#when I already feel like a terrible friend

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

This Halloween | Yandere SatoSugu

“Hi, gorgeous! Surprised to see me here?”

“Don’t cry, (Y/n). We were never going to kill you.”

The reveal that the small town’s biggest menace was your friends Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. To think that the golden boys of Jujutsu High who were dating two of the victims were hanging off one another in their bloodied costumes. Smiles wider than they’d ever been with their supposed partners, the reality sinking made the bile rise in your throat. 

Thinking about your meditation you close your eyes. The smell of partygoers rotting all over the small beach house fills your nose. The sound of the back screen door bumping against the frame as the beach breeze goes in and out with the tide surging outside. The taste of pennies filled your mouth as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. The twitch of your fingers awkwardly hovered in front of your chest as they flexed in and out. On top of your breathing didn’t calm you as much as it usually did.

“(Y/n) did you hear what I said?”

The voice of Suguru somehow made it past the warbled sound of absolute confusion that clouded your brain. The leather glove lightly held your left hand as he slowly came closer to you’re shivering state. Those brown eyes looking so deeply into your own, it felt wrong to look away. 

“All you have to do is say we left early.”

You opened your mouth to ask but the growing sound of sirens stopped you. Gojo was the first to let out a curse, giggling about running away. He shook his raven-haired partner who hushed him with an amused smile, turning back to you. 

“You can do that for me can’t you Dove?”

The duo left out the back. That screen door screeched as they ran through it; returning to bang against the frame angrily. Its aggressive banging triggered an all-new set of shivers to wrack your body, causing you to fall to the floor. Closing your eyes you try to level yourself again but the sound of your own heartbeat is deafening and the eyes of your best friend pleading with you.

It will haunt you forever.

The sight of Detective Choso brought an uncomfortable pit into your stomach. The man you’d met years ago in another city–your city, with his hair down and his eyes had bags like a masked vigilante. 

“He’s out.”

The news didn’t scare you. Not as it should have. Many may find it strange to know you dreamt about serial killers on death row. But it warned you. Prepared you for the day you’d need to run as far as possible from anything you knew. On the anniversary of that day no less.

“What’s the plan?”

The detective pursed his lip and his eyes wandered. His feet, running the flat of his oxfords on the carpet of the entrance to your apartment. The silent scratch of the wool under his shoe irritated you almost as much as his request.

“We wanted to lure him out. Will you—”

He didn’t need to finish before the door was slammed in his face, pushing him back into the apartment hallway. Choso groaned to himself, the situation's futility ebbing at his already short patience. He calmly knocked on the door again.

A muffled, “Go away!”

He sighed, lightly banging his head on the rusted number of the apartment. With his ear so close to the door he could hear the receding footsteps and the mumbled curses directed at him. He looked down the hall making eye contact with the local department’s plant taking out the trash. He didn’t feel completely terrible leaving when there was a guard there, making a note to try again in 24 hours. 

“I’ll be back.”

It was meant to be assuring but Choso worried it came off threatening as heard a defiant thump on the opposite side of the door. Resisting the urge to sigh again Choso turned tail, making his way to the elevator. Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts, landing on the name: Idiot surrounded by blue hearts. 

Holding the phone at his waist he timed the ringing until he heard said idiot singing out a ‘hello.’ Only then did he bring the phone to his ear and respond. 

“The eggs secured and it’s staying in the next. How’s the snake?”

_____________________________________________________________

Gojo Satoru finished his lecture with a grand gesture as though he had finished giving a presentation. When in fact, he’d pressed play on the school’s TV the second his students got in their seats. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d thought to make himself look better for the detective standing just outside the classroom. Even though they both knew it didn’t matter.

“I appreciate you waiting until the kids were outta the classroom. Wouldn’t want to explain to the parents why the police were in their school.”

The white-haired teacher spoke so cheerfully, that his familiarity with the detective might have seemed positive. The detective wasted no time calling their partners in; the stout one stood at the door while the taller one pulled at the blinds of the classroom. With the classroom darkened and the school slowly emptying the head detective decided to speak. Making a dramatic move of pulling a voice recorder out of his pocket he held it up as he asked his question.

“Where were you the night of October 7th?”

Gojo sat on his desk, kicking his feet as he mockingly thought hard. He pretended to put his fingers to his temple as though that would provide answers. The detective associates sneered at the childish display. 

“Hm on the night of October let me see–”

The man trailed off as he reached over his desk, pulling a calendar out of a drawer. Flipping through it he animatedly pointed his index at the circled date on the calendar. 

Smiling up at the detective Gojo exclaimed, “The anniversary of those horrible murders? Well, I was grieving over the victims by grading my kiddies homework.”

The detective snatched the calendar from him, letting his eyes glaze over the marked paper. Confirming the statement, he tossed the calendar back to him. 

“Can anyone confirm this statement?”

Gojo let out a playful whine in annoyance as he dramatically flung back on his desk. The detective and their bodyguards all flinched at the large movement, hands hovering over the fire-arms tucked under their coats and at their belts.. 

“It’s always evidence with you guys, geez. I have it on the calendar, I never left my house you can ask my neighbors about that.”

“Your neighbors all live three kilometers away from you, That’s not an option.”

“So critical. If I personally broke out some poor inmate on death row do you really think I would have let you just walk into my space like this?”

The question had the detective hovering over their weapon again. Gauging the posture of the white-haired man who was only smirking in their direction with an unsetting nonchalance. The pause that ensued allowed the detectives to reluctantly let their hands drift from their weapons as the sound of multiple chattering students hurriedly approached the empty classroom. The door previously closed swung open to reveal Gojo’s most loyal student–a pink-haired teen leading the charge.

“Teacher! Did you see my post?”

With that smug persisting smirk on his face, Gojo turns his head feigning surprise. 

“Unfortunately no. I was too busy talking with these old friends of mine. What’s up?”

“Dude! The police are totally raiding your place!”

The teen turned his phone around to reveal a short video of police and armored vehicles surrounding the luxurious Gojo estate. Plenty of onlookers also recorded the unnatural phenomenon for the typically small town. Granted the amount of paparazzi that constantly come in and out of the town to film anything they can on the Gojo head wasn’t all that rare, but the authorities looking so closely was. And like everything in this town, it was all anyone would talk about for months. 

“Well, Detective Mahito am I under arrest?”

The long-haired detective sent a look to his partners and the curious teens absorbing the situation. Coming to a decision he openly hovered his hand over his weapon. 

“You are not under arrest but for your safety, you need to come with us.”

Of course, there was a video preceding this of the beloved teacher being escorted into an unmarked vehicle and the students behind the camera being shooed away as it drove off. With all the interested eyes on this case, it almost felt impossible that anything would slip under the radar of millions of curious eyes.

_____________________________________________________________

(Y/n) remembered the way the couple went public with one another. After the tragedy that ensued at the annual Hallow’s Eve party, it was of minor shock that the two golden boys of the high school found solace in one another. Everyone chalked it up to the bonding of trauma after both lost their girlfriends.

“I just found that no one could relate like he can.” 

You heard the reasoning in passing, always around the surrounding crowds curious about the latest scoop on the survivors of the Hallow’s Eve tragedy. No doubt some of them will have turned around to tell the outlets interested in the story as well while others would theorize about the identity of the masked killer.

“Maybe it was them!”

“Yeah, what a defense! ‘I don’t talk anymore after what I’ve seen!’ As if!”

The nauseating feeling would eventually go away but the pressure was suffocating then. Haunting your mind with their echoed speculations and the image of your dead friends. What’s worse was the killers so happily parading their sorrowed expressions along the halls. Accepting the gift baskets and surface-level condolences without an ounce of suspicion. The feeling of your hair raising along your skin when one of them mocked their sympathy towards you.

“Don’t be so hard on them, they’ve seen things no one should have to see.”

The constant threat of tears was a reoccurring pain, as you replayed the events of that party. It was never to be soothed by the couple who’d spend their free time pestering you. Often leaving quickly thereafter to repeat their sick game. 

“Just keep quiet, Dove. We were here the whole time after all.”

“Yup, and to prove it we’ll take a picture. Don’t tell anyone okay?”

You couldn’t bare listening to them any longer. 

______________________________________________________________

Conveniently the press that did have your new contact information weren’t as insistent as before. Quietly asking for a comment on the criminal notoriously associated with Hallow’s Eve murders. After all the rumored victim of the killer was recently detained, surely as the witness that convicted the killer to death row you’d have something to say. You kept quiet. Deleting emails and hanging up phone calls from unidentified numbers, solely focused on getting to your plane on time. 

“I’m so sorry but all commercial planes have been grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Like glass breaking at the perfectly angled rock, you started to crack. 

“What. Do. You. Mean?”

This poor employee didn’t deserve your wrath but she also wasn’t betting on this plane to save her life. She’d nervously stutter and stumble over her words as she denied every out or once of compensation to make this any better. 

“There may be some private planes but those are in incredibly high demand–”

“I’ll go! I don’t care how much just tell me where!”

She seemed reluctant to say but she still told you. Maybe it was because she felt bad, seeing someone so desperate to get away or maybe it was because you were inches from her face. Either way, you were on the tarmac within the hour, along with a few others desperate enough to pay privately. Only to be crestfallen when you arrived at the staircase to enter the plane; letting the other exasperated passengers pass by your still form. 

“May I help you with your bags?”

An attendant, with a shining smile and neatly pressed uniform with the plane’s company proudly pressed right above his heart. Greeting you with nothing but an offer to help; you cursed the involuntary reaction to vomit.

“Are all…the private planes available…from this private airline?”

You tried to keep the tremor in your voice to a minimum as you nervously wrung your hands around the handles of your bag. 

The attendant—none the wiser—smiled and gestured to the other planes lining up the tarmac with rows of people.

“Yes, they are. Gojo Airlines is offering a discount during these trying times–”

He kept talking but you weren’t listening. Turning around to leave, ignoring the airport security and the attendants who were preparing to let you onto the plane. It meant nothing to you for the beating of your heart and your panicked breathing is all you can hear. When you finally waved down a taxi, you quickly dialed a familiar number.

“He knows.”

______________________________________________________________

Detective Jogo looked nervously at the contact of his partner miles away. Since the week that their missing subject committed the grand massacre, he was infamous for. Because of the nature of the parties involved, he was strictly instructed to not call unless absolutely necessary considering they suspected their phones were compromised. 

“You eat yet?”

The question came with a warm bagel and a cup of coffee. Held over his seated form by the burly officer Hanami; coming from the breakroom on the other side of the station. For the first two weeks, it was just following the heir around. But with the inmate scheduled for death row at large and another anniversary coming up, it was decided they’d move the heir into one of their holding cells. Of course, it was lavished with furniture and decorations all chosen by the illustrious Gojo Satoru. He did whine when they demanded to inspect and bug his phone and laptop but the station was taking no chances when it came to this specific case. 

The rumors were enough too.

“Have you checked on him within the last few hours?”

Hanami tilted her head looking at the one-way glass of the blue-eyed witness pacing casually in the fortified room. From the glimpses that Jogo got from his chair across the room, their witness was unusually chipper. The days they spent guarding him throughout the day were incredibly boring; temporarily leaving his job as a teacher to gallivant around a hotel of his choosing didn’t make it better. Throughout those weeks Gojo had subjected the team to an aggravating amount of chatter—none of it helpful or even worth repeating. Detective Mahito was plenty great at keeping up but Jogo and Hanami opted for alternating earplugs. Even with the earplugs in he could pick out the strong hints of annoyance bubbling underneath his wide smile and piercing gaze. 

The change unnerved him. Especially with the rumors circulating around this specific witness. 

“Didn’t want to besides I’m watching from the camera.”

Blunt and unforgiving Jogo wouldn’t expect anything more from the officer. It didn’t put him at ease. 

“Where’s Mahito? Still investigating that place?”

If it was possible Hanami’s apathetic expression tightened, her brows knitting at the thought. 

“Yes. Last he called all the evidence had been scrubbed and all we can hope now is that they forgot something we could use.”

Jogo sucked his teeth in shared annoyance. The rumor he was dreading was more like an undisclosed fact. The true masterminds behind the Halloween Massacre were both Gojo Satoru and the death row inmate Suguru Geto. The files say the Gojo family lawyer fought hard for the heir; effectively blaming it all on Suguru Geto. With prints, hair, witness testimony, and photographic evidence all on the heir they were able to plead for coercion by malicious manipulation. Getting their heir off and painting his partner in crime to be a greater threat than he. The whole fiasco of the jewel of the Gojo clan being involved made the whole case a living nightmare, that their superior Choso Kamo rose to fame with. By finally encouraging the only witness with viable evidence to testify Suguru Geto was sentenced to death row. And through expert lawyers mysteriously hired, he remained waiting for years. 

Choso, before he left to guard the witness, believed it wasn’t just an escape attempt but a chance for the killers to tie everything up. Destroy the evidence, stop the search for the death row inmate, exact revenge on all who participated in the case, and reunite with their loved ones by the end of Halloween. 

Of course, it was their best detective leaving to protect the witness who was in the most danger. Leaving his underlings—Mahito and Jogo to keep them on the pulse of the case and their eyes on the man believed to get off scot-free. 

If it weren’t for him knowing Choso cared so much for this specific witness; he would have thought he was leaving them the rough side of this mission. He knew the hardened detective could be a compassionate man–a hard thing to retain in this line of work. 

Jogo huffed taking a sip of his coffee,” I hope he’s having a better time than we.”

Hanami made a grunt of agreement before returning to the hall to stare at the monitors she had been for the past couple of days. He would have offered to switch if he didn’t think he thought this pit in his stomach could be resolved. 

The 40-year-old detective stood from his seat. Careful to nurse the leg he’d fractured from two cases ago. He took his uneaten bagel, noting it retained some of its heat. He headed to the holding cell. Sending a look to the guard at his station, a buzzer rang and the door unlocked. With the final swipe of his keycard, he let himself into the semi-messy room. The culprit was sitting on his bed, a smile still on his smug little face.

“Hungry?”

Those cerulean eyes weren’t on him the second he came in, instead looking at the clock left graciously in the upper corner of the room. Nor did they flicker when Jogo asked his question. The disrespect made the Detective’s eyebrows twitch as he kept his hand holding the bagel. 

“I’m not going to eat your leftovers, old man.” 

“Not good enough for you!? Not up to your snobby standards,” was what Jogo wanted to say but he didn’t need to get kicked off this case for suspected bias. It didn’t help that the man still wasn’t looking at him, laughing to himself as though Jogo told the funniest joke. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

Jogo was trying. He really was.

“Nope, but I’ll eat later today.”

Jogo loosened up,” Have any idea what you want?”

The Gojo heir’s smile didn’t compare to the smirk he had on before. His smile practically reached his ears and those haunting eyes staring right through Jogo, “All of your livers.” 

“What?!”

The suspect wasn’t speaking anymore and Jogo’s phone was ringing. 

Jogo had a decision to make. Answer the call or make sure he just heard what he did. 

“You should answer that. He might never call again.”

Despite his better judgment, Jogo pulls out his phone, seeing the name of his fellow detective and the goofy photo they took on his phone. Another look at the white-haired man and he answered the call. Immediately his ears were assaulted with the sounds of wood crackling; the unnatural sound made his mind piece together what was happening.

“I-it’s a trap!” the tearful voice of Mahito rings the loudest. Jogo almost doesn’t want to speak as if that would make what he heard go away. “G-get out–”

The sound of something large falling and the frantic screaming from either the detective or some other poor soul being abruptly cut off. Punctuated by the phone call ending. 

Jogo couldn’t take it anymore throwing his phone aside to reel his fist back to punch the chuckling man in the face. Prepared to fight against the guards that would be arriving any second he aimed with urgency. He was certain he’d have time to get in one. One good hit to the face of the man responsible for the chance that his partner might be dead. 

“Did you really think I’d just let that happen? That’s cute.”

Jogo’s fist was easily captured by Gojo’s hand, a careless gesture strong enough to keep the shaking fist static and far from its intended target. Unnerved by that restraint the detective launched his other fist only for it to receive the same treatment. Pushing with all his might Jogo–in the split seconds of any fight—found himself at an impasse. Figuring if both his fists were being thwarted he’d go to the next best thing–his legs. Cursing the ache he’d have later he aimed to kick the heir in the gut. 

“But not that cute.”

The quip was a warning barely processed as Gojo caught the man off-guard, releasing his fists to latch onto the outstretched leg. Gripping the ankle of the old man swung the body of the detective into the one-way glass. It crackled under his weight bursting with shards of glass as the stout man rolled past the curious guard’s post. 

Jogo didn’t feel like he could get up but he did watching the blue-eyed man let himself out of the holding cell, a stolen I.D. being twirled in his hands. He didn’t need the guard to let him out, outright kicking the metal door until it flew off its hinges.  Of course, the guards in the room moved with a taser and baton in hand. 

“You guys are so dramatic! How about you go out begging then maybe I won’t make you suffer.”

The guards didn’t bother responding to the one with the baton going first. Swinging from above any normal man could barely manage to dodge but Gojo was by no means normal. He easily sidestepped the baton using the downward stroke of the officer to grab at his neck. At speeds, Jogo couldn’t comprehend the officer’s head was facing the opposite direction. Even worse they weren’t dead their eyes darting around as they tried to scream—making a gargled plea instead. The one with the taser barely had time to fire, missing the dodging assailant who easily grabbed the coils beaming with electricity to pull the gun from the guard's shaking hands. Defeated with a hand slicing toward their exposed neck also making the man gurgle as he fell to the floor.

“Now what was it we were talking about?” 

The question was directed to Jogo and the pain paralyzed him to the floor. Helplessly watching as Gojo slowly walked closer. The old man’s eyes darted nervously around searching for anything to use. His thoughts raged with an all-manner of possibilities running through his mind there was one tool bound to stop the incredibly durable heir. His gun. Jogo took great care to not let this realization be made. Planning to only reveal this when he needed which would be soon, judging by the way Gojo was cracking his knuckles. 

“About how this was all planned by you?”

Jogo was stalling but it didn’t seem Gojo was listening. The heir tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he looked annoyed at the aching detective. 

“Are you done because otherwise, I’m just going to end–”

In a large flash of blue, the heir stood back just barely dodging the hurling form of Hanami. Using her natural height against him she aimed a violent punch into the ground, cracking the concrete the heir was standing over just a moment before sidestepping. Jogo felt his heart lift, who greater to fight alongside than Hanami—the human tank with punches as strong as steel. Surely now they had a chance.

Jogo pulled out his gun aiming at the dodging heir. Waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger and finally end the menace that got to run free. 

“This really was fun but I’m tired of this place.” The declaration sounded petulant like a child,” and I’m tired of you.”

Almost in annunciation a pale hand shot through the chest of Officer Hanami–the human tank stopping her assault to look down at the hand pulling out of her. Before Gojo’s bloodied hand could leave a spray of her blood dousing her face and eyes. Fear-filled eyes watched his partner struggle as a waterfall of viscous carnage poured out of her baffled mouth. 

Through the tears growing in his eyes, Jogo fired his gun. 

Over a year spent in the police academy and being a rookie in the small town. To a supervisor to a junior detective who humbled himself to learn the young genius detective. More than certain his aim was true, he collapsed into himself. The weight of both his partners, his friends dead when just hours ago they were as lively as ever. 

Thankful that the beast responsible was gone.

“Glad you came I was just about ready to clean up myself.”

The monster he thought he’d defeated was standing above him casually calling out to another down the hall. Whoever this was holding a disembodied arm and was casually walking in the halls surrounded by bloody remains of the investigative team. 

As frightening as it was to revel in the new threat having gotten past security and was brutal enough to be carrying the limbs of his coworkers. But it didn’t take away from the horror of realizing his gun never did go off. Instead, his gun was squished with the bloodied hands of Gojo Satrou, who sent one last disgusted look in his direction before dropping the disfigured gun in his lap. 

“I told you, I had it under control.”

“Whatever you say ‘kuna.”

“Don’t call me that. Now go on get to your ‘date.’”

If Gojo had taken the talons he called fingers and torn out Jogo’s heart it would have been better than recognizing the pink-haired, tattooed man, covered in blood. To think he’d have the privilege to die near the detective-turned-mercenary Ryomen Sukuna. Face ashen and succumbing to his fate, he wistfully watches the white-haired man skip over the carnage of the force. Without so much of a glance, the Gojo Satoru had taken everything from him in a matter of minutes. 

The only thing he did have left was doomed to be gone soon.

“You ready to fight to your death?”

An idol asking a question worthy of someone who wasn’t likely paralyzed by merely being thrown through a window and failing to shoot the man responsible for the destruction of an effort to maintain justice no matter who the suspect is. There was only one thing he could say as Sukuna awaited his answer. 

“Yes. More than ready.”

______________________________________________________________

Today was the day you’d broken your silence all those years ago. Once again traveling with the detective to the far reaches of a rural town far away within the safe confines of a car. It didn’t soothe you in the slightest. From the airport incident, the unnerving shiftiness within your stomach hadn’t settled not like it did when Suguru was finally shipped off to prison and not like when Gojo was sent to a foreign exchange school. It wasn’t over.

“How are you doing?”

The question was worthless but you hadn’t said anything since Choso dignified the plan. A lot was unspoken between you but talking was still necessary.

“Like throwing up. How’s your brother?”

The immediate question was not just a deflection, it was the easiest way to distract the detective. Choso was a proud older brother who at any topic that reminded him of his little brother ensued in long rambles about said brother. It’s a perfect soundtrack to drown your thoughts and avoid playing therapist with the detective you’re effectively running away with.

“Since you asked—”

Seeing the tired straight-faced detective finally begin to smile as he proceeded to rant. It’s a nice change to the gloom you both permeate. You figured you’d help stave it off for a while with some light chatter. 

“---and his little friends all look up to him like the natural-born leader he is!”

“He’s in high school now right?”

“He is. He’s actually….” Choso trails off as his smile falls,” he’s actually going to Jujutsu High.”

The name of the familiar school renews the tense atmosphere and with terrifying speed, the synapses of your brain begin to fire off. Suddenly you can guess why Choso insisted the plant stay behind or how he refused the undercover police escort. Or why instead of awkwardly attempting to cheer you up he keeps his tired eyes on the road ahead. 

“So the safe house was a lie.”

Choso visibly grimaced, “Not entirely. I wouldn’t give you to them if I wasn’t sure you’d be safe.”

“Them!?”

He dared to look at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“I know what they’re after and they’re not going to hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, “You trusted the serial killers who promised they weren’t going to hurt me?! Gee, what a smart detective you are, let’s blindly trust the guys who have a death wish for me!”

Choso had the nerve to look offended at that. You didn’t bother holding back your glare, anxious to hear the reasoning behind this betrayal. His hands tightening against the wheel told you there was some turmoil—as if that would resolve the bubbling fury that had you debating about taking the wheel and driving you both off the road.

“My partners went back to the place, searching for evidence.” He spared a look towards you as if confirming you’d shrink in on yourself at the mention of that Halloween Night. “It was rigged to explode after they found some evidence. My other partners that were meant to guard him….”

His tired eyes were blinking in a futile effort to hold back tears. Thankfully he had the decent to pull over before clasping his hands over his tired face. With only the light sniveling filling the car, you were forced to remember that night. The fire. The blood. It was all too much. You reached for the handle of the door, pulling at it to get into the open fields Choso pulled in. Only to find the door would not give.

“(Y/n), their funerals will be closed caskets and the cause of death will be chalked to some accident that explains the state of the bodies.”

He was trying to look at you, to get you to look at him. The droplets clouding your vision and the frantic breathing you were trying to regulate weren’t helping. Recognizing your struggling he grasped your hands, holding them the way he did when you first fought to retell the tale that imprisoned one of the most infamous killers to exist. Rubbing his rough thumbs over your knuckles in comforting circles encouraging you to slowly inhale and exhale.

“They did that to the ones they wanted dead for years. They told me, the last thing they wanted to do was harm a hair on your head.”

The tears were running as Choso pulled you into a hug, listening to you blubber about it being a lie.

“I think if they wanted you dead they would have done so by now.”

His assessment was crude but the truth. Deep down underneath the fear and noxious feeling of encountering those two again, there was still disbelief. A part of you that always denied that the friends you’d seen reveal themselves to you would ever think about reducing you to one of their many victims. Perhaps for your sanity, you’ll have to trust in the friends you know. The friends that confided in such a secret all that time ago.

“So your brother…anyone else?”

He knew what you meant and as he lit a cigarette; he answered with a puff. 

“The whole town. Practically wiped out the entire workforce with the stunt they pulled.”

He inhaled with a wince, taking in another painful huff. He hated smoking.

“If they did do anything the whole town would be completely at their mercy…”

Reaching into his coat pocket, you pulled out a cigarette for yourself swiping his lighter to enjoy your cancer stick. Both of you fill the inside of the car with your despair, smoking your anxieties into something smaller. Hopefully weaker. 

“Well if it’s for your brother and the whole town then I guess it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

Both of you joylessly laughed, taking long pained drags of the sticks—all the while licking at the tears that escaped your blinking eyes. A couple more puffs of smoke were had before Choso pulled back onto the road.

For whatever reason things were lighter as if that would take away to the possibly dangerous future you’d be subjected to.

“When you can, you should take Itadori to see the city. That’ll really change his life.”

“Any places you recommend?”

“Do you want a list?”

It was nice to fill the space with something positive—a rare activity you two partook in after the court case. It was nice to do it one last time. 

The drive wasn’t much longer, eventually pulling up to a small neatly painted house with no car in sight, if it weren’t for Choso’s intel you’d have been none the wiser. 

As he put the car in park, he looked at you. As sincerely as he’s always done despite visible tiredness in his face. His arm wrapped around yours with a hesitant hand. 

“If you really don’t want to do this you don’t have to. You can punch me and we can say you ran off into those cornfields we passed by earlier.”

Mustering a smile as you leaned your head against his chest, “I’ll be fine Choso. Say ‘hi’ to Yuji for me.”

He helped you get your bags, knocking in a specific tune on the door. The door opened and an old woman revealed herself, welcoming you with a warm smile inviting you both inside. You looked to Choso in confusion as you followed closely behind leading you to a parlour filled with hideously dated and flowery decor. She insisted you sit, promising to fix some lemonade for you both. 

“Oh, young man can I have your help with this? I’d get it myself if it weren’t so high.”

Choso hurriedly followed after her, sending a look for you to sit and relax. 

This felt weird throwing off your expectations for your meeting with the murderous duo. Managing the burden of a fate to come you allowed your hands and eyes to wander. Letting your eyes glaze over with thoughts of how old the intricate wooden end stand is. Playing with the frayed edges of the quilt decoratively draped over the couch. It kept you distracted long enough, finally breaking out when you saw the long and pale hands coming to wrap around your chest. In a perfect world, it would have been Choso being oddly affectionate but these fingers were longer than his, sculpted to the very knuckle to become a living weapon. Accompanied by an inhale against the top of your head the owner of these hands pulled you further against the back of the couch; further pulling you into the warm soft and sturdy chest of a man you’d feared. A curtain of silky black hair much longer than you remembered dropped just past your shoulders, daring you to look up at its owner who refused you the luxury of space as the shadow-colored eyes stared deeply into yours.

“Hello, Dove. You look radiant as ever.”

Velvety as the day he testified and was sentenced was Suguru Geto. Older but just as handsome as the day you met; exuding the air of gentleness that made anyone feel at ease. That is until he didn’t need to. Those hands long and spindly trailed from your chest and on to your neck tracing your collarbone through your clothes. Finally resting on the middle of your neck, index fingers toying with the organ underneath your skin.

“Hum for me Dove.”

It was just like old times, unwilling to speak and yet plagued by the demand into those dark eyes to give something. So you hummed broken and uneven, in your ears it was hardly the symphony he claimed it was. But it didn’t really matter what you thought now.

“That’s my Dove.”

He annunciated proudly moving his hands to hold your face up, keeping you in place as he softly explored your mouth. Nibbles were soft but urgent as though there was a timer for this reacquaintance unlocking the memories of this exact kiss. 

Under the stairwell after a big game, the first after the reveal. Satoru was insistent you come, unable to goad a word out of you, he had you hum. A promise to come to their game and cheer them on. As per usual they won, despite suffering from so many late players the team relied on their surviving all-star players. Unsurprisingly Satoru was majorly credited with their win, allowing Suguru to pick you out from the cheering crowd leading you under the stairwell.

“Aren’t you proud of me, Dove? Show me how proud of me you are.”

The kiss was just like this, still soft but needy. Hands methodically wandering to allow for an opening; some easier access to melt his body into yours in the minutes he had before the others came. It was just like this.

“Aw gorgeous, you missed us?”

Playful as always and hands eagerly running under the hem of your shirt to rub thumbs along the soft expanse of your skin. Pecks in between the hands creeping higher all the while Sugure tightens his grip on your jaw a warning not to forget him. Not ever again.

When Suguru does pull away it’s to suck at your neck, holding you by your shoulders as you’re hands wiggle with uncertainty. Even subconsciously you hesitate to have your hands reciprocate while the two assaulted you with kisses that were getting rougher by the minute. Satoru ignored Suguru when he climbed up higher to meet your lips; and worked to intertwine his fingers with yours. With another attempt, he roughly pulled at Suguru’s lips with his teeth demanding they share a deep kiss of their own before returning to you.

“Oh Gorgeous we’ve been waiting to do this since forever.”

Two more final pecks from each of them, allowed you to breathe leaving you limp and pliable for the especially touchy Gojo Satoru who slotted you into his lap as he settled onto the older couch. Suguru sat closely his arm reaching over the top of the couch to let his hand rub at your neck once again. 

“Missed you at the airport.”

The pit in your stomach returned at the loaded judgment and came with a pinch into your side. Under Suguru’s scrutinizing gaze and the feeling of Satoru’s eyes from behind you, had you hoping to defend yourself.

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

You said it with attempted laughter, begging for the laughter of the killers you’ve feared for years–all to confirm that still wasn’t the plan. 

Suguru in his forever-contained demeanor sent you a smile with half-lidded eyes. The most unclear answer to the anxiety that hadn’t rested even with the butterflies of kissing these two again. The vibration of a laugh from behind wasn’t an answer either and neither were the muscular arms circling you. 

Suguru released your neck, and brought his hand to hold up his head,” So you and the detective. Did you get together, after I left?”

The growl behind his smile reminded you of why it took so much courage to speak out. Something you bore witness to since the couple decided to reveal themselves to you. Not only for the fear of ending up like their victims but for the entirely personal punishment only Suguru in all his infinite fury could conjure.

“No! I’ve been single this whole time.”

That got you a squeal from Satoru who lightly squeezed you tightly into him giving light pecks to your neck. Not stopping anytime soon you turned your attention back to Suguru, who still didn’t look pleased.

“Hm, I’m not convinced.”

The nonchalant claim made you feel like crying again. You remember this conversation when it came to an old friend. Even when you pleaded, silently albeit he’d scoff and smile at you while he remained ‘unconvinced’. Kissing your forehead before leaving to claim another victim for the masked killer. 

“He brought you to me …he-he convinced me to talk.”

That wasn’t true. It was you. Through a month of self-care and therapy, you were able to muster the ability to speak again. Choso was great support but it was you who did it. You who gained the courage to move away and restart your life away from the memories of your serial killer boyfriends. Speaking of, you whimper at the sting of pain along your neck.  

Straining your gaze to look at the man whose admiring the mark on your neck. Despite the loving caressing of his hand along your neck, the glare of Satoru Gojo was just as frightening as the killer sitting across from you.

“I don’t know I think that’s all the more reason!” 

You couldn’t restrain yourself from silently pleading with Suguru looking deeper into the house where Choso disappeared with the older woman. Suguru sent a hand through his unrestrained hair as he sighed.

“I’m not pleased with you (Y/n). Telling on us like you did someone’s got to pay.”

You could hear Gojo smirk behind you.

“So what do you say, babe round 3 of our favorite Halloween Night?”

Suguru released his locks as he mockingly stuck his nose to the sky,“I’ll think about it.”

Suddenly the rickety old house shook from a plane overhead; thinking nothing of it you expectantly looked at Suguru who seemed to be debating. Only for him to abruptly stand and make his way to the door. Satoru hopped up with you in tandem refusing to let you walk on your own without him clinging onto you.

They both made their way to the back porch where the very plane you’d refused to ride a day ago was releasing its stairs. With the steps fully extended Satoru tugged you along as Suguru began to ascend. With the question of Choso’s life still hanging in the balance you dug your feet into the ground pointing at the house which Satoru barely acknowledged until you’ve turned yourself in his direction.

“Wait! My bags! Choso has my bags!”

That had Suguru coming down the steps faster than you could turn; feeling that familiar grip on your jaw as he forced your gaze on him.

“You don’t get to choose if we bring that with you. I didn’t get to choose what I got to bring when you sent me to that cell. ”

You held your gaze as you stood your ground, “Not him. Be mad at me! Not him.”

For a moment those black depths flashed with something violent; a glimpse of what hundreds had seen in their last moments. 

It wasn’t for you but how could you know that?

Suguru sighed lessening his grip on your jaw, using both his hands to hold your face. Running his thumbs along the creases of your face as if he had to remember the texture of your skin against his own. Since his reunion with Gojo, he fought tears, pulling you into a hug. One you returned on instinct, somehow even with the blood splattered on his face with the mask of a serial killer hanging on his head he was still your friend. As Gojo closed in from behind you you reminded that you felt the same for him; more than certain that you’d be rendered the same helpless witness to the deaths of so many friends.  It would always end this way. 

with them at the end of the blade, with the power they’d always have. 

Satoru settled a hand on your waist and his other on Suguru’s face, his smile as warm and welcoming as the day you first met. 

“Come on you two. Let’s spend this Halloween together. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Finally entering the plane a part of you felt like you lost. That you succumbed to the imbalanced rulers of the system. But the largest part of you knew since you’d gotten involved with these two, you’d been given the footprint of a giant and it really would be better for everyone if you let them win especially this once. 

At least with certainty, you can say this Halloween no one else is dying because of you.

[lovemomhatepolice]

Hey babessss could you do a drew starkey x reader’s first time together… smut? Love yo<3

31’ - drew starkey

navigation taglist requests

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

warnings: first time sex, sexual overtones, age difference (Drew is 31, reader is 21), established relationship, oral sex, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), drunk!drew, drunk!reader, blowjob, a tiny bit of fingering, English is my second language!

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut with plot, a little bit of fluff (because drew is a cutie pattotie)

word count: 5k

summary: happy birthday beautiful man. there can't be a better gift, right?

more content: drew starkey masterlist, obx masterlist

You nervously adjusted the shoulder strap of your black dress, once again that evening. At the tenth you stopped counting. You were terribly annoyed by its material, its length, well today just everything stressed you out. You didn't know why yourself, and you were angry with yourself, because you were supposed to act as unsuspecting as you could - and it didn't work out.

"Drew, are you ready?" you finally asked, exiting the bathroom after spending a long time in it.

Today was his 31st birthday, which was no small feat. After 30, life starts to get more serious, even for someone like Drew.

Drew heard you open the door and from his seat in the living room he could see you coming out of the bathroom. He swallowed hard as he looked at you - you were as incredibly beautiful as you are every day. But there was something about you today - the way you walked, the way you smiled at him, the way you wore that dress - he couldn't take his eyes off you. In fact, for a few seconds he stopped functioning at all.

“Yes, I'm ready,” he finally said, getting up from the couch.

"Great," You smiled at him and picked up your purse, which was lying on a cabinet in his hallway.

You didn't live together, it was still too serious a step in a relationship you had only been in for less than two months. Despite the fact that you had known each other practically all your lives, by the fact that both of you lived near each other and you were friends with his sister Brooke, your relationship progressed very slowly and you were both probably happy about it. Finally, in such a fast-paced world, you could at least relax for a while and enjoy each other longer.

He walked over to you and grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. You were so perfectly fitting in his hand - and he would never get enough of that sensation. A part of him also just liked the way it looked; how he would tower over you and your small hand would disappear in his bigger one.

“Ready to go?” he then asked again, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it.

"I should be the one to ask you that," you laughed lightly, blushing from the tenderness. Drew was always like that. He always took care of everyone, tried to make no one feel bad. And for that you loved him.

"My birthday boy."

Drew pulled you closer to him and threw his free arm around your shoulders. He began to lead you toward the front door. “Are you sure you're not the birthday girl?”

He let go of your hand so he could open the door, and then opened it for you, holding the other at your back. He teased you. “You're just as excited as I am, or even more so.”

"Oh, because in the end I'm the one who can take you out to dinner and pay for everything," you said, sticking your tongue out in his direction as he closed his apartment.

Drew was already like that - he never let you pay for any of your dates or food. And even when you had to split it in half (which he didn't agree to very readily), he continued to try to wring it out somehow.

He laughed lightly as you headed to the elevator together. He pressed the button and turned to face you, his back leaning against the elevator wall. He lightly combed his hair with his hand, on which his inseparable ring.

“We've been over this before,” he said, still looking at you with a goofy grin. “I won't let you pay anything on my birthday. And in fact, I'd best not let you pay for anything. And ever,” he snarked.

"And that you can not allow, and I'll do it anyway," you laughed and took the lip gloss out of your purse. You turned toward the elevator mirror and started applying it back.

He smiled, looking at you. The man pulled away from the elevator wall and walked closer to you. He then grabbed your hips from behind and pulled you close, gently trailing his thumbs along your sides. Because of the large height difference, he bent down slightly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Stop being so stubborn,” he teased in a light tone, placing a light kiss on your head.

"You're the one who should stop being so stubborn," you muttered, putting the lipstick back in your purse.

You turned toward him and put your hands on his white shirt, gently correcting it. "It's your birthday and I want you to just let yourself be pampered."

He chuckled, his arms then moving around your waist while he looked at you.

“You’re the one that deserves to be pampered,” he said honestly and leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, placing a light kiss on it.

"You too. Big grown man" you laughed playing with the button of his shirt.

Drew looked unearthly today. Every day he looked like he was created by angels, but today? Today he outdid himself. White shirt, black pants and matching jacket. Plus his hair, which was now a little longer... he looked like a god. „You’re thirty one today, that's no even a joke anymore.”

He also giggled when he listened to you. He loved the feeling of your hands playing with the button of his shirt. It was such a random and small thing, but it was still soothing. He enjoyed those little moments between you. When it was just you and the whole world was suddenly silent.

“Don't remind me,” he said with a small giggle, and a smile appeared on his lips as he watched you. “I feel old.”

"But you have ten years younger girl, it makes you younger," you laughed and grabbed his hands, which he had on your waist.

He giggled, well aware of this. Well, your age difference was something too big and unusual for many. But he didn't care, it was nobody's business. It was only yours, and you felt the best you could.

“Somehow it worked out that way, huh?” he asked with a smile and moved one of his hands to grab your chin, letting his thumb gently brush your lower lip.

"Oh don't touch or you'll smear my lip gloss" I laughed, feeling his thumb on my lip.

He chuckled again and shook his head, but his eyes were locked on your lips. The way they just begged him to lean in and kiss them.

“It’s not like I haven’t smeared it before,” he said in a teasing tone while he continued to caress your bottom lip with his thumb.

"That's why I had to correct it,"you laughed, looking into his beautiful blue irises, which were now, as always, laughing.

"Don't exaggerate," he laughed and leaned slightly over you, smacking your lips.

You smiled into his mouth, returning the kiss lightly. Now his lips were also shining from your pink gloss, but before you could tell him, the elevator doors opened on the right floor.

You took his hand and intertwined your fingers together, walking out of the elevator in front of him. You headed toward the exit of the building, getting more and more excited about the party you had organized. Drew trusted you and let you lead the way, but as soon as you spotted your present driver parked in front of Drev's apartment building, you stopped for a moment.

"Wait, i have to blindfold you" you said and took out a blindfold from your purse so he couldn't see anything.

In the end, Drew thought the two of you were going to dinner. But in fact you were taking him to his favorite club in Charleston, where all his family and friends were waiting for him.

"And how am I supposed to go the car without seeing anything?” he asked with a smirk.

„I’ll help you dumbass”

He laughed as he listened to you and allowed you to put the blindfold on him.

“I hope you don’t leave me stranded somewhere,” he said with teasing tone, poking your ribs.

You bent under his finger as he stabbed you in the ribs and laughed. “Oh this is just my dream. To leave you here alone blindfolded.” you muttered and took out some more headphones from the purse. “You can't hear either, forgive me darling,” you added and put the headphones over his ears, kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I've lost all my senses because of you,” he muttered, letting himself be led toward the car. “I knew it a long time ago, but to do it in a literal way. Wow. I didn't expect that.” You snorted with laughter and slowly opened the car door for him, being careful not to hit him, because compared to a low car, Drew was a giant and could quickly get a bump.

You got in after him and greeted your driver, who already knew the address well, so he only smiled in your direction. After a while, you set off for your chosen location, which was not that far away, but you had to drive a bit. And you knew very well that if you both had a drink with Drew, you would neither return as a driver nor on your feet.

Drew instinctively caught your hand and intertwined your fingers, playing with your nails, which you had freshly done. You smiled under your breath and laid your head on his shoulder.

~~~ You have already entered the club without much obstruction, however, further without taking off either the armband or the headphones. You led him out into the middle, letting his friends and family surround him, until you finally gave them a sign that they could shout surprise, when at the same time you took off his headband and headphones at the same time. “Surprise!” you exclaimed along with the others, looking from the sidelines at his reaction.

Drew stood for a moment, as if enchanted. Then he began to look around him, and when he saw all his loved ones, it made his heart warm. Each of them on this one day decided to come and make the man's birthday even better.

You smiled sincerely in his direction, continuing to be surprised that it all worked out the way you wanted. Everyone was there - the entire OBX cast, Odesa, his hometown friends and immediate family. “Surprise?” you asked, laughing lightly at your boyfriend.

Drew tried to say something, but continued to be too surprised. “I-wow…” he laughed under his breath, walking a little closer to you. “Really, thank you.”

His smile continued to grow as he took in the sight of so many familiar faces around him.

“The best things for the best boyfriend,” you muttered, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him slightly closer to you, smacking your lips. You must have distracted him a bit before his mother managed to blow out the candles on the cake she had prepared.

He laughed again as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, then turned to look at his mother, who was now standing in front of him with a birthday cake.

“How the hell did you manage to keep this a secret from me?” - he said, and everyone laughed.

“I guess we never know,” you said and wanted to move away from him so he could stand by the cake himself, but he cut you off.

But before you had a chance to take more than a step away from him he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from moving away.

“I want you here,” he muttered in a low tone only you could hear.

His mother set the cake down in front of him, and everyone started singing “Happy Birthday.” Drew’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and you couldn’t help but admire how his face lit up in the glow of the candles.

When the song ended, he took a deep breath and blew out the candles, laughter and cheers erupting from the crowd. You clapped along, feeling proud of your surprise.

“Alright, let’s cut this cake!” Drew said, reaching for the knife. He looked around at everyone, then back at you, his smile softer now. “I can’t believe you all did this for me. This means so much.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion. “You deserve it, Drew. You’re amazing.”

As the cake was served, you took a moment to glance around the room. Friends were laughing, drinks were flowing, and the energy was electric. This was what you had hoped for—a celebration of Drew, surrounded by the people who loved him most.

Once everyone had their slices, Drew turned to you, a slice of cake in hand. “Here, let me feed you.”

You giggled, opening your mouth playfully as he brought the fork to your lips. The sweet flavor burst in your mouth.

The two of you sat somewhere in a corner, eating a cake together. Around you sat some of his friends and family, the rest were either getting ready to wish him well and give him a gift, another part was already standing at the bar, starting the celebration.

“Give me your jacket, I'll go put them away in the locker room, and you take care of the guests here.” you said to him, finishing your piece of cake.

"Don't be long," he muttered and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

“I promise,” you muttered and went to the locker room, putting your jackets away together. In the meantime, his sister Mackalaya accosted you, giving you a tight squeeze. You had known her all my life, too, so it was great to see her again.

"How are you? How are you guys doing?"

Meanwhile, Drew continued to chat and talk to his friends sitting around him, but his eyes were continuously drawn to the direction where you had left moments ago.

“It really couldn't be better,” you smiled sincerely at her. “Drew is so wonderful, we are so damn happy.”

She chuckled happily at your answer, nodding her head with a smile.

"It's lovely to hear, you are just perfect for each other," Mackalaya said and glanced in her brother's direction for a second, seeing how he kept looking toward the locker room, waiting for you to return.

“We may come to you soon, after Drew finishes recording,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I can't wait to see Liliana.”

You saw Drew stand from the table and head to the bar with the others. You laughed under your breath as your gazes met together again and Mackalaya no longer held you.

“Looks like the party is really getting started now! Should we join them?”

She then looked back at you and nodded her head with a smirk.

“I think it’s our cue to join them,” she said, then grabbed your arm and led the way toward the bar counter.

As you approached, you could hear snippets of Drew’s conversation, his laughter ringing out like music. He caught your eye again, and that familiar warmth spread through you. He gestured for you to come closer, his smile broadening.

He moved forward slightly, stretching his arm and grabbing you by the hip, pulling you against him until you were standing between his legs.

“What did you order?” you asked, glancing at the bartender, who was preparing various drinks and grabbed the menu in your hand and looked for something for yourself.

Drew leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I ordered a round of mojitos. They’re the best here,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. You could feel the excitement buzzing around you, the energy of the party enveloping both of you.

“Then I'll take the same too,” you muttered and handed it to the bartender, who added another mojito to his queue.

Drew rested his chin on your shoulder and let out a low chuckle as you felt him inhale the scent of your hair.

“How do you feel?” you asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Happy," he managed to utter before he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against your skin. "I just want to enjoy the moment. Care to join me?”

The way he looked at you made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m in. Let’s make it a night to remember.”

The whole evening passed in a wonderful atmosphere. Everyone danced, drank drinks, talked to a lot of people and you all just enjoyed being with Drew on his birthday. The man also seemed to be in awe. He had a smile on his lips the whole time and didn't leave your side for a moment. Whether you were dancing or he was getting a gift from his friends, you always had to be next to him. And you didn't mind at all.

As the night progressed, the air filled with excitement. You found yourself lost in the rhythm of the party, the way he pulled you closer during a slow song, his hands resting on your waist, made your heart flutter.

“Best birthday ever,” he said, his eyes sparkling when he looked at you. Drew started getting slightly more and more clingy with you.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, a playful smile on his lips as he leaned in.

He pressed soft, lingering kisses along your neck, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Each gentle touch felt electrifying, and you couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face.

Drew tightened his grip, making it clear he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon. As the music pulsed around you and laughter filled the air, you knew this was a night you both would remember—one full of warmth, connection, and perhaps a bit of sweet spontaneity.

You turned toward him and didn't have to wait long for the boy to attach his lips to yours. He didn't give a damn that all his immediate family and friends were around. He knew very well that he was in a trusted circle and no one would judge him or put anything on the Internet. He felt safe here, and with you in his arms, it was even better.

Drew pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admitted, a playful grin on his lips. There was a light in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

Your kiss became more and more intense, but no one paid much attention to you. And even if they did - they didn't expect how great the feeling was growing in both of you. Suddenly you felt his hands on your buttocks as they gently clamped down on them, and you laughed, moving your lips slightly away from his to look into his eyes. This time there was something more intense in his gaze than usual. You knew that you both felt the same way.

His breath was slightly labored from the kiss, and his grip on your buttocks became firmer as he pulled you even closer so that you were practically flush against his body.

There was a hint of hunger in his gaze, a need for more than just a kiss.

“I want to go home,” he murmured into your mouth, smacking it again. “They won't even notice.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. “What about all the fun?”

Drew grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just want us to end this evening.”

The way he looked at you, filled with that intensity you both had shared all night, made your heart race. “Alright, let’s do it,” you said, a thrill of anticipation bubbling inside you.

You did not wait any longer, you both knew very well how the evening would end. You left the club unnoticed, leaving all your gifts behind. The club was closed tomorrow anyway, so you could easily return for them. You waited a while for your boyfriend, who struggled for a while to find your coats, but fortunately it didn't take long. Drew grabbed your hand and you went outside, immediately seeing your driver.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispered, making your pulse quicken. You exchanged a look filled with promise, knowing that this night was just beginning.

~~~ When you arrived at his apartment, you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Drew had barely closed the door behind him, and he already had you in his arms and was leading you toward his bedroom, showering you with kisses all over your face. You were both laughing, which was typical of you, even at a time like this.

Drew gently laid you down on his bed, letting you take another moment to think about whether you really wanted this. Oh, how much you wanted it, and you knew very well that he did too. This was a big step in your relationship, but you knew you were safe in his hands and merely nodded, reaching up to his shirt collar to pull him close, bringing your lips together again in a kiss.

Your hands wandered in his hair, his all over your body. It wasn't long until you felt yourself starting to get wet from the rush of these emotions. You didn't shy away one bit anymore - you were well aware that your first time would be after alcohol, but you didn't doubt one bit that you wanted it. And so did Drew, whose eyes sparkled more beautifully than ever.

Drew’s touch was skilled and urgent, his hands roaming across your body as he drank in your every move. You could see the desire burning in his eyes, as he gently pushed you back down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Fuck" he muttered, breathing heavy. "You're so beautiful"

You sighed, pulling him closer to you with your hips. You could feel that he was also already aroused. His still clothed cock fit perfectly against your body. You both silently cried out for the desired pleasure to come already.

He leaned down slightly, his lips trailing over your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin. He left a trail of kisses along your throat, his breath coming out in a warm plume against your skin.

"You feel so good," he said, his voice thick with growing need.

“Drew,” you muttered, moving your hips, feeling how hard he was getting with each passing second. You pulled away from him slightly and nimbly made him bottom out this time. You didn't wait a second longer. With trembling hands, you grabbed his belt buckle and tried to get him off. “Oh, someone is impatient,” the man laughed huskingly, helping you get rid of his belt.

Then his pants flew down and you could see his entire member, which was already standing in his boxers. This sight was bloody painful. You moved your finger over it, which made Drew moan, dropping his head onto his soft mattress. “Baby,” he muttered, looking at you with slightly closed eyes as you removed his boxers and his cock came free.

He was huge. You had seen him in passing before, but this was your first time. And you had never been so excited in your life as you were now.

You took him in your hand and ran your thumb over his pre-cum. Damn, it was such an arousing sight. You quickly replaced your hand with your mouth, taking him all the way into your mouth. He could barely fit inside them, but you wanted to be the best for him. You sucked on him, moving your head up and down, slightly causing yourself a gag reflex. You both giggled, however, you did not stop. You saw that Drew was getting closer and closer with every move you made, so you added your hand and squeezed his testicles. You could have sworn that this made him even closer.

“[Y.N], fuck,” he muttered, stroking your hair. Drew didn't take the initiative at all, giving you full control.

You felt his penis begin to pulsate in your mouth, so you sped up your movements even more. You took him deeper, licking and supporting yourself with your hand. Soon, with a loud exhale, Drew reached inside your mouth, and your throat was flooded with his cum.

It didn't occur to you to do this before, but now you swallowed it all with full confidence, moving your mouth up and down for a while more, helping him come down from his orgasm.

“You're wonderful,” he muttered, pulling you against him. You sat on his naked lap, connecting your lips at once. Drew could feel himself on your tongue, but it didn't bother him at all.

He quickly threw off your dress and attached his lips to your neck. You felt that dark marks would appear in these places the next day, but you didn't give a damn. You wanted the whole world to know that you loved each other. That you loved each other in this way. That you were all his and he was all yours.

Without warning, Drew pressed his lips to your one breast, squeezing the other. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, making you even wet your entire thong, which you were wearing at the time. With an audible smack, he moved to the other nipple, leaving hickeys around it.

“Drew, I need you, I'm begging,” you muttered, pushing him away from your chest. You were as wet as you had ever been, and the man's hungry panting increased that even more. Your words were like a command to him. He immediately changed your position, so that now you were lying under him on the mattress and waiting for him to finally be inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he muttered, placing kisses all over your belly, then your thighs, until he kissed your still covered clit.

You allowed him to slip off your panties and the sensation you felt when his mouth attached to your pussy was indescribable.

“How beautiful,” he muttered, curling eights with his tongue around your sensitive bud. “How wet.”

"Drew, stop teasing," I muttered, shrinking your feet behind his back.

He knew what he was doing with his tongue. He perfectly pressed, sucked and teased your clit, driving you closer to the end with each passing second. Without much warning, he put his finger inside your pussy and began to move it nimbly, hitting that point. "Fuck," you moaned, touching his hair. The boy looked at you, not stopping to caress it with his tongue and finger, then added another, stretching you accordingly.

“Please,” you muttered, feeling that you were close to orgasm. “Drew.”

The boy sped up his movements, pressing more with his tongue against your clit, which was already sensitive enough. You felt a pleasant sense of fulfillment as you reached on his fingers and tongue. “How fucking good you taste,” he muttered, returning kisses to you. You surrounded his neck with your arms, kissing him imprecisely. You threw your legs around his hips, moving your naked pussy along his length, wanting him to enter you already.

“There, wait, baby,” he said, smacking you on the corner of your mouth, ”Do you have condoms?”

You shook your head negatively, but at that moment you didn't give a damn. All you wanted was him inside me, just that. “It's okay, I'll take the morning-after pill,” you muttered, moving your hips, begging him for one thing.

“All right,” he groaned and grabbed his length. He touched you with his tip and you trembled because of it. You relaxed slightly, letting him enter your pussy. “How tight” he muttered, entering you slowly with his entire length. “Perfect.”

Drew moved inside you slowly at first, but seeing that it was only giving you pleasure, he sped up. You both looked at the spot where your bodies joined and smiled at each other. Oh, you have been waiting for this apparently for a very long time.

By how horny you were tonight and how much you were looking forward to it, it didn't have to be long until you both felt you were getting close to fulfillment.

You bucked your hips closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible and to feel him as much inside you as possible. Drew grabbed your hips and instinctively started moving even faster and hitting your sensitive spot each time.

“You're wonderful,” you muttered, combing through his slightly wet hair.

The boy only smiled at you and clung to you with his lips, breathing loudly. And with that moment you both came. You a moment earlier than he did. But when you felt his cum spilling inside your cunt and suddenly it was pleasantly warm there, you moaned.

When it was over, Drew slumped against you, tired but smiling like never before. You also smiled broadly, hugging him to your chest. He was still inside you and you could feel him slowly stop being hard, but it felt too good to end it. “I love you,” he muttered, placing a kiss on your sternum, between your breasts.

“I love you too, terribly,” you muttered, combing his hair from his forehead.

You kissed him in the same place, momentarily holding your lips there. “Happy birthday, sunshine.” The boy lifted his head slightly from your body and kissed you on the lips. “I couldn't think of a better birthday.”

A/N: I know! I know there was supposed to be another chapter, but with Drew turning 31 today, I couldn't resist writing something related to him ;p hope you liked it and that I didn't make any mistakes (there may be a change of narration somewhere, because at the beginning I wrote it in the first person ahahh)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[ylangelegy]

watch and learn ♾️ minghao x reader.

“show, don't tell.” # day four of (the)8 days of minghao.

☆ includes: mature content, mdni. alternate universe: non-idol, art student!minghao, f!reader, best friends & roommates, pet name (‘pretty’), cussing, nude modeling/drawing, fingering, implied oral [m receiving]. word count: >4,000

It takes you all of five minutes to figure out why your best friend-slash-roommate looks like the world has crashed down on him.

The answer comes in the form of a piece of art on the coffee table. You crane your neck to check the bright red mark on Minghao’s latest homework. “A grade of ‘B’ isn’t so bad,” you offer, even though you can already see how he’s going to react from a mile away. 

Sure enough, he shoots you a sidelong glare that would be withering if you hadn’t been on the receiving end of it for years.

“That’s what the ‘B’ stands for,” he deadpans. “Bad.” 

You’ve long since reconciled with Minghao’s tendencies when it came to his academics and his art. With a half roll of your eyes, you settle down onto the couch next to him. The offending assignment stares up at you. 

“It’s not bad,” you say as you eye the piece. In your honest opinion, it really isn’t terrible. A part of you must admit, though, that it’s not really up to Minghao’s usual standard. The strokes are not as defined; the edges are a little rough. 

What’s supposed to be a piece for his The Art of the Human Form class looks more like something akin to abstract impressionism. 

Minghao lets out a low sound of displeasure at your feedback. “You don’t understand,” he says frustratedly. 

When you don’t immediately respond, he runs a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he sighs. “I just— I really need to pass this class.” 

You give him a reassuring pat on his knee. For a moment, the two of you just sit on the couch, staring down at the homework that’s brought him so much grief. “What’s your issue with the class, anyway?” you ask after a long moment of silence. “Is it the professor?” 

“No, the professor’s good. Great, even.” 

“Your material?” 

“That’s never been the problem.” 

“Well, what is it then?”

A groan slides past Minghao’s lips; he lets his head fall on to the back of the couch. You turn to glance at him and you see the way his face is contorted with defeat. The words he speaks next sound like they were an actual struggle for him to verbalize.

“I’m not good with live models,” he admits. A beat. He seems to realize that you’ll see right through him, so he adds, “Nude live models.” 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip. Minghao catches the telltale sign of you holding back your laughter and he turns to glance at you again. “What?” he grumbles.

“You’re too… polite, Hao,” you say delicately, leaning back against the couch until your shoulders are pressed against each other. 

“You think I’m a prude.” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You were thinking it. ‘Polite’ was just your way of letting me down gently.” 

This time, you don’t hold back the fond giggle that escapes you. It was no secret that Minghao was a bit of a prig. When asked about his lack of experience with dating or intimacy, his answer had always been the same: Too busy. Too busy with uni to fuck around and find out, to mess with people he didn’t really care about. 

Some of Minghao’s annoyance seems to ebb at the sound of your laughter. He gives a slight shake of his head like he’s ridding himself of an unbidden thought before saying, “Maybe I should just drop the damn class.” 

You nudge him in the side with your elbow. “You’ve never given up on anything in your life,” you chide. “Don’t start now.” 

The platitude does very little to lift Minghao’s mood. He goes into a rapid-fire tangent about his gripes with the class, ranting about everything from the models to his coursemates. You zone out a bit— knowing it was sometimes for the best to let your best friend go on and on— until you feel the buzz of your phone in your pocket. 

Right. You had a study session. 

You try to extricate yourself from the conversation by cutting through Minghao’s tirade with an absentminded, “Well, if you ever need my help, you know where to find me.” 

That shuts him up. 

“Wha— what?” he stammers. 

Both of you fall into a terse moment of silence. It’s like you’ve just realized what you said, what you’ve implied, and you mentally curse yourself for spacing out to the point that you’ve suggested something so out of left field. 

You rise from the couch without glancing down at Minghao; a part of you thinks this might give you some more courage to double down, to feign nonchalance. “If you need any help with the class,” you say as breezily as you can manage. “Like, if you need somebody to model for you or something.” 

There’s an almost distressed way to how Minghao says your name, then. “I’m supposed to work with nude models,” he repeats, like he’s not unsure you caught it the first time. 

“I’m aware.” 

“Are you—” 

“Only if you need it, Hao. It’s not that deep.” 

It is kind of that deep, honestly. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of its chest, but you do your damndest to keep your expression neutral as you go to grab your things. You’ve never been so grateful to have a valid excuse to cut your time short with your roommate. 

“If it’ll help you stop complaining,” you joke in a bid to inject some levity in the conversation. “Then I’m all for it.” 

He only lets out a disgruntled mumble in response. His words are incoherent, lost in the way you’re already halfway out the door. 

You call out your usual goodbye. “Text me what you want for dinner.” 

His typical response— “Take care”— hits just as the front door closes behind you. You might’ve imagined it, you think, but Minghao’s voice sounded just a little bit strained around the two words. 

It takes Minghao two weeks to come to a decision. 

Clearing his mind helped, but it’s really the most recent graded assignment that gets underneath his skin. A ‘C’. Minghao has never gotten a ‘C’ in all of his years of art school.

You’re working on something by the dining table when Minghao bursts into your shared apartment. 

“Does the offer still stand?” he spits out before he can change his mind. 

“Hm?” You glance up at Minghao, unsuspecting as ever. “What, getting pizza for dinner? I mean, yeah.” 

Your nightly text exchanges about what to have for dinner is the last thing on his mind. He takes a fortifying breath, his fingers clutching tightly around the strap of his messenger bag. 

“Not dinner,” he grits out. “The other offer.” 

Good Lord, he thinks with despair as you stare up at him skeptically. I’m really going to have to spell this out. 

He decides to go for the ‘show, don’t tell’ route. He fishes through his bag until his fingers snag his latest graded homework. Wordlessly, he crosses the room and sets it down next to your laptop. 

Your expression of confusion gives way to one of something that resembles sympathy. “Oh, Hao,” you say, and the words grate in his ears.

“I don’t need your pity.” His sharp words are dulled by the way he’s raised his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose in a gesture of sheer exhaustion. “I just need to practice.” 

The realization of your flippant offer being taken seriously seems to dawn on you. Minghao wants to die then and there. He’s already backtracking, attempting to take it back before you can say a word. 

“Forget it,” he says. He can only hope his ears don’t look as red as they feel. “That was stupid.” 

Your hasty call of “no, no” has him freezing. “Sorry, I just— wasn’t expecting it tonight,” you say. 

Minghao can’t even look you in the eye without wanting to die of shame. You go on, your voice cautious as ever. “The offer still stands. Of course it still stands.” 

He attempts to sputter out some words about you not having to do this, about not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re already getting to your feet. “Don’t make this weird,” you reprimand him. 

“But this is weird,” he protests weakly.

“I’m your roommate. I’m your best friend!”

“That’s precisely why this is weird.” 

You’re standing in front of him, now, trying to rearrange your expression into one of sternness. It doesn’t really do much, considering the way you’re at least a head shorter than him. 

“I’m the best shot you’ve got.” You plant your hands on your sides and tilt your chin up. There’s a hint of a challenge in your gaze. “So what’ll it be, Xu?” 

“No need to pull out the surname,” he says dryly. After going through a single, quiet prayer in his head, he jerks his head towards the living room. “Let’s go at it, then.” 

“Now?” 

“When else?” 

It’s your turn to blush this time. Minghao tries his darndest to keep a straight face as you stumble over your complaint. “I haven’t showered yet—” 

“That’s nothing new to me,” he shoots back, earning him a swat to the chest. He rubs at the spot you hit before grumbling, “Fine, fine. How long do you need to get ready?” 

“I’ll be quick,” you promise him as you dart off to the bathroom. Minghao resists the urge to say that he doubts it. 

His worries aren’t unfounded. By the time you emerge from your ‘quick’ shower, over half an hour has passed. He’s doodling absentmindedly in his sketchbook when he hears the door creak open. 

“About goddamn—” The last word catches in his throat as he turns to face you. 

Minghao has seen you in various states of undress in your years of friendship. He’s seen you in the skimpiest outfits before heading out clubbing, seen you in sinful bikinis during your yearly beach trips. But this? The sight of you in a beige bathrobe with the belt left untied, revealing a hint of your bare front? 

He clutches his pencil so tightly that he’s scared it’ll snap. 

“About time,” he manages, even though he’s not entirely clear what he’s referring to.

It takes an hour for you to regret your offer. 

Once the initial shyness had passed, all that was left was the restlessness. Minghao had put one of the dining room chairs in the living room for you to pose on, and you’ve spent the better half of the past sixty minutes just sitting there with your feet flat to the ground.

It’s surprisingly easy to comply with Minghao’s mumbled requests. Shift a little to the left. Move your hand to your thigh. Stop moving. 

The last command is muttered with a lot more frequency. When you try to cross your legs. Stop moving. When you go to scratch your elbow. Stop moving. When your eyes wander over to some nondescript point in the room. Stop moving. 

“You’re brutal,” you rumble after his nth ‘stop moving, please’. “This is inhumane.” 

“You signed up for this,” Minghao answers, his gaze briefly flitting over his sketchbook before going back to his work.

There’s something undeniably attractive about the way Minghao’s fingers are clutching his graphite pencil. A lot about him was attractive— the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the purse of his plump lips as he worked. But his fingers were a whole other monster all together. Long and lithe, with the nails painted to whatever he thought matched his flavor for the week. You can almost imagine what those fingers would look like in your—

Minghao drags you out of your unbidden daydream with a call of your name.

“Could you tilt a bit to your right?” he says gruffly. You scramble to comply, almost like you’re terrified he might have heard your thoughts if you didn’t move fast enough.

He lets out a small ‘tch’ of disapproval at just how much you twist. “Not like that,” he protests, putting his pencil down for the first time in the past hour. “Only about an inch. No, no—” 

“Pose me, then.” 

Where did this brazenness come from? You think that your tenseness is partly to blame, but there’s also an undercut of provocation in your tone. Surprise flits across Minghao’s expression for only a moment. 

He schools his expression into something more neutral as he places his sketchbook face down on the couch. This is a bad idea, you think, as he crosses the distance between you in small, measured steps.

It’s a bad idea, you muse, because if he touches you, he might just feel the rapid thump, thump, thump of your pulse. 

If he does notice, he makes no indication of it. His gaze is perfectly cool as he gently holds your shoulders. You can see the pencil marks on the side of his palm, the smudges of graphite transferring to your otherwise unblemished skin. 

Minghao does as you’ve asked. His pushes are light as he maneuvers you to angle yourself some certain way, and you swear there’s not a single breath of oxygen in the room. 

“There,” he’s saying as he goes to take a step back. 

Something akin to panic rises like bile in your throat. You don’t know why, you don’t know what has possessed you, but one of your hands shoots out for Minghao’s retreating form. He pauses when your fingers wrap around his wrist.  

“Where—” The words escaping you are almost a gasp. “Where do you want my hands?” 

Minghao looks down at you, his eyes imperceptibly wider now despite his attempt to keep calm. “Right where you had them,” he replies. 

You swallow around the lump in your throat, your hand sliding down to clasp his instead. “I— forgot where they were,” you say. It’s a lame excuse, but Minghao doesn’t seem like he’s about to call you out on it. “Show me again?” 

His hand is limp in your hold. For a long, terrible minute, you think you’ve overstepped. 

Then, something in Minghao’s jaw twitches. The hand that’s holding yours pushes your arm, just enough for your elbow to rest on the back of your chair.

He goes to position your other hand right over your upper thigh. Near where you want it, where you need it, but not quite there. 

Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you bite back a groan of frustration. Minghao catches the look on your face.

“Why?” he asks quietly, his voice a touch tight. “Uncomfortable?” 

“No.” You freeze at how your response comes out almost like a whine. Minghao freezes, too. 

You try to think of propriety and professionalism. You try to think of your years-long friendship with Minghao; of how awkward it would be to keep being roommates if you’ve somehow overread into this situation. 

All that goes out the window as you shift your hand slightly upward. His hand— the one still on top of yours— follows as your fingertips brush over your core. Your tone is shaky as you prompt, “It would be better here, no?” 

Minghao’s gaze snaps from your hand near the apex of your thighs, to the barely-concealed heat burning over your cheeks. His sharp features are perfectly controlled but there are the smallest signs spurring you on. His dilated pupils, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“You want it here?” He isn’t moving his hands. He also isn’t moving away. He looms over you, one hand holding your upper arm; the other, still close to your center. 

“I’m open to suggestions,” you say, your eyes roaming over his face for any signs of discomfort. 

A beat. And then—

Torturously slow, Minghao begins to move. He guides your hand closer to your heat until your fingertips are pressing a little more firmly against your entrance, where wetness is already beginning to pool. You clench around the feeling of nothing as Minghao remains careful about not letting his own fingers touch you just yet.

“I think this is good.” His voice is lower now. “What do you say?” 

You feel like your entire body will betray you if you try to say anything. For now, you opt to only give a jerky shake of your head. 

“No?” A corner of Minghao’s lip twitches upward in the ghost of a smile. You cling to that familiar grin as he pushes your hand up just a little more, just enough to have the tip of your middle finger pressing into your entrance. At this point, he’s moved his own fingers to wrap around your wrist. 

“Not enough?” he coos, even though he doesn’t look like he’s faring any better himself in the department of restraint. “What about here, then?” 

Minghao tugs at your wrist until your middle finger is sliding right into your slick. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. You feel your hand twitch, but Minghao only tightens his hold around your wrist. 

“I need you to answer me,” he mumbles, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s keeping you from moving your finger any further, and something about his demeanor tells you that it would be a bad idea to use your free hand to regain some control. Not when he was looking at you like this. 

“More,” you croak out. 

Minghao’s tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip. “More,” he repeats, his own voice equally broken. He finally breaks his gaze to look down at the way your finger is buried inside you, at how your hand is completely his to move. “Alright, then.” 

Wordlessly, he guides you into pulling your finger out and then easing it back in. This time, his focus is entirely on the way you swallow up your finger with each shallow thrust; how his own movements are dictating your pace, your pleasure. 

You writhe in the chair, feeling absolutely mortified at how quickly you can feel heat building in your stomach. It’s been simmering for the past hour; this was only leading you to the tipping point. And Minghao isn’t even touching you yet at this point, just helping you get off. 

“Hao,” you exhale, your breath warm against his face. He finally looks back up at you and you can see all of his want on his expression, clear his day. “Hao, I need—” 

Him. You need him. That’s what you mean to say. 

But your best friend seems determined to drag this out for all its worth. 

“You need to stop moving,” he murmurs as he deftly pries your index finger free from its curl. “I don’t think I’ve said that enough.” 

This time, he helps you push two fingers into your heat.

Your head lolls back and your lips part in a silent gasp. Minghao seizes the opportunity of more skin being bared to him. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your jawline, then to your collarbone. All the while, he keeps driving your own fingers into you.

It feels like a special kind of purgatory.

“Please, Hao,” you plead. 

“Words,” he mumbles against our skin, rewarding— or punishing— you with a particularly sharp thrust of your two fingers. You fold in half at the sensation, only managing to still sit somewhat upright by virtue of Minghao’s other hand holding your back up against the chair. “Use your words, pretty.” 

You bury your face in the crook of his neck. There’s a wretched quality to your voice as you pant, “Need you, please. Need your fingers instead.” 

“And why’s that?” 

“‘Cause—” You clench around your fingers; he feels your body tense underneath him. Both of you let out small sounds of pleasure at the reactions. “Your fingers are better, they’re— they’ll get me there faster— please, oh—” 

Your incoherent babbling seems to amuse and appease Minghao, enough for him to give in. 

He pulls your two fingers out and, before you can whine about the loss, he replaces them with two of his. They’re as brutally precise as you’d imagined them to be. Your knees almost close in an attempt to tide the pleasure that’s about to crash down, but Minghao holds your thighs apart with his other hand. 

“Don’t.” His voice is strained with effort. “Wanna see you. Please?” 

It’s the tacked on please that bowls you over, that has you nodding helplessly. You’d do anything Minghao asked if he asked in that tone. 

The squelches of his two fingers thrusting into you are obscene, but not quite as filthy as the sounds that slide past your panting lips. You moan and whimper and whine, and each little noise only seems to have Minghao moving with renewed vigor. He’s pulled away from your neck to watch you, but his eyes keep darting from your microexpressions to the way his fingers are swallowed up by your velvet heat. It’s like he can’t decide where to look first. 

“You’re a work of art,” he chokes out, his teeth grinding together as he focuses on your face. “So goddamn beautiful— sitting here all nice and pretty for me.” 

One of your hands fly to his hip in a desperate bid to hold onto something, to anything of him.

“Gonna finish,” you sob as you force your eyes open to meet his. Inadvertently, you cant your hips upward to meet one of his sharper thrusts, and the friction has the two of you moaning a little more. “Hao, fuck, can I—?” 

“Please,” he pants. “I need it. I need it so, so bad—” 

You climax with a silent scream, a sound that’s muffled as you lurch forward and press your face back into his neck. His other hand holds the back of your head in a supportive gesture as you come undone, coating his two digits in your slick. 

Minghao lets out a low cuss as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re so beautiful,” he says dazedly, sliding his fingers out of you carefully. “How are you so beautiful?” 

All you can manage is a shaky laugh as you come down from your high. As you keep your head pressed against Minghao, you catch sight of the tent in his sweatpants. Tentatively, you reach up one hand to cup him over the fabric. 

He says your name like it had been punched out of him. “Hey—” he tries to say in warning, but his body betrays him by bucking into your hand. 

“How long has that been there?” Your voice trembles, thick with a heady mix of exhaustion and desire. 

Minghao’s gruff response comes as your fingers twitch around the outline of him. “Since you stepped out of the damn shower,” he admits lowly.  

You let out a contemplative hum. There’s still a low ringing in your ears, a slight buzz in your brain from the last vestiges of your orgasm, but it can’t just be you who’s having all the fun. 

You shift back a bit so you can meet his gaze. You’re torturously slow as you palm his aching hardness, and you revel in the way Minghao reacts above you. His eyes have all but rolled into the back of his head and breathless little gasps are rising from the back of his throat.

“You’ve posed my hands,” you say, trying— and failing— to keep your tone even. “Wanna show me where my mouth should be, Hao?” 

His fingers tighten at the strands of your hair. He lets out just one more cuss before he’s using his other hand— the one still coated with your release— to pull down his bottoms. 

“Watch and fuckin’ learn, pretty,” he breathes, and you have a good feeling that he’ll make good on the threat.       

(Minghao gets an ‘A’ on his next assignment.)

[bunnys-kisses]

the dnf club (vol. 3)

alex albon

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, gentle sex, praise (kink), missionary, established relationship, affection & laughter, large chested!reader

a/n: another edition of the dnf club. i can't believe there were five dnfs at the brazil gp! as a result, i present to you the dnf club!

carlos edition // franco edition // lance edition (11/5) // nico edition (11/5)

"alex!" you chirped as you wrapped your arms around your lover. a terrible day on the track couldn't be solved without a few kisses. you leaned over him as you gave him a kiss on the cheek, "you'll get 'em next time."

he smiled a little at your affection towards him. you always tried to see the best side of things. always told him that one race is one race, and that there are far too many to worry about one dnf. but, the season was winding down.

"i know, love. just a little beaten down by it."

back in the motor home for the team, you knew that you had some time before you had to pack up for the weekend. franco would be returning soon and he too was already brow beaten from his own dnf.

you didn't want to rub it in with the sound of the bed's headboard rocking against the wall. franco got to mope alone while alex at least could smother himself in your soft skin.

and alex did just that. you stripped of your clothes and got into bed with him. he was down to his briefs as he laid on top of you, mindful of the weight on you. and rested his face between your breasts. the strong emotions melted away as soon as your played with his dark hair.

"honey." he groaned as he shifted a little. you kissed the top of his head and he shuddered.

"i love you so much. i'm still proud of you for giving it your all today. you did good." you praised him and alex's cock twitched in his briefs. you tilted his face up to look at you and you went for a heated kiss. he groaned against the kiss and you smiled against his lips.

it was true, you were quite proud of your lover. your partner. your boyfriend. you could never drive a formula one car, so for him to do it week after week was amazing. his ability to think of the fly, be in total control of vehicle while surrounded by other vehicle going at insane speeds was something to admire.

"i'm just happy your safe. it's a lot easier to fix a car than it would be to fix you if you got hurt." you patted his cheek lovingly.

he replied softly, "of course, i have to come home to you after every race." he kissed the valley of your breasts soon after and moved away. he looked down at you as he braced his hands on either side of you.

you smiled up at him, then pulled him down a little to give him a soft, tender kiss. when he broke it, you yelped as he took you by the hips and leaned your bottom half up against him. your slick pussy across the front of his dark briefs, leaving a little wetness on the fabric.

you splayed your hands across his chest. your nails painted the same colour as the williams team colours. you even had alex's number painted on your thumb. you smiled up at him lovingly and said, "good, you better come home to me." then broke into a wife grin, "because you know i'll change the locks."

he chuckled a little, "oh i know." he leaned in to kiss you before he rested on his knees and worked to get his briefs too. once he was nude, he added, "sometimes i'd rather be at home with you then on the track."

you blushed and adverted your gaze for a moment, "you flirt." you knew you were special to alex, he adored you. you weren't just lovers but also friends, each other's support through everything.

he replied, "only for you. i love seeing you embarrassed when i give you compliments." he leaned forward and rubbed his cock up against your slick entrance with one hand on your thigh, "you look adorable when i make you squirm." then sank his cock into you. you tensed up for a moment before you were able to relax a little, letting him slip into you.

"fuck, alex." you shuddered, "you feel like heaven." you smiled a little and he leaned down to kiss you. you two had been together for long enough, you knew each other's bodies painfully well. how to make each other feel good. alex was a generous lover, he always wanted to make you feel good.

but after a rough day at the track, you wanted to make sure he felt good. that you could help heal the wound of a dnf. that you could restore a little bit of his confidence.

"my darling man." you giggled, "my everything." you said with a soft love in your tone. alex just leaned closer, hands on either side of you once more as he moved against you. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him move against him. you licked your lips a little, the taste of your lips gloss. you noticed the gooey gloss across alex's lips.

he looked cute in bubblegum flavor.

"you're beautiful." he said as he moved against you. his pace wasn't particularly rough. he rocked against you and he gave you a soft smile. there was something about you that turned him on greatly. not just you beautiful looks, but also how sweet you were. your kindness knew no bounds, you seemed to light up every room you were in. he could still remember when you found a stray dog near your apartment and chased it down. you then sat with it outside all afternoon, even getting a sunburn, until the owner was found.

you were his friend, his lover, his girlfriend. hell, his future wife (he knew you'd die if he called you that). even at alex's worse, he still was confident that you loved him. and he in turn loved you, a deep kind of love. a steady foundation for a life to built on top of. and even with the immense chaos of formula one, you always had one another.

he went in for another kiss and continued to move against you. he gripped onto the covers under you. he moaned into the kiss and you smiled against his lips. you pulled away and said, "you're amazing. if they had a trophy for the best boyfriend in the world. you'd be the record holder for it."

he chuckled, "i wish that was an award as well. but, i'm afraid if they had one for best girlfriend, it would be unfair to every other woman on the planet." his voice warmed your soul, his words made you giggle and before you could cover your face in embarrassment. he took you by the hands and pinned them to the soft bed under you, "don't hide yourself from me." he continued to move against you.

you moaned, "i'm supposed to be the one praising you. not the world way around." you back arched a little bit from the movements. you felt the leap in your chest as the pace moved a little faster.

"you've already done enough. every day you do more than enough for me." he captured your lips once more. you moaned against his lips and felt his warmth around you. you felt safe in his touch, how could you not? he loved you down to the very fibre of your soul.

you held his hands as he moved against you. when the kiss broke, you smiled at him. you could see the warmth in his smile. you giggled a little, "you're something else, alex."

"that's good because you're something else as well." he felt the curl of pleasure in his gut as he continued to move against you. even with such a bad weekend and the inability to race. he knew at the very least he could be by your side. kiss you as much as he liked.

the bed shifted a little as his pace increased.

"that smile of yours." he groaned, "lights up my life."

you clutched his hands tighter, "and what about mister albon? i see how you smile in front of the cameras versus when it's just us. you're charming with the press. but, you beyond amazing when it's just us." you tightened your legs around his waist and he shifted his position to get a better angle with you.

"of course i am." he said as he kissed the side of your jaw, "how could i not? you just bring something out in me. even when the races go bad or the car breaks. i know seeing you will just light me up right again. i have to be a certain way with the press. but with you, i can just be me." you pouted a little at his sweet comment and he kissed you on the lips once more. the kiss was feverish as the two of you felt closer to your orgasms.

"don't pout, my love. i'm only telling the truth." and you felt the race of pleasure through your body.

you held onto his hands tightly as he moved against you. your tensed up quickly as you came around his cock. the heat of pleasure bloomed in your gut. orgasm crashed over you and you felt amazing. alex went in for a heated kiss and held onto your hands tightly, pressed them into the bed as he worked your pussy some as you orgasmed.

he hissed through his teeth as he soon finished as well. the rush of pleasure made him curse under his breath as he continued to work your achy cunt. he let go of your hands and you took him by the face to kiss him on the lips. soon he slowed to a stop and his face ended up back between your breasts as you both panted heavily.

"i love you so much." he said as he held you tightly.

you kissed the top of his head and played with his hair once more. you felt warm against him. comfortable with your love for one another. you whispered promises against his head.

"my amazing girlfriend. my amazing love." he held onto you tightly as he got comfortable. any anxiety or anger that lingered from the results of the race seemed to vanish.

there was always the next race, and that one he knew he'd be successful with. he knew he could dnf an entire season and he'd still go home to you. love you in every way he could. because you, in the simplest terms, were his everything <3

[genyawritesshizz]

Promotion - Sentinel Prime X Reader

Spending your days endlessly mining energon you yearned to one day be promoted. To finally free yourself from the frame aching work of the mines. Yet when you catch the optics of the Sentinel Prime, that promotion may come at a terrible cost, maybe you should have read the fine print.

Tbh it’s very little plot mostly just smut.

Written in bullet points, may go back to further flesh out in more detail but for now it will remain in this format

IVE NEVER WRITTEN FOR TRANSFORMERS NOR HAVE I READ MUCH FIC OF IT BUT I TRIED TO GET THE TERMS RIGHT BUT YA KNOW, ITS A LOT.

Possible part 2, we’ll see how this does.

WARNING: Dubious consent, emotional manipulation, Power Imbalance, (TBH Sentinel is a walking red flag), Sexual Coercion, Size kink, SMUT, Cybertronian reader,

This is essentially just robot porn I'm sorry to all my anime followers :(

The first time Sentinel Prime had set his optics on you he knew, much to his initial disgust, he wanted you. 

A miner. 

Of all the femme’s at his disposal the one that at last managed to catch his gaze was a cogless, bottom level, miner. 

“That thing?” With a snarled lip and multiple sets of trailing skeptical eyes, Airachnid's own revulsion was evident. Far down below the balcony on which they stood, walking the bustling city streets you at last returned to his hungry gaze. 

“Unfortunately so.”

Primus, what an honor it was to be within the presence of Cybertrons protector, the bot who single handedly protected all Cybertronians from the Quintessons; Sentinel Prime. 

After being approached by Arachnid and ordered to follow her you had initially feared you had broken an unknown protocol, resulting in a demotion. Yet much to your shock within the gold columned building you had been led to he was there.

The look of pure admiration within your optics as you stared up to him in awe coupled with the now quiet whir of your internal fans as your spark raced within his mere presence fed his already raging primal desire.

Such blind naivety.

"Walk with me. I’d like to discuss something important." His tone was warm but carried a weight of authority. One you could not help but blindly follow. 

The two of you stroll through the empty corridors, arachnid standing guard just outside of its entrance.

“Tell me, have you always felt bound to the mines? Or have you ever imagined something greater for yourself?" You shift, pace faltering a smidge, taken aback by his directness. You're proud of your work as a miner but can’t deny that you’ve thought about rising above this level.

"The mines are… Well, they’re home. I have my friends down there. But I’ve always wanted to do more…to make a real difference for Cybertron." 

Sentinel nods, his optics narrowing slightly. Searing blue scanned from the top of your dull paint chipped helm to your transfixed gaze, (noting how you subconsciously averted it away from him when noticing his search), down to your chin.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, signaling his satisfaction in finding whatever he had hunted for. 

Vulnerability suited you well.

"I could see that. You carry yourself with a strength that is rare, even among the most seasoned warriors." 

His confident stride deviates him closer to you and he lowers his voice just a touch. 

"Cybertron needs warriors with your spirit. And not just in the mines. In places where real change can be forged." 

His words spark something in you. Your gaze sharpened, instantly locking with his, the once thick humility gives way to a flicker of pride. 

‘Is he going to promote me?’ You hopefully thought. You had been working your frame down to the wire for the last few rotations in hopes of this.

Sentinel picks up the change in demeanor immediately. Before continuing his sweet talk, he comes to a complete stop and turns towards you.

His frame is significantly larger than yours, as to be expected when comparing a cogless to a Prime.

Though, the way he truly towered over you left you feeling far weaker than usual as he had to bend down significantly to reach optic level with you.

"Too often, talents like yours go overlooked down there. Others might not see it, but I do. Imagine if you were to rise up, to stand among those who shape Cybertron’s future. Those who ensure our planet’s place as the greatest in the galaxy." With each passing word he had leaned closer, faceplate now mere centimeters from yours.

Your spark fluttered. 

His venting flowed deliciously warm against your intake.

Proximity feedback signals fired on high and energon lines pumped furiously fast. 

Yet despite your system's shock at his actions, you could not look nor move away.

“You really think… I could be that?”

A set of servos planted themself around your lower chassis, their span long enough to completely wrap around you. 

Your servers struggled to process exactly what was happening, focusing solely on the swirling lights of blue that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I know you can.”

The digits ensnaring your waist tightened, pulling you flush against his wide frame. 

His helm delved lower, denta lightly nipping at the sensitive wires between the spaces of your minimal plating. 

The second you beeped in surprise then melted into his embrace, helm craning to the side allowing him further access, he knew once again. 

You were not going anywhere. 

But then again, why would you want to?

When your protector was so kind enough to show you, a nobody, such special affection. 

Never had you anticipated that you would ever find yourself within a Primes personal suite yet here you were. Sprawled out atop a luxurious berth, hidden away from the rest of Iacon city, with desires you had never even thought to dream of coming true.

Your gracious leader's frame was reduced to a hunched, yet still ever imposing, form as he kneels between your legs. Your modesty paneling had long since been retracted, revealing your array to his hungry gaze, and allowing you to relish in all the new sensations your Prime was bestowing upon you.

No, in all your cycles you had never found the desire to fragbond with someone. Yet now as Sentinel Prime’s silver glossa ravenously glides through the throbbing mesh of your valve and mouthpiece occasionally latching onto your external node you cannot believe your hesitancy for such pleasures. 

To think you had gone for so long without.

Not to worry, never again shall you ever have to suffer such a fate.

It is extremely out of character for Sentinel to give his partner's pleasure this way or in any way/to care about it. 

Normally he wastes no time in pleasuring others, he was a busy man after all. Instead focusing solely on his own release within others bodies then disposing of them.

But something about having you pinned beneath one of his arms, the other easily reaching over your head to hold your wrists down, the way you cried out for him, your Prime, and to be completely at his mercy…It has his spike twitching beneath his own paneling.

Savagely he feasts upon your now swollen valve, thick glossa entering your spasming opening, nose buried atop your external node.

“M-my, oh Primus! - My Prime I-” You were completely unfamiliar with the feeling boiling inside you, it felt as though a coil was winding. Each intrusion of his glossa only pulled it tighter.

“That’s right, say my name.” A smug smirk tugged itself into the corners of his faceplate before he delved back where you so desperately wanted him. 

You looked and sounded both pathetic and desperate.

He loved it.

“Sentinel!”

Overloading into the mouth of said mech was absolutely euphoric.

Though despite your high, he was left utterly displeased to hear you leave off the Prime in your cry.

He had earned that title.

It was his name.

You would learn the error of your mistake soon.

He did not ask permission to continue. 

Standing up from his crouched position, the grip that once held you down now flipped you onto your chest plate and dragged you towards the edge of his berth, allowing your legs to dangle off the edge.

Even on the tips your pedes you would still not touch the golden floor beneath.

Positioning your aft up into an arch he at last retracted his paneling, allowing his spike to spring free. 

Central processor still short circuiting under the throws of overloading, you did not even notice the shift in position.

Once your intake had returned to normal your mind followed suit, catching up to the reality of what was happening.

Yet it was too late to protest as something sickeningly thick prodded at your valve's still quivering entrance.

It felt like far too much.

Trying to squirm away from it you're met with a dark chuckle and thick digits atop your shoulder, easily pulling you back down into position.

“Where do you think you're going? We're just getting started sweetspark”

The moment the head of his spike entered, you felt an immediate sense of dread wash over and a cold shiver through your struts. 

“Too big...” Your vocalizer had barely returned, causing the whine to sound utterly pitiful, drowned in static and served only to feed Sentinel's ego.

“Hm? What's that?” Leaning over your form, faceplate centimeters away from your audio receptors, steam rolled with his words; fogging over the heaving metal of your shoulder plates.

“Frag…You-You’re too big.”

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” His tone was high in pitch and laced with manipulation. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Prime now would you?” 

A strangled whimper and a shake of your head ‘no’ gave little confirmation to his taunt in ‘permitting’ him to keep going, not that he cared whichever direction your response led. 

Even if you wanted to stop, you had no power to break away from him.

A deep, dominating, chuckle bubbled within his chest plate. “I thought not. You’re serving me, a great honor really.”

It felt like being pried open, the way his spike speared into your clamping valve was utterly painful. 

Despite your cries you attempted to stay still as the gold winged Prime behind you continued to push further. 

Each half centimeter only served to strengthen the burn.

Halfway in you had closed your optics, denta plates gritted tightly shut. 

“Take it all, I know you can.”

The same four words that once filled you with hope now filled you with burning heat.

You will take what he is so graciously giving you. 

Finally, after what felt like eternity, his entire spike was successfully sheathed inside. 

Though this was just the beginning.

“So tight,” Your body was clamped around the intruder in a vise grip. Desperately begging for it to be removed. “So small.”

His pace was brutally fast. The servos on your shoulder and hip kept you from escaping or sliding too far away from his attack. 

Surprisingly, after a few klicks, the tight inner calipers of your valve slowly loosened. His spike, now slathered in a combination of fluids, began sliding without much resistance. 

At last, a few surges of pleasure coursed through your system. 

Soon both of you were grunting, occasionally moaning. Though your sounds far outnumbered his. 

Your servos clenched into the smooth bedding atop his berth, surely tearing the fabric though in this moment neither of you cared. However it was something he would be sure to punish you for later. 

“You're mine, little miner.” His hips pistoned faster, slamming against your aft, surely to leave you sore. “All Mine.”

In response all you could do was hold on tighter, moaning louder with each intense slam.

“I’ll. never. let. you. go.” Each word sent another wicked surge into your swollen valve.

Blind sighted by the throes of pleasure bordering on overstimulation his words simply did not translate in your faltering audio receptors.

Though he meant every bit of it.

Helm falling back and a loud moan echoing throughout the gold-plated room, his overload blazed hot through his system. Filling your already stuffed valve to the brim with his transfluid.

Fans whirling on high, neither of you moved from your conjoined position for a few klicks.

After he's regained his senses fully, he removes himself from your valve, being sure to marvel at his work of completely ruining your once virgin body with a devilish smirk. Admiring the way his bright blue transfluid seeped from your still clenching valve.

Though this will be far from the last time he sees you like this.

With wobbling arms, you attempted to rise, though as you began to lift yourself up a large palm pushed you back down.

"We're not done."

True to his word, you had earned a promotion.

Fitted with only the finest armor paneling and a fresh coat of paint you had earned yourself the pristine position of his pet.  

A position you held with utmost dignity, after all you were serving your Prime.

[tmwcs]

PART ONE

Warnings: Nothing unusual to report…not yet. Just references from the last two fairy tales posted in Masterlist. This includes the teaser posted two days ago. If you’ve read the teaser, skip through until you see the red text. That’s where the additional part of the story continues.

“Young girl in the local area is the second to disappear without a trace. Authorities are on high alert and encourage all women to remain at home and avoid traveling alone.”

You click on the abrupt notification–the article details the two young women who vanished within the last six months. The first girl disappeared while traveling and visiting her grandmother’s house and another was on her way to a job interview at the local library, but never made it. The strange occurrences had everyone panicking and adhering to the extreme measures to avoid their daughters from being the next to abruptly disappear.

“Y/N, take the car and drop your sister off at her friend’s house.” your mother urges. Your younger sister was around the same age as the young girls who had disappeared, so it became understandable why her safety was paramount. Of course you weren’t excluded from concern, however, being that you were older and already on your way to finishing up your college education, it’s presumed that you were in the clear. At least that’s what the authorities stated in their public announcements.

“Take her, make sure you watch her enter the house before you drive off. Then come right back here, understand?” your mother’s strict orders were firm and left no room for argument. “Fine.” you answered quietly. Running errands and dropping off your younger sibling always came with the same warnings and specific instructions–nothing out of the ordinary.

The drive wasn’t terribly far–around twenty minutes. Sometimes you wonder why your family decided to reside in the suburbs–so far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been better had they considered moving closer? Considering that both your parents place of employment and your younger sister’s school, it would be so much more convenient had they found a neighborhood much closer.

“I feel so sorry for that girl–you know?”

Her voice interrupts your thoughts as you delicately come to a stop at the red light. “Are you talking about the one that just disappeared?”

“Yeah. She was so pretty too, just like the first one.” her voice was soft and tender, and just like those girls, your precious younger sibling couldn’t be excluded from the list of potential victims. No wonder your parents were always so concerned over her staying late for after school activities. With her traditional beauty and delicate frame, she was every kidnapper's dream.

Pulling up the driveway, you followed your mother’s instructions as ordered. Checking your phone, you send a text out to notify your parents that you both made it at the sleepover, when your sister's phone screen abruptly is placed in front of you, followed by a small giggle.

“What is that?” you sharply questioned, a slight annoyance accompanies your tone. “Isn’t it cute? I took it earlier today.”

Being the prankster that she was, it was no surprise that you became a pawn in your sister’s line of mischievous acts. “So uncool. Erase that.”

“Oh come on! I took it because you looked so pretty. You know, everyone always says the same thing–even in high school. Remember all those times you napped during the lunch hour? Everyone always said that you looked so pretty whenever you slept. Guess that’s why they always called you that name, huh?”

You let out a tiring sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” it was true–the nickname stuck with you even all through college when your friends carried the name over. They would always ask you in jest why you slept so often, and you wish you had an answer for them, but you never could come up with one. You don't know why–all your life you just felt so tired. Your pondering thoughts are interrupted once more when you hear your sister thanking you for the ride.

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty! Thanks for dropping me off! Love you!”

………

The twenty minute drive back seemed much longer than before. Perhaps you’re just tired—all the assignments and study sessions were probably getting to you. You pull up and notice the other car gone. Did your parents go out?

You walk in and took the precautionary measures to lock the door behind. A small note is left propped on the dinner table, addressed to you:

‘Y/N, dinner is in the oven. Your dad and I went out to see some old friends—we will be back later. Love, mom.’

Well, there are worse things than to have an entire house all to yourself. The peaceful and quiet atmosphere was a pleasant contrast from the cyclic ruckus you grew to block out. For once, it was nice to not walk around with headphones and enjoy the stale sound of silence. Yet, it would appear you spoke too soon—your phone rings. Noticing the number, you answer half heartedly “hey girl.”

Your best friend answers with a myriad of giggles and knavery tone. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We have a few transfer students that came in and all of them are going to be at Jess’s party tonight. You coming?”

You sigh. “No, don’t think I will. I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired!” Your best friend berates in disappointment. “Come on! At least look at the photo I just sent! They’re gorgeous!”

You spare a half glance at the photo and saw a group of young men posing for a photo. “I can’t—I still have to finish some things and I really am so tired.”

“Fine! You’re no fun but I still love you.” She giggles as she bids you goodbye. The last bit of her words replayed in echoes as you eeee taken back to a time in high school where she said the very same thing before…

‘…You’re no fun, but I still love you.’

You’re quite certain your friend recalls the events that occurred afterwards, when she left you at the theater after you denied her invitation to skip out on class and to attend a social gathering. You had rejected her offer and remained in the projection room to nap for an hour before your next class began. That was when you had the strangest dream. Remnants of that moment came back like pieces of a puzzle when you recalled that time —the dream was vivid and felt so real. A figure walking up and presenting a beautiful red rose—doing so delicately as to not wake you. It was as if you err watching a grainy film as you witnessed the happenings—from him laying the flower in your hand, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead. The strangest bit was when you awoke for your next class, a rose was within your grasp. Yet, the projection room remained locked from the inside, leaving no margin for entry to anyone from the outside. Yet, still…no matter how many times you brushed it off, each moment you come back to that memory it just made you feel like something…something was—

*ring ring*

Your phone rings and you view the screen. You didn’t recognize the number so you ignored the call. The caller didn’t leave a voice message either, probably a scam call. You’ve been getting a lot of them lately.

Other than the two phone calls, your night was rather peaceful. You ate a light dinner and figured it would be best to start your reading materials before it gets too late. Washing the dishes, you scrubbed your plate in soapy water. The surface read covered by foamy bubbles, leaving the bottom elusive. A sharp prick stings the tip of your index finger, causing you to quickly retract your hand from the depths of the warm water. “What the hell?!”

You run the faucet on and rinse the wound under the fluid motion of the lukewarm stream and notice a single red dot. You drained the sink and didn’t notice any broken glass or dishes—what did you poke your finger on?

As the last remnants of soap and bubble spiral down the drain, your eyes caught on to something foreign from the steel background. Was that a…

“…a thorn?”

Your mind was boggled by the existence of a single rose thorn inside the sink. Strange. You held the thorn in hand and studied it for a second before your phone rang once more. It was your mother.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I’m just checking in. Did you eat?”

“Yeah.”

You remain somewhat calm as you ponder about the thorn while hearing your mother rant about locking all the doors and windows. “Yeah, got it. Hey mom—“

You quickly catch her before she starts to say her goodbye. “Did you get roses or something?”

“Oh yes—for our friends. I went to the store and grabbed a small bouquet, why?”

You rolled your eyes out of relief and suddenly found the entire situation comical. “Nothing. I just saw a rose thorn in the sink.”

“Oh yes, I had rinsed them in the sink and put them in a vase. Be Careful when washing dishes.”

“Yeeeeah.” Your tone was sarcastic but she didn’t seem to catch on. Instead, she bid you farewell and you both hang up.

Placing the phone down, you felt a wave of fatigue hit you abruptly. Normally you felt tired and lethargic, but never have you felt extremely exhausted so suddenly. Your eyesight became dizzy—your body starts to feel weak. “What the hell…is…”

You couldn’t understand where this sudden sensation of fatigue came from. It’s as overwhelming and nearly took over your entire body—to the point where you found it hard to stand. It was as if you were punched by the sandman. You stumble your way up the stairs—leaning against the bannister on your way up.

Tired…so tired…too tired.

Marching up, you finally reached your bedroom and plopped yourself atop your bed. The mixture of cool and warm temperatures overwhelm you as the texture of the linen absorbs your body heat—the cotton fabric comforting you. Drifting off, you only lasted seconds upon laying down when everything suddenly goes to black.

So sleepy…

Taglist: @strxwbloody • @nshmrarki • @aquariushiiiii • @addictedtohobi • @nuriicata • @lilyuwon • @aanniikkaa •

[jhoneybees]

Your little Muse

Hello lovelies! Coming in with another fic🤭 This one might be a bit all over the place because my brain isn't cooperating with me at the moment but I hope you all like it!

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X artist!reader

Warnings/triggers: insecurities, nudity, angst, nude art

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @theelvisprincess @i-r-i-n-a-a @thelonelyheart @polksaladava @hooked-on-elvis

_____________________________________________

For the past few months, Elvis has been feeling extremely insecure. All the horrible thoughts swirling in his head about his appearance have been taking a big toll on him.

He rarely looks in the mirror, he never feels like dressing up anymore, just putting on tracksuits everyday and he's isolating himself in the bedroom for days on end so he doesn't have to face the newspaper headlines commenting on his growing waistline and he's also not seeing any of his good friends except you, his lover and that's making you terribly worried.

He hates it all and you know he hates it all, he’s told you that he hates himself even more because of it. You try your best to comfort him and help him take care of himself when he's sulking, feeling like a sack of potatoes but you've realised that it all doesn’t seem to last very long so one night you come up with an idea.

__

“H-Honey, I-I-I don’t know about this-” Elvis stutters nervously as he grips his robe, watching you move back and forth from one side of the bed to the other. Gulping when you turn around and smile.

“Come on, let’s take this off.”

You’ve come up with an idea of how you have this challenge for your art, drawing one thing that you love every single day for a whole month and for today’s thing you’re gonna draw is him. He’s been so hard on himself this week with his self esteem so you hope this might cheer him up.

Show him how beautiful he truly is.

Peeling his hands away from his chest, you carefully begin to unwrap his robe pushing it over his shoulders but he quickly stops you. Looking down at you, almost afraid. “N-No baby, I-I don’t know if w-we should do this…”

You give him a reassuring look, getting up onto your tippy toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Cupping his soft cheek with tenderness. “We should, darling.” smiling when you see his puppy eyes.

Slipping his robe off of his body, you let it fall to the floor and take a moment to admire his beauty. “Oh sweetie…” Carefully smoothing your palms up and down his arms as your eyes scan his naked body, frowning when you see him move his hands to cover himself. “There is no need to do that…”

Your eyebrows furrow looking up at him, carding your fingers through his hair as his eyes avert away from yours.

“This is a lot, Y/n.” He mumbles quietly and you nod in understanding.

“You’re already doing so well, baby…” cupping his left cheek again to bring his pretty blue eyes to face you again, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. “My little muse doesn’t need to hide anything.”

He starts to blush and you give him another kiss, making him suck in a breath. Growing courage in his body. “A-Alright…” Slowly pulling himself to climb onto the huge bed and grunting as he sits down in the middle of the massive pile of luxurious cushions. He looks down at himself and quickly rips his stare away, swallowing thickly. Turning his head to look at you as you move closer.

“Get yourself comfortable.” You tell him, softly. Leaning over onto the bed with a knee on the mattress, you guide his arms to rest on the cushions behind him, adjusting a few things here and there and positioning his cross necklace on his chest and fixing his hair, you pull back to observe the picture in front of you and your small grin slowly fades when he tries to cover himself. “Relax, baby…” Gently stopping him.

Elvis groans. Moving his arms back to where they were then you grab the light pink silk scarf from your nightstand and mindfully draping it over his thighs covering his most intimate parts, he sighs a little, bringing him a bit of comfort.

“Oh honey…” You coo with genuine love in your voice, admiring his beautiful body of how he just lays there.

His legs parted with one knee bent slightly, his arms looking soft and cuddly, his perfectly dishevelled hair on top of his head, his baby boy blue eyes watching yours shyly, his chestnut coloured hairs decorating his glorious chest with a bling of a gold cross and his delicious belly laying over your pink scarf.

You sigh, he really is a sight for sore eyes.

“Baby, d-do I really need ta be naked like this?”

Your eyes flick up to his insecure ones and respond with a hum. “Mhm, drawing something that I truly love…and that’s your handsome self, baby.” Picking up your sketchbook and adjusting your art pencil set as you sit down in the armchair you organised right at the foot of the bed. Rolling your stare down his body once more before getting yourself focused.

“...Don’t know what makes ya think that.” He grumbles.

Bringing your gaze up to him again, your eyebrows knit together. “Because I love you…”

“Hmm-”

“That’s what makes me think that.” You finish making him lock his baby blues to yours then shuffling around, you breathe through your nose and quietly lean onto the bed and grab his foot to place a kiss to the bridge. Making sure he knows that you meant every word.

__

After a while of reassuring Elvis and getting everything organised, you finally get to work. Flicking your focused stare up to specific parts of his body every now and then to get every detail right, you take your time.

You started around 9 PM and as time goes by, it feels like it’s almost morning.

You’re so proud of Elvis. He’s trying his best to stay still, despite how uncomfortable he is. You can see the discomfort on his handsome face.

He’s avoiding looking at his body at all times and the way his lips curl into a frown and his nostrils flare slightly makes your heart break.

He looks like he’s slowly losing himself in the darkness and you can’t let him sink in too deep so you quickly get up and pad over to the side of the bed to place a soft kiss to his temple making him lift his head.

Giving him a loving smile. “Hang in there, honey.”

He nods and his dissociated stare drifts back down to his toes. “Mhm…”

“I’m almost finished.” Placing another peck onto his lips as your finger goes under his chin. He doesn’t say anything and you hesitantly go back to your chair to carry on with your art.

__

As 2 AM comes around and you add a few finishing touches, you’re finally satisfied to say you’ve completed the drawing.

“It’s done.” You sigh, relieved.

Crawling onto the silky bed sheets towards Elvis and kneeling beside his thighs as you reach over and grab his robe from earlier and lay it over his legs and chest, he notices you holding your sketchbook in front of him and when he sees the picture on the white paper, your heart buzzes with warmth when he carefully takes the book from you.

Hesitantly tracing a finger beside the lines to not ruin the drawing and watching his chest start to shakily rise and fall, your soft smile falters hearing him suck in a weak breath.

“Baby?”

You angle your back to see his face and the sight of his eyes, watery and a couple of tears dropping from his eyelashes, you immediately cup his cheek and lift his chin to inspect him better. “Oh…” Bringing your other hand to wipe the tear from his right cheek. “I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head slightly, gently touching the back of your hand to look back down at the drawing.

“Thank you…”

Your heart thumps at his soft words and as your gaze goes down to your drawing, Elvis moves your hand to rest on his chest. Rubbing it with his thumb as he thinks. Realising that you're showing a different version of him to him.

A version you say he is but he never understood until now.

A version that’s loving, soft and angelic.

A version that you call, little muse.

Your little muse.

“I love it.”

[maxdibert]

Hi! Could you tell me your top 5 least favorite Harry Potter characters and why?

My 5 most hated characters in Harry Potter are:

5 - Molly Weasley: I can’t stand this woman. I can’t stand how she acts like a morally superior, pure-blood yet holds endless prejudices, especially (and mostly) toward other, younger women. I don’t like her tradwife vibe, and I don’t like how overbearing and suffocating she is. Seriously, in real life, I’d feel the urge to tell her off—she’s that typical annoying woman who doesn’t know where the boundaries are.

4 - Remus Lupin: Zero sympathy for a man almost forty who got a 24-year-old girl pregnant and then abandoned her. Remus Lupin is a coward and a piece of trash, a bullying accomplice who keeps his head down regarding his own actions and needs a 17-year-old to teach him a lesson in manhood. I really wish Tonks had left him and taken off with Teddy to get as far away as possible from that pathetic excuse for a person.

3 - Dumbledore: Starting with the fact that the entire problem of the story basically stems from his irresponsibility with Tom Riddle, which already showed that he was a terrible teacher. He only shows concern for students who can serve his purposes or suck up to him, and his involvement throughout the story shows a moral stance I find nauseating. I mean, he’s a guy who has the nerve to lecture his former students who “chose the wrong path,” but when those same students were under his care, he constantly neglected and rejected them just because they didn’t belong to a certain house. He had the audacity to call Severus Snape “miserable” when it was Dumbledore himself who allowed Snape to be bullied and almost killed without lifting a finger to stop it or punish the bullies. This same Dumbledore scolds Draco Malfoy for not trusting him when from Draco’s first day at Hogwarts, all he saw from the old man was favoritism toward a certain house and certain students, completely ignoring the rest. Honestly, I’d have banned him from teaching. There’s a lot said about Snape as a teacher, but Dumbledore was responsible for everything, allowed terrible things to happen, and turned his back on many vulnerable children and teenagers. Then he acted all surprised when they ended up in bad places. Screw him, hypocritical old man.

2 - Ginny Weasley: The “I’m not like other girls,” the “shut up, Hermione, you don’t know anything about Quidditch,” the “everyone look at me, I hex people, I’m one of the boys, I’m not vain but I’m hot, but I’m not prissy,” the “I make fun of girls who are pretty, flirty, and feminine because I’m a textbook pick-me girl” who is shoved into the end of the series. She’s a character who didn’t matter at all throughout the story; she’s barely mentioned in some books, but suddenly she’s Harry’s love interest because J.K. Rowling needed all her characters to end up married with 468749284 kids, and Harry needed to be part of the Weasley family. So, they had to do something. Ginny is a terrible character, going from irrelevant to some sort of Mary Sue who even the Slytherins drool over and who, of course, is not a “typical girl” because being a “typical girl” in Rowling’s world is somehow the original sin. So, she’s great at sports, hexes people, pulls pranks because she’s so cool, uh uh uh, she’s not like the others, uh uh uh, but she has internalized misogyny that you can smell from here to China. Honestly, someone should have slapped her for being so damn stupid.

1 - James Potter: There’s nothing I haven’t already said about James Potter. He’s a character who really grinds my gears because they try to sell him as some kind of hero, but he was just a spoiled rich kid who decided to torment a poor, vulnerable boy simply because that boy was friends with his crush. He used his social power and status to get away with all the crap he pulled, attacked in groups, lied to his girlfriend saying he’d stopped bullying people when he really hadn’t, and when he was supposed to be locked up in a house with his wife and son, he was off fooling around with his best friend. James Potter was an ass, and defending him is defending classism, elitism, and whitewashing social classes. I’m not going to explain why.

[monayen]

how about something sfw for a change? can you do a ranking of who’s best at cooking?

Cooking Headcannons

➷ Paring - Multi x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - very light mention of consuming blood and cannibalism. that’s about it !!

a/n - i feel like im a bit rusty at pure sfw stuff… but i will try for NNN ~_~ this isn’t a ranking, since a good chunk are either just bad or barely cook. mostly just hcs about food they like, what’d they’d make you, and habits etc. ratmen are excluded cus you know those boys scavenge rather than cook !!! also ignore any mistakes i wrote this really fast

Sebastian

While Sebastian did work at a pizza place for a bit before becoming Randal’s pet, it was just as a delivery boy

I like to think he was in the training process of learning how to make the food, but he got lost before he learned anything skillful. He does have half the recipe for garlic knots memorized though 

A personal hc is that his parents were semi-absent with him (which probably helped lead him to being in the adoption center in the first place), so he survived a lot on sandwiches and microwave meals since they were easy and available

He wasn’t a big fan of it then, but now he craves them a lot. His favorite were the microwaveable kraft dinner mac & cheese cups. Foods like that are a comfort for him, and he’ll love you forever if you manage to get some for him to eat

Luther doesn’t trust him in the kitchen, so even if Sebastian wanted to cook, he wouldn’t be allowed. Deep down, he doubts his cooking skills anyways

Randal

A terrible cook. He has no idea how to properly prepare a meal and his attempts often end in disaster

Randal doesn't understand the concept of recipes or following instructions. He just throws random ingredients together and hopes for the best. “How to Basic” levels of culinary skills

Despite his terrible cooking skills, Randal still insists on trying to make meals for people (or you) to try. Truly believes he's good and everyone else just can’t handle his exquisite tastes

Once, Randal tried to make surprise pancakes for breakfast. He used baking powder instead of baking soda and the pancakes turned out hard as rocks. He still ate them anyway, breaking a couple of his teeth in the process. Don’t worry, they grew back by supper

He used to try to cook at least a couple times a week, but Luther banned him after he 

somehow managed to set water on fire on the stove. Now he’s restricted to just the microwave. Which is alright, just remind him to add the water in his instant noodles before they explode

Randal will also eat almost anything if it's covered in enough sauce or condiments. He's been known to put ketchup on his cereal and maple syrup on his pizza. Swears by it, will probably make you try all his weird food combinations

Satoru

This little show off!

Cooks and bakes purely to give it away to you or Randal. He doesn’t even eat them himself, always insisting you try his new recipe

The reality is that he steals most of his ideas from cookbooks. While he has the skill to execute them, coming up with his own dishes and perfecting them is a bit beyond him—but that’s a secret he keeps to himself!

He’ll sit there, watching closely as you eat his carefully prepared food, studying your reactions and asking if it’s good, like a chef waiting for feedback

But he’s memorized what you like already, and he makes sure to tailor his dishes just for you, hoping to earn your praise when the flavors hit your tongue

Exceptional at chopping, so fast at it you worry he’ll cut a finger off or something if he’s not careful enough. A part of him doesn’t mind if you taste something that has a little bit of his blood in it…

Doesn’t exactly have a favorite meal or food, he likes whatever you like :) is a bit partial to Japanese cuisine though, especially sashimi

Nyon

Nyon's cooking skills are quite limited. As a catman, his preferences lean more towards raw meats and simple  foods. Or whatever Luther gives him

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like a good home cooked meal, but if you put him in a kitchen with every ingredient and tool that could potentially make something avant-garde or delicious… he’d probably just end up making hard boiled eggs

He does have an odd skill of picking though. Pickled cucumbers, onions, beets, all in unlabeled, merky, mason jars. Has a goal to pickle everything that can be pickled, just to try

Keeps a stash of it in the pantry and munches on them when he gets high. Will share if you ask (he kinda wants you to, pickling takes practice!) 

Nyon has the stance that he’d much rather wash the dishes and put away the ingredients than actually prepare the food, as it’s a lot of effort and stress on his part that’d he’d rather avoid

Nyen

Really only ever cooks for himself. Not a fan of sharing and to be honest… you probably wouldn’t like what he makes anyways

Lots of slabs of undercooked chicken and beef, barely seasoned because “it doesn’t need that.” Protein buff, but not keen on eating beans… or eggs… or fish… Okay, usually just eats chicken to maintain his muscles

Unironically picky, doesn’t eat a lot of what isn’t what he usually eats. If you give him a plate of pasta or something, he’ll just stare at it like you handed him a severed cow head. Even Luther knows this, making sure he keeps the fridge stocked with Nyen favorite foods so he’s in the best condition to get through the day!

Does have a small sweet tooth, so you can coax him into baking if he’s in a good mood. His favorite are raspberry muffins :)

You still might have to do most of the work, but he’ll mix shit and keep track of the dessert in the oven for you. Don’t ask him for anything else—just hand him a muffin and clean up the mess, okay?

Luther

Quite the chef! 

He’s domestic, and even though Randal always begs him to get fast food to eat, he always prefers to make something at home

Uses “passed down” recipes. Passed down from who? Who knows. He keeps them all in a little old notebook, pages yellowed and worn out. The last ingredient in all the recipes is always “love ♡”

He’s also a big fan of those southern mom baking shows, especially during the holiday season, he’ll bake like a madman!

Likes nature, so he does have a small garden in the backyard of the house he’ll tend to when he has the time. Specializes in exotic vegetables you probably aren’t used to eating. Ask him how his kohlrabi harvest is going, he’s quite proud!

The type of humanoid to surprise you with your favorite meal after a long day. Makes enough for everyone, of course, but Luther puts in effort to see the smile on your face when he presents you with it at the dinner table

He does expect compliments after you eat any of his food, even if it’s something as simple as scrambled eggs. It means a lot to him, so don’t forget to do so. He might take it the wrong way if you don’t 

Luther swears up and down that he’d never eat a human. Cannibalism is wrong! But he did get very close to once… just to “expand his pallet”

[jeguluses]

resuscitation ✦ a sirius black microfic

— 706 words ; sfw ; wolfstar and platonic prongsfoot and black brother fluff ; fix it / crack lmao

“Hello?”

The first voice Sirius has heard in years and for some reason, the last one he expects to hear is Remus’. Or at least, he would be the least likely person if not for James’ cadence echoing through the narrow shoot to his cell directly after.

“Pads?”

Sirius calls out, his own voice grated from disuse, saturated in disbelief, “Guys?”

Then, the narrow gouge in Sirius’ cell where he’d been taking his meals is opening, widened by Remus’ handiwork, who is suddenly visible with his wand pointing at the stone. And next to him—

“James?!” He throws himself into his friend, unsure if he’s dreaming but not willing to waste a second of the reunion by taking any time to consider the reality of it. He wants to enjoy it.

James holds him closely, apparently uncaring of his emaciated form or rotting smell. “Sirius, you’re alright.”

“I’m alright? You died!” He shakes him without loosening his grip. “Moons, you better get in here. I’m not letting go of him but you know how terribly I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, alright.” Remus laughs and complies. “Let me get us out of here while I’m at it.”

Sirius hadn’t known that was an option. For a moment, he’s terrified. Worried that that change of scenery will wake him up. Then, there’s the tightening of apparation and he’s no longer in the oppressive atmosphere of Azkaban and instead in a cinnamon scented living room.

He’s free from the arms of his loved ones for an entire second in total before there's a mouthful of red hair and soft, freckled arms. “Happy birthday, Sirius.”  A toddler is tucked between them and he has tears filling his vision.

“This is real?”

Lily laughs in his arms but it’s not her that answers. “I hope so. I worked really hard to get here.” It comes from behind him and he pulls away from the woman only enough to see the source.

It’s Regulus, his hair the shortest Sirius has ever seen it, a contrast to the unprecedented length of his own. He’s dressed in a muggle button down and jacket but it’s visible only through his robes. He looks clean and light. Unburdened. If it wasn’t his brother, he might not have recognized him.

It’s with his eyes locked onto Regulus’ nearly identical irises, that Sirius loses consciousness.

✧˖°.♡︎⋆｡°✩

Later, when he’s feeling less lightheaded, Remus fills him in a bit and then Regulus, Lily, James, and Dumbledore stop by to explain the rest, the latter having joined them for tea and discussions after apologizing for his tardiness.

He learns of his brother’s bravery, inspired by the loss of Lily and James and his pride in his brother’s resilient pursuit of Peter. He finally confided in his knowledge of the locket, not knowing how important it was to the cause. Doubling as a spy for the Order, he had been in close contact with Snape and Dumbledore, without the knowledge of most members, who had returned his divulged information with the revelation of his theory on Voldemort’s creation of Horcruxes.

With everyone working together, it didn’t take long to gather the artifacts and destroy them. Helped further along by the sacrifice that Lily and James had made, which was returned with their lives when Voldemort’s curse magic had dissipated and undone each death carried out in the process of making Horcruxes.

“So, they just released me?”

At this, Regulus’ face falls and Remus hurries to explain. “Your release was a priority, it has been since we discovered that Peter was my counterweight. Secretly on Voldemort’s service. But the ministry is slow and—”

“Without us to prove it wasn’t you who betrayed us, it was hard securing your freedom. We’ve only been back three months and you’re already out.”

He is distracted by hands in his hair which isn’t surprising, Remus has been soothing the strands with his fingers while Sirius’ head lay in his lap for the past hour or so, but these hands are tiny and insistent.

Sirius shifts to look at Harry, who has crawled over to them from his blanket on the floor. “It’s over, then? Everyone is safe?” He asks Harry but addresses the room.

“Everyone is safe.”

[justtwotired]

Hi!

How are you??

This is like random but I've had this thought on my mind for like a really long time about a oneshot where basically Lloyd x fem reader where they are like lovers to enemies then back to lovers and I was wondering if you could do a oneshot about it with a happy ending if

Ahhhh omg, yes. Love it!!! The moment I read this I immediately started brainstorming and writing ideas and I rarely do that lmao, I love this one a lot, I hope you enjoy!!!

Also, I am so, so, so sorry this took so incredibly long, I’ve been super busy and I hoped to write a lot this summer but my mom is really sick and me and my brother have to take care of her, I made this one shot extra long to make it up to you<3

“Sensei, we have to do something, he’s in pain,” Nya followed after Wu who just left the med bay. Lloyd had come back from a sticky mission where he had been injected with a poison.

The team had no idea what kind of poison it was so they couldn’t find a cure either. Lloyd was in terrible pain and was currently passed out while Zane tried to tend to the physical injuries.

“I’m going to call someone who can help us,” Wu said calmly and Nya frowned, almost running to keep up with her sensei, who, despite his old age, moved rather fast.

“Who are you going to call?” The moment she asked the question, the answer landed, “you’re going to call, (name)- no! She and Lloyd hate each other,” her eyebrows furrowed yet her eyes were wide in panic.

Sensei Wu didn’t answer and kept on walking, making Nya grumble in frustraiton and turn back to the medbay.

——

I was lazily scrolling trough TikTok when my phone started ringing. I hesitated as I saw who it was but picked up anyway.

“Wu?” I said a bit confused.

“(Name), we need you to come to the monastery, it’s Lloyd,” he said and I rolled my eyes, sitting back against the couch, ignoring the fact that he sounded troubled and in a hurry.

“What’s with Lloyd?” I asked, not that I cared, I just wondered why he thought I could be of any help. Not like Lloyd would want me there anyway.

“He’s injured and poisoned, we do not have an antidote and we aren’t sure if he’ll make it trough the night at this point,” Wu explained qucikly, not wasting any time and my stomach sank.

“What? What happened?” I shot up off the couch. “What kind of poison?” I already started walking towards the hallway to grab a jacket, ready to leave.

“Like I said, we aren’t sure, we sent him on a mission and he just came back completely beaten and collapsed, we need you here straight away,” he said and I nodded, quickly stepping into my heels which where the easiest to put on at the moment.

“Yes, alright, I’ll be there in ten,” I promised and hung up. I opened the door an once outside I summoned my elemental dragon.

I held the element of healing, which is probably why Wu called me. I met Lloyd at the tournament of elements and even though I was out rather soon, we became quick friends. I hung out with the team a lot and after the events with Morro, we fell in love.

I think that him asking me to be his girlfriend had been the best day of my life, I had been crushing on him for a long time at that point.

We were together for a long time… until Harumi came around. I found out she was a traitor soon enough, yet when I voiced this to Lloyd, he didn’t believe me.

I remember it quite well.

“Lloyd, I’m telling you, something about her is just off,” I followed him as he wandered onto the deck, a frustrated look on his face.

“You’re being paranoid, Rumi has nothing to do with this whole thing, how could she even?” Lloyd turned around making me stop in my tracks.

“Oh please, Lloyd, it’s so obvious, she’s putting up this whole innocent princess facade and all of you are just falling for it!” I pointed an accusing finger at him. “She’s evil, I can feel it. Besides, I overheard her make a weird phone call earlier today and soon after Zane’s cover mysteriously fell, that cannot be a coincidence!”

“(Name) stop! You’re being unfair! How dare you call her evil accuse her of such things?” He raised his voice making me do a shocked step back. “Rumi has been trough enough and does not need you to be badmouthing her. That phone call could have been anything- god, her home was burned down and her parents died, of course she’s going to be having phone calls, she obviously wants updates!” He threw his hands in the air.

“How can’t you see what’s right in front of you! How fucking gullible are you, Lloyd? She’s manipulating every single one of you!” I yelled and his eyes were filled with rage.

“What is wrong with you!? I don’t even recognise you anymore, a few days ago you where still my happy, excited and kind (name), and now you’re cold, mean and unfair!” His eyes flooded with red and he took a step closer making me take a small step back. “You’re being vile and cruel, god I don’t even recognise you anymore!” My jaw clenched as he yelled at me and my eyes darkened.

“Well maybe I’m not to person you thought I was,” I looked away from him, “and maybe you aren’t the person I thought you where, because the Lloyd I thought I knew would’ve believed me in a heartbeat!” I accused and he let out a humourless, disbelieving laugh.

“Yeah, maybe I’m not who you thought I was,” as he said it, he took another step closer, his eyes dangerously narrowed and his hand went up to point and accusing finger at me.

My body reacted on instinct, flinching and taking a few steps back, I bit my lip to stop it from trembling as I looked at him with tears and fear in my eyes.

He faltered at my reaction, his eyes wide with shock, “love, I-” He started but I cut him off.

“Don’t call me that,” my voice broke, and I softly shook my head. “It’s over Lloyd, we’re done,” I turned around and headed back inside to pack my bags and leave.

He didn’t stop me.

I swallowed away my tears as I landed at the monastery, my dragon disappeared and I hurried inside, immediately heading to the medbay. When I opened the door, I was crashed into a hug by Jay.

“Oh, (Name)! It’s been ages,” he hugged me tightly and I chuckled hugging him back.

“It’s good to see you too Jay,” I patted his hair before we made our way over to the others who where all discussing and send me quick hello’s.

Kai and Cole where arguing over what to do, Zane tried his best to tend to Lloyd, Nya pitched in rather annoyed with Kai and Cole saying they needed to stop arguing and get to a point. Jay was really trying to help but in reality he was just in the way making Zane irritated.

“Alright, everyone except Zane out!” I yelled and silence fell as they looked at me. “You heard me, Zane will explain to me in short and then I can get to work in peace, everyone out now,” I pointed at the door and one by one they started to leave.

I’ve known them for ages, they knew better than to go against me.

“Zane, do you have any idea about the poison in his body and how long it’s been in there?” I turned to the nindroid and we exchanged theories.

I examined Lloyd’s cuts and bruises which had already been tended to pretty good, while Zane explained.

I thanked him and then he aswel left the room. When he was gone, I put my hand on Lloyd’s forehead and it started to glow a faint purple. I closed my eyes and concentrated.

——

An hour later, I had finally found an antidote, injected it and I had taken care of some other bodily injuries.

When I opened the door to find the others, I found them all waiting outside.

“He’s fine,” their faces lit up, “he’ll need assistance for a few days so someone needs to look after him, also I suggest I stay here for a while to make sure we aren’t caught by a surprise, I’ll be gone before he wakes up,” I avoided eye contact at the last part and the tension was high.

“Uhm, (name),” Cole spoke up and I met his brown, kind eyes. I had missed him, he was such a gentle giant, but the moment me and Lloyd broke up, I decided it was best to not contact the others. “We do not really, uh… have the time to take care of Lloyd the coming days,” he broke our eye contact to look at the ground.

“Yeah,” Kai piped up, “we’ve already been busy enough, now that Lloyd can’t do anything for a few days, it’s even worse,” he awkwardly said and my face fell.

“Are you suggesting..?” I trailed off and looked behind me at Lloyd who was now peacefully asleep instead of murmuring, tossing and turning in pain. The sight had broke my heart.

“It would help us out a lot,” Nya said sheepishly and I sighed.

“Fine, I’ll take care of him,” I crossed my arms before stepping out of the doorway. “Now go and see him, he won’t wake up for a few hours so I suggest the lot of you get some sleep soon,” I said before leaving to make myself a cup of tea.

——

Another hour later, I was sat next to Lloyd’s bed in the medbay. Cole had suggested carrying him to his own bed, but I advised against it, I had my tools here in case things went south, it was better if he stayed here for another day or two, depend on how he would be doing.

Besides, I didn’t want him moving to much incase any stitches ripped.

My eyes traced the features of his face, he had come to look a bit older in the year that I hadn’t spoken to him. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been keeping up with him on the news though. Always watching to see if he was doing alright.

Sometimes I missed us, sometimes I regretted saying all those things that day, even if some of them were true. And god was I petty, the day after our fight I was fantasising about how we would get back together, I had ruined it all with one simple text.

I told you so.

I had unblocked him and blocked him again just to send it after I saw Harumi went to jail. I ruined my dreams where he’d come knocking on my door to apologies that day.

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at Lloyd again, he was just as handsome as I remembered. The small scar behind his ear that I had traced with my finger so many times was still there, he still looked as peaceful as he did back then when he slept.

I had the sudden urge to hold his hand. To hold his hand and pretend like nothing ever happened, like we hadn’t broke up a year ago, like he still loved me.

It didn’t matter how much I tried to convince myself I lost feelings for him. I went on dates with other people, tried to erase him out of my mind, I acted as if he wasn’t the best boyfriend I had ever had.

And yet then I looked at him and all the memories came flooding back, the memories of how he talked to me as if I was the most important thing in the world, the memories of how he’d always needed to be touching me in some way because it made him happy, the memories of how I loved him.

Suddenly he stirred and I froze, my eyes locked onto his which were slowly opening. Looking outside I guessed it was almost 2 AM? The others had already gone to sleep per my orders.

Slowly his eyes opened and he groaned, bringing his hands up to rub the sleep away. He tried sitting up but I quickly stopped him.

“Don’t sit up yet, you’ll pass out again,” I warned and rested a hand on his shoulder to lay him back down, he froze at the sound of my voice.

“(Name)?” The sleepy look in his eyes suddenly disappeared as he realised who I was, his eyes filled with something familiar, something I had missed so much. “What are you doing here?” The adoration in his eyes was gone and he narrowed them.

“You were poisoned,” I whispered, “your uncle called, I came as fast as I could,” I explained, avoiding his eyes.

There was a beat of silence as he took in my words.

“And you actually came?” He sounded surprised making me bite the inside of my lip. “Why?”

“He said you weren’t going to make the night,” I tried so hard to keep my voice from breaking but it still did. “I wouldn’t know what I’d do with myself if I found out you died and I could’ve changed that,” I blinked the tears in my eyes away and finally got the courage to look at him.

The adoration was back and I swallowed thickly. “How are you feeling?” I asked quietly and his eyes tracked back to the ceiling, letting out a sigh.

“Tired,” he answered. “Sore,” he added and looked at me, “what did you do?” He asked and I shrugged.

“The first I did was try to take out most of the poison, even though I was late and it already started spreading,” I avoided looking at him, looking out of the window instead. “Then I used the tiny bit I managed to get out to find out what the poison was to be able to find and antidote, lucky for you it was here,” I explained.

“Thank you,” he mumbled and I swallowed thickly.

“Not a problem,” my voice cracked and I mentally cursed myself. He did not need to see me this weak.

“Hey,” I looked up when his hand found mine. “I’m serious, thank you,” he smiled softly and I smiled back, trying to blink away the tears, hoping he didn’t see them.

“You should get some sleep,” I stood up, making him let go of my hand. “I’ll be here for the coming days, seeing that the others are to busy to take care of you,” I headed for the door but stopped at the sound of his voice.

“Can I go to my own room?” He asked and I turned back around.

“No, not today, maybe tomorrow,” I said and he frowned slightly, making me sigh. “In case of anything going wrong, I need you here, where my tools are. Not only that, but you are weak and unable to make it to your bed, you stay here for the night,” I explained and he scrunched up his nose.

“Are you calling me weak?” He looked offended and I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, now sleep,” I left the room without another word, ignoring his offended shout.

———

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the door before I opened it, letting myself in. “Goodmorning,” I greeted Lloyd who was already sitting up. I put a glass of water on the table next to him. “Did you sleep well?” I asked.

She shook his head and looked at me. “Nope,” he popped the p as he said it. “Sleeping after being poisoned isn’t to comfortable for your information,” he said sassily and I rolled my eyes.

“I can just go now, if you keep that up,” I threatened with a glare and he huffed and looked the other way.

I bit my lip and sighed. “How do you feel?” I questioned.

“Fine I guess, maybe a little ill and my wound hurts a little,” he still avoided looking at me, but I just decided to ignore it.

“I see,” I nodded and contemplated for a moment. “Well, I’ll be back in the afternoon to check up on you then, do you need anything right now?” I asked him and he opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. “Well?” I asked a bit impatient.

He hesitated a bit before speaking. “I guess some company would be nice,” he admitted and my throat ran dry.

“The others are out for missions and your uncle is meditating at the moment, I’ll ask them when they are free,” I quickly said and moved to walk away but he grabbed my wrist.

“You know what I mean, (name).” He looked me in my eyes and I swallowed before taking place on the chair.

“Fine,” I stated, “how do you wanna pass time?” I asked him and he just shrugged meekly.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to,” he looked at me and I bit my lip slightly before I started.

“Nothing much, I continued my job at the cafe and I went back to my tiny apartment, I’m glad I didn’t sell it,” I started.

Before I met Lloyd and the team, my life was just normal, I worked in a cafe in the city and lived in appartement not far from it. When I did meet Lloyd and the others, I quickly found a home at the monastery and barely went back to my apartment anymore. At one point I thought to sell it, but it was the only place to fall back on after the fight, so it’s good I didn’t.

Lloyd nodded and gave me a look that told me to go on. “I uh, I started to study medicine, hoping to still be able to pursue being some sort of doctor,” I revealed making his eyebrows raise.

He knew it’d always been something I wanted to do, I talked about it a lot, yet never really did anything with it, but it turned out that leaving Lloyd and the others gave me a lot of time I didn’t know how to spent.

“Best of your class I suppose?” He asked with a cheeky grin, making me chuckle and nod.

“I am,” I admitted, “but I’ve already got lots of experience after being woken in the middle of the night to patch up some wounds at least once a week for a few years straight,” I gave him a pointed look making him chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he joked and I shook my head with he smile. “How’s Frankie?” He asked me then, causing my smile to grow.

“Yeah, yeah Frankie’s good,” I happily answered before remembering something. “Having some great times though,” I scowled and elaborated at his confused look. “He’s got the neighbours cat pregnant,” I told him with a scoff.

“Of course he did,” Lloyd huffed a laugh, “I’ve seen him eye Meowtra, the little hornbag he is,” he gave me a look as if to go against the statement and I just lightly glared at him.

“Stop,” I warned, but grinned non the less.

Silence fell again, besides what I told my life wasn’t to eventful, and I definitely wasn’t about to tell Lloyd about the dates I went on.

“And you?” I asked eventually. “How have you been?” I of course knew what’s been happening to some extent, I’ve been keeping up with the media.

“A rollercoaster of emotions really,” he answered. “A lot happened when you left, but I assume you know,” he gave me a look causing me to avert my eyes.

We both knew what he was talking about and I knew that with his comment, he was walking about the text I’d send him.

“Things have been good at the monastery though,” he said. “There was some tension in the beginning but it’s almost back to being normal. As good as all sons of Garmadon have been caught, so we aren’t worrying about that anymore, mostly just missions like they where before Sensei went missing,” he explained and I nodded before halting.

“Almost back to being normal?” I asked a bit confused, tilting my head a bit to the side as I looked at him.

He awkwardly averted his gaze and looked the other way as he talked. “Yeah,” he said. “Things are still different with you gone,” he admitted making me freeze as I felt a lot create in my stomach. “Everyone misses you,” he told me and I lightly frowned.

“Everyone?” I asked, he knew what I meant and then looked me right into my eyes.

“Everyone,”

I bit my lip, looking down at the ground, because fuck, of course I missed him too.

“I should visit sometime then,” I still didn’t look at him and pulled my legs up onto the chair, hugging them to my body.

“I think the team would like that,” he smiled and I met his gaze.

There were some beats of silence and I wasn’t sure what to say any further, so I just decided to change the topic.

“Wanna see if we can get you to your room?” I asked and he nodded eagerly.

I left the chair behind as he started to get out of the hospital bed. I was quickly at his side as he tried standing up. He wobbled a bit and put a hand on my shoulder out of reflex.

He gave me an apologetic smile and I light heartedly smiled back.

“C’mon,” I said and put his entire arm around my shoulder to help him walk.

Together we stumbled out of the medbay and I walked him to his room, not even having to wonder where it was, because one year ago, that was my room aswel.

I opened the door and walked him to his bed where he finally got to sit down and rest for a bit.

“Fuck, that poison is nasty stuff,” he said and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah no shit, it almost killed you,” I pointed out and he gave me a sheepish smile.

I looked around the room to see that nothing had really changed, all the pictures in his room where the same, except for a few, I noticed. Some of them were taken down… the ones I was in.

Only one remained, it was a picture of me and him, both with huge smiles and ice cream cones as we sat in the park.

For the remaining, everything stood in the same place, his desk was a mess as always and the posters were all still hanging in place, even the Sleep Token poster I had added.

While I looked around the room, Lloyd had laid down, legs now under the covers. I had to physically stop myself from automatically joining him in the bed like I had done thousands of times before.

“How are you feeling?” I asked him, glancing over. He turned his head to me from where it rested on his pillow.

“Fine I guess,” he said. “But- I do have a stinging pain on my back,” he admitted. I sighed and walked over.

“Alright, c’mon, sit up,” I gestured to him and he did as told, turning his back to me and sitting with his legs crossed on his bed as he did. “Okay, can you take the shirt off so I can have a look?” I asked while grabbing my phone in case I needed better light.

“Oh?” He said suggestively, causing my cheeks to flush and quickly look over at him.

“Lloyd!” I scolded and he just chuckled before pulling his shirt over his head. He always did that stupid flirting whenever he was injured and I needed to have a look, causing me to ask him to remove clothing. It always made me flustered. And sometimes a little horny.

When I saw his bare back, I saw I did not need a flashlight. A big part of his back was blue, almost purple, while there were some grazes that seemed to have draw light blood.

“Shit, where you slammed against a wall or something?” I asked, trailing the wound with my hand, causing him to shiver.

“Might be, I don’t remember,” he admitted and I shook my head.

“You stay here, I’ll grab you some salve,” I said before leaving the room without any further comment.

I came back within a few minutes and started slowly spreading the cool salve over his back, trying to ignore how his muscles moved under his skin whenever he shifted.

“I’m done,” I told him and put the tube in my back pocket, he turned to face me. He stared at me for a second before absolutely baffling me.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, causing my eyes to slightly widen.

“I- what?” I knotted my eyebrows together in confusion.

“About.. you know, the fight,” he clarified, causing realisation to hit me.

“Lloyd-” I started but he cut me off before I could continue.

“I just needed to say it, I always wanted to, but I was just too much of a coward to do so,” he admitted, making me lightly bite my lip.

“Okay,” I just nodded, what was I supposed to say to this?

“Okay?” He raised and eyebrow at me, causing anger to boil up.

“Yeah, okay, what do you want me to say otherwise, cause I am not gonna apologise!” I pointed an angry finger at him.

“(Name)-”

“No, you were an absolute dick to me while I was just warning you and I was still right in the end!” I yelled, the anger I had felt all that time ago, the anger that I had still felt the entire year deep down, came running back up.

“Yeah, you made that clear,” he huffed, casing me to shoot him a quick glare.

“Yeah, the text was a bit of an asshole move, but it felt good at the time,” I crossed my arms and looked right at him.

“Oh it felt good?” He raised his eyebrows with wide eyes, looking at me in disbelief.

“Yeah, it felt good,” I repeated. “I sure hope you realise how absolutely devastated I was after everything. I was shattered after leaving not only you but the others! Not only that but it was over a stupid fight about that- that stupid, evil, moron of a princess that had all of you eating out of her hand!” I yelled at him and he was stunned into silence.

I bit my lip hard, trying to get rid of the tears in my eyes but they refused and just started streaming down my face, I hid my face in my hands not wanting him to look at my face right now. He seemed horrified at the sight and quickly stood up.

“Hey- hey I’m sorry,” he said again and put his arms around me while I sobbed. “I’m sorry, for everything, not believing you, yelling at you, making you feel unwanted and fuck- I’m sorry for not chasing after you after everything,” he whispered to me as I sobbed.

“You’re an asshole,” I said trough hiccups and he just chuckled.

“I know,” he answered and hugged me tighter. I pulled my hands away from my face and hugged him back, my sobs slowly dying down.

“God- I missed you so much,” I admitted and I felt him tense a bit after my words, causing me to immediately regret them.

“I missed you too,” he said and I sighed, closing my eyes and burying my face in his chest, tears staining his plain grey shirt. “Do you think we could ever go back to normal?” I pulled away slightly to look at me.

“Normal?” I asked him, locking eyes with him.

“You know what I mean,” he mumbled a bit embarrassed making me lightly smile.

“Maybe if you take me out for ice cream when that poison is completely out of your system,” I lightly grinned at him, causing his eyes to light up.

“I can do that,” he grinned, eyes full of joy, before they quickly darted at my lips and then back up. He acted as if it didn’t happen and I scoffed as he took a step backwards.

“Oh for gods sake Lloyd, just kiss me already,” I exclaimed.

He didn’t need to hear it twice as he stepped closer again and leaned down. I put my arms around his neck while his hands came to restnon my hips.

His lips locked against mine and it felt like a weight finally fell of of my shoulders. It was like I had no worries at all as I kissed him again and I think he felt the same.

He pulled away for a second and we stared each other in the eyes, causing me to giggle giddily. He grinned before dipping down to kiss me again.

Bonus:

It’d been a while since Kai had spitter (Name). He’d decided to head to the medbay to check if she and Lloyd hadn’t killed each other, only to find it empty.

Confused he left to check Lloyd’s bedroom, wondering if maybe he had been fine and she had just left without a word, again.

He opened Lloyd’s bedroom door, only to halt at the sight.

In the bed laid two figures, both sound asleep. Lloyd had his arms around (Name) while she was cuddled into his chest.

Kai grinned before closing the door and rushing off to tell the others about what he just found.

[stanskissing]

you should write....... dipford w/down bad ford eating dipper out.... ahahahahhh

guys,,, my dipford celebrity crush sentme an ask im gonna bust all over the screen. anything you want i will write in a heartbeat. inspired by the fanart you sent me (this is me flexing that im friends withyou))OKAy GO! . . . . ford calls himmasonOKAY GO!

ford loved his boy so much. mason was perfect, ever since they first bonded over dd&d he became obsessed with him, unable to control his hungry gaze whenever mason would look up at him and bat his little eyelashes as he gushes over whatever nerd mumbo jumbo ford is telling him about and fuck the kid was basically in love with him,`````````` how is he supposed to control himself when the boy was all but throwing himself at ford??. he was determined to make mason his, morals be damned he wanted that boy

ford pines body worshipGO he,. is so obsessed . with how how small and soft mason is . god it makes his head spin how he's so smooth and hairless and rarely has any blemishes on his skin except for a scrape or two on his knee. ford;s self-restraint slipping when sweet little mason turns into putty in his hands, his hands that can also spread across the entire width of his body a thought that doesnt make ford incredibly hard At All. whenever he gets dipper under him, clothes already on the floor and his undies pulled down to his ankles ford spends so much time just feeling him up and staring at every part of his that is mason comes just from having ford kiss up his neck and knead his ass because the attnetion is just too much for the little boy,, ford likes rhat about him, so easy to get himm to finish he can break his mind and turn him into a thoughtless drooling puddle underneath him and that was the mason he liked best, unable to protest to anything because the only thought in his mind is ford ford ford

he'd flip him over, barelt even needing to use any effort to turn the boy onto his stomach, mason whining when his terribly sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets under him. ford would run his hand lost in dipper's curls to down his back, pressing his shoulderblades into the bed and forcing him to arch his back and present himself to ford. ford has to hold back the urge to just cum in his pants when dipper turns his head back to look at him, big teary doe eyes blinking up at him, not a thought behind those eyes as he stares up at ford with his hazy fucked out gaze, he'd whine n sniffle until ford brushes the tears from his puffy cheeks and mason's hand would reach for his and his cute little fingers would wrap around two of ford's (hands to small to properly hold hands so he holds his fingers like a baby does Sorry)

he'd lean forward, kissing down his back and nipping at his little moles and scars. the feeling of mason's soft plush skin against his rough skin felt heavenly and he;d almost lose himself when mason shivers against the feeling of ford's stubble and he'd suppress a groan as the kid instinctively pushes his hips back against ford and jesus christ this kid is gonna kill him he;s so perfect and so desperate fior ford and the mans ego skyrockets and all his blood rushes to his dick

his free hand comes to push mason's knees apart, spreading his cheeks, and the boys moves without any hesitation, pressing his stomach further into the bed as his feet hook onto ford's shoulders as ford's hands come to rest over either of mason;s cheeks. he spreads them gently, rubbing his thumb over the boys hole before teasingly pressing it inside and masons legs twitch around ford;s neck, pressing him closer, he pushes it in a couple times before letting go but wuickly replacing it with his tongue, ford;s head dipping forward and he licks a big stripe up his crack and then softly poking inside. ford could cum just from mason's reaction alone, the kid letting out a long high pitched moan and he bucks his hips back against ford;s face desperate to further the intrusion and ford needs more, more of mason's delicious little moans that fill his ears and the sweet taste of mason on his tongue and ford's free hand comes to grab his thigh, forcing him back onto his face as he flicks his tongue and moans around dipper's hole as he ruts his own hips into the bed unable to stop himelf and he devours dipper like he'll die if he doesnt

and poor, poor mason. he's already incredibly sensitive all over from his previous handful of orgasms and good LORD ford tongue fucks him into next week as he's ravished from behind and mason's close again, so so close and ford's could tell, the boy's little thighs twitching and his hip's stutter as ford presses him impossibly closer and the hand on his thigh slips under him, wrapping around his little dick, gathering all the excess saliva ford's made and jerking him hard, andmason comes undone around him, hole fluttering and clenching around ford's tongue as he coats ford's large hand with his seed and jesus ford could die like this. all his senses surrounded by mason aaaand ford creams his shorts porbbalyOKBYE

this got kinda long sowwy. hope i did ur prompt justic my glorious dipford king 🙏

[brrdhouse]

i had to take a while before even STARTING to type this response because i was jittering too hard in excitement, real footage of me attached vvv

... this is me the next morning realizing nothing i wrote saved correctly. anywho.

first of all, please talk more about your au. i love god aus, i need to know as much lore as you're willing to tell me.

i also understand moving from more popular to problematic/ obscure faves. stan and mabel are and will also be close to my heart, but when i'm really thinking about it? pacifica, gideon, and weirdly the two surviving clones from double dipper are the ones i love the most.

i feel a little dumb overanalyzing it all, but i don't think people nowadays talk about how tragic the characters of pacifica and gideon really are. pacifica was trained on a bell, for gods sake, that's horrifying! she was conditioned to be the perfect obedient yet unsympathic child the northwests could have. gideon was a child star being corrupted by dark magic, which is already horrible without my early grave headcanon. not to mention the possibility that bud was using the memory gun on his own son. (when i get you bud gleeful... better watch out)

i think they'd bond on the idea of the ever-praised (thank you so much, i'm so happy that line landed as well as it did) "outcast yet above it all" because they understand each other in a way no one else in the group could. yeah, pacifica was close with other zodiac members, and yeah, they all had moments they weren't proud of, but none of them understood how good those moments had felt for her. it felt good to command a crowd. to be the center of attention. to ridicule others because you were just.. above them.

but gideon did. and he didn't scold her when she made a mean comment, or call her selfish when she'd split something and give him the smaller portion, because they both knew he could slip up and do the same. no matter how much they both tried to be good people, they were raised to be terrible people and that wasn't something that could just go away.

she had spent the last few years carving a crack in her metaphorical walls for him to slip through, and his death made her want to tear the whole thing down and start anew. but then there was wendy hugging her as the ambulance arrived, and dipper holding her hand at the funeral, and mcgucket checking in on her with whatever he could do to get her spirits up, and it all left her more willing to be vulnerable to the others. they could never fully understand why she did the things she did, not like he had, but they could try and that was enough sometimes.

touching on robbie before i talk about them all as a whole, i think his anger does finally start to simmer instead of constantly boiling over. he'll never not be angry, he'd have to mad-scientist gideon back alive and knock some sense into his parents to stop, but it didn't have to consume him.

that first year after the funeral, his friends didn't know what to do with him. he was an asshole, true and honest, moreso than he was as a kid, and it sucked. he didn't like the fact that he was self-isolating, but the hot rage that filled him everytime he saw something weird or dangerous or really anything related to his hometown was blinding and indiscriminatory on who it landed on.

he thinks that coffee meet with mabel saved him. they talked, and she was amicable in the face of his irritation, but he could feel how she skirted over the same topics he should. no weirdness. no grieving, other than her own. she mentions once, how upsetting it was to be at that funeral, openly weeping, when some people couldn't manage a single tear. but when she starts gripping the paper cup tight enough for it to strain, she takes a breath, looks out the window, and blinks away the tears of frustration.

he asks how she handles it, and she says, "i don't. not really. i just stopped trying to tell other people how they should grieve, even if i think they're being insensitive douchebags," ending it with a strained giggle.

and so he starts letting that anger transform, melting into cool numbness that's easier to work with. when the depression gets bad enough that he starts calling out of work, nate starts bringing over food, and wendy makes her little brothers—although they aren't so little anymore—go over there to clean the dark corner of the world that robbie had settled in after the anger faded. tambry and lee force him to hang out with them again, and eventually he starts liking it.

even after he gets back on his feet, he's still angry. but it doesn't burn as bright, or as hot. it sparks when he talks to his parents, but he lets it wash over him, talks to mabel about it days later and wonder how the annoying twelve-year-old he used to scoff at had become so dear to him. he starts talking to the rest of them more, finds a similar—but not the same, never the same—bond in the northwest girl, and starts living his life again.

i'm really happy that you liked the robbie section in my other response!! it's definitely the one i was proudest of when writing it, so knowing that it's appreciated just makes me so giddy

and yes!! i love the idea that while gideon's death isn't a good thing by any means, it does bring the rest of them together. they're trying to fill the void that the loss left, and they can never get him back but they can find him in each other. evil thoughts about other characters' deaths and the reactions, but stan is the next to go and that actually brings some of them further apart, in my evil heart i mostly mean that about dipper and mabel, and how that divides the group, but all of them are impacted in some way. it doesn't take another death to bring them together again, that's just cruel, but i like the idea of the group losing their favorite conmen impacting them in different ways.

the idea of the zodiac as a family, as a whole, is one of my favorites. like yes, they've gone through unspeakable horrors, most of them aren't codependent but they still need each other, and eventually begin to function as a family unit no matter how much they try to deny it. specifically about the other members of the antagonist trio, they saw gideon as an annoying little brother, and look towards the people they've begun to see as siblings and parents—in the stead of being only children with bad relationships with their parents—for comfort and guidance. it's all very dear to me.

and augh, just really quick before i send this off, deity!robbie being there to get the rest of them... them not being his, but still caring for them and wanting to fight for them to be together, even in the cold expanse of the void. hearing gideon's laughter and incoherent whispers and knowing that this one's his favorite, but it still needs its family... tearing my heart out, clawing my skin off, etc. etc.

this took a minute longer than i wanted it to because tumblr hates me and i'm trying to redownload my skyrim set-up at the same time (i'm a multi-tasking king, i say, floundering at my desk), but it's here! i'm happy with it! i checked all the points on my bullet list that i wanted to! amazing!

teen gideon headcanons because i love him :] i am constantly thinking about him and how he's the only zodiac member (and honestly, only main-ish character because of the book of bill and the website) that doesn't get a sympathetic moment, other than POSSIBLY the finale but that barely counts

i think he deserves to have a SORT OF redemption, at least internally, because he took dipper's advice in weirdmageddon to heart. even if he gets over his crush on mabel (which i think he does. mom said its my canon now) theres still the truth of "people wont wanna be around you if youre a selfish prick"

anyways he makes me emotional so i'm giving him attention

im scared tumblr will kill the quality on my tiny handwriting so transcription under the cut:

after turning like 15, he just starts traveling, gets out of oregon and hits the ground running

uses my headcanon (?) that the amulet takes years from you, and gideon probably won't live past his 20s

he finds this out, has a total mid-life (literally) crisis at 14-15 and decides to do anything "normal" he can do because he doesn't have long to do it

ofc he still has anger issues and obsesses over people and everything else, but he's a lot better at managing it [than] when he was a kid

he doesn't care if he dies with people still hating him, but he wants it to be known that he tried

[just-another-nerd-blog]

I am. So very tired.

[disorderly]

cluster b culture is just don't make this about yourself don't make this about yourself don't mention yourself don't do it I swear to God don't mention yourself don't please God anyways I did the same thing and you didn't even notice what about me how come you never notice me but expect me to always be paying attention to you why don't you—

[tmwcs]

Fairy Tale Arc - Teaser

Oh, I wonder what the next story could be. Hmm...

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and disappearances (relating to the two previous fairy tale stories.)

“Young girl in the local area is the second to disappear without a trace. Authorities are on high alert and encourage all women to remain at home and avoid traveling alone.” 

You click on the abrupt notification–the article details the two young women who vanished within the last six months. The first girl disappeared while traveling and visiting her grandmother’s house, and another was on her way to a job interview at the library but never made it. The strange occurrences had everyone panicking and adhering to the extreme measures to avoid their daughters from being the next to abruptly disappear. 

“Y/N, take the car and drop your sister off at her friend’s house.” your mother urges. Your younger sister was around the same age as the young girls who had disappeared, so it became understandable why her safety was paramount. Of course you weren’t excluded from concern, however, being that you were older and already on your way to finishing up your college education, it’s presumed that you were in the clear. At least that’s what the authorities stated in their public announcements. 

“Take her, make sure you watch her enter the house before you drive off. Then come right back here, understand?” your mother’s strict orders were firm and left no room for argument. “Fine.” you answered quietly. Running errands and dropping off your younger sibling always came with the same warnings and specific instructions–nothing out of the ordinary. 

The drive wasn’t terribly far–around twenty minutes. Sometimes you wonder why your family decided to reside in the suburbs–so far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been better had they considered moving closer? Considering that both your parents place of employment and your younger sister’s school, it would be so much more convenient had they found a neighborhood much closer. 

“I feel so sorry for that girl–you know?”

Her voice interrupts your thoughts as you delicately come to a stop at the red light. “Are you talking about the one that just disappeared?” 

“Yeah. She was so pretty too, just like the first one.” her voice was soft and tender, and just like those girls, your precious younger sibling couldn’t be excluded from the list of potential victims. No wonder your parents were always so concerned over her staying late for after school activities. With her traditional beauty and delicate frame, she was every kidnapper's dream. 

Pulling up the driveway, you followed your mother’s instructions as ordered. Checking your phone, you send a text out to notify your parents that you both made it at the sleepover, when your sister's phone screen abruptly is placed in front of you, followed by a small giggle.

“What is that?” you sharply questioned, a slight annoyance accompanies your tone. “Isn’t it cute? I took it earlier today.” 

Being the prankster that she was, it was no surprise that you became a pawn in your sister’s line of mischievous acts. “So uncool. Erase that.” 

“Oh come on! I took it because you looked so pretty. You know, everyone always says the same thing–even in high school. Remember all those times you napped during the lunch hour? Everyone always said that you looked so pretty whenever you slept. Guess that’s why they always called you that name, huh?”

You let out a tiring sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” it was true–the nickname stuck with you even all through college when your friends carried the name over. They would always ask you in jest why you slept so often, and you wish you had an answer for them, but you never could come up with one. You don't know why–all your life you just felt so tired. Your pondering thoughts are interrupted once more when you hear your sister thanking you for the ride. 

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty! Thanks for dropping me off! Love you!” 

Taglist: @strxwbloody@nshmrarki@aquariushiiiii@addictedtohobi@nuriicata @lilyuwon