#when u have to throw it out u think its over but then he orders many other similar courtesan's dresses

[syluses]

big girls don’t cry

𓍯𓂃 self aware robot! caleb x female reader

(wc: 9.5k) ✦ summary: after your brother passes, consumed by grief, you take to the internet to order a synthetic version of him. afterward, it’s impossible to throw him out. (or: alternatively titled the trojan horse)

✦ content robot! caleb, past engineer! caleb, au where EVER deals in robotics, non-evol au, 18+ nsfw/smut, mildly dubious consent, angst, grief, mental instability, bad coping mechanisms, robot pseudocest?? robot sex, mind games, moral grayness all around, dark/yandere undertones; this fic can have multiple interpretations, pregnancy

✦ sidenote have yall ever seen that episode of black mirror? ‘be right back’? basically this: the girl’s boyfriend dies so she orders an incredibly realistic, intelligent robot to replace him. they’re identical in personality and appearance, and yet… 👀 ANYWAYS ( ⸍ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ɞ̴̶̷⸌ ) i have a set plot for this in my head, but i left it a lil vague so ur allowed to think of it in ur own way 🤎 if u wanna know the ‘canon’ tho.. u can absolutely ask me. the lore is so deep its traumatizing :,) anyways hope u enjoy <3 ty for 1k btw!! take this as a lil celebration treat 🥳 it took so much out of me but i think i really vibe with it heheh

He’s perfect. Nigh on.

For the first few days since his arrival, since hauling him off the foot of your porch and into your living room to unpack him- heart tickering in your chest all the while, trepidatious- you’ve just stared. Reached out your hands to hover, ghosting over the broad blade of his shoulder, his chapped lips, the slight jut of his cheekbone.

His hands, as big and weathered as you remember them (but gentle, always gentle), hang limply by his sides.

You don’t dare slip your smaller ones in them.

All of the theatrics, yet you don’t press his- its- button, either.

No, you don’t even touch it after the initial unpacking, wrenching your fingers away as soon as they get too close. As soon as they get too tempted by hope and the wish that this hunk of metal was more than just a replica of your late brother. Half of you thinks it might burn if you get too comfortable; and you won’t get comfortable— underneath the solidified layers of grief and- you have trouble saying it aloud, but bitterness- there’s still just enough common sense to keep you from taking the leap. The leap from mourning to insanity.

It’s hollow. You know that much. A nothingness enwrapped in a steely chassis full of wiring and code too technological for you to understand, all covered by a synthetic skin suit as the pretty bow on top.

And you know- what with your emotional state- that if you could peer inside, strip it down to the framework and just… take a moment to look, that you’d vomit. It’d be too much to bear, being forced to reconcile with the fact that he really is gone— and in response to it all, you’ve blown your savings on an eerily-realistic, glorified doll of him with wires for veins.

You’re trembling when you stiffly prop him against the far wall, limiting contact as much as possible, and step away, keeping your eyes on him all the while. It. Not him. Not Caleb- that’s not your fucking brother, just a disgusting, soulless fascimile of him—

But as you stand back on your feet (with the coffee table in between, just in case) to get a good look at him, like a real, proper look, your breath is taken.

The thing: He’s not just a passable carbon copy, you realize. Admittedly, he’s…

Identical.

(He’s Caleb.)

All the oxygen gusts out of you in a breeze.

You lift a shaking hand over your open mouth and choke as silent tears spill from your lashline, blurring your eyes on the way down. Wetting your knuckles as they shake wildly.

You’re crying. Of course you’re crying. This is- you can’t do this. You just can’t.

Racing upstairs, retreating to your bedroom to slam the door as if the devil himself was on your tail, only then do you drop your hand and fully sob.

It’s pitiful, really. Wretched noises that resonate from deep in your throat, your spirit wrecked as you curl up on the floor and make yourself into a ball.

Darkness comes outside, the space around you muting itself in grey colors. The puddle beneath your cheek is moonlit. You sniffle and relocate, but you don’t even bother to tuck the not-Caleb robot in its special container, no- you just settle beneath your blankets and pray it’s all a bad dream you’ll awake from come tomorrow.

Tomorrow: you’ll send him off. Return him.

You don’t care how much money it costs- for all you care, it’s paltry, it’s replaceable. And it is replaceable, that’s the bleak truth: that android stood motionless by your couch, despite having a face so familiar it’s painful, has no emotional value whatsoever. There’s no depth to it. No substance.

A skeleton built by rods. Artificial flesh modeled around thin, colorful cables and circuit boards.

I mean- he’s no better than the stapler on your desk, or the toaster on your kitchen counter. Better yet, a crumb on the floor.

A nothingness, you think again. Prettily encased in smooth, sun-speckled skin and that cottony loungewear (that still retains his smell) you could hardly part with when the online form requested his attire.

He’s perfect, nigh on, you’ll give the company who forged him that much credit, because they sure followed his pictures to a T. It looks just like him; so much so you couldn’t even bear to look at him for more than ten minutes before bolting, the emotional response so violent.

But the problem is that he’s not real. He’s not your Caleb.

✦

It’s hard to throw him away when he looks like that. When he bears the likeness of your late, beloved older brother.

Yes, you want to stuff him back in his box and return to sender, but when it comes to courage, you lack the backbone necessary to carry out your decisions.

You tiptoe down the stairs to see him again and sputter.

He’s too real, you decide in a heartbeat. Too real.

Shutting your eyes as tears begin to pour anew, lunging forward with blind intent to cache him away in the elaborate box he came in, you get to work. And you get to work quickly. You can only bear to look at it- that heartless caricature of your gege- for so long until you feel something in you, your last fragile piece, begin to fracture.

After the explosion, all you had left of him were the memories. Not an explanation, not a goodbye, not even a body. What remained of the boy you were fostered with was ash and a puerile, yet no less beloved locket with its edges burnt copper.

Now, you have something exponentially more physical and intact, unsullied by the reality of what was.

So for a moment, yes- sue you and your heart for hesitating- but it’s a hard task to seal him away.

Agonizing, really.

His arms are stiff by his sides but you feel the skin; the lump of muscle in his forearm, the bump of his elbow. The only thing that keeps you from giving into the puffed-up illusion of his being real and alive is the coolness beneath your fingertips. The unnatural, icy feel to his otherwise mortal skin that reminds in a voice, condescending like all things out of reach, see? that’s not Caleb. And you’re insulting him by thinking that it could be.

You’re halfway done nudging him towards the box (careful, despite your frenzied, fluttering heart; afraid to damage his likeness) when you trip over your own feet navigating the narrow space between your table and the couch.

It’s unthinking, the way you grab him- arms flying out to steady yourself with his broad shoulders.

In all your scrambling- something clicks. Gives under your fingerpad.

A button.

With mute horror, you watch his eyes light.

…And you can see it too, you know, registering in his gaze as it settles over you and takes you in— a blip of mirth that quickly warps into worry at the look you give him. You must appear no different than a deer in headlights.

For several seconds, you simply stand there, your palms clamming up where they dig into his shoulders, and gawk as Caleb— not-Caleb’s— expression turns to one ready to comfort.

Familiar, painfully.

The stiff hands at his side are spurred into motion, lifting to cradle your cheek while the other helps ground you by the small of your back.

“Meimei?”

No, no- don’t say that, don’t say that, internally, you have to shoehorn down all your grief as it bubbles up, and harden your face to keep from crying all over again.

…Although it’s more or less obvious you had been. The puffy eyes rimmed in red, the certain wisp of defeat to your brow and the exhaustion written all over you is clear as day. It leaves nothing to ponder.

He sounds disturbed by it all, the sadness about you that lies thick as a coating of paint. Commiserative to a fault. Lassoing you to his firm chest as he burrows your head below the dip of his chin.

He goes, “What’s wrong?” Then, “It’s okay, I’m here. I got you. Just let it all out.”

And the world around you staggers to a fall.

✦

It was very difficult to get rid of him as he stood still; when you could convince yourself he was just a startlingly realistic statue.

It’s all but impossible when he begins to move, and speak, and smile at you.

You don’t get close enough to press his button. You’re not quite strong enough to apply the distance you probably should, though, so when he takes a step forward, you take one back- but you never run.

It’s a weird limbo you’re caught in. Do you leap into his arms? Do you… Do you toss him out the door, after all? Leave him to the elements to chip away at his body; the rain to erode his fleshy outer shell?

But no. How could you do that? He-

He fucking looks like Caleb. It feels more sinful to rid yourself of him, now that he’s… on, than to indulge a little bit in the idea that he’s still alive and breathing.

If Caleb was still alive, you wonder silently one morning with no small amount of hurt, would he hate you? For whatever the hell it is you’re doing now?

You can’t even blame Gideon, not really. Without his persistent messages, and all the links he sent you of articles revolving androids and how they can help the user cope with grief, you’d have been none the wiser to the concept, sure- but at the end of the day, you made the choice to get one.

A chunk of your savings and an unprompted, fat check from Caleb’s best buddy— you decided to throw that at some futuristic company (well, not ‘some’: both men worked there- albeit they always kept their work very hush (you did catch whispers of a promotion, though, before the accident)) and one of the many services they provide.

Gideon, over the course of some months, was all but pointing you at their website, promising it would help. He’d be there to clear any confusion, in any case; hey, how neat did a walkthrough of the site from a bonafide EVER engineer sound?: Just one of his probes.

It was only two weeks back, however, when he paid an unsolicited house call, wordlessly wrapping you into his broad chest, that you caved to them.

You think about the scene while you sit at the counter and sip from your mug.

Your home smells richly of coffee, just brewed, and bacon as it sizzles. Eyeing not-Caleb with a pang of unease— not fully able to snuff out that feeling of uncanniness even as some days pass peacefully— you offer a small smile when he glances up at you.

Beaming just as he was the day before. Beaming like nothing is terribly wrong.

(To be clear, something is.)

You… can’t help but feel like you’re being monitored when he stares.

Yes, it’s a silly fear, you know that. The company your late brother worked for wasn’t exactly open with all the scientific grounds they made breakthroughs on, but he always promised that their means were lawful. Caleb wasn’t one for lies- so your doubts were soothed. So as hush-hush as EVER is sometimes, you’re fairly confident they wouldn’t ship out mass batches of faulty or otherwise rigged products.

Anyway- you suppose the weird intensity in its eyes isn’t all that off-putting when you take into account the very real personality it was formulated from.

When the pancakes (your favorite: banana chocolate chip; information he apparently already knew) turn an appetizing shade of gold, he shimmies them off the pan with a spatula and onto a plate.

That plate- loaded tastefully with bacon, a scoop of rice, and eggs with a ketchup smile painted over its face- slides before you. But though your belly growls, you don’t eat. Not right away. Wherever the culinary arts are concerned, your older brother has always excelled. Growing up, maybe you even exploited him a little for it- but he never did anything he didn’t want to; sometimes it even seemed like Caleb enjoyed sticking his neck out for you.

He pats his hands over his too-small apron (not that he minds it), frowning.

“What’s wrong, Pipsqueak? Does… Does the food look alright? I haven’t made somethin’ for you in a while, huh…?”

Oh no, the food looks fine.

It’s just that you’re the only one eating it.

And maybe it’d be better to keep that thought to yourself: part of you is just over the moon to have him standing in your kitchen with you after months apart— but it doesn’t matter that you keep your mouth shut, because Caleb reads your mind anyway.

He’s at your side in a blink, hushing away the tears that bead at your eyes out of nowhere.

“Hey, hey… No cryin’, okay? I’m just not hungry this morning, Meimei- but that doesn’t mean I won’t sit with you and talk while you eat. C’mon,” he squeezes your hand where it lies on the counter, smiling lightly.

It takes everything in you not to flinch away from the touch.

“Wouldn’t want your breakfast goin’ cold now, would we?” Pulling out the barstool beside you, he sits.

You don’t ask him to, but Caleb picks up your fork and embodies one of the several memories you have of him spoonfeeding you as a child.

“I can feed you. Just like the good ol’ times. Here, you gotta open your mouth first,” His smile strengthens when your lips, as if by habit, part. Your lashes flutter shut when that first bite touches your tongue- syrupy hotcakes and fluffy scrambled eggs- and for that you’re glad because you don’t have to see the way he marvels at you as you eat.

It’s not good for your heart.

“So? What does Pipsqueak the number one food critic have to say about my dish?” He shines, “Does it taste as good as it looks?” You can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes- the scene too nostalgic to simply idle away with indifference. You wear all your emotions on your face, anyway; you’re not fooling anybody, least of all Caleb.

“Even better,” you murmur with the barest of smiles. He presses another spoonful to your lips and you giggle.

Violet hues glitter with delight. You’ve said practically nothing to him this whole time, and he’s been patient- weirdly patient, almost- but the joy in his gaze is palpable now.

Sometimes, though, you can almost swear you see something in his gaze shift. Tuning itself like a lens. He blinks and it disappears.

“…But I will say your presentation could use some work. It’s a 7 out of 10.”

Caleb, still holding the utensil out, uses his other hand to prop his chin up. He smiles fondly as he regards you. As you’ve gotten older, it’s like every time you see the brunet, he looks at you like he’s taking you in for the first time all over again.

“Yeah?” He encourages. “Enlighten me, oh Pipsqueak- what must I do to earn those three extra points?”

“The ketchup smiley face was all lopsided,” you explain in a quiet voice, having a hard time fully immersing in this lie unraveling before you; beautiful as it is. As much as you might ache to.

This isn’t a good idea. You know that.

Still…

Maybe… maybe just a couple of conversations with him can’t be too bad, right? I mean, it’s only a fraction of what Gideon was expecting of you (lounging around together to chat, game nights, and even public outings), but to him, it’d be a start. For you, though, it’s a stretch. An exception.

You should limit interaction with not-Caleb.

You know this, and yet—

Glancing back to him, you try and fail to hide a coy smile with a napkin. “Next time, keep a steady hand, and you’ll be a perfect chef in no time. Maybe not as good as me, but, y’know…”

He chuckles, brows lifting. “Oh yeah? Then expect surgical precision from me tomorrow morning. Chef Caleb won’t let you down again!”

An intense sadness slips through the momentary happiness you were allowed. It nags at your chest.

You blink rapidly, giving a feeble, light sound before looking away.

You’ve never let me down, Gege, you don’t say, taking your fork from the clasp of his big hand (much to his dismay) to prod at your plate.

It was me who failed you.

✦

Not-Caleb looks like Caleb, yes.

He acts like him, too.

You spend the span of the next few weeks trying to scrutinize him; hours spent on the couch, his hand in yours while you grill him. You treat him like a bug under a microscope. Prodding for answers to questions you’re sure his programming must miss- interrogations built on memories so old they’re near ancient. Just blurry wisps in your mind.

Not-Caleb remembers some better than you.

Puts you to shame with his mechanical replies detailing scenarios you’re missing fragments of.

What’s Caleb’s favorite fruit?

I like apples, Pipsqueak.

And what’s my favorite food he’d make for me?

Easy-peasy. You still love those boneless chicken wings, don’t you? Although, that braised pork I make for you comes as a close second, doesn’t it?

Am I your real sister?

And you’d never ask the real Caleb such a thing. You’re only doing it now because it’s one of the most personal things you could possibly make a query of. His response would be very telling.

Life before you met him all those years ago is no more than a fuzzy glimpse, and you never minded all that much: so long as you had Caleb, nothing else, nothing before, mattered. All throughout your childhood, people didn’t know the difference anyway.

Far as they knew, you were family.

Which… isn’t wrong, per se— but it’s not biological. ‘Real.’

You, Caleb, and Gran were obviously aware of that. To you it was always a beautiful thing: a tale of rebirth, in a way, or a second chance, as a young girl found a new place to call home with a warm guardian and a brotherly figure. They’d stabilize her and bring warmth to an otherwise cold beginning.

Caleb was never spoken for on that front.

You… didn’t see eye to eye on all things. Oh, that much is true.

Sometimes you were convinced that he wanted nothing to do with the assumption that you were his little sister (albeit, you were never sure why). At others, it was like he was furious you were only bound to him in name and not blood. He saw it as an attack on your close bond.

…But Not-Caleb surely doesn’t know all his nuances. Not like you came to.

So you’re expecting a pause. A minor glitch or even a malfunction as the robot scours his database.

Got him, you almost think to yourself— then swiftly take it back.

The face of the android sat at your side falls, much to your surprise, into a small frown.

And the truth must be coded deep in the bulwarks of not-Caleb’s artificial brain: your and Caleb’s respective origins. The answer is no. No, you’re not his real sister.

…But your real Gege would lie and say yes, absolutely you are—

“‘Course you are,” Not-Caleb goes. And he does it with as much passion behind it as you’d expect.

You’re startled into silence.

He scoots impossibly closer and loops an arm over your shoulder, tucking your head to his jaw. Seamlessly, he pecks your hairline, saying, “You’re my sweet little Meimei. You’re priceless to me. Now no more pickin’ at me, okay?” He suggests in a light tone, rubbing your shoulder. “You’ve been questioning me all evening- look, it even got dark out. Let’s get you to bed-“

“I- I didn’t say I was tired-“

“You didn’t have to. I could tell you were startin’ to get sleepy, Pipsqueak,” he looks down at you and smiles- a reassuring, yet no less playful smile- and for one moment you cant breathe because fuck it’s him. It’s really, really him. “Your drooping eyes were a dead giveaway. Hm... I guess that big dinner we had put you in a food coma, huh?” He chuckles.

We. Funny, that. You recall the feast being one-sided.

Nonetheless.

Without prompting, he sweeps you off the couch and walks you up the wooden stairway. The old steps creak underfoot. He does it all effortlessly, though, arms as strong and capable as you remember.

You loop your slimmer ones around his neck.

With great hesitance, you lend a part of yourself to this illusion.

This beautiful, near unbelievable, oh-so fragile illusion that Caleb is not dead.

When you reach your bedroom, you don’t send him off to the guest room like all the nights before. No, when he carefully sets you down, you watch him, motionlessly, as he tucks you in and plants a chaste kiss to your forehead. When he turns to go- “don’t let the bed bugs bite”- you snatch his hand, half terrified you’ll blink and he’ll be gone, and flash him a look that silently pleads.

Stay.

The brunet’s lashes flutter, brushing over his cheekbones where the lamplight makes them shine.

He opens his mouth.

Pauses, then closes it.

“Stay. Please, Gege,” you breathe, on the cusp of shattering all over again. It’s become more manageable over recent days, this unresolved cluster of emotion inside you, but it’s times like these that make you feel blindsided by it.

You innocently add, “Like when we were kids.”

Oh, you’d go back to then if you could.

His long fingers, loose in your hold, flip to swallow up your hand. He stoops over to turn off the light.

His voice shakes ever so slightly, “Okay.”

Then, he clambers into bed with you and reminds you of just how small it is, how much he does not belong, but you’ve never felt more at home when he pulls you to his chest and- dutifully ignoring the quiet beneath your ear, the absence of a pulse- you cling to him.

Maybe it’d be a little weird, the proximity, what with your grown age and the fact that you were no longer children cuddling during thunderstorms…

It’s not like you’re hanging off him like he’s your lifeline for any nefarious reason, though- and it’s not like he can hold any judgment anyway. He’s… He’s not really Caleb. He’s not even a person. Just a sentient robot that resembles him to a shocking degree and soothes that ache in your chest- just by a smidge.

…And yet when he looks at you, suddenly, tilting your jaw up so he can admire what he sees in the darkness- your stunned expression lit faintly by the moon- it’s like he’s reading this in his own way.

His interpretation? you realize in a shaking breath?

He’s no longer holding his little sister, but a woman.

It’s in his eyes, rippling as he exhales deeply (all artificial, albeit you don’t dwell on that for long) and thumbs over your lip.

A boyish kind of wonder lifts his brow as he stares, cheeks slightly flushed.

Your heart bangs in your chest. Like gunshots punctuating the silence. It grows to be unbearable. This is weird, and wrong- the way he’s looking at you. But you quickly chalk it up to a malfunction.

It’s all a fluke, technology fucking up in a way that reminds you of humanity’s shortcomings and how far they can only go.

Finally, you’ve found the fault in its design. The place where Caleb and not-Caleb differ.

You know your beloved older brother like the back of your own hand, so when his eyes flutter (flash, almost) and he lurches forward to clumsily press his lips to yours— you label the action for what it really is.

An inaccuracy.

Perhaps, you think as you close your bleared eyes and let him, the only. Because the rest of his program is perfect. Infallible.

The scene unfurling is foreign- his big hands cupping your cheeks as he kisses you like his life depends on it- but as he shifts you beneath him and hovers atop, that signature softness remains. Really, as his fingertips reach for your shorts—

(A blip of something mechanical in its fiery gaze, almost as if it’s trying to rectify itself; the shortest of pauses—)

It’s all that grounds you.

“Caleb,” you moan, or cry. You don’t know. Just that when he helps you out of your panties to go down on you, digits delving inside your tight hole after he wets it with his tongue, your heart sings for him.

You don’t push him away. No, even as the humanoid sullies your late brother’s image with all his sinful hungering, you can’t break yourself free. Never find it in you to.

Because it doesn’t matter what he treats you as. You realize belatedly, with no small amount of horror, that you don’t even care how many flaws Not-Caleb has. He could have a million for all you care, you’re already too far gone- writhing underneath him as he holds your legs open and feasts- to pretend you have any right to feel offended.

And if the real Caleb was here, he’d hate you: an echo in your skull, sneering. He should, but-

“There, Meimei, ngh…” a hot tongue (no longer as cold as he was in stasis) laves along your folds. Mauve eyes look up to you with reverence, glittering in the dark.

“Just like that. Moan, say my name- I’ve been waiting for this for so long…”

You wear ignorance like a blindfold. Shutting your eyes and ears.

A fluke. His hardware stalling.

His hair woven in your fingers feels like velvet. Soft, silky; hanging over his brow as he eats you out- skillfully, might you add. Albeit his passion wins out by just a touch against his expertise, clumsily plunging his two middle fingers into your pussy.

“You taste so good, so sweet- mmph- I’ll take care of you, okay?” He mumbles in between lewd squelches.

In both physical and moral terms, there is not one thing about this that isn’t filthy.

Y-You know that, but…

“Don’t worry. I’ll- ah- I’ll make sure you feel real nice. I’ll make you come as many times as you want. I’ve been… dreamin’ of this for years now… I won’t mess this up, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes until you’re shaking.”

-but this is all you have left of him.

Hazily, you glance down to him, cheeks aflame, and barely succeed in asking, “C-Caleb- h-how are you even gonna-? You-“ you choke on the words you need to say. With a mite of dry humor, you think right then that you’re short-circuiting just as bad as him (because he is).

“Are you capable of it?”

Of fucking you? Of pinning you down and throwing your ankles over his shoulders to better plow you into your creaking, old mattress?

His brow twitches slightly. Voice ragged, he makes an agreeable sound, pressing a kiss to your clit so adoring it’s almost funny when his finger bends sensually inside you. “Are you doubting my abilities, Meimei? I’ll have you know I’ve been practicing this moment in my head for—“

No. You slam your eyes shut and drown it all out.

His words become a white noise. No different than the steady whir of the air conditioning as a cool breeze gusts beneath your door, cooling your forehead where it beads with sweat.

A- A glitch, you quietly decide. Even long after he’s made you cum thrice (twice on his fingers and tongue, once on his thick, flushed cock), you hold staunch to that.

It’s all just a fluke.

✦

When the sun rises, you wake with a start to a phone ringing- yours- and swallow a lump of unease at the figure lying beside you (your Gege, a voice in your head reminds: you silence it).

Prying off the solid arm around your waist to gingerly exit the room- still half-naked- you piously ignore the cum caked to the inside of your thighs. Yours, it must be. You don’t focus on the confusion, either, the ask of just how the hell last night was possible and why you let your emotions get ahold of you.

(Because you love him. And maybe, just maybe- in your own weird, admittedly morally-grey way- you can cobble together a sense of normalcy with him. At least just for a little bit...)

As you head to the living room downstairs, you tap your phone and lift it to your ear.

“G-Gran,” you say as greeting, smoothing your hair back, still quite ruffled over… recent events. Ruffled and ashamed.

Very.

But- while he looks like Caleb, he’s not in reality. That… malfunction last night is a blatant proof of that. You only got on your back and let him have his way with you because you’ve missed his touch so much that you’d quite literally accept it in any form.

If sex or his lips battling against yours- his whispered vows, as seemingly heartfelt as they were errant to Caleb’s true character- is all you’ll get of him, then so be it.

In your own way, messed up as it is, it’s almost like with his android, you get a chance to reconcile with the loss.

To say goodbye.

Because before that package arrived at your doorstep, you didn’t have the luxury of one.

A familiar, aged voice sounds over the line. “Hey, dearie, oh- I didn’t wake you, did I? You sound tired.” She’s one to talk, you think to yourself- but not with malice. Truth be told you’ve worried for her as of late.

It’s been lonely for you both, you’re sure, but even though she only lives on the other end of Linkon, you have trouble making the drive. You haven’t dropped by in a couple weeks.

There’s a few different reasons.

It’s hard to pretend you’re fine when you’re not, for one, that what happened with Caleb- the abruptness and lack of conclusion, the confusing aftermath of it all- never did. You try your best to plaster on a smile and be strong in your grandmother’s presence, but that’s easier said than done. Especially when that old house of hers is jam-packed with photos and tokens of your past with him— painful reminders whenever you do visit.

The newest excuse for not is guilt.

Frankly, Gideon is the only one who knows what’s going on. Hah- no surprise, being he was the main reason for your even ordering not-Caleb.

But Gran doesn’t know.

You haven’t told her about him. And after last night, what with your own release still dried to your legs (which wobble slightly; he was every bit passionate and then some), you don’t think you ever will.

She might actually slap you across the face, taking your willingness to believe in such a lie as an offense against her grandson’s vibrant character.

…If she found out what happened- that you opened your legs for him and moaned- she might go into cardiac arrest.

You didn’t… want that to happen, definitely not- I mean, you didn’t even have the time to prepare. But yes, you did let it.

And curse yourself for wanting your brother back, but—

“No, it’s fine, Gran,” you glance over your shoulder to the staircase. Finding it empty, you let out a breath. “Is something wrong? It’s… It’s early.”

—you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel a little fucking blissful to wake up to his face again, just like back when you were inseparable kids.

She sighs on the other end, “no, no,” she starts. You think you hear a TV in the background; something to fill the silence you leave her to sit in. “Nothing’s wrong, my dear. I just… I haven’t seen you in a bit. I miss your face, Y/n. How are you doing?”

Like a dart to a board, guilt lands its mark.

You shouldn’t fluster at such a simple question, but you do. Not just because it’s so direct and genuine, but because a big hand rests over your shoulder and suddenly Caleb is there, standing behind you.

You straighten up from where you’re propped against the wall and quickly lift a hand to silence any words he may speak.

“I-I’m well, Gran. Sorry, just- I’ll visit soon, I promise.”

“I’d like that,” she murmurs. You’re aware of how much she means it and close your eyes with a wince. A broad palm, as if sensing your inner turmoil, rubs your shoulder soothingly.

You rub the bridge of your nose and don’t look.

“What’s… What’s been keeping you?” She broaches after a beat. Laughter from the television fades in and out over the speaker.

For a second, you freeze. You freeze because you fear she might know.

All for naught: “You’re getting enough sleep, right? I don’t want you overworking yourself. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind, sweetie- oh, God knows we’ve both suffered all these months without Caleb, but that’s no reason for us to fall apart either-”

You sigh shakily and bite down on a cry.

“Yeah, I know. But I’ve been better, Gran, okay? I…” Shiftily, you wet your bottom lip and give a half truth- as if that can relieve you of this weight. “I was talking with Gideon a little; he’s…. he helped me.”

She sounds pleasantly surprised. “Oh? Good, good. What about?”

Nosy as ever. Not that you’re complaining. It’s good to know someone cares- someone… real.

You swallow your unease. “He was just talking to me about his job and stuff. EVER... He told me he was finally getting that raise or whatever, so he’s doing well... I- I was prying per usual,” you joke to lighten the mood, “He, uh… he tells me more than Caleb ever did, so…” (And when his name started to feel like a sin to say, you don’t know.) “So, you know. I was just curious. He was checking in on me, too…”

Warm breath fans at your ear, fingers closing around your shoulder as he peppers kisses at your neck insistently- and you shudder. Clasping the phone tighter (because it suddenly feels unstable in your hands), you shrug off (not)Caleb for just long enough to say,

“Gran- I- I gotta go. Uh- someone else is calling me,” and to preclude any probing on her end- or extra guilt on yours- you add, “I’ll visit tomorrow, okay? I promise. I’ll- I’ll be there. I love you.”

A voice timidly mirrors it back, and then a big set of hands is taking the phone from you and ending the call.

You turn to him with a notch in your brow as he pockets it in the sweats he must’ve hastily thrown on after finding the bed empty.

“Caleb-“

You start, and his lips press to yours.

With some encouragement- hushing you between kisses, knuckling down your cheek affectionately- he shepherds you back upstairs, to your room.

“Nuh-uh, just let me take care of you, pretty girl, ‘kay?” He murmurs, smiling. You could die in peace to it, you think hazily as he lies you down— because the last mental screenshot you took of him before the accident was his handsome face crestfallen after you’d said something scathing.

To your defense, at the time, you thought he’d deserved it. Maybe he did. It’s hard to remember, but whatever the argument was about, it must’ve been stupid. Not worth it.

And… he’s not Caleb, he’s not, you know that, but…

“Lie back. It’s… It’s just you and me here. I want you to know that. And everyone else-“

(Gran, you realize he must mean; Gideon and all the other familiar and unfamiliar faces both at EVER.)

“None of it matters now. Just focus on me. On Caleb.”

(And how eerie is that? You muse with a whit of your rationale. The rest, as it withers, perhaps only does so for the sake of your own sanity.)

The whole world as it stands: nudged away to oblivion at his behest.

“O-Okay,” you give.

He’s not Caleb. But if this is your best- only- shot at reconciliation, then you’ll take him with arms open.

…

When he’s done priming you, he clambers on top and you experience a repeat of last night.

Deja vu, as fresh as a wound reopened, makes your mind lag a few increments behind reality. But when he starts to slow down, thrusts growing sloppy- it feels oddly real, and, head a bit clearer than last night, you register that.

…But it’s your release that stains the sheets. Steadily trickling from your hole, slicking his hips. It only makes sense that way; he might fuck like a human, but that’s all inherent to his program, you’re sure, built to please- and ultimately, he’s made of metal. Rods. You think you can feel them when you grab too tight, that hardness.

He leads you to the proverbial end of the cliff, and you survey the bottom one last time before- geronimo- you make that final leap.

When not-Caleb comes, he shudders in your arms.

Yet you swear… You swear something inside him, behind his lidded eyes, deeper in-

It’s like it shutters.

A flash. Brief and jarring, for a moment so bright it’s like your eyes have been virginal to light all along.

Just a malfunction, you decide with a spent sigh, sweaty in his solid arms as they make a cage around you, eager to sleep until noon.

Maybe you’ll mention it to Gideon next time he drops by.

Maybe he would know how to fix it.

✦

The days that follow after are foggy and empty. Like a moratorium of everything that once breathed in your life.

You wreathe not-Caleb’s neck with that beloved apple-shaped locket like he’s earned it.

Knowing nobody ever could.

✦

Gideon knocks, one afternoon.

You send him away. Or- Caleb does.

At that, you feel the need to remind him of who he is: the people he cares for, his career path, how he operated as a person before the incident in his suite in Skyhaven.

Caleb stops you short, a palm dwarfing the back of your own, and says I know. I just don’t want my buddy interrupting our time together, Pipsqueak. Can you blame me for wantin’ it to be just you and me?

You stop going out.

He doesn’t let you- not really. I mean, he doesn’t explicitly declare these rules over you, but it’s in the strange glint in his eye- the one that makes you shut your mouth and purse your lips- when he stops you at the door and suggests you stay.

Says it’s better that way. Says he worries whenever you go. Says to take him with you instead if you really must.

Progressively, you’re drifting farther and farther out from shore. Mentally-speaking, you’re going off the deep end. But exiting your house hand-in-hand with your brother- the man the town declared dead in an email you couldn’t bear to finish reading- as he stares at you like a lover, is, no matter the ache, something you can’t quite bring yourself to do.

It’d make this illusion just a smidgen realer. You’d never wake from this dream if other people saw it- saw him- and therefore made his presence more solid in your mind. (Not to mention the disgusting assumptions they’d make- none exactly wrong.)

You’ve been so consumed by grief lately, though, that the knowing of your imminent breakdown can’t stop you from making other bad choices.

So when the brunet altogether bars you from going out in public for the fear that something bad will happen to you (nonsensical; not that he sees the flaws in his arguments), insisting that groceries can be bought online, Gran can be checked up on over the phone, etcetera—

Yeah, you bend to it, alright? Sue you. Of course you bend. It’s all you know what to do anymore.

Gradually, though, the unexpected charm of not-Caleb begins to fade, and you’re left with a possessive form of the brother you once knew. A man desperately clawing at straws, hellbent to keep you at his side, clingy and insecure and, frankly, sometimes scary.

As the inaccuracies build, you’re not sure for how much longer you can overlook them.

The only reason you even tolerated him originally was because he was passable. More than that, even- he was perfect. A dead-ringer for Caleb in both appearance and personality.

But this-

This isn’t Caleb. No longer. It never was.

You don’t believe it for a second.

You heave a soft sigh. Anything louder than a breath brings the chance that he’ll overhear from where he stands in the kitchen and come zipping over, no doubt ready to fret and question you. If you value your time alone- rare as it is these days- then you’ll stay silent.

It’s a near impossible task to separate yourself from him. It was a small miracle in itself that you managed to break away for half an hour or so- but even that was begat by a lie. It seems the only real way to rid yourself of the overly doting, obsessive older brother (even if just for a few minutes) is to give him another demand. This time, it was an ‘I’m hungry’ that finally earned you some peace and quiet.

It’s a little sad, but lately you treat him more or less like a jacket after entering a warm home: you’re eager to shrug him off because the climate has changed.

The climate has changed.

He- He’s changed.

He’s growingly insane and yes, while the irony of that observation isn’t lost on you (considering you’re the mad woman who bought a human-like robot as a replacement in the first place), you still can’t help but feel alarmed as the signs of wrongness don’t cease but worsen.

You think about pressing the button. Turning him off, sending him away.

Hell, maybe you’d just dump him in the communal trash receptacles out back. Leave him there in a human-shaped bag for the garbage men to come and squint at before hauling away like junk.

…Because he is junk, right? No different than a crumb on the floor, you’d once said.

Perhaps you’ve lost it.

The section of your brain responsible for caring must’ve shut off, though, because it’s currently hard to feel much of anything.

…But there, like a soft stirring (or the voice of God as it whispered to Elijah)- you can sense it. That feeling is reminiscent of a survival instinct, or a watered-down version of it to tired nerves, breathing down the back of your neck where hackles rise—

What are you doing here?

The dream begins to fissure in real-time when Caleb (not-Caleb, you harshly remind yourself) cheerfully patters into the living room where you sit, helpful as ever, and his eye flashes as it settles on you. No different than a camera would.

The food looks delicious, per usual- you’d expect nothing less of your brother or even the robotic copy of him- but as nausea churns in your belly and you jolt upright, slapping a hand over your mouth as you run to the bathroom, nothing can save your appetite.

You shakily lock the door- but he’s knocking in an instant, worried.

You always did melt at his bleeding heart. Too often, men, especially the bigger of them, fell under the persuasion of apathy. Yet your gege was always different, always sweet, always gentle and patient and- yeah, okay, sometimes he was a touch mean, teasing to a fault- sometimes to the point of tears on your end as he quickly tried to right his wrongs- but he was preciously yours.

And he was real.

Dammit, he was fucking real-

He was alive and emotionally tangible in a way that this awful fucking hunk of metal is not and never will be—

“Pipsqueak-? Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Let me in. A-Are you not feeling well?” His words crack when you say nothing, dutifully ignoring him.

“Y/n… Let me in. Please-! don’t leave me alone, don’t go.” His voice becomes ragged, raw, the longer you don’t answer. Boyish in its vulnerability. “Stay- Stay here with me.”

By God your soul splinters down the middle. But you don’t answer. You- You can’t.

You throw your lunch up in the toilet and then your back against the wall, sliding down it with your hands over your ears like a child.

You don’t care, if he’s shouting and beating at the door, on the brink of hysteria like you’ve heard only once or twice when he was a boy too soft for his own good- you don’t care- you don’t care—

You sit there until he short-circuits out and thuds to the floor.

You flinch when he does.

Only then, however, do you tiptoe out- careful lest you trigger some internal response from him- to quickly pull on a hoodie and put your hair up, locking the front door behind you.

You don’t know for how long he’ll be conked out, but if luck is on your side, it’ll be for long enough to run to the local corner store and buy a pregnancy test.

You know you’re losing it, the little sanity you had left after your brother passed— misreading a common cold for a veritable child swelling in your womb.

It’s laughable: using your sleeve (another old piece of his clothing you ‘borrowed’, never to be returned) to dot away the tears at your lashline, you do laugh on the short trek to the convenience store.

But if not a reminder that you really are going crazy, losing control, then at least it’s just an opportunity to get some fresh air for a bit, right?

(…You also know that the first step to regaining back said control is to say goodbye to not-Caleb.

As it stands, though, you’re just-

You were never ready.)

✦

Two pink lines.

The thing clatters to the bathroom floor, and you along with it.

You sink to your knees and the white walls surrounding you feel more like an asylum than a space in your own house- because yes, you must be delusional. This is the final nail in the coffin.

But this- this can’t be right. It’s impossible. In the strictest sense of the word it’s impossible!

Heavy feet traipse in the kitchen; the livingroom; the hall, searching for you with faint, candied beckons of your name.

You rub your face as if to feel the color as it seeps from your complexion, and tell yourself that you’ve positively lost it as you thoughtlessly choose one of the corners to slump into, hyperventilating.

You’ll- you’ll send it back to EVER... You’ll send it back and forget and move on. You’ll move on. You’ll stop grieving, you’ll squirrel away your fraying, final memories of Caleb like you did all those precious photos in that old shoebox in your closet.

You’ll-…

A breath. The fan whirs.

The faucet, going full-blast, sputters, effectively drowning out the sounds you make as air becomes a tricky thing to intake; thick enough to choke on.

You’ll throw yourself into the fifth stage of grief then crawl out the other side of it if that’s what it takes to undo this fucking reality you’re lost in-

“Pipsqueak?” A hand on your shoulder.

Broad, big. A little weathered.

But gentle always. Gentle always. Just like you remember. Just like when Caleb meant Caleb; not the big glorified toy that walks and acts like him as an admittedly convincing, yet ultimately faux locum.

Your heart stills, hanging pendant in your chest. You swing from that uncertainty. By God you’d beat that handsome face in- oh, but by God would you kiss it, too.

The door sways on its hinge by splintered fragments, creaking behind the brunet.

Timidly, you lift your head over your shoulder to meet his eye where he towers behind you, violet hues softening with concern. They drift lower, honing in on the little item by your knee, wayward.

He coos immediately, enveloping you in his strong arms.

The feeling- it’s not exactly like that of the one you’d get while swimming in a hot tub, engulfed in its steaming waters, but it’s not too far off either. You let him hold you, unseeing as he all but sings in your ear, and restore the warmth to your bones.

Like a dead thing, or prey, you hang limp in his firm grasp. Terribly uncertain.

“Shh…” he croons, and you only realize a belated moment later that you’re crying. Hard and ugly.

He pets down your hair, ever the comforter, and as you press your head against his barrel chest it’s almost like you can hear a faint whirring in lieu of a heartbeat- speedy but low.

Unreal. Unreal. But then how-?

Perhaps you’ve lost it.

“We’ll figure it out together, honey,” you think it’s a barely concealed smile you register at the crown of your head, pasting down a kiss. “But no more cryin’, okay? I can’t stand to see you like this… Let me draw you a bath, hm? I’ll light some candles and we can talk about it. But don’t be scared. This is… such good news,” and then he laughs- a boyish, marveling little laugh that digs deep into your heart and twists.

The button, between his breastbone, just out of reach, glows faintly through his shirt.

For a moment you’re ready to press it like a player would on a game show— with urgency— but you blink and see those two pink lines searing themselves into your conscience.

Defeatedly, you shut your eyes. But you don’t shut him off.

✦

With Caleb preparing dinner, you’re able to slip away one evening for long enough to call Gran.

For worried friends and relatives, your voicemail box is becoming quite the hotbed- but among them, your grandmother is the priority.

Propping yourself by the sliding glass door, you brush back the curtain and look out to the small, cookie-cutter yard as you accept the call. Not without a shaky breath to prepare you, though; it’s been over a month since your last visit, and while your calls haven’t been quite as behind, you still wince a bit every time her contact pops up.

You want to tell her.

If not about Caleb, then at least the small bump forming beneath your oversized lounge shirt. There’s excuses for it- ones to be frowned upon, yes, but they’d be believable nonetheless. Obviously, a pregnancy is not something as simple to hide as a robot you can turn on and off and, if needed, stuff in the coat closet until the coast is clear.

You want to tell her. But-

You purse your lips, answering, “Hey Gran.”

The tone of her voice, frazzled and barely holding together, sends a chill down your spine.

“Y/n- where have you been? Is everything okay? I’ve been- I’ve been calling all afternoon.”

You digest that information with a quirk of your brow, scanning across the lawn outside, and a thick swallow.

There’s the voicemails, sure; it was only two nights ago you were poring over them all and holding back tears of guilt. But this afternoon? It was quiet- almost blissfully so, spent curled up to Caleb’s chest on the sofa as you watched an old favorite movie and he happily fed you fruit-flavored candies from his hand every so often.

Nobody called, let alone multiple times. You’re sure of it.

“Gran- what? No, I’m fine. What’s wrong?” You start, tossing a nervous glance behind you, internally grateful that Caleb’s absent humming while he chopped veggies was too distant for the phone to pick up.

She blusters out, apropos of nothing, “Is he there with you?”

Something in you stills.

“Y/n- is he there with you?”

An abnormal rush of blood to your ears and a murmur of your heart as you stand confused. The fingers curled around your phone case jitter.

You hold it closer to your ear.

“What? What are you talking about? I-Is who here with me?”

Does she- There’s no fucking chance- does she know?

How?

Chest thumping, your pulse fluttering in the column of your throat as it bobs uncertainly, you begin to wonder to yourself if this is the time you come clean, lay all your sins out like cards on a table. Make the confession.

Push has come to shove, you think. And fuck if you know where all this is coming from on her end, if Gideon told her or she just miraculously put two and two together or-

An exhale on her end, shaking on its way out.

“Were you not told? Dear-“ she broaches, louder, more firm— and this is just milliseconds before the world as you know it- the one you freed of your hands and let reshape itself around a delicate delusion- buckles at the knees. It’s right before you do, too.

“They found him. They found Caleb.”

That breath, right afterward of her telling you, is like the first one after drowning.

Your eyes widen as you break the surface.

His- His body. The tinny footage they dredged up from the area showed he entered his home, but after the explosion, there was no sign of him, no ash no corpse no nothing— So you don’t know how the hell they managed to recover his pieces, let alone after they already ran clean-up crews through the charred infrastructure and hosed it down- but you’re hysterical at the news.

You were cruelly forced, all along, to just assume he’d been burned to nothingness.

So you don’t even care about the how. How it’s possible or how this is happening after several months of white noise and hurting on your end— you don’t care.

You were made to come to terms with his death, and you did, at most, acknowledge it- but evidently, you could never quite accept it.

…If this is your final chance to say goodbye- even if it just means peering over a metal table in the morgue as he lies disheveled, hardly recognizable under a sheet- so fucking be it.

You’ll say goodbye if it kills you.

“What-? Where- where?” Your tone reflects as much, urgent as you stagger over to the sofa, nearly tripping as you reach for the jacket slung over the arm.

“I-Im coming,” you croak out, words failing you as the velvety carpet feels like mud beneath your bare feet- hard to walk across, every step making you feel like a baby taking its first ones.

One second you’re navigating a truth so unbelievable it’s near violent as it barrels into you; in the next, you’re collapsing under the weight of it, too caught up in your own scrambling for your keys and the door to even think of not-Caleb.

Gran goes to timidly say something, but your ears are shot and you quickly interject, “Let me get dressed- I-I’ll be there! Is he at the morgue?”

“Oh, no, honey,” she quavers out, “He’s alive. The town just messaged me; they made a mistake with his death certificate- they’re revoking it as we speak. He’s in Skyhaven.”

The phone drops to the floor.

And then that, too, gives way beneath you.

…It’s good a helping hand is there for you, then. Shouldering your weight without prompting- fretful as he confiscates the device, no different than a teacher with an unruly student, swiftly disconnecting the call.

It tuts in your ear, but- more sober than you’ve ever been- you can only note the sympathy practically dripping from its tone for what it really is: the upshot of its near immaculate programming as it mimics your considerate gege to a T.

Not-Caleb noses against your nape and sighs.

Mutely, you wind a hand, tottering, uncoordinated fingers and all, behind your back to grope along his chest—

He easily gathers both your wrists in his palm, “hey now,” turning you around. He lifts your knuckles up for a chaste kiss, watching you intently all the while.

A cold weight settles over you, soaking you through like meat left overnight to marinate. From the kitchen, stirfry sizzles in the pan. A few moments more of it and the smoke detectors will fire off.

…He just leans in to peck your forehead though, deaf to the sirens you hear wailing in your head, having mastered the art of playing dumb long ago.

He murmurs, as cloying as cake frosting, “C’mon, Pipsqueak, let’s go eat. Dinner’ll be done in just a sec. I made one of your favorites. After that, we can sit around the couch and brainstorm some more names for the baby- what d’you think?”

Flukes, malfunctions, glitches— no; Not-Caleb, you realize right then, ceasing to blink as you stare at its prototype through the shifting lens head-on, was never flawed.

“…But you’re not leavin’, not to him.”

The real one was.

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, + 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 ♡

[bugdoppio]

HEADCANON DROP HI HELLO (ignore how i accidentally switched pete and josh's position i drew this in school without my phone okay. forgive me)

BILL !!

hes the level of white that his face gets actually red when hes rlly angry

worst acne out of all of the club plus probably has a bald spot on his head from how stressed out he is all the time

surprisingly his hair is the cleanest out of all of them because his mom forces him to take baths frequently (hates her for it) -> weirdly that does not stop him from smelling like shit so

has VERY bad myopia (short sighted)

absolutely awful posture. pack it up hunchback of notre dame

has very bad lactose intolerance but does NOT stop him

i like to think maybe it was his dad who introduced him to comics and nerdy stuff and they really bonded over that so he resents his mother a lot for "taking his dad away from him" when they had the divorce

NOT a reader at all, only reads books that dont have pictures on them if its for school, otherwise he does NOT touch that shit

has a surprisingly good singing voice but the talents wasted because he doesnt like music at all

very very VERY closeted bisexual would rather die than admit he feels a little something when looking at pretty men

has a habit of biting himself when he's frustrated

has arachnophobia so bad to the point it's actually funny. if u tell him theres a spider on his shoulder he will scream so loudly and freak out and not speak to u for a week when he realizes u were lying

his bones are really easy to break for some reason? shove him the tiniest bit hard he will break something when he falls on the ground

i feel like he'd have a peanut allergy. no i will not elaborate

judges really hard whenever someone gets a very complicated coffee order but cannot handle a singular sip of black coffee. spits it out immediately

brags about being the oldest of all of them when its like. him and josh are less than a month apart

very very low pain tolerance will be so dramatic over every tiny papercut

umm umm something something npd and ocd because oomf said so

last one of the club to grow facial hair

hates HATES pda but is so clingy in private its insane

chews on every pen or pencil he owns. beaver ass

has really really dry lips to the point his doctor told him to regularly put on chapstick but he never does it because he "feels gay" doing it, lips get cracked and bloody every time the weather gets a little dryer than usual

always wears long sleeved shirts or jackets over t-shirts because he hates how his arms look (theyre very skinny. bro cannot throw a hard hitting punch or lift a mildly heavy object for his life)

cannot peel any fruit. ever.

never got his drivers license. even in epilogue he has to take cabs everywhere

also epilogue i feel like he'd have a little bit of a drinking problem maybe

JOSH !!

very very greasy curly hair that has so much frizz. CANNOT be brushed dry ever or itll puff up ljke a pomeranian

probably started growing a neckbeard before any real facial hair but he gets self conscious about it so shaves it -> gives up shaving it in epilogue and his real beard started to grow

his weight isnt that much his fault its more of a genetic thing tbh -> tried working out to see if he lost weight once but when his fat didnt immediately turn into muscle in like. a week. he gave up

his mom probably got him to do piano or violin classes and when the club went to a recital to make fun of him they were like. a little impressed cuz he was not bad at all tbh -> probably tried to audition to school band or somethibg? but immediately shouted FUCK the second he got a note wrong and got kicked out

has some form of jaw misalignment? but never told his mom because he would rather die than be seen with braces

gamer headphone dent 💔

immediately asks any girl wearing a band shirt "name five songs" even if he doesnt know the band at all

owns a concerning amount of body pillows

secretly has a thing for mean assertive women

bpd maybe?

has VERY bad hyperopia (long-sightedness)

used to own hamsters and got so sad when they died he missed club meetings for like a week -> club genuinely thought it was a grandma or something not yoda 1 and yoda 2 (he'd name them that because he forgot which one was which and just named them the same thing)

has so many cousins and extended family its insane. he swears that if he hears "youve grown so much, last time i saw you you were a little baby!" he will LOSE IT

has freakishly good aim for some reason? like, the club wouldve gone to paintball or laser tag or something and bill would throw a tantrum over always getting shot by josh immediately

hates overly sweet things

PETE !!

very very hairy everywhere except on his head 😭 bro has a receding hairline at 17 someone save him (literally the only reason he wears the baseball cap all ghe time)

probably the first one to grow facial hair out of the club, brags about it so hard

tried piercing his ears by himself once but it got infected so he had to give up

rlly dark eyes and has the most beautiful luscious dark lashes youve ever seen (guido mista coded)

nose is very curved and downturned

MOLES MOLES SO MANY MOLES

kinda crooked teeth but his parents cant afford braces for him so

owns a bunch of exotic pets and used to prank the club with them until bill accidentally stepped on his pet spider and killed it or something

yk when u smell sweaty and bad and try putting deodorant on top to fix it but just ends up smelling like a mix of sweat and deodorant and its lowkey worse? yeah thats what pete smells like. all the time. and axe body spray

tried smoking one (1) time to look cool and regretted it so much. never again

probably unironically got scurvy once due to not brushing his teeth or eating any fruit and thought his gums bleeding meant he was turning into a zombie -> tried biting josh once to be funny and "turn him into a zombie too" but he bit too hard and it got infected (he felt SO bad)

really strong immune system from eating dirt as a kid? almost never gets sick -> when he does its really bad and the club lowkey thinks hes gonna die when it happens

if not working at sick mofo in epilogue i like to think he could've ended up working as a horror sfx artist

also could probably have been good at sports if he tried but he never did (plus hates jocks so)

surprisingly really knowledgeable about food and spices and stuff (maybe his mom taught him) but he HATES cooking so never does anything abiut it

watches gore and shit but would throw up immediately if he saw a major injury like that in real life

has freakishly good reflexes from his older brothers picking on him all the time

JERRY !!

THICK EYEBROWS !!!!!!!! KINDA HAS SIDEBURNS TOO !!!!!!!!!! im not normal

thin lips ..and eyebags …. plus kinda defined cheekbones make him look rlly tired all the time

hes really myopic but doesnt have glasses -> his eyes look closed all the time cuz hes always squinting trying to see 3 feet in front of him (plus his eyebrows furrow together when he does so thats why sometimes he looks like he has a unibrow) -> probably starts wearing contacts in epilogue

also literally only failed his driving test becayse of myopia SOMEONE GET THIS POOR BOY SOME GLASSES

had a tooth gap when he was younger (think that one flashback where theyre all kids) and had to wear braces for a while to fix it -> was relentlessly made fun of because of that by the club until bill got braces too and threatened to punch whoever made fun of braces again

weirdly good at finding out info about people …. stalker ass .!!!! has doxxed people he dislikes on forums occasionally -> stops doing that in epilogue but maybe finds himself accidentally stalking someones profile when on the internet and feels bad

waaayy taller than the rest of the club but has a shitty posture so he looks kinda on par with the others -> like 180cm but looks 175cm

best jawline out of all of them lowkey 😭

maybe a little unaware on physical boundaries and stuff … physical touchy guy

FRECKLES + hes probably the one wity tge least acne out of all of them cuz he would probably start picking at his pimples the minute they show up (does NOT wash his face though) -> acne scars in epilogue

greasy hair, probably washes it every 2 weeks (has rlly nice smelling shampoo when he does wash it though) -> washes his hair more frequently in epilogue (REALLY soft)

very blunt when he has strong opinions about something but otherwise has ZERO backbone. will immediately change his mind on something if he wants to impress someone

a sagittarius because he looks like he'd have a birthday in december plus weird al yankovic song your horoscope for today (listen to it right now.)

very clammy sweaty hands and HATES it, sensory nightmare, always fidgeting with the hem of his sweater to dry them out

autistic .!!! plus has rlly bad anxiety probably

and fomo. oh lord he has so much fomo -> probably one of the biggest reasons he still hangs out with the club tbh -> plus has really bad codependency and abandonment issues maybe? cannot do something by himself he has to have someone with him

gets his ears pierced in the epilogue and LOVES it, too scared to get more though because it was really painful

is a pretty good artist, could've become a professional easily but was more preoccupied with other stuff probably

owns a huge ginger main coone cat that bullies him around

low blood pressure

very skilled at calligraphy… most legible handwriting out of all of them

umm urrmm thats it i thinks .... i hope my vision is not too out of character .......,,,, Guh

[luv4rj]

Chasing You

Summary : you and haechan first met in high school , but now that you're in college you realize who had been chasing you all this time.

Warnings : fluff, smut, college student reader&hyuck, nonidol!haechan, bestfriend!haechan, softdom!haechan, sub!fem!reader, kinda switch!reader, virgin!reader , 7dream!friend mentions, bad writing, NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @hyucksunset | @fullsunahceah | @ilovehaechie | @yukisroom97 - sorry if i forgot you/didn't see your request to be added!

A/N : this is my first time writing please be kind ik its lwk bad

"There's our princess!" Shouted jaemin as you walked into the cafe.

You greeted everyone with a bright smile slightly shy due to jaemin's name towards you although its the usual.

"Dude if I'm honest people probably think ur into her" Marks laughs as he points at Jaemin holding a bigger laugh than the one he let out after seeing Jaemin's dramatically shocked expression.

You laugh as you say your hello's and take your seat - next to haechan of course. Although your friend group is close you were still definitely the closest to haechan, you guys were practically inseparable since high school.

"Oh" haechan points at your bag, "is that keychain new? Its cute" he says in a sugary tone.

"Ah! Yes i got it when i was shopping around before i came!" You reply happily before noticing his sulking.

"Wahh you really went shopping without inviting me? We could've totally made it a date.." he pouts,

"oh stop" you jokingly hit his arm.

"Wait" you look around before continuing, "has chenle not arrived yet?"

"Nope" Renjun answers, speaking for the first time since you arrived.

"Are we really surprised, he tries to act all nonchalant when it comes to us" Mark rolls his eyes jokingly before smiling. Conveniently, Chenle walks in right after and daps up some of the guys before sitting. You guys talk and sip your drinks as you feel haechan grab your hand under the table, confused, you look at him-

"is everything alright?" He whispers quietly not to draw attention of the others. You're honestly surprised at the question- not because he usually doesn't usually care like this but because you've felt off for the past couple days without reason that even you started not to realize you weren't acting like your usual self.

How could he notice? When you yourself forgot. Only if you knew how much he cares for you...

You nod at him looking a little confused, all it does it make him giggle shyly before returning his attention to the group but continuing to hold your hand, mainly because he wants you to know he's still there if something is wrong but maybe (definitely) also because its so comfortable. The groups hangout eventually comes to end but with them leaving one by one. Jaemin leaves first to go have his workout with Jeno, shortly followed by Renjun then Chenle. When its just you Mark and Haechan you all talk for a bit more before all getting up to head out.

"Ill see you guys later, alright?" Mark says with a smile before heading out as you and haechan order one more treat from the counter to take home.

"Here, ill pay for you" haechan smirks proudly

"But You payed for me last time hyuck!? You really dont have to.." you say panicked.

"Ah ah ah really i want to" he puts his hands up as if caught while the cashier swipes his card. Although this is such a small gesture it always makes you feel shy, he always goes out of his way for you.

The walk home is the usual, stupid sweet conversations- what more do you expect from best friends?

When you get home it doesn't take u long before you collapse on the couch and throw your things on the table, u hear haechan laugh at you but ignore it.

"Are our friends that exhausting to you?" He jokes

you roll ur eyes in response before sitting up and grabbing the remote-

"come sit and watch a movie with me before i get to tired"

He quickly came over and sat making you laugh at his eagerness. You put on the kissing booth and cuddle up close to haechan like you always have, it's more comfortable that way. But for some reason something feels different, your heart is beating faster and ur more aware of everything. maybe it's because of his concern earlier, it made you realize how much he pays attention to you- which speaking of worried you right now because you hope he won't realize how shy you're feeling and the fact you keep glancing at his face or playing with his fingers.

"hyuck?" You call out quietly

"yes y/n?" He quips.

"How did you notice i was off earlier?"

"Hmm i could just tell, why? Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked concerned cupping your face.

You giggle "i would but i didn't really know what was wrong so i honestly couldn't tell you" you smile at him seeing his eyes soften causing ur expression to change to one thats more starstruck.

"I see.." he trails off before looking at you once more- "y/n... can i kiss you?".

You almost think it's a joke or just playful flirting, but by the look in his eyes and the lack of a teasing smirk on his face you believe it, and you want it. You nod lightly with a dazed expression before you feel his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is sweet, his lips are soft and plush, something you would've never been able to imagine. When he pulls back he giggles shyly at your expression, you look so starstruck and flustered like he's never seen before which makes him laugh lightly.

"What.. why are you laughing" you pout looking away nervously,

"you just look so cute right now" he says with a smirk

You playfully hit his chest lightly before you get up clearing your throat,

"i uhm, I'm gonna go to bed" you cant hide the flushed look on ur face as you avoid eye contact.

"Oh-, goodnight y/n-"

he barely finishes before you quickly walk to your room shutting the door only to immediately lean against it to catch the breath you had for some reason been holding. 'What was that? Why did i like it? Why is my heart racing so fast?' You think to yourself before walking to your bed sitting for a bit before doing your nightly routine trying to avoid thinking of the situation at hand.

The next morning things with you and haechan were off, well actually it was just that you were being so shy while haechan was completely normal.

"You gonna grab that?" Haechan said staring at your toast that had just finished in the toaster, thats right where he's standing.

"uh i, I'll grab it in a second" you say giving him a glance but eventually looking anywhere but at him. Has he always looked this good? Surely he did something different today..

"Hmm.. okay well I'm gonna head out a bit early i wanna talk to one of the professors before class, see you later okay?"

"Okay, Have a good day" you smiled lightly waving him off.

You finished getting ready and headed to campus arriving barely on time quickly sitting in ur usual spot next to haechan.

"you were almost lateeee" he poked at you with his annoying teasing tone

"shhh" you say passively avoiding eye contact out of pure nervousness from the night before.

As class goes by haechan is nothing but clingy and cute as usual, but today everything feels so different- you notice it all more. The hearts and other doodles he draws on the sides of your paper, the way he links pinkies with you the second you stop writing and smiles, that damn smile... you've always found haechan attractive but right now he's more than that? When you look at him right now you just feel adoration, it's like whatever that was last night flipped a switch but maybe you're just being dramatic.

Once class is over you study by yourself in the library for hours on end whilst haechan does who knows what. Before you know it its getting dark and u feel a pair of strong warm arms wrap around your neck from behind, it could only be one person. The same person who always shows you so much love and affection more than anyone else despite his clingy personality its obvious he's clinger to you.

"Hi haechan" you say warmly with a smile

"why hello y/n" he acts fake surprised before laughing lightly. "Come on lets take you home out lf this stinky library" he pats ur shoulder after detaching himself from you, you nod with a playful laugh before packing up ur stuff and heading on ur way home- you guys lived close by so the walk wasn't a big deal.

As you walked in the warm night it was quiet and peaceful next to haechan under the moon like this, than he broke the silence "soooo why were you acting so shy today" he intrudes.

You panic immediately at the question not knowing how to answer, while also having the feeling he knows.

"nothing! Really it's nothing.." you plead your case although knowing he wont believe it for a second but he moves on

"okay then.." he says suspiciously.

Once you get home you both settle in and take your places on the couch to finish the movie from yesterday, as usual haechan cuddles up to you but today it only makes you nervous and stiff and the only thing you can think about is his soft plush lips. Once the movie is over haechan yawns about to get up before you lightly grab his wrist.

"Hm?" Haechan looks at you with a surprised expression, which is way cuter than it should be.

"Close your eyes" you mumble looking away once more.

"Okay..?" He closes his eyes while being more than confused.

And right then he feels your lips on his, his eyes shooting open only to close again as he rests his hand lightly on the back of your neck. The kiss you meant to be short and sweet he turned into something deeper, something passionate. As the kiss continues he guides you onto his lap to straddle him in which you go along with. You pull away nothing but shocked, you realize your position and panic but don't move.

"I, i dont know what im doing- what we-" you get cut off.

"Its okay" he says comforting you "do you want this?" he says gently, placing one hand on your hip the other on your cheek.

You nod gently but with confidence, although you don't know whats going on or how you feel you know you want this, you want him. Since your kiss yesterday everything felt so different, all you could think about was the way his lips felt against yours, his touch on your skin, the proximity of his body. You don't know where this will lead you to but you can worry after, right now all that matters is the boy in front of you. You're soon pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of his voice-

"Say it baby, use your words for me?" He looks at you almost innocently, something deeper still resting behind his eyes

"I want this, want you" you give another small nod.

He smirks before landing his lips back on yours and his hands to rest on your hips. The kiss is sloppy, messy, passionate, urgent, you soon find your rhythm and as you do you feel him grind up into you whilst pressing your hips down onto him more. Your breath hitches causing him to smirk into the kiss and continue to create the friction between your bodies alternating between grinding you onto him and himself onto you.

As you softly moan into the kiss he pulls back to grab the hem of your shirt looking at you silently asking for permission to remove it, you give a nod being to nervous to break the intimate silence.

In a second your shirt is pulled over ur head, hair messy, lips swollen, exposed in front of him.

"Wow, fuck you're beautiful" he says hands caressing your sides.

You shake your head no, unsure of what to say. He quickly stands up while picking you up with him making you yelp, he carries you to his room kicking the door shut on his way in.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are to me, been waiting so long.." haechan says lowly in your ear before lightly laying you on the bed in front of him.

It's all happening so fast, you were on the couch with your best friend watching a movie and now you're half naked in his room with him on top of you marking your neck as if there's no world outside of you two.

"Hyuck.." you say slightly above a whisper

"Yes baby?"

"Your shirt-" you grab it lightly before he sits up a bit quickly taking it off, all you can do is stare., his slightly toned body with such perfect caramel skin is truly beautiful.

"You like what you see or do you just have a staring problem?" He teases

"Maybe both" you say pulling him back down and immediately into a kiss. This time slow and passionate before he breaks it

"Fuck, do you need me like i need you?" He asks placing your hand on his hard on.

You get dizzy at the thought and feeling of how badly he wants you and that this is even happening,

"Yes hyuck i need you.. please.." you plead with him only to see a smirk as a response as he strips you of your shorts leaving you in only your undergarments.

He sits up and back to take a full look at you with nothing but lust and.. love?

"Ur so pretty.. all flustered and desperate for me. You're all mine right now huh? All mine.." he ends off with a shy smile before going down your body placing himself between your legs.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of your best friend between your legs, lips swollen, face slightly flushed, hair messy yet falling perfectly to frame his face.

But really nothing could have prepared you for when he pulled your panties down and dove into your heat licking between your folds, eating you out like you'd never imagine.

"Hyuck- i- ah!" You moan already feeling overwhelmed. The feeling only deepens when he inserts one finger in you only intensifying the pleasure.

"Mm, more- want more" you barely get out, the feeling of him sucking your clit and thrusting his finger in you distracting you from forming words.

"Oh? Is my girl greedy?" He smirks, adding another finger.

You shake your head no, arching ur back as he curls his fingers just right.

You're close, you start to feel it- but you don't wanna let go like this

"Hyuck Im close i- i dont wanna cum like this" you whine out.

He slows before coming up to your ear fingers still in you

"You wanna cum on my cock huh?" He says lowly

You nod desperately "yes! Please.."

"Okay baby, whatever you want" he says softlywhile removing his fingers, coming up to caress your face gently before He rids himself of his shorts leaving him just in his boxers, boner evident. The sight gave you the chills in anticipation before something in you snapped, pulling him down on top of you to kiss you soon flipping positions so you're straddling his laying down form.

He looks a bit shocked at the change of pace but soon settles to a darker hornier expression seemingly pleased with the situation. You continue to kiss him as you grind down on his erection, only one thin layer of fabric separating the two of you.

It doesn't take long for him to flip you back over before taking off his last remaining piece of clothing only giving you a second to gawk at the sight before he puts his attention right back on you. Kneeling on the bed in between your legs kissing you- but all you can focus on is feeling him brushing against you just wishing he was inside you already.

"Please hyuck, fuck me.." you say in desperation, you need him now

He just smirks to himself feeling proud of where he has you before lining himself up and slowly pushing in.

"Fuck- you have no idea how long I've wanted this" his voice slightly shaky

You whine and grab onto his forearms, trying to accommodate to his size.

"Since high school I've wanted this, not sex but intimacy" he pants as he tries to keep his cool, the feeling of you around him all feels like to much.

"Wanted to make love to you" he says thrusting slowly after you had adjusted. You moan at the feeling, this is like nothing you'd ever felt before- passionate, loving, raw emotion.

He continues to thrust into you, the both of you exchanging noises and moans.

"Doing so good for me-" he groans. He feels you clench around him as he hits your g-spot- you feel yourself getting close as you moan his name out.

"Fuck- love the way you say my name" he pants. "Cum for me, be good for me yea?" Haechan says carefully watching you face as you start to come undone.

When you cum its the best you've ever felt, beats anything you have ever done. He pulls out, cumming on your stomach making a mess before laying next to you as you both try to catch your breaths.

He breaks the silence "that was amazing" he turns to face you "you did so well".

You smile sleepily at him, he understands everything you want to convey to him in this moment. He soon gets up to get a wet rag to wipe you off before cuddling under the covers with you, stroking you hair gently as you bury yourself in his chest exhausted.

"Was chasing you all this time, now ur finally mine" he says sweetly as you drift off to sleep. "Goodnight y/n" he whispers, soon falling asleep with you in his arms.

[sweetieviktor]

"it's the tradition", feat. viktor.

summary: it's christmas in runeterra and couples are sharing kisses under the mistletoe.

word count: 1.000. (yes! exactly 1k im happy with it :]

content warning: just fluff as always! :DD (written with s1 viktor in mind!!!

author notes: ITS 5AM AND IVE WRITTEN 2 FICS IN A DAY, maybe im going to die but fuck it we ball. love viktor and love xmas, i wish i could use sweaters but in brazil december is sooo hot but yeah, here it is a lil something for the holidays. hope u like it!! :)))

whenever some holiday approaches, piltover academy is adorned in it's colour by students. it's december and the halls are decorated with reds and greens all the way, bringing joy to those who look up and see the fairy lights blinking slowly to them. christmas is coming, and so is winter.

everyone is using their thickest coats, but there's still some people who are cold, even if they are holding hot drinks to warm up both their hands and their body, or if they are rubbing their arms, creating some friction that could maybe help it, or sharing kisses under the mistletoe meticulously placed on the tree near the entrance of the academy, which have all kind of things hanging on it. some letters addressed to santa, little brilliant baubles made in all type of materials you could think of, red bows and colorful lights, all made by it's students.

you wanted to spend your day like this, enjoying over your partner's warmth under the mistletoe. well, life isn't fair. he was already working and you needed to work too, but maybe you could bring him some sweet milk and cookies on your lunch break, right?

so once the clock hitted midday, you walked to the cafeteria, the same one you and viktor got out on your first date, and ordered enough cookies for both of you. the women on the other side of the counter packed them to you, putting the little bag on your right hand, while you carried the cup of sweet milk on the other. finally, you got out, hands full, hoping that you could bring him some of the christmas spirit when leaving those in the lab.

when you made it to the academy again, it was even more crowded than earlier, students going in and out, chatting and joking around, throwing snowballs at each other and playing in the snow. and again, the couples kissing under the mistletoe. and all you could think of was him. oh, how you missed his kisses. so you hurried up, the flashy holiday themed colors in the halls blending together in an indistinguishable blur.

once you reached his lab, you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for an answer. you could feel how your heart thumped against your ribs, maybe it's the nervousness or just because you runned all the way to come here in time. “come in,” was all you could hear from inside.

you turned the door knob, pushing it so you could enter the lab. he was hunched over his desk, but once he looked past his shoulder, realizing you were the one who got in, his golden eyes immediately lighted up, just like the fairy lights, but shined even brighter when he seemed the baked goods you carried, then turning again to his work, “just wait a bit, i will finish this, ehh- hopefully soon.”

you came from behind him, leaving both the bag and the cup over his desk, “i know these are your favorites,” you put your hand on his shoulder, “and it's my break now, but soon i need to get back to work,” his hand stopped, no longer making calculations. he looked up at you, then at the papers in front of him, thinking if he should or not give in.

sighing, he let the pencil over the papers. you knew he would keep working if you didn't say it. “i guess i could give myself a break, then,” the corners of his mouth quirking up while he reached for the bag, opening it and letting the smell of the cookies bathe the place, bringing coziness alongside it. he shoved his hand on the bag, picking one up and biting onto it, humming softly when it melted on his tongue, then bringing the almost half cookie to your lips, only to put away and eat it himself.

he was laughing loudly, keeping a hand over his mouth, to prevent any crumbs from coming out. “you ain't fair,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. you knew he was just joking, but you wanted to eat too, “i brought those so we both could eat. together!”

“i know, i know!”, he said, getting the cup of sweet milk and taking a sip of it, “but it's fun to tease you. can't help it,” he shrugged, looking at your pouty expression turning into one of anger. picking another cookie, he proceeded to feed you first, your frown immediately disappearing. he was trying to not laugh again, but he couldn't contain it, as he did so, soon the frown came back to your face.

“stop making fun of me and let me eat, for jannas's sake,” you also couldn't keep your smile from growing, it was such a good atmosphere that, even if you were mad at him for stealing your cookie and laughing at you, you couldn't be mad for longer than thirty seconds.

you were laughing with him, happy with how your lunch was going, eating and talking, so busy with everything that you didn't see him fidgeting, looking for something inside his jacket pocket. once there was no more food nor milk, he cleaned his hands, bringing one over you both, holding something up. a mistletoe.

you scoffed, running your hand over your face, “really, viktor?”, you were astonished, he truly got one of those just he could have an excuse to kiss you?

“well, it's the tradition, isn't it?”, he grinned, placing his free hand on your waist, bringing you closer, “any person who's under the mistletoe must kiss, it's correct?”

“yes, absolutely correct,” you put both hands on each side of his face, kissing his lips softly, tasting the sugar on his mouth. “but you taste like milk and cookies,” you kissed him again, just to make sure you got it right, “maybe next year i will bring you more of these, so we could kiss under the mistletoe again.”

“oh, christmas may be my favorite holiday now.”

[lelengerine]

pairing. tokuno yushi x reader

synopsis. a silly mistake has yushi thinking about you for days

tags. college cafe drabble, just a lot of fluff, in the member's pov bc i like writing inner dilemmas, mentions of food, reader uses she/her prns... i think that's it! (lmk if anything was missed)

wc. 0.8k words

notes. my first work for the year and its for the wishies (i hope u all don't mind me writing for them now hehe) 🥺 also what do we think of this new banner style 👐👐 likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

꒰ m.list ꒱

yushi thinks he’s losing it.

it started last week—when he met you.

his friends had begged him to check out a cafe near campus, throwing around excuses about needing a change of scenery to study. yushi knew better. studying was always the last thing on their minds when they were together. but when riku slung an arm around his shoulders and sion dangled the promise of good coffee in front of him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no.

the cafe was warm and cozy, filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. yushi didn’t think much of it at first. it was just another cafe, just another outing with his friends.

but then he saw you.

you were standing behind the counter, adjusting the straps of your apron before glancing up at him with a small smile. the soft, golden lights of the cafe reflected in your eyes, giving them an almost starry quality. his friends wasted no time rattling off their orders to him, not even sparing a second glance before they darted off to claim a table. now he was left standing there, brain inexplicably stalling as if some pop up screen was blocking it from functioning normally.

“hi! what can i get you?” you asked, your voice bright and clear.

“um… uh, what was it… two raspberry lattes and a caramel soda?”

“i think you meant two raspberry sodas and a caramel latte,” you corrected gently, a small laugh slipping out as you tapped the order into the register.

yushi felt like sinking into the floor at that very moment. “r-right, those please.”

“that’ll be fifteen dollars in total. can i have your name, please?”

“my name?” he echoed dumbly, his voice cracking slightly.

you tilted your head, clearly amused. “so you can claim your drinks when they’re ready, silly.”

“oh- right.” his hand fumbled with his wallet, nearly dropping his card in the process. the tips of his ears burned, and he could already hear sion and riku laughing if they had seen this. “it’s yushi.”

“okay! here you go.” you handed him his change and a buzzer, your fingers brushing his ever so briefly. “you can pick up your drinks when it starts beeping.”

“i… i knew that,” he mumbled, gripping the buzzer tightly like it was a lifeline that would save him from his ever growing embarrassment.

“just making sure.” you winked playfully before turning your attention to the next customer.

yushi moved out of the line on autopilot, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. by the time he reached his friends, he realized he hadn’t even thanked you. the thought lingered even after he had already retrieved the drinks, silently gnawing at him as his friends started chatting about some new game release.

it wasn’t anything special, so why did his mind keep recalling the way you laughed? or the mischievous glint in your eyes when you teased him?

“hey, class ended like five minutes ago, and you’re usually the first one out as soon as the bell rings.”

huh?

yushi blinked, realizing he’d been staring blankly at his notebook. sion was leaning on his desk, one eyebrow raised, his messenger bag slung carelessly over his shoulder.

“your mind’s been absent all day,” riku added, tossing a pen into his backpack with a practiced flick. he nudged yushi’s chair with his foot. “whatcha thinking about, hmm?”

“nothing,” yushi muttered, shoving his notebook into his bag with a little more force than necessary.

sion crossed his arms, a sly grin spreading across his face. “oh, it’s definitely something. wait a second- this started last week, didn’t it? at the cafe.”

riku’s eyes widened as he snapped his fingers. “it’s the barista, isn’t it?!”

yushi froze, his ears instantly turning red and his friends could already tell what that implies without him needing to even speak.

“dude, you’re so obvious.” sion plopped down on the desk next to yushi’s, leaning in with a teasing grin. “you’ve been zoning out ever since we went there. what, are you gonna ask her out or just keep replaying that little meet-cute in your head?”

“i barely know her,” yushi snapped, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stood. “and i don’t even—”

“you don’t even what?” riku cut in, blocking his path with a smirk. “like her? think about her every day? want to go back just to see her?”

yushi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “you’re both the worst.”

“well, lucky for you,” sion said, patting his shoulder with mock sympathy, “we’re heading back tomorrow. don’t say we never do anything for you.”

“wait- what?” yushi looked up, panicked.

“don’t worry, we’ll even order for you this time so you don’t embarrass yourself again.” riku laughed, dodging the half-hearted punch yushi threw his way.

as they left the classroom, yushi lagged behind, trying to quiet the flurry of nerves in his chest. it wasn’t much—just a thought. but somehow, the idea of seeing you again didn’t seem so bad.

[transformers-spike]

TFA Megatron and femme cybertronian who’s so childish and energetic at some point megs has to shush her somehow…😣

That sounded so corny omg forget I said it like that. Anyways he just fucks the shit out of her to make her be quiet😭

Tysm if u do this💗💗

He's such a fun character to write for, I swear

“Stay still,” he orders.

Maybe you should have shut up from the start, stopped bombarding him with questions for the past month and a half and kept on working as their morally dubious (and unpaid) PR manager. He could have snapped earlier. He should have snapped earlier. From the way he has patiently answered your questions compared to Lugnut and Blitzwing who’ve threatened your life more times than you can feasibly count, he has shown nothing but tolerance in the face of your overexcited blabbering. But now? Oh, you’ve gone too far. And there’s no turning back. “Are we… sure about this? I mean, not that I’m complaining,” you say while chuckling nervously. You wriggle in his servo to no avail, his grip is firm, nowhere near painful, but inescapable. “You’ll manage,” he reassures with amusement tilting his voice. His timbre is soft and rumbling, so close you can feel it in your bones. This isn’t your first time getting freaky with the likes of him, but considering the circumstances, you’re apprehensive he may kill you with his spike- “Oh hey, that’s a new model!” you exclaim the second you catch sight of it. Grey and black, lined with red biolights, and much more feasible for someone of your body type to take. “Wow, did you get it from that purple guy? Was it Swindle or something? Anyway, I knew he sold you cool stuff but I didn’t expect him to sell spikes too. Ooh, does he sell valves? If you get a smaller one can I peg you? I promise I’ll do better this time! Pretty please? Please, please please please-” He gives you a warning squeeze. “Fuck! Okay, sorry. I got the message.” You mimic zipping your lips shut and give him a thumbs up. He looks unimpressed. His spike is cool against your thighs from the generous coating of lube, but its tip is deliciously warm. It’s certainly the biggest dick you’ve taken until now, and you consider yourself a size queen. “Oh uh… did you pick, like, the third smallest to give me an extra challenge?” You dare unzip your mouth. “I appreciate you believing in me, but… I don’t think I can survive that ,” you nudge your head in its direction, shivering from the mere thought of it inside of you. “It was custom-ordered,” he says, leering down at your tiny form. He runs his thumb over your breasts, a bead of transfluid forming at the tip of his spike, pink and shiny. You swallow hard. “Believe me,” he continues, breath slick with oil, “this is as small as they could go.” You claw at his servo when he presses it into you, a searing pain shooting through your core. “You could have prepared me at least, you know?” you hiss through gritted teeth. “Yes,” he admits, not a hint of apology behind the mirth in his tone. “But I believe you can manage just fine.” Bold words from someone who’s trying to stuff you like a Thanksgiving turkey. You would call him a cunt if you weren’t throwing your head back and groaning at the feeling of his free servo rubbing circles around your clit. “You really are a bastard,” you squeak, caught between pleasure and pain. His spike is halfway inside of you with no hint of stopping.

“And you should have learned to shut your intake ages ago,” he answers in his silky voice, crookedly smiling down at you. The very sound of him speaking is enough to send a wave of heat to your groin, making your walls involuntarily twitch around him. You glare up at him, his smile widens. The pace he starts at is excruciating; slow shallow thrusts pulling at your pussy, thumb drawing circles around your clit. He stays quiet as always, the only hint of pleasure on his part being the steady whirring of his cooling fans and the hot air being ex-vented against your skin. Soon enough, his spike is fully sheathed inside of you. You can barely move, filled to the brim by something that should decidedly never fit inside a human. “Overwhelmed?” he croons, voice caressing your poor aching nerves. “Fuck you,” you unwisely declare, visibly shaking in his fist. “I’ll consider that a yes,” he adds, mocking, pulling out of you just enough to give you the impression of hope, only to crush it once he stuffs himself back in. He fucks you for what feels like hours, leaving you speechless and numb from his brutal branch of pleasure, twitching around his spike, having cum enough times to leave you shaking in his grasp. You send a prayer to the All Spark when he finally finishes inside of you, filling you up to the brim with transfluid, enough to spill out of you and trickle down the crack of your ass. Your throat is sore from begging for mercy, and if you had any dignity left, you would look away in shame from those piercing red eyes. “Something the matter? You seem awfully quiet,” he teases, still rubbing his digit over abused nerves. “Bitch…” you rasp between ragged breaths.

[gorgynei]

hi um i was going to say “can i ask you about werewolves for a uquiz im making” but i don’t actually have any specific questions. can u infodump about werewolves for a uquiz im making /no pressure

this is like asking to open pandoras box oh man. okay heres my best go, i have a hard time infodumping on command so if you have any follow up questions please throw them at me!

werewolves werent always the scary monstery beasts we imagine them as in the modern day and they were not bipedal creatures at all until modern hollywood. historically (12th century england in particular) werewolves usually were noblemen who had this weird curse to deal with. heres an old timey werewolf transformation tidbit thats been lost over time: in order to transform back, the werewolf had to find the same clothing they originally took off to transform. if they couldnt find it, they got stuck as a wolf. werewolves were/are very very influenced by the story of peter stumpps historic werewolf trial (its arguably a historical failure to even consider him a werewolf, but thats complicated). he was a cannibal and murderer and rapist because he was just evil and all those negatives were thrust upon werewolves by association. werewolves werent 100% nice and good before then, but it marked a shift. prior to that, werewolves were generally represented a moral battle within the individual, not just a person who wanted to kill and slaughter for fun

most of the time when people imagine a werewolf nowadays they picture a big burly bipedal creature (reminiscent of an furry/anthropomorphic wolf in many ways), but that wasnt how it always was! bipedal wolf monsters are a creation of hollywood, they never existed in medieval literature or any historical werewolf documents. werewolves were just people who transformed into full-on wolves (not to be confused with shapeshifters, sorcerers, and witches, who could shapeshift but were usually not exclusively turning into wolves and had full control over themselves). its pretty easy to sort werewolves onto a gradient based on their designs:

i got totally lost in the sauce making this, but as you can see there are some clear trends that emerge and its easy to tell which things have been inspired by what other things.

i think ive run out of things to say that arent just me regurgitating the werewolf pride movement. hopefully this helps with ur uquiz somewhat !!!?

[plasmara]

currently on vacation and thinking about how unhinged the team would be in a hotel. the beach is cool or whatever but imagining this is doing way more for me so u all have to know about it now too

i think jay absolutely reverts to being a kid in hotels. like coz he didn’t get to do this kind of thing growing upso now he’s throwing himself into the whole experience. insists on being the first one into the room and immediately claims “his” bed . And it’s always somehow the worst one and everyone’s like ? we weren’t gonna fight u for that one buddy. he uses all the tiny soaps. he loves those weird little plastic desserts from the buffet that look like edible art and taste like nothing. he inhales four at a time (someone stop him!!!!!!) he also orders room service just to say he did. fully living his best life. he also befriends the cleaning staff within 24 hours and leaves them origami animals and thank u notes. he gets especially close to one older woman who reminds him of his mom and hugs her like he’s known her his whole life when they check out. they’re definitely facebook friends now

nya and kai also didn’t grow up doing hotel stuff, but they go about it in very different ways:

nya acts like she’s been dropped into an unfamiliar battlefield with no map. unpacks the second she walks in. scans the room like she’s inspecting a mission site. sits on the edge of the bed and Absolutely does not know how to relax. jay has to stage a 3-step intervention just to get her horizontal and watching trash TV. she complains at first—“this is brain rot, jay”—and then ten minutes later she’s yelling at the screen like, “OH my god she’s lying, that’s not even his baby!” (it’s an episode of “Are You the Father?” and she is INVESTED). jay looks so smug it’s disgusting. once she finally gives in to the hotel experience, jay assumes she’s gonna, like, chill out—maybe nap, but instead she fully loses her mind over the little activities hotels set up. darts, ping pong, weird lobby trivia nights—she’s there early, stretching, asking what the first place prize is. darts with her is a full-contact sport. she talks trash, she throws bullseyes, she intimidates other guests. the staff are weirdly scared of her but too impressed to stop her. jay just sits there holding her mimosa like “sorry not sorry this is my wife and i support her no matter what.” AND YES she’s absolutely obsessed with the breakfast mimosas. swears she’s “just taste-testing” but she’s tipsy by 9am and calling it research. jay’s her self-appointed assistant and takes it very seriously

and kai….. oh kai’s on his ross from friends arc. absolutely determined to get his money’s worth. he takes five showers a day. uses every single towel. drinks all the in-room coffee pods “just to test them.” takes the bathroom robe. takes the hanger the robe was on. takes the complimentary flip-flops and the laundry bag too. then stashes the sewing kit in his luggage like it’s a souvenir. he’s also fully dressed, zipped up, and sitting on the edge of the bed by 10:58am but refuses to leave a minute before checkout. silliest part is he’s not even the one who paid for the room

zane makes a whole itinerary the second they arrive. no one follows it. he pretends not to be disappointed. still gently asks if anyone wants to accompany him to the fitness center. no one does. eventually lloyd goes because he feels bad. zane considers this a win. also tries every single hotel amenity out of respect. leaves a review when they check out—not just a rating, noooooo he’s committed so its a fully formatted document. paragraphs. bullet points. hyperlinks. includes detailed notes on the water pressure and the “emotional tone of the lobby lighting.” gets the names of all the staff so he can thank them properly. two weeks later they send him a thank-you email and a gift card

lloyd’s obviously right there with jay, riding the high of free breakfast and hallway chaos. they’re up at 5:50am for the continental breakfast like it’s a red carpet premiere. standing in front of the buffet watching the staff set up, whispering like “okay i’ll hit the waffles first, you go for the muffins.” tag-team energy. he also spends half the day in the pool. makes friends with a group of kids and helps them build a pool noodle obstacle course. gives out nicknames. teaches one of them how to do a front flip. gets invited to dinner by their mom and yes he goes he feels Bad turning it down

cole ALSO loves the pool, but in a completely different way. he alternates between going absolutely feral doing competitive laps (he and kai have an ongoing bet about who can swim the most without dying and they’re both taking it Extremely seriously even tho there’s nothing actually on the line? no prize no consequences and the idiots didn’t even shake on it) and switching to full relaxation mode. like shirt half-off, sunglasses on, sprawled out on a sun-bed with three snacks and some hotel drink with a tiny umbrella. no in-between. he burns through 800 calories in the water and then eats double that in chips ten minutes later. calls it balance. and goes without saying that he treats the hotel buffet like a blood sport. says stuff like “i’m not leaving ‘til i break even” and they all laugh but he’s being dead Serious. stacks his plates like a construction site. takes food back to the room in napkins. 100% the one who suggests bringing tupperware “just in case.” gets caught trying to stuff pastries into a travel mug and just goes “uh. i thought this was a self-serve situation?” no one buys it. doesn’t matter. he’s already out the door

[msmk11]

Hey can I req tan x reader where reader sometimes works with the twins and is quite close w both of them. So she's besties with tan and reader is just female version of him and they like to tease each other and they always bicker like all the time and one day reader gets so fed up with tan that she throws a pillow at him and they just get into a huge play fight . And they are fighting for ages throwing stuff about just giggling and then eventually they uat end p on top of each other and the giggling just stops. And the tension omggg. U can end this with them actually getting together or I kind of imagine lemon walking back in a being like 'I got us dinner😀' just killing the vibe a ruining the moment. Hope it makes sense:)

Repercussions

Tangerine x reader (sorta implied fem but no pronouns)

CW: mentions of food!

Summary: you and tangerine are play fighting! Some sexual tension ensues.

A/N: Anon!! Thank you for requesting! I died making this, it’s such a cute prompt 😭

It's only when your stomach begins to rumble that you emerge from the hermit hole you've created in your hotel room. You dart across the hall and knock decidedly on Tangerine and Lemon's door, ready to beg them to order food with you so that you get a better deal.

Tangerine is the one to open the door, and the way he instantly looks you up and down with a shit-eating smirk makes you regret your decision instantly. In your hunger-ridden state, you'd totally forgotten that you were only in fuzzy socks, old pj shorts with hearts on them, and a matching ruffly tank top.

You hold up your hand in protest, "Save it."

"What, love? I wasn't gonna say anything... about your really fucking cute outfit."

You look him up and down and scoff, "Sorry I prefer to be comfortable, unlike certain psychopaths."

Though he has discarded his suit jacket, he's still in his white button up, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a few buttons undone, and in his nicest gray slacks.

"Y'know I always like to look my best," the brunette answers proudly.

You brush past him into the room, "What, even for Lem?"

"Yes, of course, come right fucking in," Tangerine mumbles under his breath, though there's really no malice in his tone.

"Speaking of," you continue, plopping down onto one of the fluffy white beds, "where is Lemon?"

Tangerine sighs and joins you on the other side of the bed, "went to get dinner."

"What? You fuckers?! I'm starving and you didn't even bother to ask if I wanted anything."

"Oi shut it," he answers, pinching your bare thigh, "'course I fucking ordered something for you, love."

You pout at him, "But how'd you know what I want?"

His curls bounce as he shakes his head at you, "'cuz I know you better than you know yourself."

"Yeah right! There's no way you could've known that right now I wanted-"

"Fried rice?" He interrupts.

Then, he has the audacity to wink.

You're mad that he's right, so you do what you do best- attack him. You sneak a pillow from behind your back and smack him right in the face.

"Right, that's fucking it," he growls.

You let out a screech and jump off the bed, trying to find solace on the other side of the room.

"Mhmm don't think so, you little shit."

He stalks towards you, and you jump up on the other bed. You grab a pillow and hold it out threateningly, "Don't come closer, I'll hit you again."

Tangerine smirks at you, "it's a wonder you make it out of any missions alive if these are your bargaining tactics, love."

You ignore him and instead swing at his face again with the pillow. He takes this opportunity to lunge towards you, not only dodging your hit but also grabbing you by the waist. Tangerine manhandles you into his arms and throws you over his shoulder like its nothing.

"Tan! Let me down," you giggle, pounding your hands on his back.

You're not sure you really mean it though. Not, at least, with the nice view you have of his ass in your current position.

"If you insist," he declares, throwing you down onto his bed with a thump.

Before you have the chance to assume a fighting stance he's collapsed on top of you, using all his body weight to hold you down.

"Get off, you fucking prick," you groan.

Instead, he digs his hands into your sides with an evil grin, making you squeal again, “this is payback, love. Can’t attack me without repercussions.”

After his incessant attacks, you remember that you’re a trained fighter, and try to put some of your skills to use. Since most of his weight is on your upper half, you use your knees to push yourself up. You press on his chest and flip him over, so now that you’re the one on top.

He lets out a surprised chuckle and instinctively grabs your hips, trying to keep you from falling over from your momentum.

You’re both laughing breathlessly over the sudden turn of events and you bury your head in his toned chest. His chuckles vibrate against your skull and it’s nice- feeling so close to him.

Tangerine leans down to your ear to whisper something, and his hot breath on your neck makes you squirm and giggle.

He inhales sharply and squeezes your hips, a warning to stop moving, “You know, I should be more mad that you won, but I quite like having you on top straddling me.”

Slowly you look up at Tangerine, his bright blue eyes boring into yours, and stare at him, shocked.

“And I must say, if you don’t stop wiggling around on top of me, you’re gonna be in real trouble.”

A smirk creeps onto your face slowly, “well I do always have a penchant for trouble.”

The brunette’s eyes dart back and forth between your gaze and lips, and as he lays under you, dark curls all messed up from your tussle, you’re just aching to kiss him.

You start to lean in towards him.

“Love,” he warns breathily.

Your lips just faintly brush when you perceive the quiet beep of the hotel door unlocking. You throw yourself off of Tangerine onto the spot next to him and squeeze your eyes shut.

Jesus fucking Christ Lemon has the worst timing.

The door clicks open and Lemon walks in, completely oblivious to what’s just happened, “I’ve got dinner!”

[sunsetsover]

i still have so many thoughts abt fadel but i can't articulate any of them bc they really just all boil down to him being so cute and me wanting to cry about it.

bc he just. doesn't know what to do with style at all. he throws everything he can think of at style to chase him off and yet style is seemingly completely unfazed by all of it. and fadel doesn't know what to do about that bc no normal person would still be hanging around let alone pursuing him so hard but style is and fadel is just so fucking confused abt it. u can see it all over his little face, he literally does not know what to do or how to react or how to behave even bc style is just so fucking unpredictable. he seems so inconsiderate and kinda rude and then all of a sudden he's admitting that he was out of line turning up at the diner like that and assures him he won't do it again, and then he's at the diner and he's helping take orders, and you can literally see it make fadel's brain stutter. and it's kinda funny bc you'd think dealing w bison fadel would be used to unpredictable but no. style is a whole new league.

it's just so fun to me how like kant there are these little breaks in fadel's facade but instead of annoyance or agitation they always show someone so confused and bewildered and almost kinda fascinated bc what is wrong w style fr. and u can tell he kinda hates himself for it but after every interaction they have he grows to genuinely want to understand him more and more. he also wants to fuck him now but that's beside the point.

idk i just love fadel he's just a sweet little guy who apologises instinctively when the people working at the market bump into him. he goes to the market every day for fresh food for his restaurant and he buys his little brother medicine when his tummy hurts. but then here comes this freak of a man who is so completely unlike anything you've ever encountered before. and suddenly he's everywhere and he's insisting he's gonna to take you out based on nothing but what? vibes? stubbornness? and no matter what you do no mater how mean you are to him or how hard you try to scare him off he just grins and comes back again the next day and its like. what the fuck. and you can see the what the fuck all over his face and its so cute i love u fadel :-(

[papyriasks]

Hi! Looved the previous ask you did for the Papyri, so i was wondering if youd mind doing another one for me? 🥺🙏 How about first time cuddling with crush? Its late and crush is tired and just drags the skeleton down on the couch to nap with them bc theyre too tired to think straight, how do the boys react?

Cuddling with the Papyri for the first time

(Underfell, underswap, fellswap, swapfell & Swapfell gold)

I'm rlly glad you liked it, thank u for the ask :]

UF (Boss): Explodes. As soon as your hands reach out for him he stiffens like a board, his first instinct is to push away from the sudden contact, but as soon as he realises what you're doing he practically topples over as you pull him down to the couch. His skull is illuminated so red you could probably forgo any lamps in the room in order to see. Lackly his jaw clacks in a loss for words as your arms are curled around him. He will be at a loss of what to do for the first 10-15minutes until his brain resets, but as soon as he notices your slip into sleep he will find himself staring, taking in every aspect of your face, and only when he is absolutely certain you are dead asleep he might return the gesture and wrap an arm back around you, breath caught in his throat as he keeps having to remind himself to breath. By the time you wake up in the morning he will be long gone, and will not say a word about it, as if it never happened.

US(Slim): he's surprised, enough so to send a jitter of nervousness through his body, but he'll play it cool, even though internally he's sweating. He'll laxly throw an arm back over you in return secretly panicking about every and each placement of his arms, he might make a quick joke or light comment to break the mood but upon noticing your sleepiness his tone will soften as he stares gently down at you. He won't say anything after that but it will take him a long time to fall asleep himself, both from being in awe at your closeness and the nervousness of accidently fucking it up. He'll run his fingers through your hair until he's fighting sleep himself, Soothed by the sounds of your breathing, but you best be prepared for relentless teasing when you wake up.

SFG(Coffee): he'll probably squeak at the sudden motion and then practically melt into the couch out of embarrassment but he will have no problem sinking comfortably into you back. Everytime you breathe differently or make a small motion he'll hold his breath praying you don't wake up because frankly he isn't ready to let go of you yet. A million thoughts will race through his skull and you best believe this boy is not getting a wink of sleep. You will wake up with his skull a breath away from your face, sockets wide open in surprise at your awakening as he quickly gets up and disappears like the wind. When you next see him, He will fake pout and make comments about if you wanted to sleep with him that bad you could just ask until you are just as much of a bashful mess as he is.

SF(Cash): bold of you to assume you will be the one to initiate the first nap cuddling session, this man will find any and every excuse to lay on top of you, the first time was probably when you were just lounging watching TV and next thing you know you've got the air knocked from you as you've now got a big ass skeleton sitting right ontop of you until minutes later he's snoring and you've got no choice but to accept it until you've slipped away into sleep yourself. That being said the first time you actually go to initiate he will be oddly quiet, processing that fact that you didn't actually hate how on top of you all the time he was and actually want to be close to him. His auto response when nervous is to make stupid little jokes or teases, he will probably tell you to take a guy out to dinner first or something as he makes a show of getting comfortable. Internally his chest squeezes uncomfortably. The lax and unperturbed image he is trying to desperately convey is not reaching his eyes, in fact his eyes never leave your face, not even for a second. He can't help but stare and process if this was really real. Every instinct in him is telling him to push you away, despite how handsy he could be, something about this felt...vulnerable, which was not a feeling he was used to. But despite he cannot find it within him to pull away from you. You will wake up with him almost entirely ontop of you, hogging most of the couch but clawed onto you , you will just have to wait until his stirs himself or wake him up yourself if you have any plans of escaping.

FS(Mutt): he won't even budge, as soon as your arms reach up and around him his footing doesn't even stutter, instead he just turns to look at you lowly with a quirked bonebrow and ask you if you wanted something , a smirk curling at his teeth. If you hesitate a response he'll grab you back up by the shirt himself and promptly pull you back down right utop him, a arm laxly resting over your stomach and tug his hood down over his sockets to kick the sack himself. If you squirm his grip will tighten loosely until you slip to sleep yourself. Despite his fake snoring he's wide awake, his soul humming a beat quicker than it usually does. He will make no indication of it but he can't help but melt into the feeling of your warmth, a threat of orange dusting at his cheekbones arise but he will just as quickly swallow it. You are right where you belong, and for the first time in a long while he will sleep more comfortably than he can remember ever doing.

[astarasstuff]

night crawler

summary: gojo loses his glasses at a frat party. geto loses his phone. they’ll soon find out what happened when geto’s phone is returned to him, with several drunken videos taken of that night on his camera roll, but not by him.

contents: modern!au, frat!satosugu, partygirl!reader, drinking, slight hints to itafushi but it’s mainly in jest, reader is besties with itadori and nobara but they’re only one year below gojo and geto, gojo and geto think ur so hot and fun and they want to get to know u. u have them whipped from literal video footage go you, horny thoughts from the both of them but no smut, still 18+! mdni!

notes: i can’t be bothered to make this pretty rn, so sorry!

“dude, where the fuck did my glasses go” gojo slurs snapping his head around the room in an attempt to find them. he has spares, but he’d like to find them anyway.

“i’m kinda busy trying to find my fucking phone?!” geto responds, and gojo throws his hands up defensively.

the party was fucking huge. one of the biggest. the college football team, of which both gojo and geto were a part of, had won a massive anticipated game against their biggest rivals. and as such, a celebration was in order.

there were too many people in this party to count. faces of people the boys had never seen before. they don’t doubt that a good bunch of the guests don’t even go to their college. they don’t care. they end up getting too drunk to care about their lost items, convinced they'll find them soon enough. they get busy with the huddles of women that surround them and before they know it they’re either blacked out or passed out, they don’t care.

they do care in the morning, however, with raging hangovers and girls who have overstayed their welcome, of whom they usher out of their rooms as soon as possible. they meet coincidentally in the hallway and make their way downstairs for breakfast.

“dude, suguru, we found your phone!” one of the bros shouts to him and geto sighs a sigh of relief. gojo then whines about his glasses still being missing. he goes off to check the aftermath of the party for his glasses, and gives up when he decides he can’t see them past the red solo cups and dead disposables vapes that litter all corners of the floor.

as gojo potters back into the kitchen, geto is in the middle of checking through his phone, making sure it's okay and trying to find evidence of what happened that night. he soon finds it in his camera roll.

a string of videos are available that weren’t there previously, all of varying lengths. he taps on the first one, as gojo looks over his shoulder in curiosity.

some guys is recording using the back camera, as the first couple of seconds of the video show just the surroundings. the camera then twists around, and they get a look at who’s behind the camera. at first, they just see the guy with pink hair? he’s singing to the current song playing, which happens to be night crawler by travis scott. the frame then widens to allow one more person into the view. and gojo figures out where his glasses went.

coming into the frame was one of the prettiest girls either boy had ever seen. perched on her head were gojo's signature glasses. your voice is croaky as you shout out to the camera.

“we found this phone on the ground! we were worried it’d get smashed so we picked it up but we couldn’t find the owner, so we thought we’d take care of it instead!!" you scream at the camera and get a little too close, evidently drunk.

the buildup of the chorus begins and both you and your friend look at each other with excitement, beginning to dance and sing along to the song. your friend turns in front of you so its just you in the frame, and you pull gojos glasses down from your head and into the top of your nose, looking through them into the camera as you sing along. more of your friends come into frame, and you're all dancing together.

“i don’t know whose glasses these are!!!! some guy just put them on my head but they're cute so i'm borrowing them for the night!! i'll leave them here though! hopefully…” you mumble and then the chorus is about to start and you both start jumping and screaming and dancing, and all the boys can think about is how fucking hot you are and how glad they were they lost their items to you. you pull the glasses down your nose again to wink at the camera as you and some girl they assume is your friend start dancing on each other. both men gulp at the sight.

“fuck, she’s pretty.” geto mumbles and gojo just hums and nods in agreement, almost in a trance. he urges geto to keep watching the videos

the rest of the videos are like a compilation of sorts, mainly if you dancing and drinking and gojo and geto both think you’re so much fun and so fucking pretty, they feel their cocks beginning to strain in their pants. god, you’re so so pretty, gojo just wants to fuck you silly in just his glasses, and geto can stop thoughts of how good you'd look on camera as you cum all over his dick. they both baulk at the sudden debauchery that forced its way into their minds. they try to shake such impure thoughts of someone they don't even know out of their heads.

the next video catches their attention. it's longer than the last couple, and it starts with you propping up the phone on the counter of a bathroom, with your pink-haired friend and a brunette girl who had been dancing with you the entire night. gojo notes that you've pushed his glasses up back onto your head, revealing your full pretty face to them again, this time in better lighting.

"maaan i wish megumi were here!" your guy friend said, as you take your lip combo from him that he'd been keeping safe for you in the pocket of his jeans. gojo and geto begin to worry your relationship with him was not platonic. wait what? "you know him, yuuji, hell would freeze over before he came to one of these" you giggle as you uncap your lip liner and start applying it in the mirror. yuuji. the boys make a mental note at that name.

“stiilllllllll,” he whines, “doesn’t mean I’ll miss him any less.” the other girl in the room laughs at this. “christ, separate yuuji from his boyfriend and all of a sudden he’s pouting like toddler.” you stop applying your lip liner to giggle at her, definitely finding it a tad too funny. you’re cute when you’re drunk, they conclude. “he’s not my boyfriend.” the boy they now know as yuuji has adopted a tone akin to a child being denied their favourite candy at the store. “that’s what you think.” you giggle and move to apply your lipgloss.

now, gojo and geto like to think they’re not absurdly dirty minded. yes, they’re pretty sex driven, as any boy their age is, but they both felt like a pair of prepubescent boys seeing boobs for the first time when you applied your lipgloss to your pretty pretty lips. The colour compliments you so well, and they just want to kiss is right off you, better yet have it smeared on their co-

christ they both need a cold shower.

“girl I’ll never get over that combo on you.” the other girl in the room with you says. “right? i love it so much.” you say looking at both you her in the reflection of the mirror. “god we’re so hot nobara.” you say and this ‘nobara’ squeals in agreement as you giggle together. yuuji smiles at the interaction, and you turn to the camera.

“hey mystery person, don’t we all look hot?” and you swing your arms over your two friends and you look so happy, you all giggling together. god, you were pretty, fun and your smile was gorgeous. did you have any flaws? the boys both startle when you and yuuji gasp as you begin to hear ‘no hands’ by waka flocka flame from the speakers outside the party. “oh fuck i love this song i am not missing it. let’s go!” you squeal and grab the camera, pressing a kiss to the lens as a goodbye.

it wasn’t a final goodbye, evidently, as there were more videos. they were more of the short miscellaneous dancing ones, though they weren’t complaining. your body was to die for, and seeing you move like that? yeah, absolutely no complaints. they make it to the final video, which is just you in what they think is their supply closet? you still have gojo glasses on, and you speak as loudly as you can, music still penetrating to the room with you.

“we’re about to leave! yuuji got to drunk and is throwing up somewhere and nobara is keeping him in check… i hope. so i came to say gooooodbye! this is kinda sad, this was so fun. sorry for stealing your phone for the night, mystery person. we just wanted to keep it safe, i hope you weren’t too worried! im hoping to put it on the nightstand of a bedroom that isn’t currently occupied by horny college goers, so hopefully one of the frat bros finds it and can keep hold of it until you come to collect it! i hope you had as much fun tonight as i did, mwah!” and you finish by blowing a kiss to the camera with a wink. both of them are pretty upset the vlogs have ended, and it’s pretty evident you ended up going home with gojo glasses. oh well, they’re in great hands now anyway.

“you have to send me those.” gojo says after a beat. “in you dreams.” geto replies and gojos mouth drops at this. “it’s my phone.” geto declares. “well, yeah but she was wearing my glasses. and she said they were cute. cmon man.” and they begin to squabble when they’re interrupted by one if the brothers, calling their attention to a guest who probably lost something last night and came to get it back. they don’t expect to see who’s actually there.

it’s you. less dolled up and in casual clothes but still as fucking pretty. you’re evidently tired, and they can feel the embarrassment radiate from you. they immediately stop arguing, geto turning off his phone and turning to face you.

“um, im so sorry to interrupt your day,” you start and they both think about how thankful they were you did interrupt their day. “i, err, i accidentally took home these glasses last night. i don’t know who they belong to, so i thought it was a safe bet to drop them off here in case someone comes looking for them.” you shuffle your feet shyly and bring forth the glasses for them to see. who knew such a party girl could get so shy. god you were so fucking sweet it was almost bad for them. gojo grins and begins to step forward.

“those are mine, pretty girl. thanks for returning ‘em.” gojo grins as he walks up to you. you flush, and geto comes to join his bestfriends side. the pretty girl they’d been entranced by all morning was now right in front of them. and they’ll be damned if they this opportunity go to waste.

[g1rlken]

hi dolly! 💕i just discovered ur blog n i love ur writing sooo much! 🙈💞 can u pls do 2 or 16 for nate!! 💗💗

you’re so freaking nice woah I love u sm 😠🫶🏼

Prompt: 2. Sunshine x grumpy + 16. Help get out of a toxic relationship

Nate Jacobs x fem!reader

2.7k words

-

Just the ninth if not the tenth party of the month. Another house party, on a school night, way past her usual bedtime and really overwhelming that it just won’t near its end. Y/n couldn’t bare it sometimes but she had to attended because her boyfriend Ryan did. It was fun though, driving him home as he’d be piss drunk and the party itself had the most obnoxious teenage charm. In order to block out on the godawful bass and flickering lights y/n guided herself into the kitchen when Ryan most probably didn’t even notice.

“Oh what have we here!” Nate exclaimed as he followed in some time after, she jumped down from the kitchen counter where she previously sat with an awkward smile. She’d known of Nate and him partially. They were supposed friends ever since that one term last year where she had to tutor him. Though they didn’t really reconnect after that once she started seeing Ryan. It was somewhat majorly due to him that y/n didn’t see a lot of her friends who seemed potential threats to him.

“Hi” she greeted him awkwardly looking out the door to see if Ryan was coming, she was scared he’d cause a scene if he saw her with Nate. Even if it was just a conversation, two of them at a reasonable distance with a probable small talk following. Ryan wouldn’t have it, he’d loose his shit over her even breathing in the direction of some other guy.

Nate could tell that she was a bit frantic over something and he was fast to connect it was a ‘someone’ rather. “What are you doing here all alone?” He asked pouring himself a glass of water.

“Nothing really just uh-“ she tried thinking of proper words to say. But the soft dread of Ryan walking in any minute made her mind preoccupied.

Nate interrupted her pause, “Beer pong’s too boring for you? Already calculated the probability of winning?” He joked, when she had helped him with math and there were similar questions as such counting probably of winning a coin toss. So it was a small jab from something between them.

A small laugh seemed to escape her genuinely as he correlated their previous connection through maths, “I didn’t think about that wow…” she trailed off, “one throw amongst ten glasses”

“One in ten probability of winning.” He answered his instant calculation.

“I don’t know the glasses are set up like a triangle and they’re not all equally probable to get in, maybe we take like one row at a time and then apply bayes theorem for each-“ she was going off about the self curated math problem between the two of them as he listened intently but looked absolutely clueless so she stopped herself “oh wait I’m rambling aren’t I? Sorry” she cringed to herself letting out a soft chuckle.

“It’s alright sweetheart” he added with a shrug, “I like hearing you talk.”

“Surely because math is so fun isn’t it?” She said sarcastically rolling her eyes at him.

“It’s not. But when you talk like that, it’s fun to watch.” Nate replied just mildly, contrary to his chance making intentions out of this conversation. Even apart from that he did mean that, he’d missed it, her.

“Like what?”

“That…” he pointed to her face vaguely, unable to describe how her eyes lit up and a cheery tone followed her voice whenever she talked about something she liked without being made felt like it was a chore to the listener “You get all smiley...happy. When you talk about something you love”

“Well I don’t necessarily love math.” She told him, it was true. Despite of being good at something, having a passion for it was unilateral to it.

“I guess you love being heard then.” It might just have been a note as Nate mentioned it so casually but as she thought about it, she couldn’t help but wander back to Ryan and how he never listened.

No. That couldn’t be, everyone’s a different lover perhaps “Yeah…” she trailed off with a small smile as her expression fell. Comprehending those moments where talking to Ryan about something in her life would just feel like talking to a wall.

“What’s wrong?” Nate asked catching on her fallen expression.

“What?” She asked confused, nonchalant because surely he wouldn’t fix anything “Nothing…”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, what’s wrong?”

“What?” She frowned but couldn’t help laugh when she saw his ever so concerned face like her smile falling was that big of a deal. “Nothing’s wrong!” As a joke, she splashed some of the tap water on his flickering it on him through her fingers. She laughed as he took the attack of tiny droplets.

“You did not just-“ if it were some one else he would’ve most probably said the worst cusses in the book but with her he just let out a small huff.

“Did what?” She attempted to sprinkle his face once again but this time he got a hold of her wrists with one of his hands, she couldn’t contain her laughter. It was infectious to him as well, this light hearted moment was flooded all over like a forest fire with an irking voice.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” Ryan seethed, y/n immediately pulled her hands away from Nate’s as that boy strided in.

“W-we uh were just talking” y/n spoke frantically, it was disheartening to Nate to see her all panicky and frantic again, when she was just laughing and at peace a few moments ago.

“That’s what you’ve come up with?” Ryan questioned as he aggressively walked towards her “Why do you always have to slut your way about, everywhere I take you huh?”

“I wasn’t doing anything I swear-we were just talking, I used to tutor him math and we were just reconnecting over it I-“ y/n jumped rapidly to explain herself before Nate could intervene for her.

“Over math huh?” Ryan scoffed “Someone dumb like you? You were talking about math?”

“Hey calm the fuck down alright” Nate interjected before y/n could. “She said we were just talking so we were just talking.” He added authority to her words but it just made things worse.

“This is our matter so can you fuck off?” Ryan barked at Nate, the two weren’t friends but just distant acquaintances. Ryan naturally couldn’t stand anyone trying to talk to her because it was all ‘flirting’ and Nate couldn’t naturally stand y/n because that boy made his sun rays embodied girl feel awful.

“No.” Nate said adamantly “How about you grow a pair and stop being a little bitch about everyone who looks in her direction? Do you not think yourself man enough to keep her or do you have to berate her to have her around?” Nate was poking at him purposely because he himself wanted a go at this guy but he didn’t want y/n to think Nate was the guy who’d throw first punch, even though he wanted to.

But that was it, Nate received the punch he was asking for but he barely flinched very overpowered with his own urge of showing Ryan his place they two were at each other’s throats. This was the exact scene y/n was worried about Ryan creating, she tried to soothe the fight pleading them both but it didn’t work.

“Get off of him!” She kept on trying as she held Ryan from his arm, trying to tug him away but it was distracting him so much from throwing his hands at Nate. Her constant nagging and tugging.

“Get the fuck off me!” Ryan roared at y/n pushing her off of him very aggressively, intently pushing her so hard she fell to the ground and that was when Nate no longer held his punches. He beat the boy bloody red. By now the others had gathered too to help escalate the situation but it was of no help, Nate was like an animal unleashed.

-

A week since that, y/n couldn’t even meet Nate’s eye. She ignored him in hallways, changing her direction, she sat far across him in class always hurrying out before he could talk. She wouldn’t reply to his messages, not even see them. He hadn’t seen her around with Ryan either in their designated spots around the school so that was a good sign but he just wanted to talk this out with her because he couldn’t understand the relentless feeling of having lost her. Even as a friend. He never regretted having beaten Ryan, he deserved it. Nate was so certain of it. But y/n. He hated thinking she saw him differently after that, his obnoxious rage to protect that he wanted to cherish. Did it repel her? He felt entitled to at least find that out, he’d leave her be to just glance from the sidelines and wait till she’ll finally look his way if that made her happy but he’d like to know.

Another house party after that one with a facade, Nate as he lounged with his friends overheard a group of girls behind him gossiping about how y/n and Ryan are back together. Eavesdropping as his blood boiled he found out that she’ll probably be around here since Ryan’s here. When he heard that he immediately rose to his feet setting down his beer without a care to respond to his mates who asked about his sudden leave, they kept asking where he was going before he was lost in the crowd. He could barely register anything at this point.

As he walked through the crowd in disbelief and anger he finally did find y/n, out in the garden with some other girls he simple pulled her by her arm to himself without a word or explanation to others he received a few woahs he didn’t care for.

Nate would’ve pulled her aside to talk to her if she was standing with Ryan if that boy weren’t to busy getting piss drunk. “Hey!” Y/n resisted trying to walk herself but he continued to drag her with a tight grip on his arm getting to a quieter place by the small space between the backward and out shed. “Nate what are you-“

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked her, brows furrowed.

“What? What are you talking about…” y/n trailed off as some embarrassment and regret creeped within her but she full well knew what he was talking about.

“How are you even seeing Ryan again? Are you out of your mind?!” He exclaimed. He had so much to demand about, Nate swallowed his pride with timid hurt whenever she ignored him. He could bare her dismissiveness but not her sadness.

“Look…” She breathed unable to meet his gaze, “it’s different-“

“It’s different is it? What is tell me, has he come up with more ways to make you feel shitty?”

Remaining silent as she looked to the ground like it was the most interesting thing ever she felt horrible. Even more horrible of the life she could be otherwise leading but the life she was afraid of leaving. Afraid of the change leaving ryan would bring, afraid of its consequence the emotional weight.

“And you’ve been ignoring me this entire time. Do you think I can’t see that?” Nate spoke and this time she looked up increasingly confused at how he could see through her that much “You don’t look at me, always hurry away even right now you can’t even meet my eyes what are you so afraid of?!”

“It’s just…it’s difficult to explain” y/n tried to reply mildly as she sighed on the verge of tears.

“As long as you can explain it to yourself right?” He scoffed, really agitated how she couldn’t see what he could. Nate was an intense lover too, ferocious one that. But he’d never make her feel this miserable if she was his. She wouldn’t even have to be his he just wanted Ryan to leach away from her because she’d be happier exactly like she was before that boy. Constantly governing her and disrespectful. Nate had a bad temper and he was difficult but he’d never be difficult enough to the extent of hurting her.

Now tears brimmed her eyes and he instantly held back from his words realising just how distressing it must be for her “Hey…hey” he urged her raising her chin with his fingers to make him look at him “I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry…” he apologised but it didn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. “Y/n…it’s alright” he brought her to himself enlacing her into his arms and he rubbed her back letting her cry it out.

“I just don’t know what to do-he—he apologised and he said he’d change and this is the second time this has happened and I-i felt embarrassed to see you because you did so much and yet I went back to him…I keep on doing this, I just, I’m very lost on that account” she wept “He’s my first-first everything and I do really like him but he just makes me miserable and awful. Every second I’m with him I just feel horrible I don’t even want to be here at this party but I am…because of him.”

“Look at me” he said pulling away from the hug to face her but she still kept looking down so Nate cupped her face in his hands “Look” he urged “It’s okay…it’s difficult. You’re learning to love and you’re too attached to him right now. You will get out of it only if you get out of it. You have gotten over much difficult things and you have been okay. You’ll be okay this time around too.”

“How do you know that?” She asked as her voice broke but her tears composed.

“Because I love you.” Nate blurted and didn’t even regret it, almost felt free of letting out a feeling so intense in him whether or not she reciprocated “I love you. I love all of you and I’m not embarrassed to admit it but I want you whole. I want you happy, I promise you i will maintain it and I don’t want you to think of it now” he said wiping her tears “we’re going to go home. I’ll drop you home. You’re not answerable to anyone if you don’t want to be at a place you don’t want to be. You think about Ryan, break up, sort your head out yeah? You deserve better than him because love shouldn’t make you feel awful and miserable. it doesn’t necessarily have to be me or anyone, your own self needs you the most right now. Act right by you.”

Nate drove her home after that, she was truly glad. The car ride was full of a comfortable silence and the genuine serene smile which adorned her face when she told him good night after dropping her off was all worth it to Nate.

Following two days were a bit long as Nate didn’t hear from y/n in any way. She wasn’t even at school. The game day was on the weekend so people rarely came from class these days. Regardless on the game day when he had to play himself he searched for her in the crowd full of people but couldn’t find her. That’s what he told himself weighing light on the fact that she might not have showed up.

He played his well that game, where they won. But he still felt like he had lost somewhat. Since he didn’t have y/n, or a sign of her that could bring his heart some peace. It’s as if his wish was turned alive, he saw y/n come rushing towards the team where everyone was congratulating each other.

He dropped his helmet to the floor when she came running and picked her up in his arms, feeling won, feeling at home. Nate hugged her as if she wouldn’t exist if he let go and likewise. Y/n finally felt liberated, happy, like herself again. Following his word of advise.

Y/n had broken up with Ryan, with a lot of comprehension and conversations with her feelings y/n had reciprocated Nate’s. “I love you too” she replied to what she couldn’t that night at the party and he smiled so hugely kissing her as she was still lifted up into his arms. She kissed him back wrapping her arms around him and like he’d promised, she felt alright again.

HEY!!!! Please let me know your thoughts I will think about it twice a week if you commented a smile face even. Anyways, THANK YOU for reading I love you and go drink water

+is my nate semi non toxic? Yes as a descendant of bob the builder family I fixed him

[555aturn]

Whispers of Zaun⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

chapter two

chapter one if you haven’t read it

summary- Sevika leaves before dawn, offering no explanation, leaving the shopkeeper to puzzle over her own expectations before seeking distraction in the rhythms of her daily work. But when Silco appears with unexpected gratitude and Sevika later returns under his orders, an unspoken tension begins to form—one that lingers even as a late-night tarot reading hints at a future bound by choices she may not be ready to make.

warnings-talks of death (again nothing graphic) mentions illness and grief and I think that's it!

words- 2.14k

a/n- yay! I committed and wrote another one. jk I love writing this lol. HELLA SEVIKA in this chapter annnnnd smut in the next one (unfortunately not sevika x reader...yet this is gonna be a slow burn y'all) but I'm thinking witchy!reader brothel scene for chapter 3 anyone?? okay enjoy pls comment if u like it or dislike.

minors don’t enter!!!

I wanted to wake up extra early so I could assist Sevika this morning, but when I walked through the beaded curtain…She was gone. I scoffed to myself. Of course she left. I don't know why I thought she would stay. Or accept my help. I know people have mixed feelings on my beliefs and what I do here in my shop, but she came to me. 

So naturally I am confused. But nonetheless, it’s less stuff on my hands, so I put some food and water into Hex’s bowls and go back to my room to get dressed.

I decided on a black corset top—very Zaun chic and one of my flowy skirts. Of course, all of my rings and at least two necklaces. I throw salt over my shoulder and walk out of my shop to get some breakfast. Since I’m up.

I make the short walk to Jericho’s. “Hey big man, how are you this fine morning?” I asked Jericho. He grumbled, “Good.” I nodded. “That’s wonderful. Are you serving breakfast?” He nodded with a smile. “Awesome, may I have your breakfast burrito bowl, please? Thank you!” I handed him the change and sat on one of his stools.

After a marvelous breakfast, I walked back to the shop and started lighting my candles. 

An hour has gone by since opening. I resorted to reading one of my novels on my sofa. Until the bell rang, I got up and dusted myself off and froze. It was Silco himself. He never came to the shop. Only that very first day he took charge and marked me down as one of his allies—not by choice.

“Silco, what can I do for you this morning?”

I say obviously on edge as I lace my fingers behind my back. 

“Dear, is it true Sevika came by last night?” He said in his usual smooth tone.

“Yes, she did, and she was bleeding pretty badly. I patched her up and let her sleep on my sofa, but she got up and left before I woke up.” I said quickly. He nodded. 

“I deeply appreciate you taking her in; she’s recovering well because of you. Thank you.” It felt odd hearing Silco, one of the most feared men of Zaun, thanking me for something. “Well, it is what you signed me up for.” I said, and he chuckled.

“Would you like some tea?” I asked. He nodded no. “Sorry dear, I have something to take care of… I just wanted to thank you for your services because they did not go unnoticed. Have a good one.” And with that, he left.

By midday, the shop is alive with visitors. A factory worker limps in, knuckles split. "Damn pipes snapped again." I tut at him, already reaching for a salve. "You should quit." He snorts. "You paying my bills, then?" I chuckled. 

A few coins clatter on the counter. I shook my head but handed him the remedy anyway.

Later, an old woman stops by, speaking in hushed tones about how her grandson has been coughing since the last factory fire. I listen closely. Zaun breathes poison, and its people have learned to live with it—but that doesn't mean I will let it go unanswered.

I prepared a mixture, pressing the bottle into the woman's hands. "One drop in his tea."

The old woman nods, tucking it away. “Thank you, dear.” And with that, she left.

By the afternoon, the shop had seen its usual mix of visitors. I sell a few poisons, read two tarot spreads, and get the full rundown from Seraphine about her date.

Apparently, it went perfectly, which means I'll be hearing about this man every time she visits—until he inevitably disappoints her. 

As the shop quiets down, I take a moment to tidy the shelves, rearranging bottles and bundles of dried herbs. The scent of lavender and citrus lingers in the air, a fleeting comfort against the ever-present weight of Zaun.

Hex watches from her perch, tail flicking lazily, as if amused by the steady rhythm of my work. The quiet never lasts long, though.

The bell above the door jingles, and I expect another regular—or maybe Seraphine again, already overanalyzing her date. But when I step out from behind the counter, I find myself face-to-face with Sevika.

She stands in the doorway, towering over me, with the same guarded expression I’ve come to expect from her. Her usual confidence is slightly muted, as if something about this visit makes her uncomfortable.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” I remark, raising an eyebrow as I wipe my hands on my skirt.

Sevika grunts, shifting on her feet. “Silco sent me. He thinks I should thank you properly for patching me up last night.” She crosses her arms, clearly not thrilled by the idea.

I nod, stepping forward and giving her a once-over. “You don’t look like you need another round of bandages, so what does ‘thank you’ look like in your world?”

She looks at me, unamused. “I don’t know, lady, but I’m here. What else do you want me to do?”

I chuckle under my breath. “Sit down. Tea, maybe? Or would you rather just stand here in silence and watch me acknowledge your shitty ‘thank you’?" I said with a light, bitter tone. But to my surprise, Sevika sat down on my sofa and just mumbled something. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that. What is it?” I said, leaning over her, my necklaces dangling slightly. “I said you better not poison me, and I ain’t stayin long.” Sevika said with an equally bitter attitude. Except I think she really means hers. 

“What would you like? I have many herbs and flowers I can brew into tea for you.” I said, stepping back now and looking at her, waiting for an answer. 

“I don’t want any flowery shit; get me something normal… please.” Sevika grumbled. It took all of my being not to let out a quiet gasp; I can’t believe Sevika of all people had any manners. I thought it was just Ran. 

“I got just the thing.” And with that I went behind my counter to rummage through my bags of herbs. I had the perfect combination of herbs. It’s a lemon balm and ginger pack. The vibes just give Sevika to me. 

I go behind my beaded curtain to boil the kettle of water. I decided to go back out there with her while I waited.��

To my complete utter surprise, Hex was purring at Sevika’s boots, some very dirty boots at that. “Wow, Hex seems to like you; she usually hisses at every customer that walks in here. I am shocked.”

Sevika just scoffs. “Am I supposed to care?” She rolled her gray eyes at me. “No, but you can pretend since this is you coming here to ‘properly thank me.” I bit back. Before Sevika could respond, the kettle started to whistle, and I rushed back behind the curtain. 

I came back out with two steaming mugs and hesitantly sat on the sofa next to her, at a distance, of course. But it isn’t the biggest piece of furniture considering I got it from a small business in Zaun, and now that I look at her, Sevika is a whole fucking unit; she took up almost half the whole couch.

“Here you go, careful it’s hot.” I handed her the mug. Sevika just sat there holding the mug while manspreading an insane amount. How can one person spread their legs so wide? Not that it matters…Of course.

I brought my own mug up to my lips and blew into it, hoping to cool off the liquid so I could drink it. The silence was so thick and awkward it started to make my mind race. Seeing Sevika here is so odd for a number of reasons. First off, she never comes here. I think the other night when she was bleeding might have been her third time altogether. And she is a complete traitor to Vander, and she knew I was one of his good friends, and she just shows up here in the middle of the damn night expecting me to patch her up. Well, that is the end of the deal I have with Silco, but still. 

A small slurp from beside me takes me out of my thoughts. Sevika was drinking the tea. 

“Do you like it?” I ask as I take a sip from my own mug. Sevika nodded. “I actually do.” Pride swells in my tummy, dancing with the flavors of the herbs from my tea. “Good.” I said simply. After another minute or two, Sevika chugs the remaining liquid, sets the mug on my side table, and stands up. 

“Thank you.” She said, dusting her flesh hand and mechanic hand on her leather pants, and left, walking out the door, bell jingling as she did so. 

I just sat there and stared at the mug she left on the table, stained with the black lipstick that adorned her lips. I stare at the mug for a moment longer, tracing the shape of the smudged lipstick with my eyes. Strange, how something as simple as a stain could make Sevika feel more... real. Less like Silco's enforcer, more like someone who sat in my shop, drank my tea, and however begrudgingly thanked me for it.

Hex leaps onto the table, sniffing at the mug before promptly knocking it over with a flick of her paw. I sigh, shaking my head as I stand to clean up the mess.

The shop is quiet again, but the air feels different, like something has shifted.

Whether that's a good thing or a dangerous one, I haven't decided yet.

Before I can dwell on it, the bell jingles again—another customer, another distraction.

Business never stops in Zaun, and neither do I.

The day went by slowly after that. But it has finally come to its end. After I close up the shop and clean, I decide to do a tarot reading on myself.

The shop is quiet again. Just me, Hex curled up on the counter, and the weight of lingering thoughts pressing against my chest. I exhale and shuffle my tarot deck. It's been a while since I pulled for myself. Maybe it's the quiet, but something makes me feel like I need clarity.

I drew three cards. Past. Present. Future.

The Past: The Five of Pentacles

A card of loss. Of struggle. I swallow hard.

I know what this is about before I even let my eyes fully rest on it. Zaun is a city of ghosts, and I’ve lost my fair share to it. Vander, Powder, Vi. Pieces of my life were taken by fire and smoke, leaving me with nothing but empty space. Even now, I feel the cold weight of it—absence, grief, the quiet echo of what used to be.

I move on.

The Present: Strength (Reversed)

Not a bad card. Not exactly a good one, either. Strength reversed speaks of inner battles, of restraint turned to self-doubt. It whispers that I’ve been holding something back—whether it's my emotions, my instincts, or something deeper, I don’t know.

I think of Sevika, of the way she grumbled through her tea and left without much fuss. A simple ‘thank you,’ nothing more. But the way she lingered, the way her hands rested on her thighs before she stood—it wasn’t hesitation, not exactly. But it wasn’t nothing either.

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and flip the last card.

The Future: The Lovers (Reversed)

I pause.

The Lovers is a card of connection, choices, and bonds that tangle together whether you want them to or not. But reversed, it carries a different weight—uncertainty, imbalance, something forming that neither side is ready for. It isn’t doom, but it isn’t simple either.

I frown, running my thumb over the edge of the card.

A forced connection, a choice that wasn’t truly mine to make—Silco’s influence looms over me more than I like to admit. Could this be about him? Or is it about something else? Something… someone.

I push the thought aside.

Hex stretches, tail flicking lazily as she watches me with her sharp yellow eyes. “What do you think, little terror?” I ask her, holding up the reversed Lovers card. She meows, unimpressed, and promptly knocks it off the table.

I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

Still, as I gather the cards and shuffle them back into the deck, the image lingers in my mind.

A bond that shouldn’t make sense. A choice I might not be ready for.

And the feeling that, somehow, it’s already been set in motion.

[pathetickuroo]

fukutora hcs bc theyre funny

- fukunaga shohei #1 lover of badddd bad bad bad movies. terrible films. not good. we're talking sharknado snakes on a plane willys wonderland velocipastor that one thanksgiving slasher film that i cant remember the name of rn (dont think abt the mechanics of it being a thanksgiving movie too hard). generally not a movie enjoyer i think but most certainly clocking in for shit that is Not Good

- tora is baffled every time but definitely not opposed to it (this guy loves cuddling on the couch i think he hits the fake yawn arm around shoulders maneuver like. regularlyyyy and fukunaga doesnt even pretend to think its silly anymore)

- "shohei this movie doesnt even make any sense" "🤷"

- tora the hugger from behind of All Time he is finding any possible excuse. "u look cold" or "makin up for lost time" or "i have practice in an hour plsss plssssss just let me have this PLSSSSSSS" (he uses that one in particular a lot) (fukunaga wouldnt have said no in the first place) (he thinks its cute so he doesnt say anything abt it)

- repressed-as-hell hs tora did not quiteee know what to do w whatever tf he had goin on so he didnt get the guts (ha) to say anything until a couple years after graduation (which he then said over text bc yokohama -> tokyo = long distance)

- fukunaga conveys thoughts in as few words as possible (which is fucking awesome btw if fukunaga has no fans it means ive died) BUT in order to preserve the meaning it sometimes takes a second to respond

- tora did Not have a good time attempting to navigate this when he was trying to confess

- bro immediately started freaking out to yaku "DUDE WHY DID I DO THAT THAT WAS SO STUPID" "omfg its fukunaga give him a second. impatient ass" "I THINK IM DYING" "jfc"

- meanwhile in tokyo fukunaga was staring at "i rly like u dude" trying to figure out if tora meant like (homie) or like (w/gay intent)

- fukunaga only ever calls tora by his full government given name when he is Displeased. tora used the pan he needed for dinner tn so now he has to wash it? taketora. tora rearranges his living room w no warning? taketora. doesnt even say it in a mean/angry tone or anything j matter of fact as all hell. honestly i think if fukunaga was ever genuinely angry abt smth hell would probably freeze over

- tora does get extremely pouty abt it tho. "shoheiii what did i do :(" "the pan" ".......OH FUC—"

- when tora first moved to yokohama he got a cat bc of course he did he graduated from nekoma. tf else was he supposed to do, get a dog? (maybe in the future)

- very very fluffy very cute very sweet tuxedo girl. her name is "destroyer" (yes really) he calls her badass on the reg and she is sooo cuddly w him. fukunaga finds all of this extremely funny

- in fact when fukunaga starts visiting suddenly destroyer doesnt gaf abt tora anymore. worse than pain of death in his opinion it is So Not Fair. first thing fukunaga does after he meets the cat is send a pic to the old nekoma gc "top 10 cats that like me more than they like their owners" tora throws a pillow at him "i RAISED her from a BABY" "did u rly" ".....NO BUT IT AINT RIGHT"

- after theyve been together a few months toras thinkin abt how fukunaga used to Never Talk Ever and he makes a joke "ha i guess i learned how to speak BODY language am i right. right shohei. thats funny right"

- fukunaga calls him taketora for a week. tora retires that joke permanently and they never speak of it again

- tora morning person fukunaga not-exactly-a-night-owl-but-doesnt-love-being-awake-at-5:30 person. one time fukunagas in yokohama for the weekend he wakes up at 6 annoyed as hell (tora got up at 5 and left for a run) bc wtf his pillow literally got up and walked away. falls back asleep wakes up again at 10 tora made not only coffee but pancakes too AND heated them up for him hes immediately like ok nvm this is fine actually no complaints (<- still gets annoyed when his human teddy bear ditches him)

- TORA BABE SAYER. hey babe thanks babe i missed u babe. but it took him foreverrrrrr (forever) to get comfortable actually saying it instead of thinkin inside so there was also (and still is) a lot of dude (romantic) bro (romantic) man (romantic).

- fukunaga doesnt like saying pet names or anything (but to be fair does he like saying ANYTHING most of the time) but does not mind being called them at all (that's a lie he thinks it's awesome and so so so sweet but when tora asks if it's okay he says he doesn't mind)

[tkaulitzlvr]

heyyyyy!! just wanted to start by saying i legit love ur writing so much ur one of my fav TH authors and i legit love seeing and reading ur stories. THEY R SO DAMN GOOD :)

anyways here the request if ur comfy lol IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG AND I NEED SOMEONE TO DO IT PLS QUEEN

soooo basically like 2017 soft dom tom and like we r in a car driving and like reader is rlly horny and hes teasing her LIKE CRAZYYYYY and resting his hand on her thigh and stuff and whispering dirty stuff to her giving her small neck kisses and pecks and like other teasing stuff (LOL IDK WHATEVER U WANT JUST SHIT TONE OF TEASING) and then when they get home he completely ignores reader and acts like it never happened and just acts normal and goes to watch tv on couch but then reader gets RLLY CLINGY and comes over and THEN STARTS TEASING TOM ON COUCH and like reader whispers stuff to him and neck kisses and the tom gets rlly nervous and then he gives up and like eats her out till shes BEGGING HIM TO STOP (so like some overstim) and then they fuck and yeah just smut smut smut. and tom and reader with praise kink and lots of dirty talk pretty pls. <3

HAH SORRY THAT WAS KINDA LONG AND DETAILED BUT YEAH ITS LEGIT MY DREAM STORY. pls only write if ur comfortable but yeah u can add whatever u want that would fit with the story and YEAH PLS MAKE IT GOOD!!! (u will ur amazing) yeah thankyouuuuuuuuu <3 :)

DESPERATE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you can’t contain yourself, basically throwing yourself at tom. he knows it, but wants to make you wait as long as he can, and it drives you crazy. but, he makes you realise that you should be careful what you wish for.

content: smut

a/n: thank u so much anon i’m glad u love my work, and i hope this lives up to ur expectations. also never written for older tom before so thanks for being my first req to write him🙏

he saw the glances i sent his way, the way my legs squeezed together, palms becoming a little sweaty. he noticed my breathing becoming a little erratic, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, feet tapping impatiently against the floor. he knew exactly what i wanted. but, even when i leaned over, running my hands across his inner thighs, closer and closer to his clothed dick, he kept his eyes on the road, knowing that he was driving me crazy, and he liked it.

“thinking of ordering pizza for dinner. you down?” he asks, completely ignoring my hands which are now directly over his crotch, and my eyes on him, filled with desire. he knows exactly what is doing, the slight smirk tugging on his lips telling me that, and i know that he won’t give up his little game yet. i am in for a long night, my eyes set on feeling him inside of me, willing to do literally anything to get that satisfaction, completely aware that he isn’t going to make it easy for me.

but, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease me either.

“mmm, i’d rather have you instead.” i mutter, knowing that he heard me.

we stop at a red light and he turns to me, his eyes dark, a familiar look of lust present within them. that same smirk is still on his face as he slowly leans over, planting a slow kiss just below my ear, his breath tickling the skin as he whispers into it. “who says you can’t have both?”

my eyes widen, the heat between my thighs only increasing, his words quickly causing me to become flustered, my cheeks flushing a light shade of crimson. he sees this, a small laugh escaping his lips as he plants soft kisses at my neck, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the harsh metal of his lip ring as it dances around the skin of my neck, my head tilting to the side to give him better access. his actions are abruptly cut off by the sound of a horn behind us, tom’s head shooting upwards, the traffic lights already having turned green.

he quickly adjusts himself, flashing me a quick wink before pulling his head out of my neck and beginning to drive away. my eyes focus on his hand on the gearstick, the way his veins flex, fingers tightly holding onto it, wanting nothing more for them to be moving inside of me. as if he had read my mind, he removes his hand, placing it onto my thigh, letting it travel further upwards, moving closer and closer to the place i need him most, his head still facing the road as he looks blankly at it as if he isn’t teasing me to the point that i could scream.

he moves his hand flat against me, and my body jerks in shock, his fingers slowly rubbing my clothed clit, he sees the reaction he gets out of me by doing this, smiling to himself before abruptly moving his hand away, returning it to its previous position on the gearstick as i whine in frustration.

“baby why’d you stop?” i sigh, placing my hand over his and trying to move it back over my heat, but he refuses, keeping it set on the gearstick.

“stop acting so impatient, liebe, or you know you won’t get anything. be good for me and maybe i’ll give you what you want, you just gotta wait till we get home, mhm?” he taunts, watching the way i quickly nod my head, smiling at my obedience, placing his hand back on my thigh, torturing me as his thumb begins slow movements over it.

so i stayed put, trying to distract myself literally however i could, the drive home seeming like hours as each second wasted time, time that could be spent with him inside of me. the teasing never stopped, tom kissing my ear, neck, collarbone, cheek, anywhere his lips could access whenever we stopped at a red light, promising that he’d give me what i so desperately needed once we got home. so i held on, restricting myself, his words keeping me going, acting as motivation as the reward of holding back was completely worth it.

a sigh of relief escapes my parted lips once he turns onto our driveway, my hands scrambling to undo the seatbelt, literally unable to contain myself at this point. tom however, takes his time, not stepping out of the car until i have reached the front door, unable to get in as he pulls the key from his pocket, slowly unlocking the door. i expect him to move onto me the second we walk in, pushing me against the wall, attacking me with kisses, showing me that he meant his promise, but he does the opposite.

he slowly kicks his shoes off, walking into the kitchen as i stand there, pissed off and feeling completely let down. i join him in the kitchen as he stands on his phone, leaning against the counter, a smile forming on his lips once he sees me walk in.

“what pizza do you want babe? i’m feeling like pepperoni.” he utters those words so nonchalantly, as if the things he had said to me, the way he had touched me in the car were all figments of my imagination. i mumble a small ‘get me anything, i don’t care’, before trudging to the living room, sexually frustrated, completely done with his teasing.

he joins me soon after, patting my thigh gently as he sits beside me, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the channels as if i wasn’t sat next to him, bored and desperate. i had reached my breaking point.

“tom…” i trail off, leaning towards him, my lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck, taking note of the way his breathing begins to quicken, knowing that i am slowly getting to him. but he doesn’t show it yet, his expression still blank, eyes still set on the tv in front of him.

“baby…” i mutter against his skin, my hand reaching for his crotch, palming him as a low groan emits from his now parted lips. he shuffles in his seat a little, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. still nothing. i reach underneath his t-shirt, my fingers tracing his abs, feeling every muscle, lips still attached to his neck. he doesn’t give in, keeping me waiting, which only frustrates him even more, but i can feel him slowly giving in, only motivating me more.

“please, i promise i’ll be good…” i slowly say, looking upwards at him before climbing onto his lap, straddling him as he has no choice but to look into my eyes. “i’ll be so good…”

i repeat my words, dipping my head so that it is underneath his chin, kissing his neck once again, sucking gently on the skin as i try to leave marks. but i am not finished yet. i slowly begin to grind against his clothed dick, moving back and forth at a teasingly slow pace. it doesn’t take long for his hands to grip at my hips, completely stopping my movements. bingo.

“so fucking impatient.” he mumbles, switching us around in one swift motion as he lays me on the couch, moving on top of me and messily colliding his lips with mine. “couldn’t wait at all could you, hm?”

i say nothing, too busy focusing on the way his lips move against mine. he clearly isn’t wasting anytime as i feel his hands move to my leggings, hooking his fingers around the hem, tugging them and my panties down, raking them down my legs and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. my own hands scramble for his t-shirt, taking it off of him and letting it find the pile of clothes on the floor, my own t-shirt and his pants following, only his boxers between us.

he reconnects our lips as a quiet ‘please’ escapes from my mouth, wanting more than just a kiss, having waited all night for this.

“please what? you know you have to use your words schatz.” he teases, his forehead against mine, waiting for me to speak.

“need you to touch me.” i whine, my hands finding his neck as i play with the loose strands of hair, watching the way he nods his head, seeming satisfied with my answer.

he crawls downwards, kissing each part of my body as he does so, nipping gently at the skin, enjoying the way my breathing is fast and heavy, low whines escaping my mouth. he reaches my inner thighs, still planting small kisses, one hand on each leg as he forces them both apart, letting his head rest in-between them, stopping his motions and looking upwards at me, his eyes meeting mine.

“you sure?” he asks, knowing full well what my answer is, using his breath to ask such a pointless question, knowing that it will only get me more riled up.

“yes tom just- fuck! touch me, ple-.” i sigh out, my pleading soon cut off when i feel his tongue delve into me, my mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as i my hands find their way into his hair, pushing him further into me.

“oh my god!” i cry, feeling his tongue hit all the right spots inside of me, knowing that it won’t take long for the familiar knot to form in my stomach, his teasing meaning that the smallest of touches had the biggest effect on me. he groans against me, the bass in his throat sending a vibration through me, yet another moan spilling from my lips, his name never being said this many times before.

his pointer finger finds its way to my clit, rubbing slow circles whilst his tongue continues to drill inside of me, my release building up inside of me.

“getting close. don’t stop, oh my god please don’t stop!” i beg, my hands lost within the thick strands of brunette hair, the previous tidy bun messy thanks to me, but he didn’t seem to mind, only focused on feeling me get to my end.

his tongue touches my g-spot, a high pitch moan unlike no other i had uttered coming from the back of my throat. he picks up on this, directly hitting that spot over and over, my vision clouding, eyes rolling to the back of my head, way too lost in pleasure to process the fact that the knot in my stomach had released, tom swallowing all of my juices. i expect him to stop, my chest heaving up and down, coming down from my high, every part of me sensitive, but he keeps going at a fast pace - if not quicker than before.

“too much! can’t take it.” i breathe out, my thighs squeezing against his head, careful not to apply too much pressure, but he only smiles against me, completely ignoring my pleas.

“you wanted me to touch you.” he mutters into me, replacing his mouth with his fingers so he can speak more clearly. “so that’s what i’m gonna do schatz.”

and he sticks to his words, his tongue moving back inside me, the overstimulation quickly taking over, my entire body jolting when he hits the sensitive spots inside of me, unable to take the pleasure.

“please…i can’t…too much…”

my words are incoherent, not able to form full sentences as i feel another release building up.

“not stopping until you say the word baby.” he mumbles against me, referring to our safe word that i have only had to use once. he knows that i won’t say it, secretly enjoying the pleasure despite the pain that comes with it, taking all of it in. “you can give me one more, doing so well.”

i take in every single word of praise he gives me, using it to work through the pain, focusing on the pleasure, using it to guide me to my release, my eyes squeezing shut, head falling backwards as it takes over, my back arching off of the couch, this one much more powerful than the last. he swallows everything, planting a few kisses on my lips as i wince, completely spent. my body lays limp on the couch, his moving upwards so that he is hovering above me. he kisses me softly, his thumb reaching upwards and wiping a few tears that i hadn’t even realised had fallen.

he sits up, taking his boxers off, stopping them at his knees, not even bothering to fully remove him. he lifts my body, sitting me on top of him so i am straddling him.

“you did so well baby. you think you can handle just one more, for me?” he asks, running his hands up and down my hips, watching as i tiredly nod my head, a small smile spreading across his face.

i position myself onto him, slowly sliding downwards as he fills me up.

“fuckkkk.” he drags out, his head falling backwards and resting on the top of the couch, his hands tightly holding my hips, fingers digging into the flesh.

i stop about halfway, feeling completely full, not sure how i will be able to take all of him. he sees that i am struggling, kissing my cheeks gently , moving down to my collarbone.

“you feel so good baby, keep going, you’re almost there. shit- so fucking good.”

low groans escape his mouth as i nod my head, continuing to sink onto him until i am fully sat on him, my mouth dropping open, wincing a little at the pain, his fingers nothing compared to the size of him. i place my hands on his chest, trying to steady myself as i begin bouncing up and down, tom moaning loudly, his hands never leaving my hips, watching me move on him.

“so fucking tight, oh my god…” he sighs out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shut as i speed up my movements, whining as he hits a totally new angle, never feeling so good, so full before.

his forehead glistens with sweat, muscles flexing every time he squeezes my hips, his fingers leaving marks into my skin, but i don’t complain, the feeling only increasing my stamina. my walls clench around him unconsciously, tom groaning whenever i do it, the feeling only bringing him closer to the edge.

“just like that.” he groans, his voice deep. “yeah, shit baby- feels so good.”

after my two orgasms, it doesn’t take me long to become tired, my movements slow and sloppy. my body collapses onto his chest, frustrated as i am getting close, unable to get there myself. he notices this quickly, beginning to thrust upwards into me, loud moans echoing throughout the room as i try my best to meet his movements, rotating my hips a little, feeling him deeper inside me than i ever have before.

“i’m close. don’t stop.” i manage to say, messily colliding his lips with mine, his tongue exploring my mouth whilst his strokes remain strong and deep, hitting all the right spots.

“me too baby.” he mutters between kisses. “almost there, you’re doing so so well.”

his dick twitches inside of me as he thrusts in and out a few more times, before his cum shoots into me. his head quickly falls backwards, eyebrows furrowing, mouth falling open as a long groan falls from it, his release triggering my own as i clench around him for the last time. he thrusts a few more times, riding out our highs, our heavy breathing and skin slapping together the only thing sounding throughout the quiet room.

he kisses my lips once more, pulling apart as his forehead leans against mine, arms holding me within his embrace, skin pressed together.

“you did so good meine liebe. took me so well.” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath as i am unable to respond, totally worn out, my body weak as it rests in his for support.

his lips gently kiss my forehead, one hand running through my hair whilst the other gently strokes my back, his breathing calming down as he utters sweet nothings in my ear until i fall asleep within his embrace, completely exhausted.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!