#unknown character but what ever you asked for him

[solavita]

headlock (gojo satoru) — chapter four

pairing ; satoru gojo x fem!reader

words ; 6.0k

warning(s) ; mentions of corruption, enslavement, reader gets slapped, espionage

author's note ; this work will include dark themes like violence, enslavement, character death, psychological trauma, and references to torture. sexual content is also included. reader discretion is advised.

masterlist can be found here !

Shortly after packing up her things, Yui left, with a brief kiss to your cheek as a means of good luck. There was no mirror in your room, but you could only assume that you looked out of place. You exhaled slowly, hands brushing over the fabric of the dress she had chosen just for you. The deep green velvet dress hugged your sides, the cut modest enough to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but elegant enough to demand notice, with moderately tall heels clicking as you grabbed the bedframe in order to steady yourself. You hated the way that the shoes made you feel taller, more visible, every movement amplified. 

You thought back to Hana’s words. How she said not to trust anyone here, not even herself, and in turn, that extended to Yui. Were you to trust what she said about this man Kento? Or was this another deviously left trap you were about to find yourself in? And yet, what choice did you have? You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being dressed for a funeral — the question was whether it would be yours or not. 

Looking out the window, you let out a huff. The evening stretched ahead of you, the unknowns piling higher with each passing moment. Your chest felt tight as you thought about the dinner, the people who would be there, the conversations you would have to navigate, the lies you would have to tell. 

And Satoru. 

His presence lingered in your mind like a shadow you couldn’t shake, a threat that was as intoxicating as it was terrifying. He would be watching you tonight. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach, that sense of being under a microscope, every word, every gesture dissected. He would know if you faltered. 

You open the door and stepped outside, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin, a sharp contrast to the suffocating warmth you had grown accustomed to from your room. You barely had time to adjust to the dim light before your eyes landed on him. 

Satoru Gojo stood a few steps away, leaning casually against the wall. His posture was deceptively relaxed, but there was an unmistakable sharpness to his gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. He was dressed in fine clothing, the kind that suited someone of his status — a tailored black suit with subtle silver detailing along the lapels, his shirt collar unbuttoned just enough to lend an air of defiance to his otherwise polished appearance. The dark fabric contrasted starkly with his shock of white hair, which looked as though he’d spent precisely two seconds running a hand through before deciding it was good enough. 

He was scanning you through his black blindfold, not even bothering to hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well,” he said, his tone casual, like someone who was on some type of date. “Don’t you clean up nicely? Nice to see you in something a little less coated with blood.” 

You bristled at his words, at the way he looked at you like you were some shiny new toy. But you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, your hands gripping the folds of your dress to keep them from trembling with fear. 

He saw right through it. 

“You nervous?” He asked, his voice dropping slightly. “Big night and all. Lots of important people watching. You probably haven’t been around this many people since Japan was a thing, or, wait, how many people were in the cell you were in again?” 

You met his gaze, forcing yourself to hold it, even as the weight of his words, his attention pressed down on you. “Why would I be nervous?” You asked, the words steadier than you would ever feel in this type of situation. “It’s just dinner, right?” 

“Exactly. Just dinner. Keep that in mind, and you might just enjoy yourself.” 

He extended an arm, and as much as it made you internally cringe to grab it, you did so without so much as a rolled eye. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, then, with one last deep breath, you stepped forward, your heels clicking against the polished floor as you moved past him. The closer you got to the sounds of talking, laughing, and the clinking of glasses, the more you could feel a sense of dread wash over your entire being. The grand hall loomed ahead, its tall, arched doors already cracked open, revealing a sort of golden slow. It was a life that promised warmth, elegance, and luxury — everything that was so sickeningly out of place in the world you knew lied beyond these walls. You glanced at the gilded carvings that adorned the walls, the intricate chandeliers hanging high above. Everything screamed wealth, power, and indulgence. 

It made you sick. 

Millions had died — men, women, children. Lives snuffed out in the name of the Republic, in the name of order, all for the sake of a vision built on power and control. Those people were gone now, scattered to the winds, or buried in unmarked graves. And you were here, dressed up in a fine green dress, playing the part they wanted you to play, even though you hadn’t even been put up onto television yet. It felt like a betrayal — a betrayal to everyone who had died believing that there was a way out of this nightmare. 

“Thinking too much, sweetheart?” Gojo’s voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, almost amused. He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the tension in your expression. You forced yourself to take a breath, to unclench your jaw, to smooth out the lines that had formed between your brows. “Just admiring the decor,” you said, the words laced with sarcasm you didn’t bother to hide.

Gojo chuckled, his smile widening, though there was something darker behind it—something that said he knew exactly what you were thinking. “It is something, isn’t it?” he said, his voice carrying a note of mock appreciation. “All this opulence, all this grandeur. Makes you wonder what it’s all really for.” You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you approached the grand hall’s entrance. The double doors stood tall and imposing, the gold accents shimmering in the light. You could hear the laughter more clearly now, the sounds of people enjoying themselves, unaware—or perhaps uncaring—of the suffering outside these walls.

Gojo’s hand brushed against your arm, a light touch meant to guide you, but it felt more like a reminder of who was in control. You looked up at him, his smirk still in place, and for a moment, you thought you saw something else in his eyes—something almost like understanding. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same infuriating confidence.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softening, though the challenge was still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was true. You weren’t ready. You would never be ready for this—this charade, this lie you had to live. But you didn’t have a choice. Not if you wanted to survive. Not if you wanted to help those who still believed in something better. 

Gojo pushed the doors open, the warm light spilling out into the corridor, washing over you in a wave of heat. The laughter grew louder, the voices merging into a cacophony that made your head spin. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders, forcing a smile that you knew didn’t reach your eyes. The grand hall welcomed you, the faces turning to look, the smiles widening, the laughter continuing.

The guests were exactly as you’d imagined them—men and women draped in finery, their laughter too loud, their smiles too wide. They sipped from crystal glasses filled with deep red wine, their conversations laced with arrogance and self-satisfaction. These were the people who thrived in this new world, who had taken everything and given nothing back. They were comfortable, complacent, and utterly oblivious to the blood that had paved their way here. Gojo slowed his pace as a man approached, his uniform adorned with medals that gleamed under the chandelier’s light. He greeted Gojo with a firm handshake, his voice booming as he praised the successes of the Republic.

“Satoru,” the man said, his smile wide. “Always a pleasure to see you. And this must be your guest for the evening?”

Gojo turned to you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. The touch was subtle but firm, grounding you as much as it was a signal to stay in place. “Indeed,” he said smoothly, his tone light. “Allow me to introduce our new addition to the fold. She’s adjusting well.”

The man’s eyes swept over you, his gaze lingering a moment too long. You fought the urge to look away, forcing a polite smile that felt like a mask. “Welcome,” he said, his tone patronizing. “It’s good to see another face embracing the future we’ve built.”

You nodded, the bile rising in your throat. “Thank you,” you said, the words hollow but necessary. 

He turned back to Gojo, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “These newcomers don’t know how fortunate they are, do they? To be part of a new era, to witness the rise of true order. The Republic of Shōkan has brought us to heights we could only dream of before.” He gestured broadly, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Look at what we’ve accomplished! Peace, unity. The weak have been weeded out, and now only the strong remain. It’s survival of the fittest, the way it was always meant to be.” 

You swallowed hard, the words twisting like a knife in your gut. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him of the cost of their so-called peace—the blood, the suffering, the lives they had destroyed for their vision of power. But instead, you forced your lips to remain in that tight, polite smile, your gaze drifting to the floor as your nails dug into your palm

Gojo must have noticed the tension in your posture, because his grip on your back tightened just a fraction, his voice cutting in smoothly. “Minister Tanaka always knows how to put things into perspective,” he said, his tone lightly mocking, though it seemed to go unnoticed by the older man.

Tanaka beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “It’s true! And we’re just getting started. Once Japan is fully secured, we can begin expanding our influence even further. Imagine—a world united under the Republic’s vision!” He looked at you then, his smile widening. “You’re young. You’ll get to see it all—this world we’re building. The Republic will shape the future, and you should feel honored to be part of it.”

“Of course,” you said, the words like ash on your tongue. “It’s… an honor.”

Tanaka clapped a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, his laughter echoing through the grand hall. “You’ve got her well-trained, Gojo! It’s good to see the young ones understanding their place.” He gave you one last, lingering look before turning away, disappearing into the crowd, his laughter still ringing in your ears. 

You exhaled slowly, your chest tight, the smile slipping from your face as you turned to Gojo. His eyes were already on you, his expression unreadable, though his grip on you loosened slightly. “Good job,” he murmured, his voice so low only you could hear. “You played your part well.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you tried to steady your breathing.

Gojo’s hand slipped to your arm, his voice softening just slightly, almost as if he could sense your thoughts. “Not everyone here deserves your hatred, you know,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. “Some of them are just… doing what they think they need to do to survive.”

You looked at him, your eyes narrowing. “And what about you?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Are you just trying to survive, too?”

He paused, his smile fading just slightly, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost like regret. But then he looked away, his smile returning, though it was colder now.

“Who knows?” he said, his tone dismissive. “Maybe I’m just here for the entertainment.”

—

The dinner stretched on, each passing moment feeling heavier than the last. Courses came and went, accompanied by wine that seemed to flow endlessly, dulling the edges of conversations that were sharper than they appeared. You picked at your plate, forcing yourself to eat just enough to avoid drawing attention, your senses heightened by the oppressive air of the room.

Gojo remained at your side, his presence an infuriating mix of comfort and threat. He engaged easily with the other guests, his words charming, his smile disarming. Yet, even as he bantered and laughed, you could feel his attention on you, like a predator keeping one eye on its prey. The sound of a fork gently tapping against a glass silenced the room, the hum of conversation dissipating in an instant. All eyes turned to Gojo, who rose from his seat, his smile as dazzling as the chandeliers overhead. The air shifted, the room’s energy focusing entirely on him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice smooth, carrying just enough weight to command the room. “It seems our esteemed host, Suguru Geto, has been called away on urgent business. A pity, really—he was quite looking forward to this evening.”

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Gojo raised a hand, his smile widening. “But fear not,” he continued, his tone light, almost playful. “I’ve been asked to step in and say a few words. And I think we all know I’m never one to pass up an opportunity to talk.” Laughter filled the room, the sound grating against your nerves as Gojo lifted his glass, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

"We have come far, haven’t we? From the chaos of rebellion to the unity of true order. And it’s all thanks to the hard work, the dedication, and the loyalty of everyone in this room."

The guests murmured their agreement, a few lifting their glasses in response. Satoru’s eyes flicked to you then, his smile widening. "And speaking of dedication, I’d also like to introduce a very special guest tonight. Someone who has recently joined us, and who will, I’m sure, play a very important role in the Republic’s future." Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as every eye in the room turned to you. You forced yourself to keep your expression calm, a polite smile on your lips as Satoru placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip light but firm.

"This," he said, his voice carrying with an easy authority, "is our newest addition. A woman who, despite the circumstances of her arrival, has proven herself to be resilient, adaptable, and willing to work toward a brighter future for all of us." He paused, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment, a flicker of something dark passing behind them. "We are very lucky to have her." The applause that followed felt hollow, the smiles around you empty and false. You kept your own smile in place, your hands folded neatly in your lap, even as your heart pounded in your chest.

“And,” he added, his tone shifting slightly, “let’s not forget the people who make all of this possible. People like my good friend, Kento Nanami, whose tireless dedication to the Republic ensures that even our most ambitious plans run smoothly.”

Your stomach dropped.

The name hit you like a slap, your breath catching as you tried to process what you had just heard. Kento Nanami. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was the name Yui had whispered to you, the person the rebellion had sent to this dinner. Your head spun as you tried to reconcile the quiet rebel spy with the man Satoru spoke of so casually, so confidently, as though Kento’s loyalty to the Republic was unquestionable.

Gojo continued, oblivious to your internal turmoil. “Kento is one of the most reliable people I know,” he said, lifting his glass again. “And I’m sure we can all agree that this world would be a lot messier without his steady hand guiding the way.” The room chuckled again, and you forced yourself to join in, your laugh hollow and strained. You glanced around the table, your eyes searching for Kento, and there he was—seated several places down, his face carefully neutral, his posture relaxed. He lifted his glass in a polite nod of acknowledgment, his expression giving nothing away.

You stared at him, your mind racing. Kento Nanami. He’s the spy. He has whatever the rebellion needs. But how were you supposed to get it from him? And what could it be? Yui had been vague, leaving you to piece together what you could from the fragments of information you’d been given. You didn’t know how, but you had to find a way to get close to him, to make the exchange without drawing attention. Gojo’s presence complicated things, his every word and movement a reminder of the fine line you were walking.

The grand hall began to empty, the hum of conversation shifting as guests drifted toward other rooms or the estate gardens. You watched carefully, waiting for the right moment, your heart pounding in your chest. Kento Nanami remained at the far end of the table, speaking quietly to a pair of men whose uniforms marked them as officers. He looked composed, unhurried, but you could see the subtle tension in his posture—the way his shoulders stayed just a little too straight, his gaze lingering on the men’s faces as though measuring each word. 

Gojo was distracted, caught in a conversation with an official who gestured animatedly as he spoke. You took your chance, slipping toward the edges of the room, weaving through the clusters of guests with a practiced air of nonchalance. Your breath came shallow as you approached Kento, every nerve on edge. He noticed you before you reached him, his sharp eyes meeting yours briefly. He gave no outward reaction, but his subtle shift in stance seemed almost like permission. The officers he’d been speaking to stepped away, leaving him momentarily alone near the farthest edge of the hall.

You stepped closer, keeping your movements casual, careful not to attract attention. When you were close enough, you spoke softly, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “Kento Nanami.”

His expression didn’t change, but his gaze flicked to you, sharp and assessing. “I wasn’t aware we were on a first-name basis,” he said quietly, his voice calm, measured. 

“I think we can dispense with formalities,” you replied, forcing an edge of calm into your own voice despite the way your heart was racing. “You know why I’m here.”

For the briefest moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or calculation. He glanced around the room, his movements slow, deliberate, before returning his gaze to yours. “Do I?”

“Yui sent me,” you whispered. The name hung in the air between you like a test.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze narrowing slightly. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Reckless,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I told her not to involve anyone else.”

“Then you’ll understand that I don’t have much time,” you said, your voice firm but hushed. “Whatever it is you’re carrying, I need it.”

His eyes swept over you again, his expression unreadable. “And what makes you think you can handle it?” he asked, his tone cool. “This isn’t some message to pass along. What I have… it could change everything, but it’s useless in the wrong hands.”

Your chest tightened at his words. “I’m not here because I want to be,” you said, keeping your voice low but steady. “I’m here because I have to be. If you want to get this out of here, you’re going to need my help. They already watch me. No one will suspect I’m moving anything.” For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours as though weighing your every word, every breath. The room around you felt unbearably loud, the laughter and conversation like a mask hiding the precariousness of this moment.

Finally, he exhaled, a quiet sigh that carried the weight of resignation. “What Yui said about you… I hope she’s right.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket, his movements smooth, unhurried. When he withdrew his hand, it was clenched around a small, metallic object.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before slipping the object into your hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. “A flash drive,” he murmured. “Encrypted. Inside are documents—locations, plans, names.”

Your grip tightened around the drive, your mind racing. “And what am I supposed to do with this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed.

“Keep it safe until you can move it,” he said, his tone clipped. “Don’t let anyone near it. And don’t trust anyone—not even the people who claim to be on your side.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps cut you off. Your heart leapt into your throat as Gojo’s voice carried through the room, light and teasing.

“Nanami! Still lingering, are we?”

Kento’s expression didn’t falter, his demeanor as calm and collected as ever. “Just finishing a conversation,” he replied smoothly, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Gojo. 

Gojo’s eyes slid to you, his smirk widening. “And what are you two chatting about? It must be fascinating if it’s keeping Nanami from his usual brooding.” He then shifted to face Nanami, giving you just enough time to slip the flash drive into the chest covering part of your dress, pretending that you were adjusting the fabric. It was so smooth that you would’ve thought you had been a spy in your past life. 

“Just getting to know each other,” Nanami said lightly. “It seems we’ll be seeing a lot of the same faces moving forward.”

Gojo chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than was comfortable. “Well, don’t let Nanami bore you too much,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “He’s not exactly the life of the party.”

Kento gave a faint nod, stepping back slightly. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, his tone polite but detached. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with Gojo. Your pulse hammered in your ears as you forced yourself to stand still, to stay calm, even as you felt the weight of the flash drive hidden against your skin. 

As you walked toward the grand doors with Gojo beside you, the evening’s events swirled in your mind. The weight of the flash drive hidden against your skin pressed heavily with every step, the enormity of its contents threatening to overwhelm you. You forced yourself to stay calm, to keep your breathing steady, though your heart was still pounding in your ears.

The corridor leading out of the grand hall was crowded with officers and guests, their conversations blending into a low hum as they slowly dispersed. You maneuvered through the throng, your heels clicking against the polished marble, Gojo’s casual gait beside you a stark contrast to your careful steps.

But then, in a moment of distraction, your foot landed squarely on someone else’s. 

The man, an officer, his uniform immaculate and adorned with medals, let out a sharp hiss of pain, his head whipping around to glare at you. His face was flushed, his eyes bloodshot, the scent of wine lingering in the air around him. “You little —” he growled, and before you could apologize or step back, his hand swung out.

The slap was fast, hard, and merciless. It struck you across the cheek with enough force to send you stumbling, your heels skidding against the smooth floor. You hit the ground, the cold marble biting against your palms and knees as pain blossomed across your face, hot and stinging. “Watch where you’re going,” the officer snapped, his voice sharp and filled with venom. “And remember your place. You’re here by their mercy, not because you belong.” The words cut deeper than the slap, but you refused to let him see the hurt. You clenched your teeth, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. You wanted to scream at him, to lash out, but you knew better. You knew that any defiance would only make things worse. You gritted your teeth, your head spinning as you struggled to push yourself up, the sting in your cheek radiating with every movement. 

The room had gone quiet, the low hum of conversation silenced as all eyes turned toward the commotion. You could feel their stares, their judgment, the weight of their disdain pressing down on you like a lead blanket.

But then, before you could fully rise, a shadow loomed over you.

Satoru Gojo.

He stepped between you and the officer, his expression shifting in an instant from lazy amusement to something colder, sharper, and far more dangerous. His hand reached out, and for a moment, you thought he was going to help you up. Instead, he grabbed the officer by the front of his uniform, his grip deceptively casual as he pulled the man close. “I’m sorry,” Gojo said, his tone light but dripping with malice. “I must have missed the part where you thought it was acceptable to lay a hand on her.”

The officer swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “My apologies, sir,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Gojo didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended a hand to you, his gaze meeting yours. There was something in his eyes—something cold, calculated, but also… protective. It made your stomach twist, your emotions tangling in confusion. 

You hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. His grip was strong, and he pulled you to your feet effortlessly. You winced as you stood, the side of your face still throbbing from the impact, but you forced yourself to stand tall, refusing to let your fear or pain show. Gojo’s attention shifted back to the officer, his smile returning, though it was more of a smirk—dangerous and mocking. “You should go,” he said, his voice almost bored. “Before I decide you need a reminder of your place.”

The officer nodded quickly, stepping back, his eyes avoiding yours as he turned and hurried away. The guests who had witnessed the scene began to disperse, their murmurs filling the silence as they quickly turned their attention elsewhere, as though eager to pretend nothing had happened.

Gojo’s hand lingered on your arm, his touch just light enough to seem casual, but firm enough to keep you steady. He chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “They forget sometimes,” he said, his gaze drifting to where the officer had disappeared. “That some people are… off-limits.”

You forced a smile, nodding. “I’ll be more careful.”

He watched you for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on your face, on the mark that was already forming where you’d been struck. And then, as if deciding that the moment had passed, he turned, gesturing for you to follow.

“Come on,” he said, his tone casual once more. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

— 

Back in your room, you were quick to rid yourself of the dress. Your cheek throbbed where the officer’s hand had struck, the sting radiating through your jaw and down your neck. You moved to the small washbasin near the corner, splashing cold water on your face and watching as it dripped into the porcelain below.

The bruise was already beginning to form, faint but unmistakable, a reminder of your place in this fractured world. You stared at your reflection in the rising water for a long moment, the events of the evening swirling in your mind—the tension at the dinner, Kento’s warning, the weight of the flash drive hidden beneath a floorboard near the bed that you had found a few days ago when you were reading your file. 

You changed into the simple clothes that had been left for you—a soft cotton shirt and loose pants—before sinking down onto the edge of the bed. The silence of your room felt heavy, pressing down on you as you tried to process everything that had happened, everything that was yet to come. You let out a slow breath, your body aching, your mind spinning with thoughts of the rebellion and what might come next. But your thoughts wouldn’t quiet, replaying the events of the dinner, the officer’s strike, the way Gojo had looked at you—cold, calculating, but almost… protective. It made no sense. Nothing about him made sense. 

There was a soft knock at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat, fear and adrenaline rushing through you as you sat up. Before you could respond, the door opened, and Satoru Gojo stepped inside.

He moved with the same easy grace he always had, his gaze finding yours immediately. His expression was softer now, his eyes lacking the usual sharpness that made you feel like he was peeling away your layers. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you, his mouth set in a line that was neither a smile nor a frown.

“You’re supposed to knock,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your words carrying more exhaustion than actual reprimand.

He chuckled softly, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the room. “I did knock,” he said, his tone light. “You just didn’t answer.” He approached slowly, his gaze flickering to your cheek. He winced slightly, his smile fading as he took in the dark bruise that marred your skin. He moved closer, standing at the edge of your bed, his voice lowering. “Let me see.” You hesitated, your breath catching in your throat, but you nodded, turning your head slightly to give him a better view. He knelt beside the bed, his eyes narrowing as he studied the bruise, his expression softening in a way you weren’t used to.

“That bastard really got you, didn’t he?” he murmured, his fingers hovering near your cheek but not quite touching. There was something in his voice—something that almost sounded like regret. 

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “It’s not the worst thing that’s happened,” you said quietly.

Gojo’s gaze flicked up to yours, and for a moment, you saw something behind his eyes, something vulnerable, something almost kind. It was disarming, this glimpse of him that didn’t match the man you knew, the man who had been your captor, your tormentor.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

The words hung between you, and you found yourself wanting to believe him, wanting to see the sincerity in his eyes as real, as something that you could trust. For a brief, dangerous moment, you thought about the flash drive hidden beneath the floorboards. You thought about telling him — about sharing the weight of what you carried, about letting him in, trusting that maybe he would help you.

Your lips parted, your heart pounding, but then you remembered.

Don’t trust anyone. Yui’s words echoed in your mind, a stark reminder of the reality you lived in. The people in this place, Gojo included, played their own games, had their own agendas. Gojo was powerful, dangerous, and whatever kindness he showed you, it was only a part of the larger web of manipulation and control that bound you to this place.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slightly, pushing the thought away. You couldn’t afford to trust him. Not now. Not ever. 

“It’s fine,” you said, your voice steady, the mask slipping back into place. “I’ll be fine.”

Gojo studied you for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours as if he could see the thoughts you were hiding, the things you weren’t saying. Then, slowly, he nodded, his gaze softening. He lingered for a moment, as if there was something else he wanted to say, but then he turned, moving toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, glancing back at you, his gaze lingering for just a beat too long before he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him, and you were alone again. The silence settled around you, the tension in your chest slowly easing as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed your hand to the floorboards, feeling the weight of the flash drive beneath it, the dangerous secret that could change everything.

—

The quiet crackle of the fire was the first thing you noticed when you stirred in the middle of the night. The room, bathed in a soft, flickering orange glow, felt warmer than it had before. You sat up slowly, your mind foggy with sleep, and saw Hana crouched by the fireplace, her back to you. She was stoking the flames, her movements efficient and quiet, as though she didn’t want to disturb you. You watched her for a moment, your heart slowing as you took in the scene. Snow was falling outside, visible through the frosted edges of the tall window. The flakes drifted lazily, blanketing the estate grounds in a pale, cold stillness. It was almost beautiful, in a way that made your chest ache.

Hana didn’t speak as she adjusted the fire, and when she was satisfied with her work, she stood, brushing the soot from her hands. She glanced at you briefly, her expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the room without a word. The door clicked softly shut behind her, and you were alone again.

You stared at the fire, its warmth reaching out toward you, chasing away the lingering chill in the room. The flames danced and flickered, alive and untamed, and something about them drew you in. You slipped out of bed, your bare feet making no sound as you moved toward the fireplace.

Your file sat on the nearby table, where you’d left it earlier. The neat stack of papers, bound together so methodically, was a record of everything you used to be. Every accomplishment, every failure, every detail of the person you had been before this nightmare began. It had been given to you like a weapon, a reminder of the life that had been stripped from you and the role you were now expected to play. You picked it up, your fingers brushing over the cover.

The fire crackled again, louder this time, and you looked at it, the flames reflecting in your eyes. Slowly, you moved closer, the file clutched tightly in your hands. You knelt by the fire, staring at the flames as they danced, alive and hungry. You opened the file, flipping through the pages one last time. The words blurred together, meaningless now, each line a ghost of a life you no longer recognized.

With trembling hands, you fed the first page into the fire. The flames caught it instantly, devouring it with a hiss, and you watched as the paper curled and blackened, the words disappearing into ash. One by one, you fed the pages to the fire, each one a small act of defiance, a quiet rebellion against the weight of the past.

When the last page was gone, you sat back, your hands empty, your chest heaving with the weight of what you’d done. The fire burned brighter now, the warmth spreading through the room, and you felt… lighter. Freer.

The snow continued to fall outside, the world beyond your window blanketed in white. You stared into the flames, the heat warming your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself breathe. You weren’t the person in that file anymore. You didn’t know who you were, not yet. But you knew one thing for certain: You were still alive. And as long as you were alive, you still had the power to change things.

The woman in that file was dead. 

You were what remains. 

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was �� by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

List of words for the computer:

LONG POST- more under the cut

STANFORD- Pulls up a file on Stanford Pines, written by an unknown scientist. It discusses his extra finger and praises his intelligence, as well as calling him the “next evolution in the human species”.

BILL CIPHER- Takes you to the Wikipedia page for the Eye of Providence. Also took me to a Sesame Street video about a Jazzy Triangle and a Square. Not sure what prompted the change.

STANLEY PINES: Takes you to a list of EBay listings for brass knuckles.

FIDDLEFORD: Takes you to the music video for Cotton Eye Joe by Rednex.

SHERMIE: Nothing. I sure do wish we got some lore about Grandpa Pines.

GRAVITY FALLS: The text on the computer reads “never heard of it” and the red light on the bottom turns green.

ALEX HIRSCH: Leads to Google Images for “flannel”. Huh.

WEIRDMAGEDDON: Pulls up an article from the Gravity Falls Gossiper about how nothing happened at all and there was no apocalypse.

DISNEY: Screen reads “rat.gif censored for your protection”

SOOS: Leads to a page of writing from Soos himself, referencing many things (including Tad Strange being gay and madly in love with Woodpecker Guy. Love wins!!!)

DIPPER: Leads to a creepy yellow parchment with a message from Bill Cipher himself trying to trick Dipper into blinding himself by staring at the sun for 13 hours straight! Silly! (Also if you keep clicking on it, the page gets darker and blurrier until it implies we've gone blind)

MABEL: Causes stickers to appear on every available surface. Clicking it enough times leads to message “lab now fully Mabelized”.

WENDY: Leads to a note from Wendy that mentions a way to ward off evil triangles written in the bottom corner of the book.

GIDEON: Makes a web recording of Gideon scatting play. It ends with “I love you forever Mabel”. Please shut the fuck up you little creep.

TAD STRANGE: Plays a video of bread with smooth jazz in the background.

TOBY DETERMINED: Leads to a Google search for a restraining order. Holyyyyy shittttttt

WHO ARE YOU: “I could ask you the same question”

SEASON 3: “Season Two”. I guess that’s that lol

This was about all I could find. Please reblog with anything else you can discover! Thank you, fellow Gravity Falls enjoyers!

And make sure to give some love to all the wonderful folks down in the comments! Many of these answers and tips come from what they've found. I can't list everyone, unfortunately- I didn't expect this post to get popular- but, to everyone who's helped out, THANK YOU.

FURTHER EDITS:

BLIND EYE: Pulls up an optometrist’s eye exam. Each line reads “WKHBOOVHH”. Too lazy to translate atm.

PIÑATA: Bill Cipher getting beaten to death /hj

MASON: A note from Dipper listing several anagrams of Gravity Falls characters’ names. You can check in the comments for the answers.

AXOLOTL: “You ask alotl questions”. Thanks for the pun, Alex, but I’m kind of losing my mind rn

MYSTERY SHACK: Leads to a Google search for Confusion Hill, the real-life Mystery Shack!

MYSTERY: “?”

MONSTER: Leads to several YouTube videos for “There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.”

VALLIS CINERIS: Leads to an analog-horror-esque video of Baby Bill and his parents, who have been blotted out by static, and a voice repeating “WHY DID YOU DO IT” over and over again until you stop the video.

PORTAL: “Portal.exe has been deleted. I bet you could build a new one.”

GIFFANY: You need to put it in multiple times. Several warnings about breaching firewall, followed by a message from GIFFANY saying “SOOS! I still love you!” or smth like that, and then GIFFANY herself briefly appearing onscreen. Trying again after that summons her more. Also lets you download some ZIP files.

DORITO: Summons an image of a spinning Dorito, followed by the most cursed image of Bill Cipher I have ever seen.

GOD: A short video of an axolotl in a tank with a Bill Cipher statue plays. This is Alex’s axolotl, shown in the Book of Bill countdown.

REALITY: “Is an illusion”

FILBRICK: “I’m not impressed”

CARYN: “I knew you were gonna write that”

GLASS SHARD BEACH: Leads to an image of the New Jersey Hell Hole.

ANY CUSS WORD: Pulls up a paper reading “NOT S&P APPROVED. WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP” with an image of soap below.

MATPAT: Leads to a video of MatPat next to a conspiracy board, holding the Book of Bill. He tells us we’re on our own.

BABBA: Plays an audio recording of Dipper singing BABBA. Not Disco Girl, a different song.

CRAZ: Leads to the Jem and the Holograms theme.

XYLER: See above.

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA: Shows us two new journal pages from Ford and Mabel, studying the Cipher statue. They’re definitely worth the read, I teared up looking at them.

ANSWER: “Question”

QUESTION: “Answer”

SEASON ONE: “Season -1: Antigravity Falls”

SEASON TWO: “Season 1” …maybe scratch what I said about Season 3. Or don’t. Things are starting to damage my brain.

CURSED (got from @slimslamflimflam decoding the candle! Thanks!): Shows two pages talking about the dangers of drawing triangles, with the bottom of the second page showing several drawings of Bill and the words “HE IS COMING, RUN”

THE UNIVERSE: “Hologram”

RIZZ: “Life privileges revoked. Now releasing poison gas.” This response is repeated if you type in SKIBIDI or FORTNITE.

BABY: Shows an ultrasound of a fetus Bill Cipher, captioned “Look at what’s growing inside you! See you in nine months, papa!”

JOURNAL 3: “The Journal for Me”

PACIFICA: Leads to a note from Pacifica calling Bill Cipher “ick” and telling us to follow her on social media under “Platinum Paz”

PLATINUM PAZ: Pulls up an image of Northwest Manor with the llama symbol overlaid and a “NW” logo beneath. There's also a short story beneath!

LOVE: Leads to an audiobook of “The Love Triangle”. Need to read later.

BLENDIN: “The time agent lost and presumed incompetent”. Uh…?

SCARY: Leads to another audiobook of a cheesy Goosebumps-esque horror novel written by Bill himself, apparently.

DIVORCE: Shows you the logo of the bar Bill went to after his fight with Ford… Billford bitter exes confirmed

ROBBIE: Leads to the cringiest messages ever. He’s such a failure I love him

CONSPIRACY: Leads to a video of a man losing his mind over the countdown counting up. I feel so seen. (I have been informed that his name is Charlie Day, he's an actor from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and that one meme, he had a quote on the back of the Book of Bill, thanks to everyone who explained that to me, I'm sorry, I'm uncultured)

RAT: “Thurburt’s number?”

BLANCHIN: Leads to a YouTube video on how to blanch vegetables.

TJ ECKLEBURG: “Never mention that name again.”

NOTHING: “Something”

SOMETHING: “Nothing”

BURNSIDE: “Burned inside.” Well… at least we know what happened…

WADDLES: Leads to the pig placement network!

THERAPRISM: Pulls up a sign from the theraprism regarding an emergency situation. The code reads "THE OLD ONE".

SHAPE: Pulls up an article on Plato, triangles, and Ancient Greece. This article is presumably written by Bill.

LLIB and BILL: THIS leads to the Sesame Street video every time.

WEIRD: Shows a video of a frightened Weird Al panicking about being trapped in a computer. Sorry, man...

CLONE: Pulls up an image of Paper Jam Dipper, a warning about not getting him too close to liquids, and an option to print.

TRIANGLE: ")" or "Tri harder."

THEYLLSEE: "Is seeing believing?"

DEER TEETH: "For you, kid!"

LIFE: "Life: 72% complete. Now loading: death."

DEATH: "Life's goth cousin."

PINES: "A good family tree."

OWL TROWEL: A slab of hieroglyphs, translating to an ancient ad for an owl trowel.

SCALENE: "Life form not found." EUCLID has the same outcome.

WELL WELL WELL BEING: Some assorted notes from Bill's Theraprism file. These include his greatest love and fear, his art therapy notes, and notes on his phobias. Three clicks is required to read them all.

BOO BERRY: Offers a poem on the meaning of life! Wow! I feel so enlightened!

LOVE YA BRO: Shows us a doodle from Stan of one of his and Ford's Sea Grunks adventures, and another code on the back. It translates to "Kings of New Jersey." I've been told it lets you download the code as a font.

SORRY: Reveals the repaired Backupsmore photo, with a note from Fiddleford about his and Ford's growing friendship. Fiddauthor fans, we are eating well tonight!

HORROR: Pulls up an image and report on The Always Garden, which is essentially a cheap Italian restaurant hidden in the backrooms.

HOLOGRAM: "Universe."

NAITSUAF: Pulls up a page that looks like it would be from the Book of Bill, in which Bill tries to convince us to sell us his soul. Clicking "ARE YOU READY?" pulls up a contract where we can sell our soul to Bill (with an alarming amount of coded fine print. Will need to translate later). You can print this document out, back out, or sign it right there on the web. Hitting "SIGN" causes the words "PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU!" to appear, and the document to close. In other words, I no longer have a soul.

IMSTILLONYOURMIND: Plays a recording of the ocean, with Stan faintly talking in the background. Poor Ford ain't quite over the divorce yet...

HOTXOLOTL: Pulls up a "MOST WANTED" doc on the henchmaniacs.

SEVENEYES: Pulls up a faded polaroid of The Oracle with text on the back that reads "LEAVE HIM. Escape to dimension *blurred out*. It's against the rules but it's the only reality where you'll be safe from him." The code at the bottom (once again decoded by the powerhouse that is @slimslamflimflam) reads "Set a course for Dimension: R34LITY." Is another Cipher Hunt in the makes? Only time will tell, hehehe.

JUST FIT IN: Plays an old commercial with a few moments of speech in the glitches at the end.

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES: Shows a transcript from a therapy session at the Theraprism. Bill discusses his relationship with Ford and cuts off the session when someone brings up his parents.

NOT A PHASE: Shows a Google search for "black hair dye stained an entire bathroom."

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN: Instantly downloads a page of fleshy pink paper with the word "ENJOY" written on it!

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA: Pulls up a few more pages about the human life cycle.

LIES: Pulls up an image of "The Game of Lies" board game, with a long stretch of text from (I assume) Bill, ending with "LIE UNTIL YOU ARE NOT LYING ANYMORE." Someone has some issues...

SAY BAAAA: Pulls up a neat little rhyme about being Bill Cipher's obedient flock of sheep. The code at the end translates to "Black Sheep."

ONE EYED KING: Plays a video of a hypnotist's spiral, with Bill proclaiming "YOU WANT TO PLEDGE YOUR SOUL TO BILL CIPHER" in the background. There is also morse code that translates to "NAITSUAF", leading to a previous discovery- the soul contract.

TANTRUM: Pulls up a transcript of a spat between Bill and Time Baby.

TITANS BLOOD: "HOOT HOOT! Password please!"

CURSE WITTEBANE: Pulls up an image of a Bill Cipher ouija board.

FORDTRAMARINE: Pulls up several rejected files from Ford trying to convince us Fordtramarine exists.

SUCK IT MERLIN: Pulls up a tapestry of Bill riding a unicorn. The code at the top reads "DAY MARE VS NIGHTMARE."

HEY NERD: Plays a commercial advertising things such as a Bill Cipher calendar, the Scrubba-Bill, a severed hand, and the entire Cygnus-XIII galaxy. Half of the image can be found in the Book of Bill.

DESTRUCTION IS THE FORM OF CREATION: Pulls up a frantic page of notes from post-portal-shit Fiddleford. A sticky note at the bottom has a code that reads "Unreality."

RUBBERHOSE: Plays "The World is Small Ever After for All."

IRREGULAR: Shows us Bill's mugshot in color. The code below reads "No prison or attention span can hold him."

UNREALITY: Offers a guide by Bill on how to become immortal.

GUN: "Oh yes oh yes oh yes they both."

ABUELITA: Leads to a video on vacuuming the walls.

YES: "What's McGucket's favorite soda?"

NO: "Your loss..."

REPEATEDLY CLICKING STAN: This stuff deserves a section of its own, away from the OG Stan stuff. It takes you through several Ebay listings on various Stan-ish items until you get to a page written by Bill about Stan's secret shames. "Ex-wives" further confirms our theory on Stan and Eda's relationship, as well as revealing many other bits of lore. "Fears" is somewhat goofy to be honest. "Secret Shames" reveals that Stan is a fanfiction writer and that his mother is the only member of his family who truly loves him outside of Ford and the kids. "Unreported Crimes" is somewhat goofy as well. "Failed Products" basically confirms that Stan is that world's Alex. "Lowest Moments" is genuinely depressing, and "Darkest Thought". Well. I'm not spoiling it lol. And the bit on "How He Beat Me" causes Bill to get more and more frantic/angry the more you click it! Comedy GOLD!

DIPPY FRESH: Leads to a Reddit post of the Burger King Kids Club.

MEOW: Leads to a TikTok of a man playing the Gravity Falls theme on that cap keyboard.

HELP ME: Pulls up another video of Alex's axolotl and the tiny statue. Rip Bill ig :/

R34LITY: Pulls up several photos of the henchmaniacs in live-action, captioned "They found a new home."

JOURNAL 1: "The journal of fun."

JOURNAL 2: "The journal for you."

FBI: "Your webcam is on. We are watching."

BURNED INSIDE: Shows an image of a charred Oregon Parks badge and nametag on the ground.

HECTORING: Plays a silly little country song!

OROBOROUS: Pulls up two journal pages about Fiddleford buying Ford an axolotl to keep him company, and Bill subsequently telling Ford to get rid of him. There's also some code on the first page that reads "CHONKY BOY." Ford, you wonderful dork.

[crystallinestars]

Just Confess Already!

A collection of drabbles about how your man's closest companions help him overcome his fears and finally confess his feelings for you.

Characters: Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Lyney, Itto, Childe, and Baizhu.

Now proofread.

Wriothesley:

🐺 Ever since Sigewinne saw you and Wriothesley in each other’s company, she instantly figured out you two liked each other. She knew you had feelings for the Duke because she has exceptional people-reading skills and could see right through you. You tried to hide your feelings from Wriothesley, but Sigewinne could tell how your heart raced when in his presence, the subtle heat in your cheeks and the secret glances you threw his way when you thought he wasn’t looking. Honestly, she might have thought you had a fever at first if these symptoms didn’t occur only when the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide was around. Since you hid your feelings, Sigewinne assumed that you weren’t certain if Wriothesley liked you back, to which the Fortress’s nurse could only shake her head because how can you not see he likes you?

🐺 Wriothesley knows your favorite tea blend like the back of his hand, and yet he constantly invites you to try out a new blend he made that he thinks you’ll like. Everyone knows how much the Duke loves tea, but surely you can tell that he uses the tea as an excuse to get you to stay longer and spend more time with him? Moreover, Wriothesley shows off more in front of you, trying to impress you with his extensive tea collection intellect, hospitality, physique—anything, really. Sigewinne could tell how his body language shifted to appear more confident, how his voice pitched a little lower to an almost sultry timbre, and yet despite his laidback smile, the micro-expressions on his face told her clear as day that he was nervous about interacting with you. Much like you, he hid his feelings because he wasn’t sure if you liked him. Even when Sigewinne tells him that you do like him back, the Duke doesn’t fully believe her, the idiot.

🐺 Once she gets fed up with watching the two of you pussyfoot around each other, Sigewinne comes up with a covert plan on how to get at least one of you to confess their feelings. She comes up with excuses to send you over to see Wriothesley (and as expected, he keeps you around longer than you intend), finds out what foods and flowers you like to pass that information to Wriothesley in a casual conversation (and suddenly you find your favorite snacks or flowers delivered to you from an unknown sender), and consistently eavesdrops on your pair to make sure things were going smoothly. As expected, her plan works like a charm and it doesn’t take long for Wriothesley to confess to you, much to the Melusine’s delight. Later on when she and the Duke have lunch together, she’ll congratulate him on his new relationship before smugly saying “I told you Y/N liked you too.”

Neuvillette:

⚖️ Neuvillette’s emotions were generally a mystery to most people, even to the Melusines working under him. However, all it took was for one Melusine to see the soft and tender look in the Chief Justice’s eyes when he gazed at you during one of your outings, and before long, every Melusine in Fontaine heard the news that their beloved Monsieur Neuvillette found a human to love. At first they were just rumors, but a few Melusines working at Palais Mermonia confirmed that the reclusive Iudex did indeed make time in his busy schedule to see you regularly. The evidence all pointed to the idea that Neuvillette and you must be lovers, because why else would the Chief Justice give you such special treatment compared to most other humans? Their assumption was almost correct. Neuvillette did indeed love you, but the two of you weren’t a couple.

⚖️ With this revelation, the Melusines begin approaching you more frequently than before, many of them greeting and congratulating you. When you ask them what they were congratulating you for, they only reply with “Why, on your engagement of course!” before skipping away to carry out their duties without giving you a chance to ask who you were supposedly engaged to. Your puzzlement persists until one day, when you were having your regular meeting with Neuvillette to relax over a cup of water tea, a Melusine approached your pair to congratulate you on your engagement to each other. You almost spat out your drink as the puzzle pieces fell into place, and could only watch with wide eyes as Neuvillette gently corrected the Melusine, telling her that you weren’t engaged before patting her head in comfort. Though he appeared his usual composed self, internally he was as flustered as you. Understanding her mistake, the Melusine sheepishly apologized before leaving to tell her sisters the truth behind your relationship.

⚖️ The news sadden the Melusines, but they figure that if the two of you aren’t together, then they can help you! In their eyes, both you and Neuvillette really liked each other based on how each of you behaved around the other. A few of them take it upon themselves to give you a little push by telling you all about how kind, gracious, just, and reliable Neuvillette is. He’s so amazing, surely you want to spend your life with a man like him by your side, right? As for Neuvillette, though Melusines aren’t experts on human courtship, they observed enough human couples to give the Iudex suggestions on how to court you. One Melusine recommends he give you flowers, and Neuvillette doesn’t have the heart to disappoint her, so one day he gifts you a bouquet of flowers while awkwardly avoiding your gaze. The process of getting you two together is a slow one, but once you finally become a couple after a long period of pining, the Melusines celebrate and congratulate you (this time for good reason), overjoyed to have helped bring your hearts together.

Kaveh:

🍷 Mehrak may be an artificial life form, but it can tell that its owner likes you. Like, really likes you to the point of doodling your image in his sketchbook, saving up as much money as he can to take you out to eat, and taking a ridiculous amount of time getting ready when he has plans to meet up with you. He has to look perfect for you, or so Kaveh told Mehrak. Having seen how infatuated it’s owner is with you, and also seen the lovestruck gaze you give the architect every time you two meet, Mehrak concludes that Kaveh and you must be a loving couple with how you pine for one another. But as time passes, Mehrak realizes that you two aren’t holding hands, hugging, or kissing like the couples it has seen do, and the sentient suitcase becomes confused. In its mind, you two are already together, so why aren’t you being as affectionate as it knows you want to be? Perhaps you two need a little push to get closer, it thinks, before it comes up with things it could do to help.

🍷 From there, whenever Kaveh designs new buildings, Mehrak will do its best to incorporate design elements it knows you like into Kaveh’s sketches. Kaveh knows what you like too, and easily recognizes your favorite flowers in the garden blueprints, fountains in the courtyard (because you said you like them), as well as your favorite vases and rugs in the interior blueprints. They’re not what Kaveh was planning, and he scolds Mehrak for deviating from his vision, but the little suitcase doesn’t stop. When it sees items or foods you like on display in the street stalls, it will fly over to them and give a cheerful chirp as if signaling Kaveh to buy them to give you as a gift. But out of everything Mehrak does, what flusters Kaveh the most is when it drags him to you. When Mehrak spots you in the distance, it grows excited and flies over to greet you thereby yanking the poor architect with it who can do nothing but hold onto his creation for dear life.

🍷 Mehrak’s efforts eventually pay off because there comes a point where Kaveh can’t stop thinking about you. He already thought about you a lot as evident by his sketches of you in his private notebook, but Mehrak’s actions served to constantly remind the architect of you and made him fall even more in love with you. It’s at this point that Kaveh gathers up the courage to finally confess to you. Mehrak couldn’t be happier to see the two of you together once you accept Kaveh’s feelings, even doing a little happy dance in celebration of completing its mission.

Tighnari:

🍄 Collei won’t know that her teacher likes you until one fateful evening when she heads toward Tighnari’s living quarters to ask him a question, and accidentally overhears him and Cyno talking about Tighnari’s romantic feelings for you. It comes as a surprise to her because she genuinely had no idea her teacher loved you. He didn’t seem to treat you any differently from anyone else, but that’s only because Tighnari does a really good job at keeping his feelings on the down low. Now that she knew, suddenly everything made sense. All the times Tighnari freed up his busy schedule to provide you help when you asked for it, the way he attentively listened to you and was the first to help if you got injured, his many gifts of various potions and plants that were good for your health, and even the fact that he frequently let you touch his ears and tail were all subtle signs of his affection for you!

🍄 With this new knowledge in hand, Collei schedules a day to hang out with you. Her main goal was to get your help with some of her reading materials since you often helped her when Tighnari was too busy, but her second reason was to ask you about your feelings for her teacher. When she works up the courage to breach the question, she gets the best answer she could have hoped for. You told her you really liked Tighnari, and Collei’s eyes practically sparkle in excitement. She respects your request to not tell Tighnari about your feelings, but unfortunately ends up breaking that promise, but not of her own free will.

🍄 When she tried subtly pushing Tighnari into courting you, she wasn’t as slick about it as she thought because her teacher is too perceptive, and Tighnari quickly found out what she was planning. The forest ranger confronted her about her strange behaviour, and Collei felt pressured to tell him everything. She tells him all about the conversation she overheard between him and Cyno, how his feelings for you were mutual, and about her good intentions to help you and him get together. Tighnari isn’t mad at her. If anything, he might thank her later for giving him this information, but not before giving her a talking-to about messing in other people’s business. Though her plans didn’t go as expected and she had to reveal your secret, in the end, things still worked out the way she hoped. After that fateful conversation, Tighnari sought you out to finally make his feelings for you clear, and Collei felt a sense of accomplishment at having done something good for the people she cared about.

Lyney:

🎩 Lynette knows pretty quickly when her brother develops a crush on you. The way he ekes out time out of his schedule to visit you regularly and his constant flirting are some of his tells. And if that wasn’t obvious enough, then the silly grin he wears while talking about you, and the magic tricks he designs and practices for hours on end just to impress you with are all Lynette needs to know that Lyney is down bad for you. Knowing about her brother’s romantic feelings, Lynette will tag along with him during some of his meetings with you to observe and get to know you better. She is pleasantly surprised to learn that you like Lyney back, and finds some amusement in watching the two of you grow flustered with each other’s flirting. Even so, she honestly would much rather not witness her brother flirting and trying to court the object of his affection since she finds it icky and feels like a third wheel.

🎩 Despite her reservations, Lynette does her best to support Lyney’s love life since she wants him to be happy. She watches Lyney’s feelings grow from a crush to full-fledged love over the passage of time, and the growing nervousness and anxiety that comes with it. Lyney spends a lot of time coming up with magic tricks to impress you with and practices them until they’re polished and come like second nature to him. Even so, he still gets really nervous about performing them for you, even doubting whether you’ll like them. That’s when Lynette comes in with words of encouragement and support to try and ease his nerves. If that doesn’t work, she tells Lyney point blank that you like him back. Had these words come from anyone else, Lyney wouldn’t have believed them. However, because it’s Lynette whom he knows is really good at reading people, Lyney believes her, albeit with a great deal of questions about how she can be so sure about her deduction.

🎩 Even now knowing you like him back, Lyney is still too nervous to confess, so Lynette changes tactics. She tries to give you hints about Lyney’s feelings for you, calling out his behaviour right in front of you by saying things like “You’ve never given me any Rainbow Roses, and yet give Y/N a whole bunch of them!” or “Lyney pulled a lot of all-nighters to try and perfect this trick just to show you”, much to Lyney’s dismay. Lynette does this in part because she likes to tease her brother, but also because she hopes you’ll get the hint and maybe confess your feelings first if Lyney won’t. Regardless of who confesses first, the end result will still be Lyney and you becoming lovers because Lynette can be a surprisingly good wingwoman. It brings a small smile to her lips to see the two of you happy in each other’s company now that your feelings are out in the open. All she wants is for her brother to be happy, and she’s glad that he can find that happiness with you.

Itto:

🐂 The Arataki gang had long been aware of Itto’s feelings for you, what with how frequently Itto talks about you and how he turns into an awkward, blushing mess when you’re around. Genta, Mamoru, and Akira decide to team up to concoct a series of plans on how to finally get you and Itto together, and agree that first Itto should try to court you to win your heart. They recommend Itto a bunch of romantic and affordable gifts he could give you, street stalls to take you to for delicious (and cheap) food, as well as the type of compliments Itto should say to flatter you (though all Itto can manage is “You have, uh… really nice hair!”). It's a whole operation the gang affectionately calls Operation: Helping Boss win Y/N’s heart. Shinobu has to keep a watchful eye on the proceedings of said operation lest her friends get carried away and start planning an expensive wedding before you and Itto even become a couple.

🐂 When Itto feels like it’s time for him to confess his feelings to you, he invites you to meet under a large sakura tree. The Arataki gang come along with him and sit in the nearby bushes to spy on the two of you. You’ll hear hushed “You can do it, boss! We believe in you!” from the bushes as the gang members encourage Itto and give him thumbs up. As much as Itto appreciates his boys’ support, now is not the time, he thinks as he looks at you with flushed cheeks, flustered by his group’s antics. Shinobu facepalms off to the side before dragging Mamoru, Akira, and Genta away to give you and Itto some privacy, but silently wishes him luck with his confession before leaving.

🐂 The gang eagerly awaits the results of the confession, feeling just as nervous as Itto. However, they don’t have to wait long because Itto’s loud whoop of joy soon reverberates through the area, indicating that you accepted his feelings. A little while later, the boys will throw a party to celebrate the occasion, splurging on some tasty food and drink, and congratulate Itto on finding love. Though they want to find love themselves, they’re still incredibly proud of their boss because they know the effort it took him to get to this point. Even Shinobu offers Itto a couple of words of congratulations. From then on, the gang will work hard to welcome you into their group and give you as much respect as they give Itto due to your status as his lover.

Childe:

🐋 From the way Childe talked about you in his letters, his younger siblings were convinced that you and him were already dating. Wanting to meet the person special to their big brother’s heart, they begged and pleaded with him to invite you over to introduce you to them. Once Ajax relents and brings you to meet his family, his younger siblings swarm you with questions about yourself and their brother, before Teucer enthusiastically asks when you’ll be marrying Ajax. You exchange awkward glances with Childe, and before the Harbinger can even attempt to resolve the misunderstanding, with a heavy heart you explain to Teucer that you and Ajax are not even dating (hearing that kind of hurts Childe, he won’t lie).

🐋 The expressions of shock and disappointment that Teucer and the rest of the younger siblings give you is honestly heart-wrenching and makes you feel a little guilty. “So, you don’t like big brother?” Teucer asks sadly. You correct him and admit that you do like Ajax, but you don’t specify exactly how. The children will pester you to tell them what kind of “like” you mean, but thankfully Ajax saves you from their badgering. Only Tonia figures out that your “like” is more of a “love”, but she is smart enough to not blab about your feelings to Teucer and Anton.

🐋 Despite their earlier disappointment, the children take a liking to you and constantly ask Ajax to bring you along on their family adventures or simply invite you to play games with them. During your hangouts, the children tell you about how Childe talks about you in his letters, basically ratting out his feelings for you much to Childe’s mortification. They also try to convince you to date their brother because, in their eyes, you two make a cute couple and Ajax looks really happy when next to you. The children won’t know if their words managed to convince you until the night when you and Childe were preparing dinner in their kitchen. Tonia and her brothers had a question they wanted to ask you, however as they approached the kitchen, Tonia overheard you and her older brother discussing your feelings for one another. With a smile, she quietly lead Anton and Teucer away to give you two some time to sort out your feelings, though she’s confident that by tomorrow you will be an honorary addition to their family, and perhaps a real member sometime in the near future.

Baizhu:

🐍 Changsheng can easily tell that Baizhu likes you. The doctor is always polite and cordial, but with you he acts especially sweet and takes time to have a casual chat with you when you come to pick up your medicine. Fed up with constantly seeing him giving you pining glances, Changsheng asks why he won’t just confess to you and get this pining over with, to which Baizhu retorts that he’s too busy to manage a proper relationship. He worries he would be too busy to give those he loves enough time and attention, but he also fears that you don’t feel the same way. His response and stubbornness frustrate Changsheng.

🐍 Her frustration continues to grow when she observes you and notices that telltale nervous and bashful behaviour of yours whenever you talk to Baizhu. You don’t behave that way when talking to Qiqi or Gui, and you also inquire about Baizhu’s health often, clearly worried about him. Clearly, you like him more than just as your doctor. Changsheng feels like screaming when the three of you are in the same room together, forced to endure watching both Baizhu and you pining for one another, yet not making a move.

🐍 One day, after seeing yet another exchange between you and Baizhu that’s full of hidden longing yet leads nowhere, her patience finally snaps. “Ugh, I can’t take it anymore! Why won’t the two of you confess that you both love each other? It’s so obvious!” she exclaims and slithers out of the room with a huff to cool off her temper. She caught brief snippets of you asking Baizhu if what she said is true, before going out of earshot. She fumes for a little while, grumbling about how foolish you’re both behaving before making her way back. To her delight, she glimpses your rosy cheeks and happy grin, as well as Baizhu’s relieved expression from behind the doorway, and realizes you two finally confessed. At long last, after all this time she thinks and sighs in relief. Changsheng decides to extend her break and come back later, wanting to give you and Baizhu a chance to properly sort out your newfound relationship. She hopes Baizhu is prepared for the long talking-to shell give him about dragging out this situation for so long, but until then, she’ll guard the entrance to the room to make sure no one interrupts you.

[allovesthings]

In my opinion, the butt jokes are incredibly incredibly tired.

So here are several fun facts about Dick that you can use for comedic effects/running jokes instead:

His hatred of Capes. Listen we are talking about Dick wore a yellow cape for 9 to 10 years in universe Grayson. The moment he changed his costume, he straight refused to ever wear a cape again, the only time he had to wear one, it was as Batman and it was very very frustrating for him.

You know that when he watched the Incredibles with Lian and Roy or Damian and Edna Mode came on screen with her hatred of capes, this was his reaction:

Someone else finally understand him. She instantly became his favorite character.

His tendency to put unknown substances/evidence in his mouth and being able to identify it by taste and his knowledge of what Heroin taste like (yep still not over it).

It's both impressive (the fact that he can actually identify something by taste alone is impressive) and gross and even his closest friends don't understand why he is the way that he is, Do we think it's the Bat training or do we think it's just Dick (tm)... I feel like it has to be just Dick, right ? considering everything in Gotham is a toxin of some kind ? How many heart attack do we think he gave both Bruce and the Titans with that ?

Dick Grayson namer of superhero things: Listen, I just learned that Dick named the Arrowcave and now I just kinda love the idea of a running joke that every time a classic superhero in contact with Robin has a goofy name for something superhero related, it probably comes from the 9 year old superhero who thought it sounded cool.

The Titans are never letting that go and Dick doesn't want to talk about it (but he secretly still really like the names, they were cool when he was 9 and pretty practical when you think about it, thank you very much).

Everyone has a crush on him (tm): Honestly it is pretty funny that everyone and theirs entire family have a crush on Nightwing (and also pretty consistent canon since Raven in ntt). The reaction of the batfam is annoyed because that's gross, it's Dick, theirs brother/son, and the Titans are amused (Donna, Vic, Garth and maybe Wally) or maybe sorta part of the people who have had a crush on him (Kory obviously , Roy, Raven).

You do need to be careful with that, but I think if you do the opposite of what DC is usually doing, you'll be fine.

Also you can also includes the disastrous first date with supergirl in that. She also had a crush on him and they date was so horrible that he considered changing superhero identity because it was so embarrassing (truly one of the greatest plot-point on Superman/batman world finest honestly and this series is genuinely my favorite modern/current series)..

His petty side when he doesn't like someone: Listen, Dick has a petty side, ask Helena circa Outsiders (2003), Talia (always), Jason circa the late 2000s (Morrison era) and Azrael (also always). When he doesn't like people but has to work with them, he is going to be a little shit because they have to know he doesn't like them. it's important. and the comedic potential of Nightwing, one of the most competent, known and admired hero of the community being so petty is excellent. 10 out of 10, I need him to work with someone he hates again just for the fun of it.

The last one is just an headcanon and do not have basis in canon as far as I know:

Sometimes, as an adult, Nightwing says Holy shit in front of a classic superhero and that superhero does a double take because they are so used to him saying Holy goly batman (and that include Batman).

[soapybutt17]

The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

~

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

~

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

[boypied]

WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE SCARY MOVIE?

pairings: drew starkey x ghostface!male reader

summary: drew starkey is lying down on his bed, shirtless when he gets a call from an unknown number that turns out to be ghostface. After the conversation ends, the ghostface bursts through his bedroom in an attempt to kill him, but the only one that gets penetrated is ghostface's hole.

requested by: anonymous.

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, top!drew, bottom!reader, knife play, oral sex (r!giving).

Drew runs his hand down across his rippling abs, feeling each dip and curve that his fingers fall into. He was lying in his bed, bored out of his mind having nothing to do until one idea popped into his head; masterbation! His fingers traced along the waistband of his underwear about to slide in until he was interrupted by the sound of his mobile phone ringing. He tried ignoring it till it rang again, and again, and again till his phone was basically at the point it was vibrating off his desk side table. He picks it up angrily, answering in a pissed off blue-balls type of way, "Hello?" Drew says, annoyed, waiting for a reply but only hearing breathing down the phone."Who is this?" He asks slightly more toned down and calm immediately, hearing a high pitch noise and then a deep voice; "What's your favourite scary movie?"

Drew's eyes widen in shock and confusion, 'this isn't really happening.' he wonders to himself before replying to the question with a small tremble of fear on his face "hellraiser" he mumbles into the phone, his hands shaking with fear. Drew stands there frozen in fear as he listens to ghostface's breathing over and over until he replies; "since you love it so much, how about a quiz. get one wrong, and you die. " Hearing a serial killer say that over the other line causes his heart to skip a beat, "fine. Let's get this over with" his reply shaky and scared waiting for the quiz to begin. "In the movie, Hellraiser, the "box" is the catalyst for the horrifying events that take place in this movie. Who is the first character to open it?" Once the question is fully comprehended in Drew's mind, his eyes widen when he can't remember."Uh.." he stutters out.

"Cat, got your tongue?" Ghostface says smugly from the other line. After a couple more seconds of silence from Drew, ghostface ultimately decides that time has run out "times up, pretty boy." Ghostface says with a chuckle hanging up from the call, Drew looks around his room waiting for the attack to happen. Ghostface barges through his bedroom door, holding a knife high in the air, ready to strike into Drew's flesh. Drew lets out a low scream before lunging himself at Ghostface, tackling the knife from his body, Ghostface stuggles and fights back, throwing Drew down on the bed. A small smirk appears on your face under the ghostface mask as you eye up the trembling, sweaty, muscular man that is lying down below you. Something just comes over you, and you drop down to your knees and swiftly begin fiddling with Drew's belt pulling it off in one quick motion.

Drew's cock had already become stiff the moment you barged into his bedroom door and he got to see just how small you were compared to him, and the way he had enough time to check out your ass in the black cloak, he knew at that moment that he wasn't going to die but he was going to get his dick wet. Drew's eyes widen, and a smirk creeps up on his lips as he sees the supposedly maniac killer drop down onto his knees and whip out his cock revealing his bushy but maintained pubes, You lift up your ghostface mask ever so slightly just so your mouth could be revealed. You tease his tip by rubbing it against your lips back and forth before sliding it into your mouth as you begin swirling your tongue around his beautifully pink tip.

Drew's eyes look down to be met with dark shallow holes of the mask, and his eyes travel further down to meet your mouth as he watches his cock disappear into your slick wet mouth. You tongue making sure to coat every inch of his large shaft, making it all wet and easy to slip back and forth down your throat. Your eyes roll back under the mask as he begins to buck his hips up into your throat, causing you to gag making your throat tighten around his member as it fucks your mouth. The wet sounds of your mouth echos throughout the room. What was supposed to be a murder turned into a mouth fucking party, and you just let it happen he had some sort of control over you.

You tried to remain still and silent as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, his tip curving down your throat. Drew grips the back of the Ghostface mask pushing your head right down to the base of his cock, his maintained tidy pubes tickle against your upper lip. Drew removes his hand from the back of your head allowing you to take control of his cock, you could've easily grabbed the knife from the floor... but no. You decide to wrap your hands around the base of his cock and begin to jerk it up and down while your swirl your tongue around his pretty pink tip, gently rubbing your lips against it.

You hover your mouth over his tip, you slowly open your mouth allowing spit to drip out and onto his cock. You watch it run down before it reaches your hand and you use it as lube to jerk his cock again up and down, faster and faster. Drew lets out quiet, with little moans and whimpers, before some sort of dominance takes over his mind and body as he grips the back of your head pulling you off his cock in one swift motion. He stands up and lifts you up onto the bed, he lifts up your Ghostface gown revealing black shorts that hug your ass just right, "fuck yes" he mumbles to himself spanking your left cheek once them spanking the second cheek once.

Drew pulls down your ass-hugging shorts, revealing perfectly round and juicy cheeks. Drew licks his lips until you stand up, putting a knife to his neck. "Eat. my. ass." You say sternly, and in a commanding tone, Drew pulls his hands up. "woah woah." He says laying his body down cautiously on the bed as you slowly climb on top of him, your knees either side of his chest as you slowly sit down on his face feeling his nose and tongue slip right in between your cheeks. Drew begins to lap up your hole, tasting it. He gently pushes his tongue as deep into your boy-pussy as he possibly can, feeling his tongue inside your hole could've made you orgasm right then and there.

You can feel Drew's mouth change into a smirk as his tongue laps around in circles, he begins to tongue fuck you. He pushes his tongue back and forth inside your ass. You lean down and take his dick back in your mouth, moaning around his cock sending the vibrations straight to the base and then his balls. You begin to shake your ass on his face, Drew brings his hands up to your ass giving it a smack, and then gripping it as he tongue fucks you. You pull your ass away from Drew's tongue, hearing him let out a "awh" as his tongue suddenly feels the cold air. You pull up your black Ghostface gown, twerking your ass against his cock hearing it slap back and forth against your bubble butt. Drew lets out moans and groans as he feels your fingers against his tip gently adjusting it to fit right at your hole, you gently push yourself down feeling his cock penetrate into you.

Drew throws his head back, letting out a groan as his mouth turns into an O shape. "fuck fuck fuck" he keeps repeating himself over and over as he feels your hole squeeze around his cock, you let out a chuckle as you place your hands down on his abs feeling them as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock. Drew's body shudders under your touch, feeling your hands graze against his abs, you buck your hips back and forth feeling his cock rub against your sweet spot, milking it with each and every buck of your hips. Drew's eyes darken with hunger as he pushes you off his cock and placing you into the doggy style position.

With one spank of your ass Drew becomes ultimately mesmerised with your ass, the way it jiggles. A smirk grows on his face as he lines his cock up with your hole thrusting deep inside, feeling his cock being warmed by your boy-pussy. You feel his pubes against your ass as he stays inside you without movement, he slowly pulls out before thrusting back in roughly watching your ass jiggle "oh shit" he lets out with a huge laugh "fuck yes!". Your eyes widen feeling the pace he's fucking you at, "ah!" You gasp out bitting your lip to try and remain quiet.

Drew can't take his eyes off of your ass, the way it ripples and jiggles makes Drew fuck you harder "these backshots are going crazy" he says out in a frat boy tone causing you to roll your eyes. He grips onto your hips pushing you on and off his cock watching it disappear and then reappear with just a few thrusts, "you like that, mr ghostface?" Drew says in a cocky tone as he smacks your ass and thrusts deep into you, milking your g-spot. He rubs his hand in circles, around your ass feeling the shape and the jiggle "so perfect," he mumbles under his breath before spanking it once more for a final jiggle.

Drew grips your hips once more fucking you into oblivion causing you to shoot your load from the stimulation, "A-AH!" You groan out throwing the ghostface mask off, sweat dripping off your face becoming a moaning mess against the bedsheets as your hand grip the sheets. "Take it like a good boy!" Drew groans out, thrusting his hips sloppily once more before shooting his load deep inside your boy-pussy. You collapse against the bed feeling Drew's cock slip out of your hole, Drew spanks your ass once more letting out a laugh.

He lays down next to your limp body, your face all sweaty as you breathe heavily. "Don't think we're done yet. This is your ten minute break," he says with a huge smile on his face, causing you to smirk slightly. Your hole makes a wet sound as Drew's cum seaps out and drips down onto your balls, you bite your lip excited for what's to come.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @ghostking4m @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares

[jujutsukaisenwriting]

JJK Characters Realizing They Start Falling for You [Pt.1]

Yuji Itadori:

He always saw you as a bro but suddenly, your jokes and your laugh started being cute instead of the usual funny

He wants you to always see him at his best and he now starts paying double attention to everything he does in front of you

Blushes intensely and avoids direct eye contact, dying of both embarrassment and desire to stare in your eyes forever

Starts being super attentive to small things, like always making sure you are comfortable

Touched your hand “on accident” but immediately admits he kinda likes it

Smiles widely at you letting him keep your hand and brushes your knuckles with his thumb gently

Feels like the luckiest guy in the world (and texts Fushiguro about it almost immediately)

Megumi Fushiguro:

Starts missing you when you are not around

Everything seems…less annoying to him, even the stupid jokes that Yuji makes

Catches himself contemplating whether he should just hit you with a casual “hi” text (and tries to find reasoning for that)

Wants to share every movie and song with you

At one point, just starts randomly carrying your stuff, walking you home and etc

During one of such walks, asks if you might be interested in going on a date?

Smiles confidently and a bit shyly upon hearing you say yes

Gojo Satoru:

If you think he was clingy before, think again

He will just be... everywhere you go, popping out of thin air with his signature grin.

He will never admit it but he simply misses you dearly and wants to be by your side.

Also, trust issues: he is scared that once out of your field of view, he'll be... forgotten.

Saves the last sweet for you and puts his jacket on your shoulder when walking you home in the evening

Accidentally tilts his head to breathe in your scent and looks away, smiling

His whole world just concentrates in you, all of a sudden, but he doesn't mind at all

Nanami Kento:

He didn't plan any romance while working as a sorcerer but lately, he's been paying more attention to your presence. In fact, he starts looking forward to you being near him and it causes his mild annoyance.

He hates to admit the fact that you have become something much more meaningful and important than a colleague.

Starts smiling more around you and overall feels more relaxed. His small smile goes amazingly well with his sharp features.

His love language is acts of service so he starts bringing you sweets and pastry, takes some of your tasks and fills in paperwork for you.

Offers you a ride home one day and on the way, suddenly suggests to have dinner together.

"It's just a meal"

At one point during this dinner, just takes your hand and doesn't let go ever since.

Sukuna:

His jokes and wits become less cruel and more... gentle? If he knows what this word even means

He has always been in search of something his whole life, killing people and curses and gaining more and more power. With you around, he just wants peace.

Starts accidentally seeking touch with you: like touching your hand, playing with your hair, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Also, starts making these jokes that you two are together. Their amount intensifies when other men approach you.

One day, just states that you and him are spending the evening together. Doesn't tell you the details though and feels a tingle of unknown excitement.

"Of course it's a date, silly. I want you to be mine and I won't take no for answer"

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Pretty Little Outfit

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)

Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.

Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.

A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.

Anyway.. my rant is done!

Enjoy :)

"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.

You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.

You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.

You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.

You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.

"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.

You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.

You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.

You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.

"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.

His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.

Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.

You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.

Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.

He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.

The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.

He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.

You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.

"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.

You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.

"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.

The more he stared, the shyier you got.

"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"

You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.

A small smirk crept up on your face.

Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.

You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.

"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.

He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.

You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.

With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.

He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.

You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.

"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.

He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.

"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously

His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.

"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.

"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.

You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.

A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.

He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.

"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.

"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.

"But-"

"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.

He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.

His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.

"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.

You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.

He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.

"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.

"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.

One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.

Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.

You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.

Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.

Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.

"Use me." He breathed out

You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.

"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.

"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.

He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.

A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.

Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.

His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.

"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.

You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.

You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.

He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.

With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.

You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.

"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.

He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.

"Carrmmyy-"

"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.

You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.

"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.

He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.

You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.

"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.

He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.

As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.

The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.

Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.

As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.

"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.

"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.

You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.

"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,

"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.

"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.

"Uh.. Most likely"

He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.

"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.

"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling

A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.

"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.

He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.

You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.

"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.

Masterlist of fics

[sp0o0kylights]

Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 

They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 

His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 

This is his golden ticket. 

The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 

He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.

 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.

No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 

He's fucked. 

He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 

 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 

If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.

Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 

"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 

Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)

"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 

Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 

"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 

Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 

"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.

Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 

Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 

Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 

Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 

The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.

Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 

("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 

Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 

Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 

"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 

Eddie flipped him off.) 

One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.

No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 

Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!

[kykyonthemoon]

Distraction

When you need to study for the upcoming Hunter competency assessment, yet his presence becomes your ultimate distraction.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader|MC

Included parts in order: Caleb - Xavier - Rafayel - Zayne - Sylus

Ky Ky's note: I chose this particular order for the LIs based on the time of day that you would meet him:

Caleb - early morning

Xavier - around midday

Rafayel: late afternoon

Zayne: evening

Sylus: night

── .✦ Tags: R16, MDNI, suggestive themes, biting, teasing, pinning, soft fluff, established relationship, study/work date, pet names (pip-squeak, kitten), no y/n - as always.

── .✦ Word count: 5k6

── .✦ Requested by Yue AuV

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Caleb

You awoke when the sun was still sleeping. Even on break, you had to carry a stack of books home to Grandma to prepare for the critical Hunter competency assessment the following week. The combat skills test was no issue for you. You were apprehensive about the theoretical test. That was the reason you had borrowed more materials from headquarters to study during these spare days.

As you proceeded down the stairs, you noticed heavy breathing in the living room. You were on high alert, clutching the book hard in your palm. With its thickness, a single throw may cause someone to faint on the spot. You walked gently down the final steps and entered the living room.

It was not quite as bright, but you could see everything in the room. On the floor, a person was facing the ground and doing push-ups. His unclothed back, soaked in perspiration, was displayed. You blinked for a second and recognized who it was.

"Caleb?"

He placed one hand on the floor and the other wrapped behind his back. He stopped performing push-ups and returned his attention to you.

"You woke up so early, pip-squeak?"

"When did you get back? I feared the house was being robbed!"

You sighed with relief, walked up to the sofa, and sat down. Caleb continued doing push-ups, saying:

“The train was delayed so I came home late. When I arrived home, you were already asleep, pipsqueak. So I missed the chance to say hi."

“I see. And why are you doing push-ups here?”

Caleb shifted his other hand to the floor. He replied:

“This is my morning practice routine at the Academy. But pip-squeak, you don't know this, right? Because you always sleep until past noon.”

Caleb chuckled, while you aggressively grabbed a nearby pillow and flung it at his back. "You are pestering me again! Every time you return home, it's simply to tease me, right?"

He rose up and turned towards you. His bare chest was exposed to you. When you realized you were staring at it for too long to the point it was not appropriate, you glanced away. 

"What about you?" Caleb asked. “Why are you up so early on a day off?”

You were going to respond but lost what to say as Caleb suddenly leaned in close to you. With one hand, he lifted your book to read the title, while the other moved behind you; his intention left unknown. 

Warmth radiated from Caleb, so much that the air in the room became stifling. Drops of sweat rolled down his face, his neck, his chest, and the muscles in his abdomen. He was right in front of you, only a touch away. His breath caressed your hair and cheeks. Burning.

"Review questions for Hunters?" Caleb commented after rapidly reading the book cover. He gazed at you, who appeared rigid and petrified in place. "Pip-squeak?"

You cleared your throat and coughed. Then pulled the book from his grasp. You explained:

“Well… I have to take the Hunter competency assessment exam next week…”

You hastily covered your face with the book, scared Caleb would see your scarlet cheeks. You also had to rely on the fragrance of papers to help you forget the scent of Caleb's body, which was both familiar and emphasized his masculinity more than ever at the time.

You simply hope the sofa would swallow you up so you would not feel embarrassed anymore. You were used to Caleb, including the fact that he trained his muscles in every possible place in the house. But it did not imply you felt fully at ease when you looked at him in this way. Even after you had confessed your feelings for each other.

Caleb knew what was going on in your mind. Why not, given how it was written on your face? He grinned and patted your head. The hand behind you abruptly took out a towel. He stated: 

"You're leaning back against my towel."

He stood up and backed away with the towel. It turned out that was what he needed, not you. You inhaled heavily. 

"Then let me get another one for you…" 

You murmured. But Caleb brought the cloth to his nose. After closing his eyes, he said:

“Mmh. No need. This towel smells like you.”

Your cheeks burned like fire. You turned fast away.

“Y-You should get back to your push-ups!”

After speaking, you quickly opened the book and pretended to read more. You could hear Caleb laughing in the living room. He said:

“Pip-squeak, you can read books upside down? That is very great of you!"

That's when you realized how ridiculous you were. You swiftly adjusted the book in the correct direction and said nothing else. Caleb returned to his morning workout. Your mind could no longer concentrate. Your gaze was attracted to Caleb's strong physique. He looked to be much more purposeful about exercising in front of you. You exhaled. 

"Caleb, can't you bring your push-ups to the garden?"

"Nope." Caleb reacted quickly, as if he had previously planned his response in case you wanted him out. “I was here first. You came here after me. If someone must go, it should be you."

You did not like to give in, but maybe you needed some cool, fresh air to recharge. You stood up. "Alright. I'll go out. Happy now?"

But as soon as you approached the main door, you felt heat emanating from behind. Caleb approached behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He whispered, somewhat petulantly:

“We haven't seen each other for a month. Are you just going to ignore me like that?”

You did not dare turn around, instead said gently: "I can't ignore you even if I wanted to..."

Caleb put one hand on the door, the other hand turned you around so he could look directly into your eyes. The book you clutched in your palm felt increasingly tight as he got closer. Your bare arm brushed against Caleb's toned abdomen. You held your breath while staring at him. 

“So, pip-squeak, how should you welcome me home?”

Caleb gently stroked your chin with his hand. You blushed. The feet automatically tiptoed. You gave Caleb a kiss on the cheek. But it appeared that this gift had left him disappointed.

“Is that all? Do I need to go on duty for another month so you will miss me even more?”

You knew Caleb was teasing you, yet you did miss him a lot. It was just that you were still not really used to intimate contact with him. You looked up at Caleb, his eyes still fixed on you, waiting. Having failed to disappoint him, you stepped on tiptoe again, this time with your lips on his.

Caleb grinned softly. He placed his arms around you and pulled you up against his damp body.

"This is... how a welcome home should be like..." Caleb whispered to you between lengthy kisses.

Xavier

“Have you seen my book anywhere? I think I dropped it.”

Xavier's words echoed out over the coffee table. You looked up from the stack of books and stated:

“Why don't you check on the floor?”

The two of you were not on the sofa, instead, the floor. Xavier leaned down and discovered the half-read book lying under the table. "Here it is!"

You sighed. “Did you fall asleep again?”

"What?" Xavier's perplexed expression resurfaced in your vision. He massaged his eyes. “I didn't sleep… I just closed my eyes to rest a bit and tried to remember the information I just read.”

“Hmm.” You glanced at him. Obviously, you caught him falling asleep when he pledged to study with you.

Long story short, all Hunters must go through a competence assessment. The test included both combat skills and a theoretical test. Hence you had invited Xavier to your flat for a study date. Even a top Hunter like him would have to take the assessment exam.

After barely five minutes of sitting, Xavier asked you: "Is it time to break yet?", and then he felt frustrated when he received a shake of the head from you. 

After that, Xavier was continuously distracted by many things around him, like the sound of a kettle boiling in the kitchen, birds chirping outside the open window, and even neighbors arguing down the street. You had to close the windows so you could concentrate on your studies. Xavier gave you one of his headphones and the review session proceeded well for the next half hour. Then he fell asleep and dropped the book on the floor again.

"Xavier, you're cheating!" You spoke as one hand reached out to pinch his face.

"It hurts."

Xavier spoke with a puppy expression. Even if he were like that, you would continue to review. You cleared your throat and coughed.

"Let us proceed. We have to complete the evaluation tomorrow."

Xavier put up his reading glasses and nodded. You heard him mumble a few questions from the book, followed by a long pause. You glanced up to him.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" You asked. 

You placed the book you were reading on the table. You simply could not focus anymore. Your mind was racing, words from the document leaping all over the place. Your body screamed for rest.

You crawled to Xavier's side and rested your head on him. He was silent about everything, but softly rested his chin on your hair. The two of you stayed there for a long time, enjoying the tranquility of the lovely morning. Unfortunately, the test prevented you from going out with Xavier. A walk then would be great. You were ready to invite Xavier for a stroll later, but before you could say anything, you noticed his faint, regular snoring next to you.

"Eh, Xavier?" You were astonished. "Are you sleeping now, really?"

The bit of his head lying on you grew heavy. Even when you sat up straight and grasped his head in both hands, Xavier did not bother to wake up. You thought it both amusing and miserable. You allowed him to recline against the sofa. With a very gentle gesture, you helped him take off his reading glasses and put them away. You set one arm on the sofa, laying your head on it while watching him sleep. How beautiful Xavier was; like a prince, a knight who was always there to protect you. And in times when he was being vulnerable like this, you would defend him.  

You could not resist but reach out and poke his cheek. Xavier did not immediately wake up, although he moved slightly. You tried to suppress your laughter. Your hand found a pen from the floor nearby and began a grand scheme.

You got up very carefully and climbed onto Xavier's lap. With the pen in hand, you sketched him a fantastic mustache. The tickling of the pen tip caused his face to quiver slightly, but he remained asleep. You gleefully painted the tip of his nose and slid a few strokes across both cheeks. After that, you removed your bunny ear accessories and placed them on Xavier's hair.

You reflected on your work once it was completed. He looked like a giant rabbit that had just grown a mustache. You giggled, planning to flee and get your phone to photograph the situation. But Xavier instantly held you back.

"Ouch!" 

The power from him drew your wrist back, forcing you to collapse into his arms. Your rabbit awoke and appeared to comprehend what you had just done. Xavier looked down at your little body lying in his arms and said sleepily:

“What did you just draw on my face?”

“Eh… I didn't do anything…” You chose to deny the crime. You immediately flung the pen away, but Xavier caught you in the act.

Xavier adjusted his posture to sit up straighter, gently pulling you closer to his body. You were hugged tightly from behind by Xavier. His hand caressed your neck, causing you to tilt your head back and stare at him. 

And you could not help but laugh at his funny face right there. Xavier grimaced, obviously dissatisfied.

"A Hunter sneak-attacked another Hunter. You understand that's against the rules, right?"

"Yeah…" Still, you thought it amusing. "You won't go gossiping about this to our supervisors, will you?"

Xavier said, "If you want me not to report back, you have to compensate me."

"How do you want me to compensate?"

Xavier's eyes were keen, unlike his drowsy demeanor only a few seconds before. He smiled gently at you, but why did you sense danger as if you had stumbled into a trap?

"You will know very soon."

Xavier's fingers began to move across your face. He drew an invisible mustache for you, followed by a nose and a bunny's whiskers. You felt ticklish and twitched in his arms, but Xavier gripped you even tighter. A while later, you thought he had finished drawing then realized, he was only getting started

“It would be so easy to let you go like that.” Xavier muttered into your ear before softly biting it, sending a powerful electric shock through your entire body, and a reminder to never tease him while he was sleeping again.

It was too late to backtrack; you clenched your teeth. Xavier's warm breath invaded from the nape of your neck to your ear. The kisses he placed on your hair, ear, and neck made you feel heated. Xavier chewed the shoulder of your shirt and removed it, showing your slightly shaking bare shoulder. He softly bit it, followed by a deep kiss. You inhaled extensively, turning around to feel his lips.

Your intention to go for a walk after the study session that day might need to be postponed.

Rafayel

You were seated across from Rafayel in his sunlit studio. Rafayel was painting and singing gently as you buried your head in the book, clutching a highlighter pen and marking practically every word on the page.

"So loud, Rafayel. You are too loud." You spoke with some irritation. Of course, you did not mean it, but the competency evaluation for all Hunters would be held in a few days. To proceed to higher ranking, you must score well in all tests, including the theoretical test.

"And you're so ferocious, Miss Bodyguard. You scared away my inspiration!"

You rose up and moved around the desk full of books and papers to stand next to Rafayel, gazing at the landscape that he was painting. An afternoon at sea that looked just like the sight outside the studio at the time, but in Rafayel's hands, it felt like an enchanting tale.

“It looks like you're still doing well even though your inspiration ran away.” You replied, folding arms across your chest. “As for me... If only I could pass the test as easily and gracefully as you when you paint.”

Rafayel did not glance at you; his brush was still moving across the canvas. He said, "Painting for me is not as easy as you think. It requires all of my attention, passion, and devotion. You, too, will perform well on the test. You've been getting ready for it over the past few weeks."

"But I still feel worried."

Rafayel stopped painting. He turned and looked at you. "Then it's great if you rest and relax a little. When your mind is at peace, everything you do will be more productive."

You groaned as you looked at the mound of books on your desk. You said:

“Let me find something to do then.”

You turned around, and by some force, your hand accidentally brushed his shoulder. In his artwork, an undesired stripe of color appeared.

“Oops! I'm sorry!" You responded instantly. Rafayel gazed up at you with a sulky expression.

“That's it. I'll have to tell Thomas that you've just chased away my inspiration and you're spraying colors all over my painting."

“I didn't mean to ruin it.” You explained. Rafayel said again:

“It's not really ruined. I can still fix it. But, why should I do that? You're the one causing trouble here. So you have to compensate me.”

"Huh?" Your eyes were wide and innocent as you gazed at Rafayel. He took your palm and placed his paintbrush inside.

“Come on, Miss Bodyguard, how should I fix this painting?”

You were not an artist. When you were a kid, you used crayons to draw on papers, but this was Rafayel's creation. Your fingers shook as you gazed at him. He gave you the palette while tilting his head towards the easel. 

“Just consider this a way for you to relax for the time being.”

Hearing him say that made you even more stressed. You scowled and stared at him. That irritating smile of triumph made you resentful. Obviously, he was able to fix the painting himself, but he continued placing you in a difficult situation.

"So? If you can't fix it, you must give me a hundred compliments this week."

You frowned. His pompous demeanor was too much to tolerate. You grabbed the brush and began working. But instead of painting on the canvas, you traced a blue line over Rafayel's face.

"HUH?!" Rafayel stared at you, puzzled, and you chuckled. You lifted your hand to paint another line on the opposite side of his face, but he seized your wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Relaxing." You responded with a mysterious smile. "You just suggested that I should relax after studying hard, didn't you?"

"I told you to paint on the canvas, not to paint on me!"

Rafayel pouted, encouraging you to torture him even more. You quickly replied: "For me, Rafayel is the most wonderful work of art."

Hearing that, his eyes brightened up and he gazed at you with adoration. However, you must use the opportunity to swipe the brush over his other cheek while he let his guard down. You laughed loudly, and Rafayel became so irritated that you began to picture a fish with smoke coming out of his ears.

Your victory did not last very long. You felt something chilly on your face, and it smelled like paint. Rafayel lifted his index finger, which was coated in pink and purple. He was chuckling:

“You are also a work of art that I want to paint.”

Following that, the war between you and Rafayel began. You even let go of the brush and used five fingers to wipe as much paint as possible across his body. Rafayel applied additional paint from the tubes in the corner. Both his hands were stained. Seeing this, you attempted to flee, but Rafayel immediately grabbed your waist. He seized you from behind, and his pink, purple, and crimson handprints were all over your garments, covering your chest and neck. You resisted until turning the tables and snatching Rafayel's arm, holding it behind his back and forcing him to the floor.

"Ouch! Ouuuuuuch! You're breaking the arm of an esteemed painter!”

You snorted bitterly, then took advantage of the situation by pinning Rafayel to the floor and letting him struggle. You sat on top of him and began your revenge.

Starting with his dream-like, charming face. Fingers in varying shades of blue and white created traces on Rafayel's cheekbones, nose, and chin before sliding down his neck. He shuddered slightly in defeat.

"You… What do you want to do with me?"

You laughed in an incredibly hazardous manner. "What do you want me to do to you?"

Rafayel's face went crimson, and with the colors you had painted on him, he resembled a sunset over the sea. You slid your fingers inside his white shirt, brushed his powerful chest, and watched Rafayel slightly arch his spine.

"You…" Rafayel inhaled heavily. His heart rate surged. You could feel the heart throbbing beneath your hand. You leaned down very close, looked into his eyes, and whispered:

"Turned out, Rafayel also has the effect of reducing stress and giving me inspiration!"

Rafayel's lips curved up to say something, but you gently bit him. Rafayel fought but was unable to do anything since you gripped both of his hands and pinned him to the floor. You caught his heavy breathing between kisses, both unwilling and adoring to be pestered by you in this manner.

Zayne 

Zayne picked up a glass of cold water and pressed it against your cheek, startling you awake. He noticed you nodding on the sofa, with a book face down on your stomach in your lap. He remarked:

“How can you fall asleep after just five minutes of reading like that?”

“It's the book's fault, not mine.” You made an excuse and reached out to grab the glass of water Zayne had given you. Soon, you would have to take the competency assessment for all Hunters. Since studying alone was dull, you asked Zayne over for a work date. However, the only hard-working person here was him alone.

He returned to the desk and typed on his laptop again. A little cool water only woke you up for a while. You leaned your head on the sofa, eyes half-closed, gazing at him in front. When Zayne focused on his task, he looked breathtakingly beautiful. Everything about him seemed to draw you in. These eyes, these eyelashes, the bridge of his nose, and the corner of his mouth... All of a sudden, he turned around and caught you staring at him. He asked:

“Does my face inspire you that much?”

You did not feel shy at all but nodded heartily. The corner of his lips curved slightly. He replied:

“Then after you're done staring at me, go review your papers.”

"Too far." You extended your hand towards him, as if you wanted to hold him. "My inspiration is sitting so far away, no wonder why I am so sleepy."

Zayne gazed at you. Obviously, he laughed. Then he rose up, held his laptop, and approached you. The seat next to you sank when he dropped down next to you.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. It's good now." You joyfully responded and resumed reading the book. The Hunters Association handed you a vast stack of books to study, each of which was thick. You were certain that you would perform well on the combat skills evaluation, but the theoretical questions caused you a headache.

After a time, you started to become distracted. You noticed Zayne sitting by your side with a laptop on his lap and wondered how he could focus so intently. He seemed to be able to work at any time and in any location. You looked over to his screen. The stuff displayed there was much more perplexing than your books. You grumbled and struggled on the sofa for a bit, but failed to discover a position that helped you focus. Zayne inquired: 

"What's going on? Are you uncomfortable sitting?"

You nodded your head.

"Maybe because you've sat in the wrong position for too long," he told you.

Before Zayne could give you any suggestions on how to improve your posture, you raised your legs on the sofa and positioned them in his lap, on top of the laptop keyboard. He rolled his eyes at you, then gently raised your knees up with one hand while swiftly taking out the laptop and setting it aside.

"Lean back against the cushion." Zayne placed a cushion between your back and the armrest of the sofa. After fixing everything, he inquired: 

"Are you more comfortable now?"

You chuckled and nodded. Zayne gave you a face that conveyed both surrender and excessive tenderness. You buried your head in the book again, but the words faded away since all you cared about was Zayne's long fingers brushing your exposed uncovered legs. He was softly rubbing them, which made you feel a little ticklish.

Zayne turned to look at you; your face had become scarlet behind the book.

"Read your book." He said. Despite your best efforts, you could no longer recall anything. Your mind was whirling as he touched your legs. His hands are strong but soft, making you feel at ease and eager to be caressed by him. 

So when you saw Zayne's hands leave you as he reached for his laptop again, you stretched your leg and pushed it as far as you could, all the way to the opposite end of the sofa. He grasped your ankle and gently reminded you:

“Be a good girl.”

Then he released you and took the device. He placed it on your legs like they were a desk. Of course, you refused to give up so fast. You continued shifting your legs, causing the laptop to tremble so much that Zayne was unable to continue working. He glared at you, and you retreated behind the book, pretending not to see his agony at all.

"Did you really call me here to work together?" Zayne's voice soared out, as if he had become upset. Before you could respond, he raised the laptop, placed his other hand around your waist, and drove you towards him.

"Erm… Doctor Zayne?"

Being pulled so suddenly, you leaned completely against Zayne. Your forehead lightly hit his chin and your nose touched his Adam's apple. It seemed he was also a bit startled, his throat became dry. For a moment, he looked down at you, and you looked up slightly to observe his reaction.

Zayne said nothing, his eyes fixed on your parted lips. Your heart rate began to rise at such a close distance. Your ragged breathing on Zayne's neck made him gradually forget his original purpose in coming to this place. The laptop was once again put down, and his lips glided lightly across the bridge of your nose.

“Hmm… Doctor Zayne�� Are you not working anymore?” You asked softly, when his lips were only about the size of a mint candy from yours. He replied:

“Someone keeps distracting me. In order to work more effectively, I need to address this matter first."

You grinned. You were on Zayne's lap, but when he leaned slightly towards your lips, wanting to touch them, you turned away. His eyes were filled with disappointment when he gazed at you, wondering what you wanted from him or why you placed a little sweetness in his heart just to leave him hanging like that.

You looked up. Your hand stroked Zayne's face before moving down to his lips. Your voice was quiet:

“Doctor Zayne, it's not just your face or your lips that inspires me…”

Your fingertips carefully went down to Zayne's neck. He remained immobile, waiting to see what you would do next. You pressed closer to his body and muttered:

“To me, everything about you serves as an inspiration…”

Zayne's throat was dry. Perhaps when he accepted your offer to come here, he anticipated a work date with you that looked nothing like the way you grinned so wickedly as you pushed him closer to the sofa, slowly turning around and wrapping your legs around his sides. Sitting on his lap, you tilted your head, smiled, then gave him a kiss on his Adam's apple.

Sylus

Sylus appeared at your apartment after the doorbell rang so loudly that if you arrived even a second late, the door would definitely not be intact.

The problem was that he assumed something was wrong with you after learning from Luke and Kieran that you had not left the house in almost three days.

Sylus grabbed and spun you around to ensure you were not wounded. You had to explain that you were alright, but exhausted from several days of studying for the approaching Hunters' competence evaluation.

Sylus shook his head at the mound of books in your living room:

"They teach you these useless things in Linkon?”

“I've got a combat skills test, and a theoretical test. I must pass both.”

Sylus said nothing else. He allowed you to continue immersing yourself in books as he sat comfortably on the sofa, as if this place was his very home. 

A short while later, you heard a rattling sound coming from Sylus. Looking over, you were startled to see his gun pointing in your direction.

"What on Earth—"

Sylus lifted his head to look at you, grinned, and continued cleaning his weapon. You let out a loud sigh. Before he came to shatter this quiet atmosphere, you had memorized many questions for the test. But his presence made it hard for you to focus since your gaze was always drawn to him.

You observed him for a long time. There were a few raindrops in his hair and leather jacket. His crimson eyes focused on the gun in his grasp, his head leaned slightly, and the light illuminated on one side of his gorgeous face. Every now and again, you would look up, and when he noticed your gaze fixed on him, he would smile as if he had you in his palm. And it was true.

When Sylus was around, you had trouble focusing on anything else. You groaned and asked him:

“Why are you still here? You know I'm safe and sound. Go home now, Sylus.”

Sylus replied with a to-the-point question: "Do you really want me to leave?"

Outside, it was pouring rain. It was past eleven o'clock at night. You decided to wait for the rain to cease before telling him to go home again. Otherwise, you would find yourself unable to pass the competency evaluation! How dare he be so desirable and captivating?

You had no option but to sit with your back to Sylus. About half an hour later, when the rain was over and you had finished most of the book that needed to be read, you turned to seek for him. Sylus slumped back on the sofa, his eyes closed tight. It appeared as he was sleeping. You approached and called his name.

Sylus did not respond, so you poked his cheek with your hand. He did not open his eyes, but gripped your hand fast. 

“Let me sleep. I'll play with you later, kitten."

Even after he stated that, he refused to let go of you. He used force to pull you down next to him on the sofa. When you sat down, he leaned closer, putting his head on your thigh.

"Sylus?"

"Shhh. Just a moment..."

You decided to give up. Looking at him sleeping so peacefully, like a vicious cat who had retracted all his claws and snuggled up on your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair, tracing each line from his forehead to his chin. You thought to yourself how tempting it would be to steal a kiss from him. But the moment you dropped your head, he awoke.

His fiery eyes secured on you. You abruptly sat up straight, as if nothing had occurred. Sylus cracked a grin

"I caught you trying to sneak up on me, kitten."

"What are you saying?" You disputed it and then used your hand to shove him down. "The rain ceased. It's time you go home."

But Sylus grasped your arm. His moves were so quick that you were left startled. He rose up and spun around, using enough power to pin you to the sofa in a sitting posture, your hands securely clutched on both sides of your head.

Sylus leaned down to get closer to you. One of his knees was pressed tight to your thigh on the chair, while the other leg kept his body poised in front of you. This position made it difficult for you to flee, even if you wanted to. Sylus glanced at you like a cat toying his mouse. He clarified:

“I didn't come all the way here to Linkon just for you to order me around and send me back like that.”

Your chest started to throb. You said, "So, why did you come here?"

"To help you pass your test, of course."

"Huh?" You attempted to get away from Sylus, but he grabbed you so hard that your wrists began to turn red.

"Now that you've thoroughly read the book, kindly answer me. If a Hunter found herself in a situation like this, what would she do?”

You returned your attention to Sylus after looking at the pile of monotonous books on the table. He appeared to offer you a challenge:

Sylus undoubtedly had superior fighting abilities than you. He knew which way you would go, so he grabbed you around the waist with a simple arm extension. He picked you up with one arm and shoved you hard into the sofa. As you struggled to get away, he grabbed your ankle.

"Ouch! It hurts!" You yelled, but all you received in return was Sylus' smug laugh.

"Too slow, kitten."

He flipped you over so you could see how tightly he gripped your leg against his dominant chest. Sylus chuckled in a vicious manner and asked:

“Are these little tricks all that the Hunters Association teaches you?”

“You… Sylus… I… Argh!”

You were enraged and tossed several cushions at him at once. When one of them smacked his face, he did not even dodge; instead, he closed his eyes. After that, he gazed down at you, your hair tangled and your arms and legs thrashing in an attempt to escape. His fingers go along your exposed leg. He wrapped both of your thighs around his waist, and his enormous figure crushed down on you on the sofa. His hot breath painted your face and neck, causing you to lose track of everything else. He softly bit your ear and murmured:

“Be still. I could teach you a few combat tricks. But, I'm curious how much you would pay for it."

Header photos by x and x

[pillow-anime-talk]

goddess of peace.

request: can you do any record of ragnarok’s gods character with a female reader who is like zhongli from genshin impact?

# tags: headcanon; strangers to lovers or current relationships or marriage relationships; light romance; a bit of fluff; goddess!reader; calm!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. hades, poseidon, heracles, loki & beelzebub {ror}

author’s note: yaaaay first ror request!! gimme more

— HADES

↘ You impressed many gods with your ever calm expression and voice that soothed everyone to sleep or healed mental wounds. No matter what you said, your gentle, almost shy smile and willingness to help made everyone on Olympus and during important meetings agree with you, although you often asked them to oppose your ideas in case of objections.

↘ Many deities gossip about your marriage to Hades – Lord of Death and King of the Underworld. Hades was the man feared by the entire Greek Pantheon, a class of his own and a god who had lived in solitude for thousands of years, his only friend for eternity being himself. So how did a beautiful, gentle, nature-loving woman like you fall in love with him and decide to live in Helheim? You were, after all, the Goddess of Calligraphy, The protector of Artists.

↘ The answer is very simple though. Hades is a secretive romantic and though the flowers you got from him were always withered, they were always the most beautiful gift you could receive because you knew his feelings were sincere. So, although you often missed the view of the sky, the warmth of the sun, running deer or the view of lakes and fields stretching from Mount Olympus, life with Hades was really wonderful, and he was a gallant gentleman bravely leading you by the hand.

↘ Your aura full of peace and nostalgia for the world of the living gave the underworld colors and warmth.

— POSEIDON

↘ Your close friend was Zeus, who one day organized a grand banquet for an unknown occasion. As his good friend, the Goddess of Science and Philosophy, you sat right next to him at a huge, round table on which meat dishes, all fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as sweets and wine barrels were arranged. Right next to your left sat the King of the Seas and at the same time the older brother of your best friend. Poseidon never got to know you, though of course he heard your name more than once when he spoke to his brothers and the other gods of Olympus.

↘ You were the definition of calm and prudence; your sparkling eyes studied each guest attentively, and you listened to each story with the greatest concentration. From time to time you answered questions from other, more important gods, thanking for each compliment, remark or approval. The fair-haired man didn’t say much that evening, but for the first time in ages he stayed at the table until the end of the meeting and sometimes, without a word, offering you another glass of alcohol or fresh fruit (in his mind, throughout the party, he wrote the dishes you tasted and the sweets that made the biggest smile on your face).

↘ Poseidon was delighted with you, though he couldn’t admit it. Of course he would never do that, especially among other Greek deities. This would create gossip and unnecessary attention to him. He also didn’t want you to feel embarrassed by unpleasant questions or comments.

↘ At the end of a meeting that seemed to last for years, everyone slowly returning to their realms. You also thanked for the meal and amazing company, saying ‘Goodbye’ to Zeus and the others. Poseidon followed you wordlessly. Before the handsome god submerged into the cold water, in gratitude for the nice time he gave you one of the seashells he once found at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Its shell was white and sparkled like a diamond. Before you could thank him though, Poseidon disappeared into the sea foam and you blushed hardly.

↘ In the world of the gods, giving another person a gift related to the profession of a patron was equivalent to a confession of feelings or a proposal.

— HERACLES

↘ Heracles from the first time he saw you (more than two thousand years ago) knew that you would be his and would do anything to protect your beautiful soul and precious smile. You were the Queen of the Forest and Meadows, so your nature was calm, patient and also timid. Heracles, on the other hand, as a hero and a man for whom respect for a woman was in the first place, of course, wanted to show you how much you mean to him and how precious flower you are.

↘ His behavior and feelings were very visible. He was like a teenager in love with a huge smile and a fast heartbeat whenever he received words of gratitude from you or small compliments about his strength, agility and acts of heroism towards animals or people.

↘ He is literally delighted and acts like a five-year-old after receiving a candy when you agree to go on a date with him. He probably stays awake for the next week, not eating, and begs Aphrodite and Apollo on his knees to help him with his hair and clothes. He is more than stressed when he thinking about your meeting, but he does not forget for a microsecond a bouquet of your favorite flowers, which he gives you with a shy smile, telling you how beautiful you look that day.

↘ When you thank him for them and take his strong, slightly rough from fighting hand, he almost faints, but don’t worry. It will definitely be the best date in the history of the Greek Pantheon.

— LOKI

↘ You are his opposite. No one among the Norse gods (and in general all deities that exist) understands your relationship and sincerely sympathizes with you, because Loki is the biggest rascal and jester. However, you don’t think you need sympathy or sad looks; on the contrary – next to him you feel really safe and good. This boy is very considerate of you and really appreciates that someone like the Norse Goddess of Poetry took an interest in him and gave him her fragile heart.

↘ Of course, he’s still a bit mischievous towards you, but his pranks never make you angry or sad. It’s more like jokes about Loki turning into an animal or running away from your kisses, flying high so you can’t reach him.

↘ God of Mischief is like a faithful dog when it comes to you. He always stays close to you, always takes a seat to your left, always looks at your interlocutor with bored eyes, and always tries to get your attention with loud laughter, singing and questions. He is a little attention hoe.

↘ Loki, alone with you, is a little poetry expert who brags to you how many books he has read and what new achievements he has made. He is concerned when he sees your sadness – then he tries hard to cheer you up with silly faces and at the same time puts on a mask of seriousness when he sees that you need a longer and serious conversation. Of course, then he will fly away again and pretend to be a mosquito, but as soon as he comes back to you, he will give you a million kisses. After all, you have exactly eternity for your love.

— BEELZEBUB

↘ He was horrified when he realized you were more than just a friend to him. He decided to distance himself, but you quickly knocked that idea out of his head, proposing a conversation. Of course, your calm voice and small smile immediately soothed the God of Darkness and made him believe that he would be happy with you.

↘ Being the Goddess of Light and Life was completely at odds with who you married after many years. You were like a beautiful tulip and he was a dried chrysanthemum. Extremely different, but perfectly complementary in terms of your characters and feelings. Your calm nature always soothed Beelzebub’s racing thoughts and his sad eyes, which still seemed not to understand why you gave your precious heart to the one possessed by Satan.

↘ However, you were happy with him and although his hand was always cold and his face was pale and often without a smile, you thought that he was the man you wanted to live with until the end of the world and one more day.

↘ Beelzebub had to admit it – he was damn in love with you and your beautiful aura was what honestly illuminated his previously bleak life. From the moment he met you, the man wanted to live and develop again. With such a queen by his side, nothing could destroy him.

[urfavlarry]

Hii! Could you do SBG characters x reader who lost their eyes/sight in a phantom dimension? I'm in the mood for some angst and that one would be quite intresting!

SBG group x gn!reader

warnings: slight gore, angst, gagging, thr0wing up

genre: angst, fluff at the end

A/N: i love this sm!! but im not sure if you want the group as a whole.. or separate ?? :,) I did the group as a whole hope that’s okay <33

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🚍🪦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You weren’t expecting any of this to happen. One minute you were all fighting off a phantom that was about to get inside the house while the others ran off to search for the keys for the jeep, and then suddenly you were grabbed by your face by some phantom. You hit it in its ribcage making it thrash around, which got you here, to this moment right now.

Your eyes, or where they used to be stung, you saw nothing but darkness and heard movement around you. You sob, screaming in pain which alerted the others inside the house. Everyone quickly got out of the house with the keys in hand and froze when they saw the gruesome scene in front of them. Some gagged, some threw up but they quickly got you inside the jeep and sped to the graveyard. “Shit, Shit..” You say and hold onto someones arm. The person holds you close and another person holds your hand. “Shh.. everything will be okay..” You recognize the voice as Taylor and just sob, praying for this torturous night to be over. There was blood everywhere on your face, you were wondering how you didn’t pass out from the pain and blood loss already. There was a lot of yelling and commotion in the car which you couldn’t quite understand because of the buzzing noise in your head. You feel your head getting heavy, your consciousness slipping from your fingers. Everyone yells your name, trying to shake you awake but you feel your body fall onto someone, not remembering what happened after that.

You jolt awake, your whole body shaking and covered in sweat. Your head was pounding and it felt like you were getting shot in the head over and over again. The area around your eyes felt numb and tingly, which you chose to ignore and take a shower. You sob slightly, hoping that everything that happened was just a bad dream. You instantly get whipped out of your thought when you hear your bell ringing like crazy. You sigh, getting changed into some comfortable clothes and walk downstairs to open the door. You were alone, your parents going on buiseness trips for as long as you could remember. But that’s a story for another day.

You immediately get jumped by Taylor who pulled you into a bone crushing hug, the others joining in. You get hoisted up by Ashlyn as the others lay down on the large bean bag you have in your living room. Ben lays down first, you next to him with Aiden on top of you and buried his face into your chest. Ash and Taylor held onto your side, and Logan who got into the pit of cuddles last, closed rhe blinds and turned on his playlist on a low volume and joined in on the fun. He layed down on ben, your head resting on Logans stomach. You layed there looking at the ceiling, thinking about last nights events. “I should’ve been more careful.” You think to yourself and sigh, earning the attention of Aiden and Ash. “Hey sunshine, what’s wrong?” Aiden asks, oh and yes, he has been calling you sunshine ever since you were paired up to do the project for some unknown reason. “Yeah, is it about last night?” Ash asks and rubs circles around your waist with her thumb.

You shrug slightly not even knowing how you feel. Yes you were scared and angry about what happened, but you can’t imagine how they must’ve felt after seeing you in such a state. “I just.. I don’t know.. I feel like I could’ve done better. Now I’m going to be a burden every time you will want to make a plan.” Ash looks at you sympathetically, the whole conversation catching the interest of Tyler and Logan. Logan perks up; “Hey, you’re not a burden. The only thing you are is brave. I don’t think any of us would be as strong as you in your situation.” He says and Tyler nods along; “Yeah, we all admire you for your bravery, and don’t worry we will help you pull through, don’t you ever think we will leave you behind.” He says and you smile, getting a warm feeling in your stomach. Your eyes slowly flutter closed. With a yawn you say one last thing before falling asleep; “Thanks guys, I’m grateful to have you all.”

[groovyangelkisses]

this song is soooo diner waitress!reader meeting benny for the first time <3

you've just got done scrubbing down a table, finally clearing the towering mess of leftover food and slop on haphazardly placed plates. using your hip, you jut into the swinging door, swiftly moving into the kitchen and placing the dishes down on the nearest table, conversing quickly with your coworker about the annoying teenagers at table 6. it's all very sudden, benny's appearance, and there's not even any time for "when you know, you know," he's just there and everything is different, forever.

the swinging door comes flying open, and in comes the owner of the diner, holding benny by the collar of his vest and yelling about "another fuckin' vandal dining and dashing!" benny, ever the show-off nods his head to the staff, mouthing "hello" teasingly to those watching, until he gets to you. he straightens up a bit, pushing his broad shoulders back and settling into a grin. immediately sucked into the allure that is benny cross, you maintain eye contact with the biker. after your boss takes his brief breather, he lightly shoves benny forward, and you can see the bikers face contort with repressed anger— "any minute now and he'll swing," you think to yourself.

your boss yells as benny straightens himself out, "you better get to dish washin' kid, your fuckin' check is worth $30 alone on milkshakes" "uhh no i don't do that sir" "what do you mean 'you don't do that?'" "well... i don't look mighty good in a hair net, don't you agree sweets?" and that's when you realize he's speaking to you.

stunned, and awe-struck by the devastating beauty, temper and magnetism of the unknown biker, you stare at him, and he lightly tilts his head, waiting for you to speak. once again, your boss shoves benny towards the sinks, grumbling to you about keepin an eye on him, as benny declares "don't i at least get a phone call?" all faux innocence. exasperated, your boss throws his hands up and leaves, leaving you & benny tucked away in the corner of the kitchen as the staff bustles around you.

facing the sinks, benny places his hands on his hips, and turning to you he asks "jesus christ... they make you do this shit nightly?" finally finding your voice, you stutter out softly, "y-yeah, sometimes twice a night if.. if we're short staffed-" "you got a boyfriend?" shocked at his sudden line of questioning, you stare straight down, looking at your clean white sneakers as you blush "hm? what?" "you got a boyfriend?" he replies; almost instinctually, as he shifts his body towards yours, his leather boots sticking to the linoleum floor beneath you.

"no. no, no boyfriend.. uh.." "benny.. 'm benny" and with his silent insistence, you tell him your own name. he rolls it off his tongue, pulling it between his teeth and resting it on his soft, bubblegum lips with a content sigh. "well... i ain't gonna stay here too long, you got a backdoor in this joint?" "yeah! yeah! over here is.. the back door." shaking your head at your embarassed rambling, you walk ahead of him, not sensing the wide smile etched on benny's face as he watches you whirl through the kitchen, your pretty ponytail flowing behind you as he leans forward and lightly tugs to see you blush more.

"there's a phone here too benny, if- if you want your phone call!" you smile out, all kindhearted and loving towards the consuming man you've just met. moving towards the phone, and brushing your arm in the process he coos "thank you doll, don't go far now, kay?" and you don't— even now, at the beginning of it all, you'll listen to him, feeling protected and safe in his deep voice and commands. twisting to face the stoves, you try not to listen to benny's conversation with the strange "johnny" character with a sweet, slow voice on the other line.

in your thinking of benny and his long legs & the sound of his keys jingling with his lighter in his pocket as he walks, you manage to hear one little bit of their conversation, "johnny, this little birdie, 'm gonna marry her. courthouse, fuckin' church, i don't care, whatever she wants i'll do." and for a moment you're saddened, turning to benny and staring at him with wide eyes, his legs crossed at the ankle as he speaks. his eyes meet yours, baby blue and soulful, warm & hardened, posessive and free, all at once. of course he'd have a girl, he's a walking dream; you'd seen how the other waitresses eyed him up.

in the midst of your minor devastation, feeling the crushing weight of the loss of a love you'll never know, he smiles at you, pearly teeth shining as he twirls his pinky ring, and asks you (still on the phone with johnny, may i add), "what'dya think sweetheart, you more of a courthouse or church kinda girl?"

[revasserium]

18 and 28 from promp list 1 with zayne? :>

send me a number + a character and i'll write u a drabble

18. afterglow + 28. cliche of the morning after (take two)

zayne; 1,209 words; fluff, fem!reader, zayn!branded banter, very very vague allusions to top!zayne, whipped!zayne

summary: the morning after, with zayne.

a/n: zayne is not so secretly a simp. no further comments at this time.

It is often in the moments after, in the liquid exhale of skin on skin, the dissipating heat of body against body — this is when Zayne thinks he sees you most clearly. Faintly, he wonders if he could count every single point of contact between you — your ankles hooked over his (one), your calves pressed together (two), the delicate softness of your hip beneath his palm (three), the weight of your cheek pillowed on his arm (four).

He watches the moth-wing flutter of your lashes as your eyes flicker open to meet his, the petal-sweet spread of your smile as you crinkle your nose and lean in to bury your face in his chest with a groan.

“You’re staring again.”

Your voice is muffled; he feels it vibrating through his skin.

Zayne drops a kiss into your hair as he loops his arms around you.

“Am I not allowed?”

You shake your head, pressing ever closer even as he chuckles, letting his fingers trail through your silken hair, amusing himself with tugging on the ends.

“Feels weird.”

“Does it?” he asks.

You pull back to peer up at him, and he feels himself falling into the galaxies caught behind your eyes, and yes, isn’t it a cliche to fall for a girl like this? To compare her eyes to the light of distant stars, to find her shadow and shade in every flower petal, her voice in every rustle of tree branches, and the chiming of silver bells.

Yes, he thinks — it is.

But he has long since given up trying to rationalize the way you make him feel, ever since you were both children, and he’d imagined what it might feel to someday hold more of you than your hand.

Here, now — with your body pressed to his, Zayne can’t help but wonder at all the parts of you he’s always had — not the bare skin of your waist or the heat caught behind the line of your teeth but other things. The tiny scar on your right elbow (five), the curve of your knee hard against his own (six), the baby’s breath of hair at the nape of your neck that always curled and would never stay in braids the way you liked (seven) —

“Zayne?” your voice is small.

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about? You look so serious.”

Zayne blinks. He wonders if he should tell you about his thoughts, about how there’s not a moment in the day when he’s not thinking about you. About how he wonders if you’re eating, sleeping, if you’re safe. About how sometimes it keeps him up at night when he thinks about the mortality rates of Hunters, of the unknown, unnamed dangers that await you out there, all the things he can’t protect you from.

He wonders if he should tell you that he spends too long thinking of you — of your body and the way it fits so perfectly inside his arms. Of how the last time he held you in his arms, it took everything in him to let you go, set you down on his office sofa, and watch you as your breaths evened out.

So he says, “Nothing…” so he says, “just… thinking about what to make for breakfast.”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s kept your favorite brand of toothpaste in his bathroom for the past several years, or how he’s always got a drawer full of clothes that he knows you like to wear tucked into his closet.

“Oh! What about pancakes? Or… French Toast?”

Your smile is bright and happy and Zayne can’t help the way he leans down to brush his lips against yours. He savors in the way you gasp and soften against him. He lingers too long on how the smooth of your leg slots so perfectly between his.

“Whichever you feel like more,” he says, pulling back to smile down at you, taking note of the brilliant blush that has since settled across your cheeks.

“What if… I say I want both?”

Zayne lets out a sigh, chuckling as he fixes you with a look.

Want. He wonders if you truly know the depths and width of wanting the way he does — and if you’d still want to stay when you did find out.

Instead, he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours, reaching up to cup your cheek in his palm.

“Then… I’ll make both.”

“Really?”

You sound too surprised, too pleased.

“But we’ll have to eat healthier for lunch and dinner.”

You crinkle your nose, “But we’ve been so healthy all week!”

Zayne watches you pout for a moment longer before he sighs and pulls back ever so slightly, casting his eyes at the ceiling, letting out a contemplative hum.

“Or, we can go to the gym.”

He knows exactly the face you’re making before he ever looks over to see you make it, and allows himself a small laugh.

“Ugh, you’re no fun.”

“No?” Zayne turns and you go still next to him, eyes wide as he pins you with a look. He watches with a muted satisfaction as color creeps into your cheeks and you blink, attempting to backtrack.

“That’s not — I mean —”

In a single move, he has you pinned beneath him, both your wrists caught in one of his hands, pinned above your head so that you’re stretched out beneath him. He watches as you tug weakly against his hold before going still, blinking up at him from beneath your thick lashes.

“Though…. I suppose there are other ways of burning calories that might be of more interest to you than going to the gym.”

He keeps his voice level, his expression blank. But he counts the quickening pace of your breath, and sees the darkening of your eyes as your pupils dilate.

“Z-Zayne…”

“Didn’t you say you wanted both pancakes and French Toast?” he leans down with a light smile, casually stroking a finger along the line of your cheek.

“Yes but —”

“But?”

You bite your lips, shifting beneath him. And like this, he can’t help the baser, more carnal parts of him as they threaten to take over his senses. Not with you spread out beneath him like this, so tantalizing in your willingness, so defiant and shy all at once.

“You’ll… really make both for me?”

Zayne almost laughs, nodding as he bends down to press a long kiss to your lips, groaning as your hips roll up into his at the sweep of his tongue along your teeth.

“If you’re good.”

You nod, eyes wide and already misted over, “I — I’ll be good.”

Zayne nods once before he tugs the rest of the blankets from you, letting the hunger crest up and through him as he coos by your ear —

“Good… that’s a good girl for me.”

He does end up making both pancakes and French Toast for you in the end. Though, by the time that happens, it’s much too far past noon for either of you to call it breakfast any longer.

[nightmareweaverz]

What is Love? (Mr. Gap x GN!Reader) Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

CW: Mild gore/injury, a bit of violence but nothing extreme

Word count: 2536

Since people enjoyed it and I had some ideas, I decided to continue this! We meet someone new in this chapter. Keep in mind it's not gonna turn into a love triangle, tho. The new character serves a different purpose. Enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Another book falls shut with a loud thump next to the armchair that's held you for the past two days. A large stack rests beside it. You've been leafing through many of them lately, especially romance books. Not all of them fit your taste, some you would even call boring. Reading wasn't a hobby of yours when you were in the human world, but here, you've found this more enjoyable than walking around with no real purpose. Even the boring ones become less boring eventually. It’s nice to pretend you are a character in a story, with a different life, one that has purpose. Unlike your current reality.

Until you run out of books. Then you have to go out searching for more. This is one of those times. You've read everything from your last find. It was mostly magazines and newspapers, save for one or two novels, some of them half shredded. But their job is done now.

Crowbar in hand and hood drawn over your head, you detach yourself from the armchair and set out on your little mission. Your previous haul is left behind. There is no point in trying to keep any of the things you've finished reading. They'd only slow you down in this ever shifting maze.

The hallways are as creepy and hard to navigate as usual. A locked door here, imminent danger there, some horrific friendly residents and other equally horrific non friendly residents. The usual.

While you're peering inside a vent in an attempt to see if you can use it to get past a wall, Mr. Gap pays you a visit.

“Hello,” he greets you.

“Hello. Can take other room?” You point at the wall.

“Can take.”

“Danger there?”

“No danger. Lots of object.”

That's exactly what you were hoping to hear.

“You take me?”

“Take, take.”

He grabs your arm. Your vision goes black for a moment, as it always does when Mr. Gap moves you from one place to another. Everything goes quiet and you briefly feel a chill envelop you. Then you're in a new place, the room he promised to take you to.

“Thank you.”

Lately, he's been doing a mix of asking for body parts and doing things without wanting anything in return. Whether he’s trying to be nicer or he plans on asking for something later, is unknown to you. The occasionally friendly company is still appreciated.

You turn to the piles of random objects fallen from the human world. A far larger pile than usual. With a little bit of luck, it won’t all be full of worthless junk. You get to sorting through them before an earthquake can do it all in.

“What you search?” Mr. Gap's face peeks out from beneath a toppled over armchair.

“Lots of paper.”

Old dirty clothes, a couple abandoned toys, a lamp, a bike wheel, they all get thrown around in your search. You let out a triumphant “Yes!” when you stumble upon a copy of Frankenstein. It's not romance, but it'll keep you busy nonetheless. You shove it beneath your underarm before resuming the search.

“You like paper? Me like paper,” Mr. Gap comments as he reappears in another nook between two wooden planks.

“Okay,” you say dismissively. Normally, you'd humor him, but this world is unpredictable and you want fuel for your newly acquired pastime before it decide to bury everything beneath a pile of rubble.

You turn over a seat pillow and his face suddenly pops up in the space beneath. He holds out a magazine.

“Oh, thank-”

“Me want your finger.”

This slimy gremlin. You flash him your middle finger, only for a moment, before he can misunderstand and rip it off. The gesture confuses him, but the following grumbles must mean it didn't fly over his head entirely.

“Stop take my paper. Me not give,” you warn that you won't exchange any body parts for magazines he finds before you do.

But he knows this by now. It must simply delight him to see the furrow in your brow and hear you huff in irritation. You return to your task, refusing to grant him anymore satisfaction.

One pile of random objects later, he pops up again, this time with another book. This one is small, made of thick cardboard. The brightly colored cover suggests that it's for children.

“Me give, you teach me,” he says this time.

“Teach what?” He better not be about to ask you to sing itsy bitsy spider.

Mr. Gap opens up the book on a page where a cartoon little boy is offering a flower to a little girl. “What this?”

Where did he find that? Has he been trying to learn more about love? Is that why he's curious about such a gesture? The idea makes you find him kind of cute if it's true. Have you both just been reading romance related material, fumbling like idiots to figure out how it works?

As for explaining it, first, you point at the flower and say the word for it in English, since you're not sure there's a term for it here.

“This flower. Human give flower to person they like. Flower nice, pretty.”

Mr. Gap attempts to speak the new word. “Flower?” He stares at the illustration for another moment, then smiles creepily, the way he always does. “Thank you.”

In exchange, he gives you the magazine he'd tempted you with earlier. It’s a paranormal one. Knowing him, he’s already read through it. Read… Can Mr. Gap read? He doesn’t understand your language when you speak it, but he seems particularly fond of magazines. Is it all for the pictures? Maybe you’ll ask him next time.

You tuck the magazine next to the book and continue through the pile.

Once your left arm is satisfyingly full, you leave the room, now in search of a safe place to sit and read.

The sound of footsteps suddenly approaching nails you to the spot for a moment. Your hand instinctively grips the crowbar tighter, preparing for the worst. Whatever is coming, it better not force you to drop your books and flee. Because then you will be pissed. And you tend to lose control when you are pissed.

Fortunately, what walks in does not prove to be threatening. In fact, it's not even a resident. A young man with messy red hair cautiously steps in, then immediately freezes when he spots you. The sight of him nearly knocks all the air out of you. There is another human in the Other World. A living, breathing human, something you thought you'd never see again.

You are aware of how frightening you look. The bloodied raincoat, the silver hair, the bandages on your face and your blotchy, dark reddish skin. You often turn away quickly when faced with smooth metal, glass and, god forbid, mirrors. It's hard to believe the image you see is you. So his fear of you comes as no surprise. It serves as a grim reminder of what you've become.

“Hello.” When you speak, you use your native language.

“You speak English?!” the young man sounds startled and relieved at the same time.

“Yes… What are you doing here?”

Speaking complex sentences feels far better than you expected. It brings you a type of joy and nostalgia that startles you. Had you been missing it that much?

“I… I don't remember how I got here. Or what I was doing before. I'm just looking for the exit. Can you help me?”

This sounds painfully familiar. You remember when that used to be you. When you still had hope. And that memory tugs at something in your chest and urges you to make sure this man finds that exit. Before it's too late.

“I can help. What's your name?”

Such a human question to ask. The idea of using someone's proper name also makes you happy. When exactly have you become the type of person excited about complex sentences and names?

“I'm Robin. And you?”

You give him your name and he nods uneasily. Perhaps he hasn't been here long enough to be unphased by residents. That's good. It means there's still time.

“Mr. Gap?” you call out as you turn to the nearest crevice you can find. He appears as he always does. “Can take person exit?”

He glances at the human behind you, who is now observing warily. Then he shoots you that annoying grin of his. “Me want your heart.”

“Uh! Not give heart! Lead exit!”

“Not give? Goodbye.” And then he disappears.

You feel a strong urge to smack that grin right off his face. But he's gone and it seems like it's up to you to help this man find his way out.

“What did you talk about?” the man in question asks.

“I thought he'd help, but I overestimated his kindness… Come on, we need to find an elevator. It will take you out of here.”

“Alright… Um, thank you!”

His thanks is met with a dismissive little wave from you. Begrudgingly, the books have to be left here. The chances of finding them again are very slim, but you'll be less efficient with one arm entirely full.

The two of you set out to search for the exit.

The first rooms you pass through are an empty blessing. Robin isn't very talkative. Despite his wide shoulders and tall build, he appears quite timid and frightened. Every time you enter a new room, he first pokes his head in cautiously, then he dares to advance once he knows the coast is clear.

Is this how you used to be? Frightfully wandering the Other World, aided by Mr. Crawling, scared of your own shadow? It's a stark contrast to the apathetic stride you've developed since your return.

“How long have you been down here?” Robin asks after a prolonged silence.

“A while. It's hard to keep track of time here.”

“Is there… no way to turn you back?”

“I had a friend who was searching for a cure. But we got separated…”

You don't want to think about Mr. Silvair or the rest right now. You'd rather just focus on the task of finding the elevator.

“Is your friend like the guy in the hole?”

“Uh, no! That guy is an annoying little jerk who only does as he pleases.” Your face twists in annoyance just thinking about Mr. Gap. He could've effortlessly helped out, but he chose to be a pain instead.

“Oh, sorry.”

The hallway ends with two identical doors. Doors. They're so annoying in this world. Immediate death, sudden threat or a boring room could be waiting behind one and usually there's no way to tell them apart unless you open it.

“Stay back,” you instruct the human as you cautiously turn the doorknob.

Through the crack you've opened, you see a large, mostly empty room apart from a shelf with various toys on it. There are no signs of enemies for now.

“Okay, we can go.”

You step inside, you first and Robin cowering behind you. Everything seems fine as you head towards the doorless exit on the other side of the room. Until the door suddenly shuts and locks behind you.

“Who did that?!” Robin exclaims, startled.

You clutch your crowbar tighter, eyes darting around the room. One of the stuffed animals on the shelf suddenly lunges at you. However, you've spent long enough down here to parry such an attack easily. Swiftly, you swing your crowbar and knock it against the wall. Something shatters inside it. It stops moving.

But you have no time to relax. Robin lets out a startled scream. When you turn his way, several other toys are trying to climb him. One of them has sharp teeth and is biting into his arm.

“Get off him, you pests!” you yell out as you knock them off one by one, always followed by that shattering sound.

When he's freed, Robin quickly backs into a corner, cradling his bleeding arm. He's hurt. That's not good. He hasn't begun to transform at all. So his healing is that of a normal person.

“How deep is it? Let me see.”

“What were those things?! They- they bit me!” He’s panicking.

“Robin, you have to calm down and let me see your injury. It's gonna be okay. I'll get you out. But I need to see your arm first.” You try to be gentle. At least that's not something you've forgotten how to do yet.

He stares with wide eyes full of terror at first. But with each new reassurance, his breathing slowly relaxes and his trembling seizes. He offers you the arm. Gently, you roll up the torn sleeve of his shirt. Nine deep little cuts in a semicircle ooze blood on his forearm. It's not fatal, but leaving it untreated would be unwise.

You quickly glance around the room until you spot the dark void beneath the bottom of the shelf. You hurry to it at once.

“Mr. Gap! We need medicine! Person hurt. Blood,” you announce in the other language.

Mr. Gap does appear. He throws one look Robin's way, then grins at you. “Medicine? Can bring. Me want their finger.”

“Oh, for the love of- Give you my finger!” you try to bargain, not in the mood to explain that giving him a human's finger would defeat the purpose of asking for medicine.

Mr. Gap looks almost offended. Perhaps because you usually never say yes to his demands when he asks for your body parts. “Why?”

“Need medicine! Hurt! If outsider give finger, lots of hurt!” you explain, exasperated.

His face twists in displeasure. When he looks at Robin again, his eyes narrow, like he suddenly can't stand him. “Me not want your finger. Me want their finger.”

“Uh! You slimy little sewer rat!” you insult him, fully aware he hasn't a clue what you're saying, but probably able to tell from your tone it isn't nice. Then you turn away indignantly.

“Did your friend not want to help?” Robin asks timidly when you return to him.

“He thinks everything needs to be a transaction. It's fine, we'll manage without him.”

You lift up a part of your raincoat and rip off a piece of the white garment beneath it. Robin holds out his arm once again and allows you to bandage it.

“Why are you going to such lengths to help me?” he murmurs.

Why? You ask yourself that in turn. Perhaps because you didn't make it out. Perhaps you don't want another person to step outside and feel like a shark in the middle of a city, scary yet powerless and out of place.

“I just want somebody else to make it home after I couldn't.”

“I'm sorry…”

“It's fine. I don't need you to pity me. Just try to stay alive. Come on, let's go.”

You tilt your head towards the doorless opening. Begrudgingly, Robin pushes himself away from the corner and follows you out.

You both fail to notice the small roll of bandages that rolls out from beneath the shelf just as you pass it.