed.
Your heart might not be able to survive tonight. But it was just dinner.
You awkwardly handed Jason your tin of homemade cookies. You tried to limit your snooping around his apartment when he told you to wait for him to get the drinks, but curiosity was coursing through you once you realized that you were being invited into a part of Jason’s life and home.
You were no longer going to be strangers. You didn’t know if this qualified to make you friends, but you knew you were two people about to eat dinner together. A dinner he made and cookies you made as thanks.
Once you were ready to eat, you stared at your plate filled with spices, fresh veggies, a meticulously cooked entrée and a…homemade lemonade? You stared up at Jason, watching you look at his food.
“I feel like bringing you cookies isn’t enough.” Although you felt guilty, you took a bite because you didn’t want to look at one more second of Jason’s shining eyes.
You could only sigh, which made Jason worry.
“I think I’m going to name my children after you.”
Jason chuckled at your exaggeration.
“I’d be honored.”
The rest of the meal was relaxing. You didn’t have to force yourself around Jason. Your conversation flowed easily and you were interested in learning about the man you met on the balcony.
After many trips to the other side of the apartment building and a couple of deep cleanings of your apartment, you got accustomed to having Jason walk around your kitchen, rummaging the cabinets and organizing your spices the way he likes it.
One shared meal after another. Sometimes several times a week or spaced out further when work got busy. It was nice to look forward to a meal with Jason.
Now you had text messages from him on your phone, a designated mug for him, and a couple of his snacks that he wanted you to try.
You traded recipes. Jason gave you his favorites and you mainly just gave him ones you were curious about, not very fond of your kitchen.
After several failed attempts at convincing him that it was your kitchen that was the problem and not your ability to cook, he came over more to prove you wrong.
Now you sat at your kitchen island to watch him concentrate on mixing an assortment of spices and herbs while you memorized as much of his face and hands as possible. The TV was on, but you had no interest in whatever movie played.
“I have a confession to make.” You sadly looked at Jason.
He glanced over from the pan on the stove to your face. Confusion in his eyes from your sudden change in tone.
“I actually don’t really like cookies.” You threw your hands up in a guilty pose. “Now it’s eating me inside that I had to give those to you when I first came over to your place.”
Jason hummed and tilted his head with one of his eyebrows raised in a teasing manner.
“So, the guilt finally got to you, huh?” He grinned moving his attention back to the food cooking in front of him. His nonchalant voice resonating around you.
“I can’t sleep at night anymore.” You exaggerated, walking a little closer to his side. “Well, once you became my personal chef I realized I had to make it up to you.” You could smell the food better now that you were standing next to Jason.
“I can see the guilt in your eyes.” He flatly said watching you eyeing the food.
“We always eat when we hang out and I can make simple foods, but if I can follow a recipe I was going to suggest if I should cook something, but you are also here to prove me wrong that my kitchen isn’t cursed. Which it is by the way—”
“Your kitchen is not cursed.” He warmly scolded you. “I’ll come over everyday to prove it if I have to.”
You always had to reset your brain when he used that tone with you. It just felt too…sincere. Too intimate.
You wanted him to come over everyday. You took a breath.
“I make more money than when I was still in college, but I don’t think I can afford that many grocery bills.” You teased him. “Why do you think I go over to your place?”
You wanted to evade any serious topics and humor was the best at evading. You were good at avoidance.
“So, I’m a free pantry to you?” His eyebrows rose, questioning you. “I knew you were using me!” He faked a flabbergasted voice like he just heard his life-long partner declare they were cheating on him for months.
He turned off the stove, covering the pan with the lid and turning to face you.
“I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.” You gave him your best dejected look. “I promise I’ll pick up more shifts to help restock your fridge, but let me just taste your homemade ravioli one last time.” You begged as he moved closer to you, closing you in with the kitchen island behind your back.
His height and broad shoulders easily caved you in. You gulped watching his face lean down and inch closer.
“If I can’t trust you with my fridge, you don’t deserve my ravioli.” He lowered his voice, gazing down at you with a look that made you breathless. You couldn’t move with the counter behind you and Jason hovering dangerously close to you. “But, you can make it up to me.” He brought his thumb to your chin, barely a wisp of touch.
“How?” You stammered, wondering if the bit was still going.
“Let’s go to the farmer’s market tomorrow.” His hand moved from your face to the edge of the counter, close enough to touch your side and his voice returning to normal, but he didn’t pull away.
“Okay, uh, I’m off tomorrow.” You stared, darting your eyes between Jason’s eyes. Trying to adjust to the tension that was radiating off of him.
“Good, foods ready.” Jason pulled away, moving to the cabinet to grab your glass plates. He was too familiar with the layout of your kitchen.
That night you quickly learned how easy Jason was able to turn the tables. Your racing heart and shallow breathing were the only evidence of it ever happening.
The heat beat down on you. Of all days for Gotham to finally clear it’s clouds, it chose today.
Although you weren’t fond of the warm air, you liked watching all the colorful tents, the food on display, and seeing the various local products. Everything looked intricately cared for and it brought a proud feeling to contribute to the locals.
“Bags?” Jason asked, going through his mental checklist.
“Check.” You raised the reusable grocery bags in your hands.
“Hats?”
“Check.” You nudged the baseball cap on your head.
“Money?” Jason smirked.
You grabbed onto Jason’s bicep. Giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Check.” You grinned up at Jason looking at the placement of your hand. “Now let’s go!” You gleefully led him to the first tent with your hand still on him.
You had no idea how you ended up carrying all the bags, but you were trying to ease your mind that this could be considered a date. Jason didn’t call it that and you never asked to clarify, but you couldn’t help it itching at your brain.
You didn’t want to label anything, out of respect for Jason and what he wanted, but you noticed he had started to touch you more and the contact makes you giddy that you had to put all of your focus on making sure you don’t drop his produce.
You stood by Jason, looking at various jars of loose leaf tea. He was smelling all the aromas, helping to move the jars to your nose, so you could smell them too. He insisted on helping you since you refused to give him a bag, but you also didn’t have a free hand to grab the jar.
After a couple more sniff tests, he settled on a jar of prickly pear tea, a lemon-ginger flavor, and he was contemplating on some earl grey cookies. You were watching him, entranced by his concentration. His brows lowered, a small line appearing between his brows. You could see more of his face with a cap on, no messy curls on his forehead and his side profile was really something.
You broke out of your trance when he offered you a piece of the earl-grey cookie, holding it in front of your mouth.
“They’re free samples, try it.” He looked at you, waiting patiently. “I know you don’t like cookies, but these are made with the tea sold here. I saw all the tea you keep in your pantry, so I think you would like it.”
In your lost state at this man in front of you, that could’ve sounded like a proposal to you at that point.
You inched forward, opening your mouth for the cookie. You hesitated at the intimacy, but how could you tell that face ‘no.’ Staring at the small piece of cookie, baked a quarter of the original size they sold, you also saw all the scars that littered Jason’s hands. Many healed over, but you could see the faded lines.
You dangerously wanted to kiss each one.
You grabbed the piece in your mouth, but you didn’t realize that you accidentally touched Jason’s finger with your lip.
You quickly glanced at Jason, but his eyes were glossed over. His attention focused on your mouth.
What a sight.
You chewed and hummed. They were good. Jason cleared his throat at your approval.
“I’ll get a bag and the tea. I’ll be back. You can put the bags down for a bit because there’s a small line.” He quickly turned around, a small tinge of redness left on his ears with his head turned away from you.
You watched his back walk away, then settled the bags down to give your arms a break.
“Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that you two are adorable.” A honeyed voice spoke trying to grab your attention.
Your head whipped back to the table of teas. An older lady restocking the various collection had a mischievous look in her eye. You hadn’t noticed her there at all.
“The way your boyfriend looks at you, I haven’t seen a look like that since my husband passed many years ago.” The lady gushed.
“Wha, no, I—“ You stammered, trying to clear up the confusion, but your flustered face must’ve amused the woman.
“That made my day, so I wanted to give you this lemon bar we just started selling. Go on, take it and share it with him.” She pressured you to take the free treat. You were too speechless to try to refuse it and insist that you pay before she placed it in your hand herself and she walked off to help another customer wanting a sample.
Your face felt hot and you hoped it cleared before Jason came back, but before you could fan the redness away he appeared next to you with his purchase.
“Hey, you okay? Where’d you get that lemon—”
“Let’s get some lunch!” You grabbed the bags and nudged him to the food trucks lining the edge of the market, trying to hide your face with your hat and leaving the comments from the woman behind.
“Wow, this might be the best empanada I’ve ever had.” You chomped at your lunch.
Jason found a waffle place and settled on a berry topping. It was wrapped perfectly to fit in his hands.
You sat across from Jason at an outdoor table with an umbrella to shield you from the sun, sitting away from the rush of people lining up to also eat. The midday lunch rush got to you and you wanted to have a bit of privacy before you went back home.
“How long have you known about this place?” You asked Jason, a slight breeze grazing your face. Watching a kid nudging his dad for a piece of banana bread he found on one of the vendor’s tables.
“Last year? It was recent, but I’ve heard it’s been around for a while. Maybe over five years?” Jason took a bite of his waffle.
“I wish I had found this during my university years. This is a bit out of the way of my walk route, but it would’ve been awesome to browse with my friend.” You saw the boy you were watching earlier smiling wide as he held his dad’s hand and the banana loaf as big as his head. You smiled at the interaction.
“But I probably would’ve sent my friend into shock.” You continued, the boy and his dad disappearing into the crowd. “I wasn’t very social during my university years.” You glanced at Jason, his waffle gone and he was neatly folding the wrapper.
“My friend would joke that I would only meet someone if they magically met me at home. Like that was the only way I could score a date.” You pitifully joked at the old memory. “Sounds absurd doesn’t it, but she wasn’t wrong—“
You saw a shift in Jason’s eyes. He had an oddly serious look, it stopped you from talking and you sat up straighter, wondering what he was thinking about.
You waited, watching him internally fight with whatever he wanted to say.
“That’s not true.” He hesitated. “You’re funny, you’re able to connect with others, you’re a great listener, and you’re honest. You don’t have the heart to be mean to others and your facial expressions are adorable.” His voice rose the longer he defended you. His serious expression further amplified with his furrowed eyebrows. A part of his face obscured by his cap, but you felt the raw emotion emanating from him.
“Anyone would be enamored with you, even if they met you in the hallway or walking down the street.” He puffed, crushing the waffle paper on the table.
You were surprised, glancing over at Jason, watching him get this frustrated. You realized you’ve never seen him this…emotional and he refused to look at you.
The sudden development and his clear thoughts about you stunned you. You joked with Jason how alone you both were, it even brought you together thanks to his brother, but you didn’t really know how alone he truly was. You don’t think he really understood how lonely you were too.
You enjoyed your shared meals, you craved his time and attention.
You got so used to his presence that the days you didn’t see him, you felt like you were dreaming. Waiting to wake up when you heard that familiar knock on your door.
Your heart raced and you hoped he cherished your time together like you did.
You didn’t want to assume his witty personality as being flirtatious, you didn’t want to misunderstand any of his intentions because he was funny, charming, and awkward in ways that you just wanted to grab his face and protect him.
You didn’t particularly need Jason as your person, that felt too selfish, but you also wanted to be somebody to him. Either next to him or from a distance.
A friend, a companion, a lover. The label didn’t really matter to you because you were open to any role. A lover wasn’t more significant than a friend would be. They both had the same foundation, to care for someone unconditionally.
You convinced yourself that you were happy alone, but not until recently you realized you weren’t living. You were asleep in the routine of life.
And when Jason entered your life, you felt like you woke up for the first time.
Like he was the only one who could wake you up.
All you knew was that you wanted to be there. Through his pain, his suffering, his happiest moments, his accomplishments, his anger. To be his person.
To also help him wake up.
Your silent contemplation made Jason panic.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up—“
“I think apartment community events count.” You softly whispered, indecisive of whether you wanted him to hear you or not.
“What—“
“And secret meetings in the trash room too.” Your voice meek.
You were shaking, too tense to look at his reaction to your words.
“Despite what she told me, I still managed to meet you. And I was able to have some of the best meals. I’ve never laughed as hard as I have when we joked. I’m able to try new things.” You raised your head, overwhelmed by your feelings, but you hoped to convey yourself properly to Jason. ��I’ve never felt so comfortable and safe with anyone else.”
Jason looked at you wide eyed and speechless, his mouth slightly agape. You took the disbelief as a sign to continue.
“I’m able to be all those things that you said because I’m with you.” Your voice filled with more resolve the more concrete your feelings felt, the more sure you became. You squeezed your eyebrows together, complete sincerity in your gaze, your heart filled with so much emotion.
But your eyebrows relaxed once you saw Jason’s face turn red. His ears a crimson shade. Before you could engrave it in your memory, he tilted his head down, covering his face with the front of his baseball cap.
“Wait, wait, wait—I didn’t expect this.” Jason rubbed a hand down his face, but the redness contrasted the skin of his hand. “You were so shy every time I tried to push the boundaries between us, but now your directly confessing everything at once.”
He stopped rubbing his face and rested his hand on the table. Meeting your gaze, a tint of red still on his skin but not as deep as before.
“I’ve been trying to get closer to you. I’ve been hoping to run into you since we first talked on the balcony. When we met in the trash room, I purposely tried to meet you again. I’ve looked forward to every meal I’ve cooked for you and although I haven’t been clear about my feelings, I didn’t want to pressure or rush you.” Jason took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
When they opened again, his eyes were completely focused on you.
“I want us to be more than friends…I want to be able to come over when I miss you, fold laundry together, buy you things when they remind me of you, I want you to call me when you need car maintenance.” He kept his eyes trained on you, but his voice faltered. “I want to hold your hand and to kiss you. I want us to go on dates.”
You raised your hand to the table, placing your hand over Jason’s, but he quickly flipped your hands so he was holding yours a little more firmly.
“I want to know if you snore while you sleep, to have your things at my place, so I see you in every inch of my life. I want you to know how much I’ve fallen for you.”
“I want that too.” Your voice trembled. “I’ve been wanting to hold your hand while we walked today and I want you to come over more often.” You choked as Jason leaned in to caress your face with his hand. A sickening sweet touch that you never knew you would get to feel. You cupped your hand over his.
“I’m so happy. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” Jason whispered to you, his voice so honey sweet.
You looked up to him. A gentle gaze reflecting back.
“I probably look like a mess right now.” You shakily laughed.
“Of course not, you’re breathtaking, sweetheart.” Jason rubbed a thumb on your cheek, completely enamored by you.
“As much as I would love to hear you continue, I’m worried about the stuff you bought and this heat.” You tried to focus, but the smooth touch of Jason was difficult to ignore.
“Yeah, we probably need to make our way back.”
Despite his words, he didn’t move. He lingered on your face a while longer before he looked at all the bags he accumulated this morning.
“Will you let me help you carry some of the bags?” He asked. “I also want to hold your hand on the way back.”
You beamed at him. Reaching for his hand as you stood up.
Your walk back was refreshing.
You were exhausted from the intense flux of emotions you released, but Jason’s grip on your hand stabilized you.
You couldn’t stop smiling, the heat no longer bothering you. You swung your interlaced hands to the motion of your steps and Jason let you do what you wanted as long as you still held on.
When you got to the entrance of your apartment building, you were graced with the AC hitting you. Your hair would definitely be messed up from the sweat and your cap.
You waited in front of the elevator doors as it descended from the last person that used it. The lobby was empty, except from the usual leasing office workers inhabiting the space, but it was just you and Jason off to the side.
As you glanced around, making sure the employees were occupied, you used your grip on Jason’s hand to pull him down enough for you to kiss his cheek. A little awkward with your cap in the way, but you were able to surprise Jason.
He stayed hunched forward, shifting his face to look at you closely and digest what you did.
Ding. The elevator doors opened and you pulled Jason in the elevator.
You felt accomplished as you pushed the button to your floor. When you moved back to Jason’s side, you looked up to him, but he grabbed your face.
His hand pushed your cap up, so he could lean in and kiss you. His hat also moving up at the angle he was in.
You closed your eyes, disoriented at the feeling and because Jason completely blocked your view of the elevator, so you only heard the doors close.
Lost in the feeling and the movement of his lips, you dropped the bags in your hand to grab at Jason’s sleeve, wanting to grasp at something.
You’ve never felt so desperate to get Jason even closer and he must have understood or he craved it more because he pushed you back against the elevator wall. You felt the cold metal against your back and you gasped.
Jason devoured the sound, motivating him to hold your waist, but it wasn’t enough for him. He crouched a little lower to grasp you behind your legs to lift you fully off the ground, inching your body up, higher and more level with his face.
The angle changed and you easily wrapped your arms around his neck while simultaneously wrapping your legs around his waist. The moment intensifying as you pulled at his hair below his hat and you swallowed the low groan that left his mouth. You were drawn to the deep sound and the feeling of the hum you felt on your mouth.
You were practically flush against his body and you were down to your last few breaths, but you didn’t want to pull your face away from Jason.
You nipped at his lower lip and he lifted his hands to cup the sides of your face, digging his fingers into your sweaty hair and rubbing the back of your ears. You opened your mouth wanting to feel more of him when you heard someone loudly clear their throat.
You pulled away, shoving Jason by his shoulders as he whipped his head to see where the voice came from. You fell to your feet trying to lean against the wall with the sudden motion, hair a mess with your cap lopsided as you looked past Jason to see Dick standing there with a hand on his waist and the other holding the elevator door open. He didn’t look at the two of you directly, more like a lost look to the side.
You breathlessly adjusted your cap as you frantically smoothed out your shirt.
Jason pulled his cap down as he sighed then redirected his attention to you, gently reaching out to you to smooth out some of your hair and help you stand up straighter. Then he grabbed the bags you both dropped on the floor as he turned around to face his brother.
“I didn’t know you were coming over. You should’ve texted.” Jason walked past his brother, annoyance laced in his voice.
“I did.” Dick replied. He looked at you then followed after Jason. “But it seems you were a little occupied.” Amusement coating his voice and visible in the way he walked.
“I see you’re getting to know your neighbors very well.” Dick teased, a giant grin on his face. “I’m glad.”
What a way to meet Jason’s brother again after all this time. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you away from the lack of awareness you had to make out with Jason in public.
You couldn’t decide if it was worse that a stranger could’ve saw you or that Dick was the one who did.
“Yeah, yeah, come inside.” Jason unlocked the door to his apartment. You nervously followed after the two.
“No seriously, I’m glad you two continued to see each other.” A genuine comment from Dick. “I’ve never seen you so comfortable with someone, Jaybird.”
A small hum from Jason as he set the bags down onto the counter.
With no indication that he wanted to speak further, you decided to talk.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting again like this. I promise I’m usually a better influence.” Hopefully your lighthearted tone would give off a better impression than the one on the elevator.
“Ha! I know you are because,” Dick moved in closer, lowering his voice. “This is the most behaved I’ve seen Jason in months.”
“Alright, enough, dickwa—Dick,” Jason cleared his throat. “But we just got back and I want to shower. It was too damn hot today.”
“Oh, I bet it was—“
“Thank you! Never come by again. See you. Good Night.” Jason raised his voice, shoving his brother out the door.
“No, please, I swear I’m done!” Dick pleaded as he was trying to hang onto the door frame, but Jason closed the door before he could start to beg.
“Are you sure he’ll be alright?” You questioned Jason.
He didn’t bother to answer your question as he closed the space between you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and letting his hands intertwine around your waist, falling onto your lower back.
Jason signed into your shirt. The feeling slightly tickling you.
“I wasn’t done earlier.” He whispered against you. “Then that dickhead had to interrupt.”
You laughed, loving the pouty sound of his voice.
You embraced him back, leaning your head against his.
“I think the elevator interrupted you.” You rubbed his back in soothing circles.
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting a silence fall in Jason’s apartment before your curiosity got to you.
“Jaybird?”
“It’s a nickname.”
“It’s cute.”
“Enough about him, we need to put away all the stuff we bought.” Jason lifted his head to sullenly look at the numerous bags.
“That reminds me.” You let go of him to dig around the bags, trying to find your earlier gift. “I was told to share this with you by an older woman who thought my boyfriend was adorable.”
Jason shifted behind you. Closing his hands on the edges of the counter, both of his arms on your sides. Once you found the lemon bar, you turned your body, careful to lean against the counter with Jason’s body still in front of you, around you practically.
“It’s a new product. She said I could have it for making her day, but I have to thank you because we wouldn’t have gotten it without you.”
You opened the wrapper, breaking a piece off to feed to Jason.
“How does it taste?”
Jason lingered. You anticipated what he thought, but he leaned forward to kiss you. You held onto the lemon bar, but lowered it the more heated your kiss became. The tangy taste invading your mouth.
“Amazing.”
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zi-uu · 5 months
Text
Thinking about poly! SatoSugu dates...
Gojo's Choice:
Gojo begging to go to a new bakery that opened, and of course you and Geto agreed- who are you to deny the ocean blue puppy dog eyes Gojo always gives when he wants something
Gojo ordering one of everything on the menu, promising to share (he won't)
You and Geto ordering an extra water, knowing that Gojo will be complaining about being thirsty after eating so many sweets
The look of adoration on your face as you watch the two argue over the coffee jelly, the only sweet Geto would actually enjoy
The buzz of the bakery mixed with the light banter of your loves brings peace to your mind as you hum in delight
Geto and Gojo, unknowingly to you, watch you out of the corner of their eyes. Small smiles grace their face as they watch you stare out the window, deep in thought (about them)
Geto's Choice:
Geto loves the calm of the ocean and it comes in and out of the shore, reminding him of every breath, keeping him grounded
Geto watches from the chairs you had set up prior, watching as Gojo playfully throws you into the water
Running from Gojo, you reach Geto, begging him to save you from the tall, white haired man hot on your tail
Geto never forgets to bring snacks and drinks, knowing how exhausted each of you will get
Sitting, watching the sunset as each of you eat your snacks in a quiet bliss, your head on Geto's shoulder and Gojo's in your lap
Geto always looks forward to these days, knowing he can be himself and reset after a long week
Your Choice:
Shopping trips with these two are chaotic, filled with a mix of laughter and shenanigans
Gojo has to try on every silly hat you come by, an album on your phone solely dedicated to Gojo wearing them (with the occasional group photo of all of you wearing one)
Geto is designated bag holder, he gets upset if you try and help him. (He believes it is his duty as your loving partner)
You and Gojo putting on mini fashion shows for Geto, and eventually picking out clothes for him to try on as well
Finding subtle ways to match your outfits- matching colors, designs, or styles
Secretly buying the three of you matching necklaces, reminders that even when you are apart, you are always close to each others hearts
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princessbrunette · 3 months
Note
okay what if it’s just been a long day of hanging out with the pogues and both bunny and puppy are lent up and need it, and puppy is usually on top but she’s super tired and bunny takes the lead this time :)
-👑
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🐇 ྀི 🐾 ♡
each time bunny glides her puffy cunt up against pups, the two girls let out a harmony of groans— their clothes discarded across the bed, a kaleidoscope of pastel pinks and blues.
it had been a long day. first of all john b came to get them way too early, sending jj to climb up to the window when they wouldn’t answer the door because they were too busy sleeping. he was shoving clothes over their heads and throwing them out the door by 8AM to hop on the boat to the other side of the island. after that, it was shenanigan after shenanigan — and didn’t stop until they were safely back in bunny’s glamorous bedroom.
“need t’shower, you smell like sunscreen.” bunny giggles against puppy’s neck between moans, leaning forward as puppy hungrily opens her mouth, tiredly trying to catch her girlfriends tit in her mouth.
“mm, too sleepy!” pup throws her head back, wanting to complain but enjoying the feeling of being grinded on too much.
“cant get in my bed if you’re stinky.” bunny sighs, sitting back up and rolling her hips, looking down at the way their pudgy clits kiss eachother. “s’okay, you can cum first. wanna make you cum.” she groans, speeding up the roll of her hips making puppy pant like a real dog.
“m’gonna!” she whines, and her girlfriend puts on a real show — grabbing at her own tits, knowing the other girl usually enjoys to watch. concentrating, pup keeps her eyes screwed shut, breathing hard and fast as she tries to reach orgasm. bunny leans forward, pressing her chest to her lovers, blowing gently on her face, the scent of her lipgloss lingering as puppy’s eyes flutter open.
“wanna look at you. missed you pup.” bunny pouts and pup furrows her brows, nodding as she sits up on her elbows, rutting up against bun.
“‘kay. love you.”
“love you too. now let’s cum, wanna make a big mess!”
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🐇 ྀི 🐾 ♡
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
Text
HR thought it’d be a good idea to handcuff you and Ghost together as a team-building exercise. It wasn’t. Or was it?
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,345 (approx. 5-6 min reading time)
Notes:
Fluff and the typical shenanigans
Warnings: language, suggestive content
For @ddiamondsdancing, who inspired me through her story
More of these.
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He secures one end of the handcuffs to your wrist and adjusts them.
“Is it okay?” He asks.
“It’s beautiful, Lieutenant, you shouldn’t have,” you reply and flick your wrist.
He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and rolls his eyes.
“I mean, does it hurt?”
He’s one of the most feared men on the base, yet he worries about hurting you. That’s… new.
You twist the handcuff, and he advises against fidgeting too much, asking you to let him know if it hurts so he can readjust it.
“No, it doesn’t hurt,” you finally say.
“Good,” he responds and clicks the other end of the handcuff to his wrist, “shall we get going?”
You nod.
Things have started changing around the base since HR got their hands on your superiors. They switched their focus away from resorting to punishment and toward more effective ways of communication.
That was all good and fun until Captain Price and the other higher-ups decided that this training shouldn’t be limited to them alone. They believed that everyone at the base could benefit from the same approach.
And here comes today, where you find yourself assigned to Ghost as a buddy with a pair of handcuffs—key not included—and instructed to spend the entire day helping each other. Or torment. Whichever comes first. Or more naturally.
He starts walking, but his strides are so broad that you get dragged along.
“Can you—” you struggle to find the words while keeping up, “can you chill for a second?”
He stops in his tracks, which causes you to bump into his back. You look at him, annoyed, and he stares down at you.
“You need to slow your pace, Lieutenant.”
“You need to pick up yours.”
“I can’t lengthen my strides,” you explain, “but you can shorten yours.”
He looks down at his boots briefly and lets out a sharp chuckle. You wonder what’s going through his mind. He turns his feet outward like a ballerina and starts taking little steps forward.
“Are you mocking me, Lieutenant?” you ask.
“Do you walk like that?” he asks back.
“No.”
“Then no, I’m not mocking you,” he replies, although you can hear the amusement in his voice. He stops and turns to face you.
“Go on,” he says, gesturing with his head for you to move to the front, “you take the lead, and I’ll adjust my walk.”
The rest of the day wasn’t easy, but it was manageable.
You went to the training room, where you had to do the same exercises simultaneously and adjust to each other’s pace to get work done, except in some cases where the Lieutenant wanted to put in more reps. So you sat on the ground, cross-legged, with your hand attached to his, and waited until he finished his push-ups.
“Ready to hit the showers with me, Lieutenant?” You tease and anticipate his reaction.
He stands up and helps you off the ground.
“From bonding to bondage...” He says, and you immediately get flustered. You weren’t expecting this kind of reaction, that’s for sure.
“Tempting offer, soldier,” he says in a flirtatious tone, “but first, you have to tell me...”
He pauses and seizes you, looking at you from head to toe. Your heart beats so fast in your chest that you can feel your pulse in your throat and head.
“...how are you going to remove your shirt?” He asks and shakes your handcuffed hands.
Good question. But you won’t let logic, or Ghost, take hold of you now.
“When there is a will, there is a way, sir,” you reply. “I can cut through it.”
“And what about putting another shirt on afterwards?” he adds, raising an eyebrow. “Will you be sewing one back on?”
You sigh and roll your eyes. “Always with the logistics, aren’t you?”
“Someone has to think ahead,” he explains, pulling you gently to keep moving, “just in case we have to explain to HR why we’re both handcuffed and naked.”
Touché.
You organised the warehouse for your next task, and the handcuffs forced you to communicate and collaborate more closely than ever before. Navigating through the cluttered aisles and shelves became a shared challenge. You relied on each other’s strengths to find the best way forward. Every movement had to be coordinated, and every decision was made together.
Even when you wanted to take a break and have a snack, he helped you by holding up your water bottle while you munched on your sandwich. It was as if the handcuffs became a synonym for unity and teamwork rather than restraint and suppression. You had to trust each other’s judgement and, by combining your resourcefulness, turn every obstacle into an opportunity.
Up until you had to pee.
“Can’t you hold it in?”
“Until the end of the day?” You ask, squeezing your legs together, “No way, Lt., sorry. I—we have to go now.”
“No wonder why,” he snaps and pulls you with him, “you drank the entire water bottle.”
“It was you who fed me the entire water bottle,” you snap back and follow him to the toilets. “You were squeezing too much water in my mouth—that’s why it went empty.”
You approach the bathroom stall and squeeze into one of the cubicles. Ghost looks away to allow you some privacy.
“Sir?” You ask, and he turns halfway.
“I need your hand; I mean my hand to unzip my pants.”
He lets out a long exhale and relaxes his arm, so you can use it as you wish. With his hand very close to your zip, you pull down your pants and squat.
But nothing’s coming out. You need more privacy, and unfortunately, under these circumstances, you had none. How didn’t HR think of that? The HR, of all the departments!
“You done?” He asks with his head facing the door.
“I haven’t started yet,” you explain. “I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable.”
“A couple of hours ago, you wanted to shower together, but now you’re uncomfortable peeing in my presence?”
“That’s different, Ghost; I think you know that.”
And, as if things weren’t awkward enough, someone knocks on your bathroom door. Ghost lifts his heels and peeks from the top of the door. He instinctively turns halfway to talk to you, but you kick him to look in front.
“It’s Janet from HR,” he jokingly tells you. “Want to say hi?”
“What the hell, Ghost?” You whisper, “Shut up.”
He chuckles and then turns to face her.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he apologises, “you’re going to have to find another loo; we’re trying to pee in this one.”
You glance at Ghost’s back, and your face flushes with embarrassment.
“We’re... experiencing a tiny issue, Janet,” you explain, “the handcuffs, you see...”
Before you can finish your explanation, Ghost interrupts you.
“It’s a team-building exercise, Janet!” He says in a threatening tone while peeking at Janet, who’s hurrying out of the bathroom, “We’re exploring new levels of trust and communication; ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU FUCKERS WANTED US TO DO?”
“GHOST!” You shout.
“What?” he asks, acting innocent. “They should have considered the consequences before implementing stupid shit.”
“Speaking of shit...”
“Don’t tell me you have to do that as well,” he says, throwing his head back. “We’re going to stay here forever.”
“No,” you reply, “I’m done—your feud with Janet helped me.”
With Ghost’s help, you zip up your pants, wash your hands—all four of them—and head to Price’s office, where you’re about to report how the team-building exercise went. In return, you will receive the key to your handcuffs.
You stand at the captain’s door with several other soldiers, handcuffed in pairs.
“I’ll miss you, Lt.,” you whisper, “my other half.”
He chuckles and shakes his head.
“No, really,” you continue, “who will I have now to unzip my pants when I want to pee and squeeze the fucking ocean in my mouth when I want water.”
“Don’t worry,” he replies, “I’m sure you’ll find another poor soul to torture.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“No,” he says, taking your hand discreetly and interlocking your fingers in his, “not one bit.”
———————————————————————
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hanafubukki · 1 year
Text
Imagine you were actually transported to the past. After dealing with all the shenanigans of time traveling and people who don’t believe you. You finally get them to trust you and you form relationships with these figures from the past.
You get to know Malleus’ parents. You get to meet Malleus’ grandmother before the burdens of history left its effects on her.
You met Baul Zigvolt, and of course, you could tell where Sebek got his interesting qualities from.
Then there’s General Lilia, he was the same from the version you met in Lilia’s dreams, if not a bit more arrogant.
All the same, you met and eventually befriended them. Knowing in time, you will eventually return to your own but at least you’ll have these precious memories with you that you can share.
Imagine one day, you are walking down the castle’s halls with General Lilia. Recounting some events from your time, nothing that would change history of course.
You lovingly recall your loved ones’ faces and how they’ll react when you share your adventures with them. You don’t notice the face General Lilia is making.
You’re smiling fondly to yourself when you were suddenly pulled to a stop.
A hand had grabbed yours.
It was Lilia who had stopped you, not yours exactly at least not yet, but someone who will eventually be yours. The frustrated look on his face surprised you.
“Can’t I also become yours?”
Oh.
The look that you gave him then had his eyes widening, and for an instance he understood what his future self saw in you. Why he fell in love with you.
“You have always been mine as I have always been yours.”
You watched as the Lilia in front of you simply raised your hand and kissed the finger where your ring sat.
The ring that designated that you were truly and always will be his.
A future that he could look forward to.
————
Extra:
“Where did you learn that move?”
“It was something I saw Levan do. It seemed to make Mallenoa giddy and annoying.”
You laughed as the General rolled his eyes.
3K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 10 months
Note
hello, i hope youre good !
may you please write one day about y/n sending hot pics for satoru ?
sorry if I spoke something wrong, english isnt my first language :] take ur time and have a good day ! 💞
Your english is perfect ml, please enjoy! <3
Contains: fem reader, established relationship, sending nudes, phone sex, mutual masturbation, he talks you through it, praise, DIRTY TALK
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"I don't know Shoko.. I've never sent him anything like this before." You groaned into your pillow, your voice through the phone coming out muffled on her end. "But you want to right?" She pushed, making you raise your head up from the sheets and sigh, "I doooo." You huffed out begrudgingly. "Great! Problem solved, the pictures you sent me were hot, but not too revealing, so you can send him something like that for starters." She replied, making you blush at her compliment.
You had recently bought a new set when you went out with Shoko for a girl's day. You had practically ripped the bag in half when you got home so you could get it on your body faster. Once you had on the garment you were posing left and right, making sure to take some sensual pictures for yourself later. Your boyfriend; Satoru; had texted you in the midst of your shenanigans, telling you how he was on his lunch break, making an idea pop into your head.
You wanted to show your man how good you looked, but thinking about sending Satoru; or anyone for that matter; nudes? That made you a little nervous. You quickly dialed up Shoko, she always knew just what to say, she was your hypewoman after all. After a quick convo she had successsfully pushed you in the direction you truly wanted; that being sending your boyfriend risque pictures while he was at work.
"Let me know how it goes, see ya." Shoko's voice echoed through the phone speaker before the tone indicating the call had ended rang through the room. You took a deep breath and rotated yourself on your bed, flopping your back against the pillows, still dressed in the pretty set, while you scrolled through the pictures you had taken-- trying to pick your favorites.
You settled on three for starters, it was an easy pick, only taking you a couple minutes to assess the best ones for Satoru. The first one you were on your side, body laid across the floor sensually as your arm rested on your hip, giving the viewer's eyes full access to your body. In the second picture, you were on your knees, you had placed your phone on the ground and set it to a timer so you could lean forward, making your thighs crease at the top, as you used to squeeze your breasts together.
The last photo was your favorite. You were sat on the floor, your legs folded and spread, the sheerness of the panties leaving little to the imagination in the lighting, while your hand once again rested against your tit, pushing and groping it in your hand while the other took a picture in the mirror, your phone covering most of you face save for a sliver of a smile that peeked out the side of the phone.
Your heart was racing, you knew Satoru would like the pictures, and you're pretty sure he would find you attractive in a trash bag, but you digressed, opening the chat to your lover.
Satoru <3: finally on lunch, yaga brought donuts today!
The picture attached was of the white-haired man laying back in his chair as he held his shirt up over his stomach to reveal his somehow still toned, but bloated tummy, an empty donut box in the background. Something told you that the donuts might've been for the kids, but Yaga should've known that bringing sweets around Satoru without anything for him was a recipe for disaster.
You laughed to yourself as you shook your head before responding. The two of you bantered back and forth about the subject for a while before he asked you what you were up to right now, which gave you the perfect excuse to send him the pictures. After sending an ominous 'you wanna see?' text, you clicked on the three gold medal winning pictures and sent them his way. You bit your lip between your teeth as you watched the blue bar at the top of the screen slowly slide across it, indicating it was sending.
Seconds before the pictures had been successfully sent, Satoru had started typing back his own response, which made you nervous because it meant he was in the chat and would see the photos sooner. Which is what you wanted, yes, but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.
When the little ‘delivered’ popped up underneath your pictures, quickly followed by a ‘read’ you held your breath. The three dots that indicated his typing stopped, then started, then stopped again. Uncertainty filled your body, did he not like the pictures? Was he mad you sent them while he was working?
You were snapped out of your stupor when your phone started vibrating in your hand, Satoru’s contact picture and name lighting up the phone as it rang. You quickly answered his call, readying yourself to apologize for being out of line, but before you could do so you heard a loud drawn out groan resonate from the speaker.
“You’re such a tease.” He pouted on the other side of the line, “I only have 5 minutes left on my lunch break and you just made me so fucking hard.” He groaned, making you sigh in relief as you registered his words. “I’m sorry Satoru, I felt pretty and wanted you to see,” you faux apologized, biting your lip as you looked around your room.
“And you do look so fucking pretty baby, that’s the problem.” He sighed, spinning himself around in his chair while he stared down at his erect cock that was tenting up his pants. He looked over at the large clock on his wall, which he mainly used for decoration, before sighing into the receiver. "Thank you, Satoru," You blushed. "I was going to send them when you texted me that you were on your lunch but our conversation wasn't really.. in that mood" You explained.
You heard his signature laugh from the other end, "Baby, I don't care if I just told you the school got attacked by a hoard of curses, if you have sexy pictures to show me you better not keep them from me." You rolled your eyes, you both knew he was exaggerating and you would never do such a thing, but his words made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside still. "Sorry Satoru, is it too late to tell you that I took more than the ones I sent you?" You giggled, biting your lip when you heard him groan in response.
"Fuckk, please send me those pictures baby~" He wined, reaching over to his wireless headphones as he popped onto into his ear so he could still hear you while he oggled your pictures, he wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation after all. You were one step ahead of them, the delivered notification once again popped up on your screen as you sent him three more pictures, all more risque than the last.
In one your back was arched in the mirror, showing off the pretty decoration on the back of the panties. Another, you completely abandoned the bra of the set, leaving the panties on as you covered your nipples with your fingers, and one of the same vein of you holding the phone over your body while you lay on the bed, your arm squishing your tits in the bra together while it cupped over your panty-less cunt.
"Oh you're trying to kill me, look at that fucking arch." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand as he took in the photos. "Baby you look so cute in that last one." He complimented, making you blush and giggle as you whispered out your thanks to him. He looked over to the clock once more, it was a couple minutes over the time he was supposed to be back and teaching the kids, but he figured if he was already late, what was a couple more minutes?
"Answer that," Satoru instructed, referring to the FaceTime request that popped up on your phone from him. You accepted it quickly, pulling your phone from your ear as you slid the green button over, smiling fondly when his flushed face popped into view. "You're so handsome, Satoru." You complimented, feeling your stomach start to tie itself in knots with how debauched he looked from just looking at the pictures you sent him, he was so clearly aroused.
"Oh shit, you still have it on?" He said, biting his lip as he set his phone down on the desk in front of him, giving you a full veiw of his body as he leaned back once more and startaed rubbing himself over his slacks. "Satoru what are you doing?" You asked with a laugh, surely it had been longer than five minutes now, he needed to get back to teaching. "Shh baby, they wont miss me for a couple more minutes ill make it quick." You imediately picked up on what he was insinuating.
"Look at how hard I am baby, I can't go out there looking like this." He wined, tipping his head to the side against his chair as he looked at you with a pout. "You're gonna take care of me too right?" You asked, giggling before you set up your own phone on your bed, using some pillows to stabilize it. The white-haired man scoffed before he started unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, "Can't believe you just asked me that." He said, semi-faux offense plastering itself on his face, "Was there ever a time I've left you unsatisfied?" He asked, slapping his cock against his free hand when it was finally unobstructed from his too-tight pants.
You sat back on your heels and started massaging your tits in your hands, making the warmth in your stomach grow as you pretended to think, looking around the room as you hummed. "Oh, so you already forgot how I made you cum in under a minute before work yesterday morning?" He said confidently, beginning to stroke himself as he watched you push your covered tits together. "I barely have to touch you and you're a squirming mess, dont play with me." He huffed out a laugh, bringing his other hand down to massage his balls in his hand, really giving you a show.
"But you're not here right now, Satoru." You retorted, sliding one of your hands down your body slowly, making your way down to your cunt. "Maybe not, but just my words are making you all wet, huh?" He asked knowingly, pulling his lip between his teeth as he watched you tease yourself. You nodded, making him coo at you as you finally made it to your cunt as you started to rub small circles over your clit.
"Get comfortable for me baby, keep the set on." He instructed. You lay back against the pillows and spread your legs. The crotch of the panties had a little patch over your entrance that he couldn't see through, but every other part of the fabric was almost completely sheer, except for the fact that your wetness was seeping through them little by little and making them see through the more you teased yourself.
"Play with your nipples while you rub yourself baby." He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet as he was in his office. "This is so dirty." You giggled, following his instructions. You rubbed small circles against your panty-clad clit while you pinched your nipple through the fabric of the unpadded bra.
The two of you have tried many things sexually throughout the entirety of your relationship together, but somehow, have never thought of getting off together over the phone. When Satoru was gone on missions the two of you would send dirty messages back and forth, saying how bad you missed each other, but nothing to this extent. This was opening a whole new world for the both of you, and it would be something you would definitely do again.
"Good fucking girl. Goddd, what I wouldn't give to bend you over right now and fuck you into the bed." He groaned, his strokes picking up pace while he watched your body jerk and twitch under your ministrations. "Yeah?" You encouraged, rubbing yourself faster and harder as your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for him to fill you up.
"Yes baby, want you to fuck yourself back on my cock too, wanna watch your little pussy swallow up my dick." He continued, rambling as the wet strokes on his dick emanated louder through the room. "Pull your panties aside and touch yourself, gotta see your pretty pussy." He grit through his teeth, as he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back in his had. You did as told, pulling the fabric aside you exposed your twitching clit and pulsing hole, a string of your arousal that connected to the panties failed to excape his eyes, making Satoru's cock twitch.
"Touch yourself, baby, pretend it's me touching you." He groaned, letting his jaw drop as he watched your fingers come in contact with the little bud, beginning to rub quick circles against it, just like he always does. "L-like this Toru?" You asked, needing him to praise you right now. "Just like that baby, doing so good for me, so fucking perfect." He groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he watched your smaller fingers work yourself through your orgasm.
"Shit, wanna feel your cunt squeezing me so bad, can see her twitching." He whined, making you blush in embarrassment at how exposed you were. Satoru's leg started bouncing against the floor at how fast he was working himself up. "P-please, fuck me Toru', fuck me-" You whimpered, getting lost in the sensation as you tipped your head back against the pillows and dropped your other hand down to the opening of your pussy, slowly sliding them inside your walls and starting up a blissful pace as you curled them up towards your sweet spot.
"Yes fuck your pussy for me, baby, yesyesyes." The man rambled, his back beginning to arch off the chair with how close he was. The squelching emitting from your cunt was going to send him over the edge, he so desperately wanted to pull your inadequate fingers out and lick them clean before he replaced them with his own. "Faster baby, cmon, get yourself there." He begged, slowing his strokes against his cock to let you get closer to your orgasm so the two of you could cum together. "I-I'm fuck S-satoru- Right there- right there-" You moaned, losing yourself in your fantasy as you fucked your fingers harder and deeper into yourself.
"Yeah? Right there? You like when I fuck you right there?" He slurred, clenching his teeth together as he picked up his pace once more, beginning to fuck his hips up into his hand. "Yes Toru- G-gonna- gonna cum-" You wined, your voice raising in pitch as you dropped your chin down to the screen in front of you, watching the show he was so kindly putting on for you as the sight pushed you over the edge.
"M-me too- Gonna fill you up cutie- fucking- take it-" Satoru groaned, hot ropes of cum spurting from his dick as his torso curled in slightly, his abs clenching and body jerking with the force of his orgasm. He watched intently as you snapped your legs shut around your hand, he saw the muscles in your forearm moving, praising you for working yourself through it as wave after wave of your high crashed over you. "Good girl, good fucking girl." He praised, slowing his strokes on his cock as he worked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
"S-shit" Your body relaxed against the sheets once more, your legs staying shut as you relished in the friction your closed thighs brought to your cunt as you came down from your orgasm. You heard your boyfriend giggle, dropping your knees down to the side you looked down at the screen and noticed that he was wiping his cock clean and tucking himself back into his pants. "Whew, 3 minutes, and I didn't even touch you." He praised himself, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him as you sat up to grab your phone in your hand and lay it against the side of the bed with you as you laid down.
"You could say the same for me too you know." you retorted, making him smirk. "Yeah, you could, made me make a huge fucking mess." He giggled, staring at you lovingly through the phone. "You look beautiful." He said, making hearts practically form in your eyes as you thanked him. "Clean yourself up before you fall asleep, I'll be home soon, okay?" He said, raising his eyebrows at you as he waited for your answer before he ended the call.
"Okay Satoru, hurry please." You added the two of you said your goodbyes, he blew you an animated-looking kiss before he hung up the call. You sighed, dropping your hand against the sheets as you smiled to yourself, you couldn't wait for him to get home.
After giving yourself a couple more seconds to lie there, you sat up, heading his words as you started to get yourself cleaned up. You paused in your ministrations when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up as Satoru's name popped up on the screen. You decided to check his message before you left for the bathroom, your jaw dropped and your body tensed when you opened his message.
There was a picture of Satoru's impressive-sized softening cock that rested on his hand, his length and hand alike covered in his cum with a message attached. When did he even have time to take that picture?
Satoru <3: Keep the set on till I get home please~
2K notes · View notes
matty-bear · 8 months
Text
The Elevator Game Gone Wrong [M.S]
Tumblr media
type: fic! 
pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: long , sfw , fluffy , paranormal activity , hint of getting an attachment (wink wink) , elevators , ritual run through 
summary: as you and the triplets join sam and colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in texas , the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game . little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence . 
notes: i HAD to write a fic based off the SnC x sturniolo collab . n when I found that the sam n colby made matt do this ritual , i knew i had to write a fic based off it :3 hope you guys enjoy reading part one ! be on the lookout for part two <3 
WC: 7098
PT2
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Is the red light really necessary?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches Sam turn on a large red light and set it behind the camera propped up in front of them. 
“It adds a more dramatic effect to the video.” Sam shrugs, taking a few steps back to check if the light is fine in the viewfinder. 
“Well it looks rather terrifying in here so good job guys.” You say, holding up two thumbs up as a small smile spreads across your lips. 
“We try.” Colby smiles, shrugging his shoulders a little before he leans back against his arms on his spot on the mattress. 
“You guys ready to start?” Sam asks as he adverts his gaze from the camera to you and the triplets. 
“We were born ready.” Chris replies, a determined expression clear on his face as he nods faintly. Sam takes a quick glance over at Colby and waits for the male to give him a thumbs up before turning back towards the camera. Without warning, a spew of random sounds spill out of Sam’s mouth as he waves his arms about. Colby follows suit with the random shenanigan and you and the triplets laugh softly at the two before their actions come to a quick halt. 
“It is ritual time.” Sam states as he clasps his hands together and glances over at all of you. 
“Yay.” Nick says, his voice monotone as he wipes his mouth with his hand. 
“Love the sound of that.” Matt comments, earning a small laugh from his two brothers. 
“We are going to do something that we’ve never done before on this channel.” Sam starts, his tone nothing but serious as Nick and Chris let out small shouts of excitement. “We are going to be doing something called The Elevator Game.” 
As Matt and Nick begin to clap softly, Chris speaks up. “That sounds like a very pleasing game to partake in.” The male jokes, earning a small snicker from you as you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter. 
“You guys said you love elevators, right?” 
“Big fans.” Nick replies with a small smile. 
“I hate elevators.” Matt states, his comment drawing laughter from the four other boys in the room.  
“Perfect!” As you take a quick glance over at Matt, Sam clears his throat for a moment before he continues, “That is very interesting because for this ritual, we need a singular volunteer.” 
As Sam slowly looks over and locks eyes with Matt, the rest of the boys look over at the middle triplet with large smiles visible on their lips. 
“Yes Matt!” Nick exclaims as he lightly nudges the said male's leg with his knee. 
Chris reaches behind you to land a singular hand on the older’s shoulder. “Do you wanna volunteer or should we just rule you in?” The male asks as he pats his brother’s back a few times. 
As you lean forward and take in a proper look at your boyfriend, a nervous expression can be seen clear as day on his face as he looks between all the boys in the room. You've known about Matt’s fear of elevators for a little while now. You knew the male would avoid them at all costs unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, the small mishap that occurred between him and Chris about a year or so ago was the reason why this fear of his became a thing. 
During the duration of filming the collaboration with Sam and Colby, yourself and the triplets often took the elevator to travel between the different floors of the hotel you guys were investigating in. Matt, not wanting to draw attention to himself, dragged himself to the elevator everytime you guys went to a different floor. He always stayed in the corner closest to the door, being ready to exit the moment anything suspicious started happening. 
Speaking of which, when the small malfunction in the elevator occurred when you guys and the tour guides went to go to a different floor and the elevator started acting up, you immediately picked up on Matt’s anxious behavior. When Sam mentioned that someone should step out to see if the same issue with the doors would happen, Matt immediately volunteered and practically ran out of the elevator and stayed outside for a little while until you guys sorted the situation out. 
You had a feeling that Sam and Colby would ask Matt to do this Elevator Ritual when he mentioned his strong dislike for elevators. You knew that your boyfriend would immediately decline because that’s one of his fears but you also knew that the male wouldn’t wanna pass this opportunity up and seem like a pussy. 
“I’ll go on the elevator.” Matt states, earning excited shouts from all the boys, more specifically Sam and Colby. You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend when he looks over at you. The male subtly takes your hand in his and squeezes your hand three times, signifying that he’ll be alright. 
“Face that fear, Matt.” Chris says as he gently claps his hands together, a proud smile visible on his lips. 
“So that means that Matt and I are going to go into the elevator and go through all 13 floors.” Sam says, his voice low as he looks over at the said male who sends him a little smile. 
“That sounds wonderful.” Nick comments as he nods his head and gently pats Matt’s knee. 
“Then you guys can stay in the lobby and be with-“ 
“Samantha!” Colby shouts, accidentally cutting the blonde off. 
“Yes, Daddy Driskill and Samantha will be accompanying you guys while we do the ritual.” Sam nods, earning excited shouts from Nick and Chris. 
“Yes! The big D!” Nick exclaims, excitement running through his veins as he claps a few times. 
“I am going to explain the rules of The Elevator Game now.” Sam says as he looks straight into the camera. “Now, since the game is a summoning ritual, it is said to, if it works, take us to another plane of existence. I don’t exactly know if that will happen but it’s worth a shot.” 
“Oh my God… That’s not terrifying at all.” Chris jokes as he lands a few playful pokes on Matt’s back. “You better be ready, kid.” 
“Also very important note, there is a chance that we may never come back.” Sam adds, earning shocked exclamations from you and the triplets.
“Isn’t that lovely.” You say as you subconsciously begin to trace circles on the back of Matt’s hand with your thumb. 
“Right? We might never come back.” 
“Chris, I think that’s a sign that you and I should get our license. Who the hell is gonna drive us around if Matt doesn’t come back?” Nick asks, leaning forwards a little to lock eyes with Chris. 
“Shit, you're right.” Chris mumbles, a single hand coming up to rub the side of his face. “Matt, please come back after you do the ritual. I really dont wanna have the responsibility of doing all the laundry.” 
“As long as you guys don’t jinx me, I'm sure I’ll be perfectly fine.” Matt reassures as he lands a soft hit to Chris’ back. 
“I agree with Matt. You guys can’t jinx us.” Sam says as he points a single finger towards all of you, causing you guys to all stick y’all’s hands up in defense. “Anyways, onto the rules.” The blonde digs in his pocket to fish his phone out. After unlocking the device, he pulls up the rules and instructions of the ritual. “So. We are going to have to push a series of buttons and make sure that no one else gets onto the elevator. If the whole place has 13 floors, which this hotel does, then it will summon something on the final floor. We will start in the lobby and go to four, two, six, back to two, ten, and then five. Five is the most haunted floor and the final bit of the ritual.” 
“I love the sound of this guys. I’m so excited.” Matt says, sarcasm laced in his tone as looks down at his lap and uses his free hand to ruffle his hair.
“Are you regretting volunteering?” Chris asks, a small laugh escaping him as he takes in the older’s stressed state. 
“Umm..” Matt starts as he lifts his head back up and looks ahead of him. “I’d rather it be me than you to be honest.” A unison of ‘oh!’s fill the room as Chris narrows his eyes at Matt. “I feel like you would just be better in the elevator than Chris would.” Matt adverts his statement to Nick as he reaches over to his left and lightly hits the older’s arm. 
“Alrighty then. I guess that makes sense.” Chris says as he rubs the slight stubble forming on his chin. 
“You just seem to be the person that’s less fit and prepared to do this.” Nick adds, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks over at the youngest triplet. As you stifle a laugh and cover your mouth, Chris’ jaw drops as a fake hurt expression spreads across his face. 
“We got some sibling banter over here.” Sam says to the camera as he juts his thumb towards the three brothers. “Anyways, back to the rules of the game. Once we reach the fifth floor, the door will obviously open and it is said that on this said floor, especially knowing that it's the most haunted floor, a female spirit will walk into the elevator with us. To end the ritual, we must press one and go back to where you guys are.” 
A few excited shouts fill the room as all the boys shake their fists. “However!” Sam exclaims, cutting off the shouting as he gently clasps his hands together. 
“Of course there’s a however.” Nick mumbles, earning a small laugh from Colby as the red-head crosses his arms over his abdomen. 
“Rituals can never be all cupcakes and rainbows, you know.” Sam says with a small smile before he diverts his attention back to the camera. “If the ritual is a success, the elevator won’t go to the lobby. It will go up and start ascending. If that happens, that means we’ve successfully summoned something into the elevator.” 
“Are you serious?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping his lips as he sends the blonde a shocked expression. 
“Is that when the chance of you guys not coming back comes into play?” You ask, a worried expression spreading across your face as you look up at Sam. 
“Yes.” The blonde replies, softly nodding his head as he turns around and locks eyes with you.
“Some Willy Wonka shit is gonna happen then.” Nick jokes, trying to lighten the tense mood filling the room. It seems to work as soft laughter comes from you and the rest of the boys. “We’re just gonna hear a loud crash as the elevator flies out of the hotel.” 
“We’re just gonna be flying into the oblivion.” Sam adds as he shoots his arm up to mimic the action of the elevator flying. 
“Yeah, I will not be very happy if that happens.” Matt points a finger at Sam as the latter laughs softly. “If I get stuck in this elevator, I feel bad for Sam. That’s all ima say.” 
“Awh.” Sam chuckles lightly as he brings a hand up to his chest. “Considering the amount of mishaps we’ve had with the elevator earlier, I really hope nothing bad happens.” 
“If shit goes down after we’re done with the ritual, you guys are gonna be next.” Matt points both his pointer fingers towards Nick and Chris who hurriedly shake their heads. 
“Let’s just hope you come back first.” Nick says as he lands a hand on Matt’s shoulder. 
“They will come back, don’t worry.” Colby reassures as he looks over at Sam and gently nods his head. 
“Well, we’ll never find that out if we don’t do it. So shall we get this ritual started?” Sam asks he turns towards all you guys, a large smile visible on his lips as he rubs his hands together. 
“Hell yeah!” Chris exclaims as he slips off the mattress. 
“Let’s all head to the lobby then.” As Sam walks up to the camera to shut it off, Nick and Colby follow Chris in exiting the room. After ensuring that the males leave and that Sam is busy with the camera, you look over at Matt who’s began to fiddle with the horse chain on his neck. 
“You really wanna do this?” You whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer to your boyfriend. 
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just an elevator, right?” Matt replies as he looks over at you. As he sends you a small smile, you gently nod your head and slip off the bed. You stick your hand out to Matt, who quickly takes it and allows you to pull him up to his feet. Before following Sam out the door, you land a quick kiss on Matt’s temple before guiding him out of the room. 
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
Upon arriving in the lobby, Sam and Colby begin to set up their equipment as you and the triplets patiently wait in front of the elevator. 
“Alright.” Sam begins as he adjusts his hold on the camera in his hand before turning it on. “Any thoughts before we start Matt?”
“Umm…” Matt starts as he begins to rock back and forth on his heels. “I have to say that the nausea I’ve been feeling for the past five minutes or so has increased significantly.” 
“You’ve been feeling nauseous?” Colby asks, adverting his focus from the camera in his hand to look over at Matt, a worried expression clear on his face as he glances over at Sam. The two ghost hunters share a worried look before Nick speaks up.
“We’ve all been feeling a little nauseous.” Nick begins as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I started feeling it when we sat down to eat, Matt started feeling it five minutes ago, y/n started feeling it when we were giving candy offerings to Samantha, and Chris felt it the second we got here.” 
“That doesn’t sound very good…” Sam says, his voice trailing off as he gestures Colby to grab something in the backpack. “Maybe we should sage you guys again before we start the ritual.” 
“Should we do it here or go outside?” Colby asks as he digs inside the backpack laying at his feet. 
“We can do it here.” Colby gently nods his head before bringing the sage out. He gestures you and the triplets to stand in a line before he quickly waves the sage around the four of you. “That should do it. If you guys keep feeling nauseous, we can take a break.” 
“We appreciate it guys.” You say with a small smile. 
“Of course. Safety comes first.” Sam says, earning a firm head nod from Colby. “Anyways, you ready to start?” Sam turns the camera to Matt and gently pats his shoulder a few times. 
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Matt replies with a gentle head nod. 
“Are you not gonna say goodbye to your siblings and girlfriend? You may never see them again if the ritual works.” Colby asks as he gestures towards you, Nick, and Chris. 
Matt turns around and sticks his arm out to Nick, who sends him a glare before hesitantly shaking his hand. 
“A hand shake?” Colby laughs softly as Nick wraps his arms around Matt and brings him in for a quick embrace. “See, that’s much better.” After pulling away, Chris and Matt share a firm handshake before also sharing a quick hug. 
“Okay, I’ll start googling places where we can get our licenses.” Nick says softly as he brings a hand up to rub his nape. 
“Dude, I’m not dead yet…” Matt says, a hurtful expression spreading across his face as he pulls away from Chris who smacks his chest a few times. 
“Yet.” Sam repeats, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watches Matt playfully shove Chris back. As the younger giggles softly, Matt turns to you, his gaze softening as he immediately brings you in for an embrace. Collective ‘awh’s come from all the boys when Matt lands a quick peck on your lips and forehead. 
“Leave your license behind before you go to another universe please.” Nick says, earning a rapid head nod from Chris. After pulling away from the hug, Matt shakes his head and digs in his pocket to pull out his wallet. As he wordlessly hands Nick his wallet, Chris comes up behind him and grabs both his shoulders. 
“I call dibs on that one jacket in your closet by the way.” Chris says, a large smile plastered on his lips as he massages the older’s shoulders. 
“Wonderful, alright. We’re all just claiming all my shit.” Matt says with a soft laugh. As the male turns to face you, he raises an eyebrow when he takes in your smiley face. “You too?” 
“I only want a few stuff.” You defend as you hold up your hand and pinch your pointer finger and thumb together. 
“Yeah, okay. Like that’s believable.” As Matt laughs and shakes his head gently, the sound of the elevator dinging causes all of you to quickly turn around. 
“What the fuck?” Colby mumbles, his face falling as he looks into the empty elevator. 
“Did you guys push anything?” Sam asks as he points a finger at you and the triplets. 
“No. Swear to God we didn’t.” Nick defends as he holds both his hands up. 
“It’s fucking midnight.” Colby states after his eyes scan over the numbers plastered on the top of his Lock Screen. He shows the camera his phone to ensure that he's telling the truth before turning the device to you and the rest of the boys. 
“I personally would not go in there.” Chris says as he wraps his arms around his torso, a nervous expression clear on his face. 
“Yeah, I wouldn’t either.” You add as you reach your hand out to grab Matt’s. 
“Well, we can’t back out now. It is twelve o’clock after all.” Sam says, a heavy exhale leaving his lips as he looks over at Colby, the two locking eyes for a moment. “I think that we should start this ritual before more weird shit happens.” 
“Please be careful.” You say, your voice firm as you look up at Matt. The male looks down at you and gently cups the side of your face with a single hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheek in hopes of calming your sudden anxiety spike. 
“We will, don’t worry.” Sam reassures as he begins to walk towards the elevator. He looks inside the small space for a moment, ensuring that nothing and no one is inside before he hesitantly steps in. “You coming?” 
Matt quickly shifts his gaze from you to Sam who’s standing at the back of the elevator. “Yeah, I'm coming.” Matt replies. Before the male enters the elevator, he bends down a little to capture his lips in yours. He pulls back after a few seconds and gently caresses your face before joining Sam in the elevator. 
“You two be safe.” Chris calls as he moves to take a stand in between you and Nick. 
“Yeah, come back please!” Nick adds as he subconsciously wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. 
“We’ll be back, promise.” Sam reassures as he sets a small device in the middle of the elevator. 
“Wait, I need photos for the prayer cards.” Nick states, a hand quickly digging in his pocket to fish his phone out. As he opens his camera and faces it towards Matt, the male holds up a small v, practically posing for the camera. You can’t help but giggle at the sight before Nick smiles proudly and puts his phone away. 
“Alright, we’re gonna start now guys.” Sam states as he walks up a few steps, his frame being inches away from the entrance of the elevator. After looking over at Matt and gaining a firm head nod from him, the two begin the ritual. 
“Please take us to another world.” Matt and Sam say in unison. The blonde reaches over to push a button to close the elevator and takes a few steps back to stand next to Matt. At the sight of the door closing, the male shouts out a small ‘oh god!’, a mix of fear and anxiousness filling his body as he eyes the door. 
“Matt, I love you have fun.” Nick says as he makes a small heart with both his hands. Matt sends the red-head a small smile before the doors finally close. 
“I really hope nothing bad happens.” Chris mumbles as he shakes his head slightly, nervousness bubbling in him as he stares at the closed elevator doors. 
“Me too.” Colby agrees as he forces his lips together in a straight line. The male momentarily turns his back to you and the two brothers to dig inside his backpack. After a few moments of searching, he pulls out two EMF readers and holds them out in front of him. “Which one of you guys would like to have the honors in holding one?” 
“I would love to have one.” Nick says, a small smile appearing on his lips as he bounces on his heels a few times. 
“Me too.” You add, landing a hand on Nick’s shoulder as the two of you step closer to Colby. The latter gently nods his head and hands the two of you an EMF reader. 
“Okay, how should we start this?” Colby asks as he leans his backpack against the wall and focuses the camera on you three. 
“We can start walking around to see if we get anything on the EMF readers.” You suggest with a small shrug. Colby nods his head at your suggestion and gestures for you and Nick to begin walking around with his hand. 
“Wait, didn’t the tour guide say that-“ 
“Your reader is going off!” Chris exclaims, accidentally cutting his older brother off as he points to the said device with his pointer finger. The youngest triplet seems to be correct as Nick looks down at the EMF reader in his hand and sees the device light up the first three levels. 
“You got anything yet y/n?” Colby asks as he zooms the lenses into Nick’s EMF reader to capture the activity. 
“Nope. Nothing yet.” You reply softly as you begin to walk a bit further away from the group, your eyes being locked onto the device in your hand the entire time. 
“The tour guide said that the bathroom is one of the most haunted places.” Nick states as he begins to gently wave the EMF reader about, trying to get it to spike up any further. “I think we should go see if we get any activity over there.” 
“Great idea, let’s head over there. Lead the way.” Colby gently nods his head towards Nick to encourage the male to lead the group to the bathrooms. The red-head complies and begins to walk towards a hallway a little ways to the right, the three of you following close behind him. 
“Let’s see…” Nick mumbles, more to himself than to anyone else. While you and the male walk around and inside the bathrooms, ya’ll don’t get much activity apart from a few spikes that went to yellow. 
“Let’s go back to the elevator. We’re not getting much.” You say as you walk out of the women’s bathroom, the door shutting behind you and coming in contact with the heels of your shoes. 
Colby nods his head and waits for Nick to return from the male’s bathroom before you guys walk back to the elevator. The moment you stand next to the elevator, your EMF reader spikes all the way to red. 
“Mine just went to red.” You say, your voice a little louder than usual to gain the attraction of the three males in the room. 
“Holy shit.” Colby mumbles as he quickly makes his way over to you. As he zooms his lens into the device in your hand, Nick and Chris come up to the other side of you and look down at your EMF reader. “Nick, you getting anything?” 
“Mines still at yellow.” The red-head replies, momentarily turning the reader so it can face the camera before he turns it back to face him. 
“Maybe we should pull out the onvoy and see if we get anything. You know, considering how much activity we’ve been getting around here already.” Colby suggests as he walks back to his backpack and pulls it open. 
“What’s that?” Chris asks, his head tilting slightly as he watches the ghost hunger pull a device out of his bag. 
“It’s basically a device that gives us yes or no responses through questions we ask.” Colby explains as he crouches down and sets the device on the floor. After turning it on and waiting for it to light up, he looks up at the three of you who are already intently looking at him. “Something just has to physically tap it like so for us to get a response.” Colby sets his pointer finger on the device for a moment and awaits for it to beep a few times and light up yes before he pulls away.
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.” You ponder aloud as you take a momentarily glance towards the EMF reader in your hand. 
“It’s not difficult whatsoever. Would you guys like to start asking some questions?” 
“Absolutely.” Chris replies with a small smile as the three of you take a seat around the onvoy. 
“If there are any spirits that would like to communicate with us tonight, please make yourself known by using this device to answer our questions. All you have to do is come up and touch it to let us know what your thoughts are.” Colby calls out, his head turning around a few times before he turns his focus back to you and the two brothers. 
“What should we ask first?” Nick asks gently, his eyes staying fixed on the EMF reader in his hand. 
“Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris asks, anxiousness laced in his tone as he practically stares down at the onvoy. A few beats of silence pass by before the device dings a few times. 
Colby lets out a small gasp of surprise at the sound and leans in close to the onvoy. “It says yes!” The male exclaims happily as he zooms the lens into the response. 
The moment the male reads that aloud, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts the four of you. Quickly, you all turn around and collectively let out sighs of relief as the doors open and reveal Sam and Matt. 
“You’re done already?” Nick asks, his mouth agape as he watches the two males step out of the elevator rather quickly. 
“Yeah, we practically flew through all the floors.” Matt replies, a small, proud smile visible on his lips as he approaches the four of you who are still sitting on the floor. When the male stands behind you, you quickly turn your body to face him, a large smile spreading across your lips, as you immediately reach for your boyfriend’s hand. As you caress it gently and bring his hand up to your lips to land a small kiss on his knuckles, Sam takes a stand next to him. 
“Did you guys get anything?” The blonde asks as he stashes the device him and Matt were using in the elevator in his pocket. 
“No.” Colby replies with a frown. “We literally asked a single question.” 
“Yeah, the one question I asked is ‘Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris adds as he gets himself up from the floor and dusts his pants off a little. “The moment it said yes, the door opened.” 
“It was crazy timing.” Nick comments as he follows suit in getting up off the floor. 
“Really?” Sam asks, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at Colby with pure shock in his face. 
“Really.” Nick confirms with a firm head nod. “We didn’t have time to ask a bunch of questions. Chris was the only person that got to ask a question.”
“Well, Sam and I encountered no issues while we were doing the ritual. We went through all the floors with ease. However, we didn’t really get anything with the device we were using. I mean, we did get a few words but I found them to be more random than anything.” 
“Yeah, that has got to be the fastest ritual we’ve ever experienced.” Colby comments, his head gently nodding as he looks between Sam and Matt. 
“It was pretty easy, nothing too difficult.” Matt says, his gaze falling to yours and his intertwined fingers. 
“Would you like to do it again then? But by yourself this time?” Sam inquires, a single eyebrow raising as he looks over at the brunette. 
Silence fills the lobby as you all stare at Matt, awaiting for his response. You manage to catch your boyfriend’s face falling slightly as he looks over at Sam, his eyes slightly wide as he locks eyes with him. Sensing the male’s sudden anxiety spike, you begin to play with his fingers in hopes of grounding him a little. 
Matt blinks hardly a few times as he looks down at you, his eyes basically pleading for you to answer the question for him. At the brunette’s gaze, you pick your free hand up and land a soft poke on his chest, signaling that it’s his call. You watch as the male sighs before he picks his head back up and looks up at his two brothers who shrug at him. Matt forces his lips together and looks over at Sam, his right hand coming up to his nape as he locks eyes with the blonde. 
“I would- I don’t-“ Matt sputters, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he digs in the pocket of his pants. “I’d have to write down the numbers…” 
“Is that a yes then?” Sam asks, excitement glossing over his eyes as he zooms the lens onto the male in front of him. After Matt gently nods his head in response, collective shouts of encouragement sounds from you and the boys. 
“You sure you wanna do it alone?” Chris asks as he walks up to the brunette, a single hand coming up to rest it on his brother's shoulder. “The chance of you never coming back is still there. You’ll be fully alone in another universe.” At the younger’s statement, Nick lands a harsh hit on Chris’s bicep, signaling him to shut up with an intense glare. 
“Well, you guys better start looking up ways to get me back if the ritual actually works.” Matt replies, a nervous smile overtaking his features as he begins to fiddle with the horse chain around his neck. 
Colby goes to add onto the conversation however, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts all six of you. You all turn around to face the elevator, fear running through y’all’s bodies at the sight of the doors opening more slower than usual. 
“I think that’s a sign, Matt.” Sam says as he lands a hand on the said male’s shoulder. 
“I guess I’ll go then. Could you text me the numbers?” Matt asks with a soft sigh. As Sam gently nods his head and fishes his phone out of his pocket, Colby walks up to the brunette. 
“You wanna take this camera?” The ghost hunter asks as he holds the said device out in front of him. 
“Sure.” Colby sends Matt a small smile when the male hesitantly takes the camera from him. 
“Matt, please be careful. Like I'm being so for real. I have no idea what we would do without you.” Nick says, a frown overtaking his features as he walks up the middle triplet and lands both his hands on his shoulders. 
“I will, don’t worry. If you guys focus on asking questions, I will be back in no time.” Matt reassures, a comforting smile spreading across his lips as he brings the red-head in for a quick embrace. 
“Wait, me too. I want a hug as well.” Chris whines as he quickly makes his way over to the three of you. Nick pulls away with a small eye roll and steps aside to allow the younger to get his hug. 
“I sent you the numbers. You can head in when you’re ready.” Sam says, his voice soft as he picks his head up and looks over at Matt, the hand that’s holding his phone digging inside his pocket to put the said device away. 
“Word.” Matt replies. After Chris breaks away from the hug and steps back, Matt looks over at you and takes in your worried features. “I promise I’ll be alright. I’ll be back in no time.” Your boyfriend gently cups your face with his free hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing over your soft skin. 
You gently nod your head, the faint frown on your lips not faltering as you look deep into your boyfriend’s blue irises that hold a sense of anxiousness. Matt brings your face closer to his to bring you in for a quick kiss. Before pulling away, he nibbles on your bottom lip for a moment. 
The brunette removes his hand from your face and gives you a small smile before he turns around to face Sam. “I’m ready.” The male says. 
“Alright, go ahead and step in.” Sam instructs as he gestures towards the open and empty elevator. Matt immediately does as instructed and hesitantly steps inside the elevator, a heavy sigh escaping him as he raises the hand that’s holding the camera. “You know what to say.” The blonde says with a smile as he gives the younger male a thumbs up with his free hand.  
Matt looks straight at the camera, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to drag over his slightly chapped lips momentarily, before he begins the ritual. “Please take me to another world. I may regret saying that but hey, see you guys later.” Matt takes a final glance at all of you standing a few steps away from the doors of the elevator before he steps toward the panel full of bottoms. 
“We love you Matt!” Chris exclaims, both his hands coming up to cup over his mouth to get his voice to project more loudly. 
“Be safe!” You add, sliding over to Nick and wrapping an arm around his. You manage to catch Matt waving goodbye before the doors of the elevator finally shut. 
“Guys, go subscribe to the Sturniolos.” Sam states as he turns the camera in his hand and points at it. 
“And comment about how ballsy Matt is. I’m actually so shocked about how he’s been doing this whole investigation. He’s usually never this open and talkative during stuff like this.” Nick says as he crosses his arms over his chest. 
“Yeah, I'm actually really proud of him. He's doing phenomenal.” Colby compliments as he gently claps a few times. 
“Let’s just hope he hasn’t been too open today. We don’t want him to get any-“ Sam gets cut off by Colby harshly digging his elbow into his side. The blonde winces softly and flinches at the touch, his eyes narrowing as he sends a glare towards his friend. 
“Get any what?” You ask, panic flooding in you as you take in Colby’s serious expression. 
“Nothing. We should start asking some questions before Matt comes back.” Colby replies, a small smile appearing on his lips as he turns back around. You share a worried look with Nick and Chris before the three of you, including Sam, join Colby in sitting on the floor around the onvoy. “Who would like to ask the first question?” 
“I would.” Nick says, picking his head up to lock eyes with Colby. After gaining a small head nod from the male, he takes a deep inhale before speaking, “Was sending Matt alone a good decision?” A few beats of silence pass by before the onvoy dings. Nick bends down slightly to read the response. “Yes!” 
“Will Matt find more information regarding what happened at the hotel?” Chris asks as he brings his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. The onvoy dings seconds after the question. “No…” 
“Alright..” You mumble. You clear your throat before asking your question, “Will someone join Matt in the elevator when he reaches the fifth floor?” Like earlier, the onvoy immediately dings as it lights up a response. “Yes. Well isn’t that nice. Doesn’t make my anxiety worse at all.” 
The boys all giggle at your statement as you rub your face with both your hands. 
“Is Matt in any danger?” Sam asks, momentarily turning the camera around to put himself in the frame before he turns it back around. Again, the onvoy immediately dings a response. You and the boys take a moment to pause and exchange anxious looks before yall lean in and read the response. 
“Yes.” 
༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
20 minutes have gone by as you and the boys took turns asking questions to the spirits willing to communicate with you guys. Some of the questions have gotten rapid responses while others have taken a little longer to reply. As time slowly ticked away, you felt anxiety bubble inside of you. Matt should’ve been back by now considering how he and Sam returned in less than 10 minutes when they did the ritual. You found yourself continuously looking over at the closed elevator everytime someone else in the group spoke up to ask a question, hoping that the doors would open and reveal your boyfriend. Unfortunately it never happened and the doors remained shut. 
“Okay, I'm getting really worried. He should be back by now.” You say, your gaze on the closed elevator doors shifting up to the number 10 glowing brightly in large, bold lettering. 
“Well, he’s on the tenth floor right now. All he has to do is go to five and come back.” Sam says as he takes a seat against the wall facing the elevator, his arms coming up to cross over his chest. 
“Okay true but what’s taking him so long?” Nick asks, a single hand coming up to his mouth. As the red-head begins to bite on his polished nails, Chris takes a glance over at your focused state. He forces his lips into a straight line, worry and anxiety filling his veins at the thought of Matt not returning. 
“He’s at five.” Colby states as he points at the glowing number atop the elevator. The rest of the boys join you and the ghost hunter in looking over at the elevator. 
“Please come back.” You whisper under your breath, a sudden lump forming in your throat as you swallow dryly. As you shakily exhale, a sudden poke on your side causes you to jump rather harshly. “What the fuck?” You mumble as you quickly hug your torso and turn around.
“What happened?” Chris asks, his head whipping around to look over at you. 
“Did one of you guys poke me?” You ask as you lift your head up. 
“None of us touched you.” Colby says as he lifts both his hands up in the air. A wave of nausea suddenly hits you as you slowly turn around to look at Sam, the sight of him looking at you worriedly causing your stomach to churn. As you go to question the blonde, soft giggles bubble up your throat as you feel a series of rapid pokes travel down your other side. After the feeling vanishes, you stumble to your feet and run over to where Nick and Chris are, fear washing over you as you desperately rub your sides to try and get the ghostly feeling away. 
“Samantha.” Sam mumbles under his breath, his eyes slightly going wide as he looks over at your panicked state. 
“Samantha, if that's you, please leave her alone. You do not have permission to touch her.” Colby states, his tone holding a sense of authority as he takes a few quick glances around the room. 
At the mention of the child’s name, Nick’s eyes widen in a mix of terror and shock and he quickly looks down at you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your slightly shorter frame and brings you flush against him. 
“Samantha, are you messing with y/n?” Chris asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, his gaze falling to the unused onvoy on the floor. 
The said device immediately beeps in response. 
Colby lifts himself up from the wall he’s leaning against and walks up to the onvoy. His tall frame bends down slightly before his eyes skim over the response. 
“It says yes.” Colby says, his gaze lifting up from the device and shifting over to Sam. The two share a frightened look as you feel your heart drop to your feet. You quickly turn around and bury your face in Nick’s clothed chest, your breath beginning to pick up as you clutch onto the male’s arms rather desperately.
“It’s okay.” Nick whispers as he rests his chin on the top of your head. As he begins to rub comforting circles on your back with his palm, the sound of the elevator dinging pierces your ears. You quickly lift your head and look over at the elevator, the rest of the boys soon doing the same. 
“Matt?” You call out, your voice cracking slightly as you slip out of Nick’s hold and run to the elevator. 
“y/n wait!” Chris exclaims, his arm extending out to go to grab you and pull you back. His attempt fails however as you slip through the opening of the elevator, not even waiting for the door to fully open. The moment you step inside, you feel your breath get caught in your throat .
Matt isn’t in the elevator. 
And the only thing inside is the camera and his horse necklace. 
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cherryrainn · 9 months
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begging u for some fem reader blitzø smut 🙏 we need more blitzø content in this world
━━ ✧ 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; blitzø + fem!reader
─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; i'm proud of this. and YEAH SO TRUE
─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; sexual content, smut, oral sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, dirty talk,
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you push open the heavy door to i.m.p headquarters, expecting to hear the usual cacophony of voices and the shenanigans that often accompany a typical workday. instead, you're met with an unsettling silence. the absence of moxxie's chatter, millie's boisterous laughter, and even loona's sarcastic remarks leaves the place feeling eerily still.
raising an eyebrow, you shrug off the unusual quietude and decide to head straight to blitzo's office. the walls adorned with contracts and pictures of past assignments close in on you as you make your way down the corridor.
you've always sensed a strange, electric tension between you and blitzo. the stolen glances, the lingering touches — yet, neither of you has dared to cross that unspoken boundary.
as you approach blitzo's office, you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest. was he even in there?
you've had your eyes on each other for what feels like forever, but circumstances, or maybe just sheer cowardice, have kept things between you strictly professional.
you knock lightly on blitzo's door, already half-expecting it to swing open without a response. to your surprise, the door creaks open almost immediately, revealing blitzo leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk cluttered with paperwork and empty whiskey bottles. was he waiting for you? classic.
"ah, if it isn't the most fuckable employee walkin' through that door," blitzo drawls, his red eyes lighting up with mischief as he takes in your appearance. "took ya long enough."
rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smirk tugging at your lips, you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "looks like everyone decided to play hooky today. even loona?"
blitzo chuckles, lowering his feet to the ground as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "yeah, somethin' like that. mox and mil.. more like a 'family day out,' or some sappy shit like that. loona.. i dunno. left me here all alone, can you believe it?"
you say nothing. you move closer to the desk.
it's just you and him.
blitzo breaks the silence first, his voice husky and laced with an unfamiliar vulnerability. "y'know, for all the shit we've been through, all the near-death experiences and fucked-up assignments, there's somethin' i've been meanin' to tell you."
your heart pounds in your chest as you lean in, captivated by the intensity in his eyes. "oh? and what's that?"
he smirks, a devilish glint in his gaze as he reaches across the desk, his fingers lightly grazing yours. "fuck the paperwork."
before you can process what's happening, blitzo is standing before you, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a rough kiss.
your lips crash against his as he tightens his grip on you, his hands roaming over your body, desperate and hungry. he bites your bottom lip, earning a moan from you, and your tongues dance together as you deepen the kiss.
heat pools in your core as blitzo's hand slips under your top, his claws raking down your back. he pushes you onto the desk, and you find yourself trapped beneath him, his frame pressing you against the wooden surface.
the sound of ripping fabric fills the room as blitzo tears off your top, exposing your bare chest. he lowers his mouth to your breasts, his tongue teasing your nipples before sucking on them. you writhe beneath him, your breath hitching as his fingers trail down your stomach and under the waistband of your jeans.
"tell me you want this," blitzo murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire as his fingers brush against your clit.
"yes, please, i want you," you whisper, your own voice trembling as you cling to him.
that's all the encouragement he needs. in a blur of movement, blitzo yanks off your pants (or whatever you're wearing) and underwear, tossing them aside as he kneels between your legs.
his tongue flicks against your folds, causing you to buck your hips against him. he chuckles, his breath hot against your sensitive skin, before pushing his tongue inside of you.
you let out a moan as he begins to lick and suck at your entrance, his fingers massaging your clit. the heat inside you is unbearable, and you arch your back, trying to pull him deeper inside of you.
blitzo pulls away, his eyes burning with lust as he looks up at you. "god, you taste so fuckin' good."
you reach down, grabbing his horn, guiding his head back down to your dripping cunt. he groans against you, his tongue plunging inside of you once more, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
the wet sounds of his mouth against your pussy echo throughout the room, mingling with the sounds of your whimpers and moans. you feel yourself growing closer and closer to climax, your grip on his horn tightening.
"fuck, blitz," you whimper, your thighs quivering as you teeter on the edge of release.
suddenly, blitzo stops, pulling away from you. you whimper, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling cold and empty.
"why'd you stop?" you pant, your eyes pleading for him to continue.
"i think you can do better than that," blitzo smirks, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly rises to his feet, unfastening his pants.
your eyes widen as his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing. his hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs open as he positions himself between them.
you bite your lip as he enters you, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. he grunts, his hands digging into your flesh as he begins to thrust into you.
the sensation of him filling you, his cock hitting every right spot, is almost too much to bear. you cry out, arching your back as he pounds into you, his movements frantic and desperate.
"oh, fuck, blitz!" you moan, your hands grasping his shoulders, holding on for dear life.
"that's better," he growls, his voice ragged and full of need.
his fingers dig into your thighs, the pain mixing with the pleasure, sending you spiraling towards your release. your muscles tense, your body tingling with the delicious friction of him moving inside of you.
"are you gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispers, his eyes locked with yours.
"yes!" you moan, the heat building inside you reaching a breaking point.
blitzo smirks, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more frenzied. "go ahead then, cum for me."
you cry out, the coil of pleasure inside you snapping as you reach your peak. your body shakes with the force of your orgasm, the waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and spent.
blitzo lets out a guttural groan, his cock pulsing inside of you as he comes undone. his hips slam against yours, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he empties himself into you.
you collapse onto the desk, sweaty and panting, the euphoric afterglow of your orgasm washing over you. blitzo leans over you, his face inches from yours, his red eyes gazing into yours.
"shiiit," he says, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "i think i love you."
you smile, a warmth spreading through your chest as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. "i think i love you too."
964 notes · View notes
fraugwinska · 5 months
Note
You know what I'd like to read? Goofy ass Alastor. Him and reader just bonding through being partners in crime. The crime in question? Silly pranks on other hotel guests. They can be painfully cringe and only funny to them. Because you know. Boredom. Make them friends, make them sweethearts, make it somehow end in smut ( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )- idc. You do you, Gwinska!
I just want some strawberry pimp shenanigans!
My inspiration for that exquisite prompt?
This: https://www.instagram.com/p/C5SIGvCg91j/?igsh=cmF5cjc5Znlpdnhu
Hello there, patient frauchen! Boy, you had me sweating here! But alas, I did it and I think it's safe to say - I got all your wishes covered ;> This one's for my adult sinners only! Sorry Minors, please DNI!
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Joke's On You
Everyone at the Hazbin Hotel knew that Alastor loved silly, dumb pranks.
The radio demon would set Charlie in a panic, rushing in her office to tell her that there was water running down the freshly renovated staircase - only for her and a similar panicking Vaggie to find bottles of water in shoes placed on the steps, groaning at the delighted chuckle from the shadows at the top of them. Morning coffees and stomachs were ruined by Alastor one day, switching the contents of the salt and the sugar jars and in having half of the residents hurl into the sink at once. You were one of those unfortunate souls, the only one laughing maniacally at the whole ordeal as you spat out salty saliva.
Because what they didn't know was that you were just as bad. Maybe even worse.
A few weeks had gone by since you checked in, and you watched Alastor with impish glee as he planned out and executed his tricks on the crew, including you. In contrast to the exhausted, annoyed reactions from the other residents, you always laughed, chuckled or giggled at the outcome - leaving him always in between confused and delighted.
Until one day. Emboldened and settled in enough, you decided the day has come for you to join in on the fun. Prepared with a dry noodle in your mouth, you asked Vaggie after breakfast to help you crack your back, watching Alastor from the corner of your eye, who sat at the table still reading his newspaper. As he looked up after turning a page and Vaggie obliged, hooking her arms into yours and bending forward, you bit down. The sound of the cracking noodle and your fake scream made Vaggie and the rest of the residents jump in shock and Alastor nearly double over, howling with laughter. You couldn't hold it together, showing her the cracked noodle and cackled madly while Vaggie, comforted by a nervous but relieved looking Charlie, just shook her head exasperated and groaned. "Great, another one who thinks this shit is funny." You apologized, still chuckling, as your eyes found Alastor's, and his wide smile and mischievous glint in his eyes told you that this was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.
It wasn't long until the both of you became fast friends, partners in crime.
After the whole noodle debacle, the two of you spent more and more time together, coming up with stupid ideas on what to do to the poor crew. Your first idea was a rather simple one: Replace the Alcohol in Husks bar with various other liquids. You and Alastor had a grand time switching vodka with water, red wine with beet juice and whiskey with apple cider vinegar. Alastor had his fun observing the results, especially Husks reaction. It wasn't pretty, to say the least. The cat had a breakdown when he smelled the vinegar in his usual drink, shouting curses at the deer who joined in your hysterical giggling. You patted the coughing cat on his back and handed him a new bottle of cheap booze as compensation.
Niffty was next, her sweet tooth was just too exploitable. While you prepared the very special 'surprise' cake, a balloon, hidden under a mass of frosting, high and pretty and covered in sprinkles, Alastor coaxed her into cutting a piece. "Come on now, Niffty, a small bite wouldn't hurt! You have to try the cake, my dear. We worked so hard on it, I assure you that you will like it!". She was hesitant at first, but as he promised her another one later, she couldn't resist the temptation and cut herself a piece, not noticing the grin on Al's face. The high shriek at the pop of the balloon was almost as hilarious as her face, covered in cream and colorful specks of reds, yellows and blues. The both of you couldn't stop laughing for minutes, and after Niffty calmed down enough, she took the joke in good fun and happily munched on the cupcake you had given her while Alastor and you cleaned her up, exchanging bemused looks.
After finding an exact copy of the remote control of the hotels' TV set on one of your outings, Alastor had the most wonderful idea to mess with the newest guest, Sir Pentious, who had claimed the TV in the lobby every evening to watch his favorite soap opera together with his egg companions. You both hid, the spare remote ready, waiting patiently until the snake had his show on and made himself comfortable on the sofa. You began to change the channels, and every time the Egg Bois hopped over to the TV to manually return to their show, you let them, waiting until everyone was once again settled before you switched the channel again. The villainous overlord hissed in rising anger, the sound of him slamming the original remote on the floor and yelling about the 'incompetence of these damn VoxTech devices' almost as satisfying as his face when Alastor took the remote from your hand, winking, and changed it right back, snickering as he did.
You continued to play your little tricks on everyone, although you made sure you always made it up to the recipients of your shenanigans. You felt a weird sense of pride and satisfaction seeing that Alastor didn't seem to mind having a partner in crime for a change. You didn't know much about him before, but the others told you that Alastor wasn't exactly known for making friends and having close relationships, and it warmed your heart knowing that he opened up a little bit and enjoyed the time he spent with you.
You also enjoyed the time you spent with him, not only because of the mischief you two brought upon the crew, but also just because you enjoyed his presence and company. He was witty, clever and had a wonderful, contagious laugh. And his smile. When he smiled at you, you would feel warm and giddy and you felt like you were the luckiest person in hell to be able to witness the joyful look on his face, to see his ears wiggle the peculiar way they did when your pranks played out exactly as he planned them to.
***
You turned the page of your book, still giggling. Alastor smiled, his legs suavely crossed as he leaned back in the comfy chair across from you, his own book forgotten and abandoned on his lap.
"I still can't believe you made me prank the literal king of hell.", you said, a hand covering your mouth in a useless attempt to stifle your laugh.
Alastor grinned. "And I can't believe you managed to hold yourself together, darling - yet, you did, splendidly might I add. His highness didn't suspect a thing."
Indeed, you best prank yet was a great success. After endless convincing you gave in to Alastor's idea of switching Lucifer's favorite treat of the day, his beloved caramel apples, out with onions. He had stood watch as you worked in the kitchen all through the night, meticulously covering every square inch of the white, smelly bulbs with a thick layer of homemade, glossy caramel so to not leave even an inkling of the mischief underneath. You didn't want to risk being found out, after all. The result was a tray full of gorgeous, golden, sticky caramelized onions that Lucifer didn't hesitate a single second to take a big bite out of when you - admittedly very nervously – offered them to him, his content hum at the taste quickly changing to one of surprise and revulsion as he gagged and coughed out pieces of the deceptive treat.
"He was really sweet about the whole ordeal, too. I wonder if my 'Apology Apple Pie' was the reason he was so quick to forgive us." You closed the book and put it on the table next to you, shifting and pulling the fuzzy blanket higher over your legs. The library was your and Alastors favorite hangout, usually being empty and abandoned, and it was also the place where the two of you would spend hours and hours together, reading, talking, scheming.
"He forgave you, darling. He still hates me down to his bones.", Alastor corrected you with a sly smirk. "But no doubt about the exquisite quality of that pie, dearest! I had a slice myself, it was delicious! A fine work, as expected from my best gal."
You chuckled, cheeks heating up at the praise. "So, what now? I think we got them all good by now, haven't we?"
Alastor's eyes were still on you as he pondered for a moment. "There's still our amorous arachnid to be played a fool, he has been quite elusive to our trickery."
"Angel is a hard nut to crack", you smiled to yourself, "There's not much that can rattle him. We would have to think about something major, something that really shocks him and truly makes him question everything he thinks is true and real in his life."
"Now there's a challenge." Alastor put his chin on his knuckles as he leaned onto the armrest of his seat. He closed his eyes, the little tell tale static from his chest permeating the air around him, indicating he was thinking intently. You couldn't help but smile as you studied his sharp features. A strange warm flutter tickled your stomach. "That lanky sinner has quite the filthy mind. It would have to be quite the filthy endeavor..."
"Ha, wouldn't that be something he would not see coming from Mr. Celibate - his words not mine!", you snorted, remembering all the times ANgel made fun of Alastor's obvious disinterest in anything sexual or 'filthy'.
"Indeed." He opened one of his eyes, looking over to you while he hummed quietly. "I'm thinking, dearest. What would shock and confuse our dear fellow the most, I ask, than the thought of you and I ... dallying? No doubt his world would crumble."
You furrowed your brow. "Dallying?" You thought you didn't hear him right, utterly lost at his growing grin.
***
You were fidgeting with the loose thread of your sweater as you waited in the supply closet for Alastor to return. It was a decent sized space, stacked with spare sheets, cleaning supplies and a lot of various things that were used or needed throughout the hotel. It was the perfect location for your newest prank, away from any prying or judgmental eyes - as long as no one was wandering through the hallway, except of course, for the intended victim: Angel.
"Dearest, we got the first act running along smoothly, and now, it's time for act two!". With a hushed click the door fell shut, and your heart gave a wild thump of excitement. You shifted slightly as you heard him slip next to you in the dim darkness, turning up the act and forcing a smile that was hopefully bright enough to distract him from the redness of your cheeks and the quick beat of your heart.
The last days were filled with what Alastor had called 'prep work'. His plan: Getting Angel to think you and Alastor would do 'the deed', an attempt to shatter his world view and really get under his skin. So, the both of you played it up by the daily, and whenever you were in the vicinity of the spider demon, you had been underhandedly seductive, upped on flirty comments, subtle touches and some of the worst, most suggestive innuendos you had ever made and had to hold a cringing chuckle every time you saw Alastor's comically pained expression when his back was turned to a more and more confused looking Angel.
Today would be the final part of the plan. Hidden in the supply closet, you and Alastor would wait for Angel to pass the room on his way back from the hotel's gym, as he always did on fridays, unaccompanied and ready to hear your and the radio demons carefully conducted script - something so utterly lewd that it would probably even make his boss Valentino blush. The key, in Alastor's words, was to deliver your fake sexual activities just loud enough so that he would walk past and listen and - well, you guessed you were supposed to shock him to the core.
"My shadows told me he's about to exit the gym. So, are you ready, sweetheart?", Alastor spoke with a wicked, glowing grin as you eyed the door, listening for the soft shuffle and clunking footsteps. "Showtime. Now..." His voice was low, almost sultry in its timber and proximity. You could barely react, and even though you felt nervous, you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself enough to remember what you had to say.
The footsteps were getting louder, and you took a deep breath before shooting Alastor a glance, sly smile in place as you nodded. Go time.
"Alastor...", you sighed, almost cringing at the sound of your voice, too breathy for your own liking, and not at all sexy. This better would work... "Not here, we can't..."
"You just have to be quiet, pet...", Alastor retorted, and your face instantly burned red. It didn't sound like... that when the both of you put it into writing, not at all. Your chest clenched and heat rushed through your body, but you had to focus, had to see this through...
You struggled to hold yourself together, remembering your next line as you heard the steps outside slowing down.
"You're doing great, darling, keep it up...", he whispered, his smile tight and eyes narrow. His voice rose, making Angel on the other side of the door freeze in his steps. "Then I'll better have to keep that pretty mouth occupied."
It took all your willpower to suppress the shiver that wanted to run down your spine, instead you returned his grin with your own weak one. Keep it up echoed in your head, and you decided you were in for a penny, in for a pound: You moaned loud and sinfully while you kept your gaze locked with his before letting out a high-pitched squeak of fake-surprise, biting your lip.
You could hear Angel shuffle and listened as his ear must've neared the thin door. Your heart beat in your throat, excited to have caught both of their interests - Angel's, as well as Alastor's alike. It was as if something in the other demon snapped and he seemed to be, dare you say it, into your little act. There was a glazed over look in the crimson of his eyes, staring at you in an unreadable expression.
"My, my, aren't we eager...", Alastor mumbled, almost more to himself as his claws found their way to your hips.
"I... I'm...", you trailed off. Shit, the script, he was going off the script. What the fuck was next again?
He tilted his head slightly, pulling you closer, so close his nose bumped into yours and his lips were near enough that they nearly grazed your heated cheeks. "Al.. what are you doing?", you whispered frantically, realizing with sudden excitement the hard, long object pressing into you was NOT an ill-placed broomstick. It was like a jolt, electricity running from where his body was flush against yours, flooding your lower body and rendering you into a flustered mess. He scraped one of his claws along your throat, breathing a little to heavy to it being just an act. His hips snapped in a sudden, desperate movement, making you and him both groan at the intensity of his erection rubbing against your heated core.
Wait. His erection?
You panicked - This wasn't how this was supposed to go, but yet your traitorous body felt like it was burning hot, the sound of Alastor's strained sighs music to your ears. You wondered if he could feel the slight wetness from your core against his pants, feeling almost faint but nonetheless unreasonably aroused at the thought. His chuckle vibrated low and dark in his throat, eyes flashing as you panted helplessly against him. Your own legs began to tremble with the tension and the intensity of his movements, which now had you caged between his solid body and the wall behind you.
"I'm going to ruin you, darling...", he uttered, the pet name thick like honey leaving his lips, and you choked a breath as you moaned and felt his smile press against your jaw, traveling to your mouth, "I'm going to pick you apart, my darling dearest, and you will beg for me not to stop, never to stop until I make you forget to say anything but my name."
He was out of it. You were out of it. You forgot about the script, about the whole idea of the prank. You couldn't even care about the mumbled words that the listening Angel must've said from the other side of the door, because you were completely captured, overwhelmed by the turn of events, overwhelmed by the tall, dark demon pressed up against you who was moving his hands hungrily over your body, devouring you whole with his piercing eyes and cock throbbing against your groin, eliciting desperate whimpers with the slow movements of his hips against yours.
In a matter of seconds, Alastor had reached down to free his cock from his clothed restraints. You let out a broken whimper as he shoved up your skirt, running the smooth surface of his claw against your clothed entrance, pushing the wetness that was dripping through the thin barrier away, not a single care in the world about the sticky dampness his fingers were covered in. His mouth left yours to let his tongue lick down your neck and shoulders, teeth catching your pulse and sucking, bruising your tender skin.
“Only I am going to get to feel you, make you keen, scream and moan under my fingers and lips and cock, you hear me?”
You couldn't reply as he pushed into you, hard and in one, relentless strike. Your heart was beating impossibly fast, so fast you thought it was about to break, and the sharp pleasure mixed with pain was mind numbing and made the stars behind your shut eyes explode.
"My perfect. little. frivolous. pet."
Every word was a thrust, deeper and deeper until you couldn't take it anymore and wailed out his name in a wanton cry, so sudden and urgent that even Alastor looked shocked and ecstatic in surprise. The tension rose and exploded, and you clenched and pulsed and shivered around his shaft, feeling every inch inside of you and trying so hard to remember how to breathe. He growled into your shoulder and leaned his forehead against your neck, pulling you onto his length in sharp, hard jerks that send sparks down your body. The warmth of his cock was unreal and incredible as he stretched you again and again, a pleased hum escaping his lips and it going straight to your head.
"A-Alastor... fuck, I'm so... so close..."
His grip tightened, a vicious thrust, hitting you so deep that you threw your head back, chanting his name in desperate mewls. Every fiber of your being was tingling, an indescribable pressure building up from deep inside you, erasing your mind.
He made true to his word.
You truly forgot anything else, the only thing on your mind, his name, spilled from your lips in sync with his accelerating thrusts.
***
"I'm telling yo', they're not fucking."
Angel pulled the cat harder, almost running back to the corridor with the cursed supply closet.
"Husk, I'm a fuckin' porn actor. I know how a good shag sounds like. They're makin' the beast with two backs, and holy shit are they goin' at it."
"The beast with two back's?" Husk rolled his eyes, and groaned in exasperation as Angel jumped excitedly and shuffled the other nearer towards the closet, listening intensely.
"Don't yo' get it? It's their schtick, their sick lil' past-time-pleasure. They were bein' too quiet the last few days. And yo' falling for their dumb joke, hook, line and sinker."
Angel hesitated, eyes shifting between his grumpy looking lover and the closed door, from which he could still hear desperate moans and dull thumps. He had been so sure, but now he was uncertain. No not uncertain. He was sure.
Sure that Husk was right. Alastor and you were screwing with him, majorly so. You were playing some stupid prank on him, like you did with all the others, and now he fell for it, too! The last one standing, the only one you hadn't gotten to.
"Those sleazy, scheming bastards!"
Another loud thump made Angel turn on his heels, suddenly delighted with mischief. The last thing he heard was your voice, crying out Alastor's name in an utterly outrageous moan. He reached out in smug victory, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it with steady hands
“You prankster-bitches can cut the fuckin' act, I didn't fall for...”
A screeching, ear-ripping howl burst from the opened door. Angel shrieked in fear as black tentacles sprouted out of the frame, grabbing him and a terrified Husk, trowing them out of the corridor in a wide, long and forceful swoop. The two demons crashed against the sofas of the foyer, making them fall and tumble over. Husk groaned, fighting his way out of the mass of pillows he was buried under, while Angel was panting on the backrest of one toppled three seater, one of his hands on his heaving, fluffy chest while the other three were buried in the upholstery.
“Huh. I stand corrected.” Husk said, shaking his head at the still furiously squirming tentacles retreating into the darkness of the corridor.
“F-fucking told y-'ya!”, Angel stuttered, frozen in place. “Do me a fava', yeah? Fix me a drink so strong it makes me forget what Al's dick looks like.”
611 notes · View notes
birrdies · 7 months
Text
“when I say you are killing me” (desert duo one-shot, 2.6k)
Every inch of his climb is agony. White-hot and endless, it ricochets through Scar’s body as if it bought an expressway pass through his veins like a highway. Would it have killed Grian to get an apartment on the first floor? Hell, Scar would even take something on the third or fourth-floor if he had to. Anything would be better than dragging himself, slowly and painfully, up twelve flights of rickety metal stairs. In the snow. In the middle of the night. Bleeding.
Scar’s having a bad night.
Blood dribbles between the gaps of his fingers. It’s slower than it had been, but each heave up another flight of stairs blinds him with pain and sends a few more fresh droplets of blood sliding down his middle. His shirt (whatever tatters remain of it anyway) and pants are wet and tacky, sticking to his skin like a perpetually wet bathing suit as he tries to climb the rest of the way up to Grian’s apartment.
The fire escape is an old decrepit fixture of rusting metal mounted to the brick siding with nothing more than a few loose bolts and a dream. It groans beneath his weight, the barest shake of wind causing the metal to ripple and shudder. The metal saps the warmth from his already cold, pale fingertips. He’d had gloves, but had to get rid of them as they were soaked in blood and not all-that conducive for climbing-under-the-influence (of blood loss). Scar’s not afraid of much, least of all heights, but he chooses each step up the fire escape carefully, muscle memory a crutch as he drags himself past open windows with the lights still on. Last thing he needs is another broadcast claiming HotGuy is nothing but a petty creep with a penchant for B&Es.
By the time he reaches the twelfth floor he’s shaking from head-to-to. Each breath sears through him, rivaling the sharp-edged pain of lightning, setting him alight. It burns through him, the aftershocks never ending as he pulls himself upright and grasps onto the edges of Grian’s windowsill. A pained whine catches between his teeth; he refuses to let it out.
Curled up at Grian’s windowsill as he peeks through the drawn curtains at the warm lamplight cascading through the glass, Scar finds the painful climb was well worth each and every second of agony. No better minded than a moth drawn to a flame Scar leans in to rest his forehead against the glass, the warm, golden glow from within Grian’s apartment beckoning him forward. Inside, Grian’s sitting at his desk around a cluster of books and papers strewn around as if a bomb had gone off. His hair is fuzzy and curled at the tips, as it always is whenever Grian lets it air dry after a shower. His shoulders are hunched and the sides of his face are illuminated by the blue glow of his laptop screen. Even through the glass Scar can hear the incessant clacking of his keys as he furiously types away at whatever assignment he’s working on.
It takes Scar more than one try to build up the courage to disturb him. He looks peaceful (or about as peaceful as someone working on a lab report can be), and Scar knows that peace will shatter the second he knocks, the second he barges in, yet again, on Grian’s evening and sweeps him up in his vigilante shenanigans.
Scar’s bloodied hands grasp onto the windowsill, red streaks staining the chipping white paint like a crime scene out of some gruesome horror movie Grian would have him watch. He winces at the sight; it’ll be a nightmare to scrub out. He’ll have to remember to buy Grian dinner one of these days to make it up to him and hope that Grian will have the heart, eventually, to forgive him.
“Grian,” he mumbles, startled to find his voice nothing more than a gravelly rasp. He reaches to knock, but his arms are as stiff as uncooked spaghetti noodles and don’t listen to a word he has to say. With a huff of frustration, Scar pitches his weight forward and thumps his head twice against the glass. The dull ache through his forehead is nothing compared to the feverish burning tearing through his chest and stomach.
Inside, a shadow bolts across the floor. Grian’s cat, Maui. In his chair Grian twists around at the sound. He’s wearing his glasses— Scar’s heart drops low in his stomach at the sight— and squints through the darkness to see Scar sheepishly waving at him through the glass, his breath fogging it up just enough to be seen.
He unfurls himself from his chair and comes to pry the window open. Scar comes face-to-face with his heart-patterned pajama pants, two sizes too big and pooling around his ankles. Wait, are those Scar’s?
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Grian is asking before Scar manages to start dragging himself in through the open window. It’s only for the briefest millisecond, in Grian’s ignorance, that Scar can be grateful for the starless, moonless night. The dark shields him not only from the prying eyes of neighbors, but from Grian’s scrutiny. In this dark he can’t see the blood, can’t see the tears in his shirt. In the dark, he might just look a little ruffled, no worse for wear than he usually is after a busy night patrolling. In the dark, he and Grian can pretend, albeit for only a second, that everything is normal.
But as the pain and dark corners throbbing in his periphery are keen on reminding him, everything is very much not normal.
“I seemed to have lost my watch,” Scar says as he pulls himself in through the open window. Every movement is measured, half-withheld, ginger— everything that Scar isn’t, and he’d be a fool to think Grian wouldn’t notice. He does immediately, because he’s Grian, and he’s never been truly ignorant when it comes to Scar, despite Scar’s best intentions.
Grian steps back with wide eyes. The color drains from his face as Scar holds his weight against the wall with one blood-slicked hand and struggles to stand at his full height. Every inch he tries to stand taller, the more the swelling edges of the wound start to pull and ache.
“Scar?” Grian’s face, usually so warm and vivid, especially under the light of his desk lamp, pales to a near lifeless color. He staggers toward him, hands held out in front of him as if to catch Scar. “Scar, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Right as rain, G,” Scar says, managing a wry smile. “Honest.”
“Don’t give me that.” Grian rushes forward, grabbing Scar around the shoulders and steering him towards the futon in the middle of the room. The second Grian touches him some of Scar’s pain fades, if not just because he has somewhere else to pitch his weight, to take some of the strain off his bloodied, torn middle.
The pair of them hobble to the futon, Grian whispering mumbled nothings as he lowers Scar onto the edge and forces him to sit back with firm hands on his shoulders. Scar allows himself the smallest mercy of relaxing into the cushions, his arms and legs limp at his sides as his head lulls back to rest against the back of the futon. It’s as if every string tying his marionette up, stringing him along, has been cut all at once. It’s somehow blissful and terrifying all at the same time. He’s not sure he’s ever been this roughed up, this exhausted.
And in front of Grian of all people?
Grian, whose face is drawn tight, whose shoulders and jaw are rigid as if he’s been made out of wood. Grian, who anxiously flutters at Scar’s side for a second before disappearing in a flurry toward the kitchen. Scar’s head is too heavy for him to lift, but he hears Grian rummaging and cursing under his breath before he returns just as quickly as he left. In his arms he balances a handful of small dishtowels, a first-aid kit, and a box of blue rubber gloves.
“I can’t believe this,” he says, to himself more than to Scar, as he sits on his knees on the cushion beside Scar and leans over to assess the wounds.
Gingerly he pulls the tattered shreds of his black shirt away from the wound-bed (as much as he can with some of the fabric stuck to his body with blood like glue) and winces at the gory sight. Scar’s skin is torn in jagged ridges, three gouge marks clawed from just under his ribs and down across his right abdomen. Thankfully, the worst of the bleeding seems to have stopped, dark, thick globules of blood already starting to stitch together like wads of hot glue around the wound, crusting on the skin.
Grian examines it all with a crease between his brow that Scar, after all this time, has come to know means he’s irritated. He’s always looked especially cute when he’s angry (part of the reason it’s just too easy for Scar to give into the temptation to push his buttons whenever possible), but the downturn of his lips, the whites of his eyes, reveals something far more serious. Worry. Grian’s worried about him, and maybe it’s the blood loss starting to get to Scar in earnest, but Scar finds he far prefers this sight. He can’t help but smile back at him, even though he knows it’ll likely earn him a punch when he’s no longer bleeding out on Grian’s couch.
“Scar.” Grian says his name as if he’s been saying it for a while, but Scar’s only just now hearing it. “This is bad. Like, really bad.”
Scar blinks down his nose at him, brow furrowed. “You should see the other guy,” he says with a weak huff of laughter. “Stuck him so full of arrows you could call him a porcupine.”
“Scar, this is serious,” Grian admonishes, snapping on a pair of gloves and brushing his hair from his eyes.
“But you’re gonna fix me right up, ain’t you, Doc?” Sar teases, lifting his head just enough to catch Grian’s scowl as he flicks open the first-aid kit and fishes out a small brown bottle.
“I need you to tell me what happened,” Grian says, and there he goes again— detached, analytical, dawning his ‘I’m calm and collected’ persona. He pulls a pair of scissors out of the first-aid kit and tests the snap of them. “This doesn’t look like it was from some kind of a knife—”
“Ravager,” Scar says, gritting his teeth in anticipation. “Jerk got too close.”
Grian raises an eyebrow. “Sounds more like you got too cocky.”
Again, Scar finds himself fighting (and failing) to conceal a smug little smile. “You’re worried about me, just say it.”
“I’m pissed off is what I am,” Grian snaps. He peels up one edge of Scar’s shirt and begins cutting away as much of the fabric as he can without disturbing the edges of Scar’s wounds. He winces only when the shirt tugs too sharply on the red, puffy edges of the wound. And Grian, to Scar’s surprise, nearly flinches every time he does.
“Sorry, sorry,” Grian whispers each time, sounding so unlike himself. His face is pale, and if Scar isn’t mistaken there’s the faintest tremble to his hand.
“It’s okay,” Scar says, just as hushed, as if the slightest movement or raise in his voice will spook Grian. “Do what you gotta do. I’m tough, I’m strong. I can take it.”
Grian scoffs and peels a foil lid from the bottle’s cap, dumping a bit of it onto a folded dishrag. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see how tough and strong you are once I start cleaning this.”
“Give me your worst, Doc.” Scar lets his head loll back to stare at the ceiling, taking as deep a breath as his tense, wounded chest will allow. The twinge of pain reminds him to stay awake, has his fingers curling into the fabric of the futon beneath him.
Grian doesn’t give Scar a warning, which he appreciates. The anticipation is the worst part. He grits his teeth and bares it as Grian firmly, but not violently, uses the alcohol-soaked rag to wash away the blood from his torn skin. Scar scrunches his eyes shut and breathes through it, the pain an unrelenting impulse racing through his veins like faulty circuitry gone haywire.
And as soon as it starts, it’s over. Grian sits back on his heels and tosses the now blood-soaked rag to the floor. He wipes at the sweat blistering across his forehead with his arm, taking a shaky breath in as he examines his handiwork.
“It’s not too deep,” he says, sounding the slightest bit relieved. He twists to reach for the first-aid kit again. “You’re lucky I swiped this stuff from the lab. Though I won’t begin to guess why you came here instead of a hospital. This needs stitches, probably.”
“Eh, I’m not worried about another scar,” Scar dismisses, ignoring the small beads of sweat starting to gather on his own brow. He can’t handle Grian thinking he’s caused him any more pain; the only thing worse than suffering as he is now is to watch Grian torture himself over things he can’t control. Like Scar. “Besides, I can’t exactly keep up the whole secret identity thing if I go to a hospital half in costume, now can I?”
“Secret identity,” Grian parrots mockingly, unraveling a bundle of bandages and starting to tack them down around Scar’s middle. “You nearly got gutted, and that’s what you’re worried about. Of course.”
He’s angry. Scar would be an idiot to not be able to see it, and maybe it shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. But it’s not the anger that catches Scar off guard. It’s what lingers beneath it: Grian’s gloved, trembling hands, the way he can’t look Scar in the eye more than a second before having to look away, burying himself in sorting through the first-aid kit for the fourth time as if looking for something to help and, just like every other time, coming up empty-handed.
Grian’s scared.
Scar’s known Grian for years now, and over that time he’s been a lot of things. Angry, judgmental, infectiously funny, bright. But afraid has never been a word Scar has used to describe him.
“Grian…”
“Of course I’m worried,” Grian says, catching Scar off guard. His voice is so quiet, so hushed that Scar wonders if he imagined it. Because something so vulnerable and soft sounding couldn’t come from someone as headstrong and impervious as Grian. It simply isn’t possible. “How could I not be? Have you looked at yourself?”
“Hey.” Scar can’t dream of sitting up, but he manages to leverage himself up just enough to reach for Grian’s wrist. He’ll feel bad about staining Grian’s sleeves with blood later. For now he needs to grab hold of him, pull him in close. To reassure him. “I’m fine. I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m in good hands, yeah?”
“Scar,” Grian says, sounding like he’s about to start crying. He curls his fingers into a weak fist, as if to pull from Scar’s grasp, but he doesn’t try it. He only holds it there, waiting. “I’m not exactly qualified. I’m a bio student, not a—”
“You’re doing fine,” Scar insists, caressing the inner aspect of Grian’s wrist with his thumb. There, he can feel the furious pace Grian’s heart takes on at the touch, like his pulse is ready to leap out from beneath the thin layer of skin. He flashes a smile, just to prove it to Grian. “I’ve bounced back from a lot worse than this. I’m just glad I don’t have to do it alone this time.”
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