#without even thinking twice whether it could mean something else

[mita-vittua-olivia]

random thing i just remembered; when käärijä was doing the gigs on baltic princess i didn’t understand it was a ship and whenever i read the name, i thought we had just made up a new nickname for him

[darkmatilda]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it's time to return the second favor. and for that reason, spencer finds himself invited by you...on a date?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist!female reader, fake date at the bar, reader's ex makes an appearance, kinda inspired by blank space taylor swift

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5 k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

[unknown number] wake up pretty boy

[unknown number] time to pay your debt

Spencer, sitting on his bed with a book resting on his lap, stared at the message for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed. Evening, the warm glow of his lamp making it easy to read. He had the next day off, no real plans, just a quiet night ahead. The sudden chime of his phone had caught him off guard.

For a split second, he was surprised—but he didn’t have to think too hard to guess who the sender was.

He typed out how did you get my number, then deleted it before hitting send. Something else was far more interesting. And a little concerning. That second message. Pay your debt. She remembered about that now, at this hour?

Before he could ask, another text came in.

[unknown number] taking you on a date

[unknown number] dress nice

For a moment, deeply confused, he just stared at his phone, already sensing somewhere deep inside that this was going to be a really weird night.

[spencer] What do you mean by ‘date’?

A minute or two passed. He didn’t put his phone down. Didn’t even look away from the screen.

[unknown number] the one who asks questions loses his way

His fingers moved automatically.

[spencer] That’s not how the saying goes

✓ Seen 10:12 pm

Reid sighed. He had absolutely no plans to go out that evening, and he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he hadn’t been given any details about this so-called date. Unless she was joking? There was something off about this—some kind of trick, a twist he hadn’t figured out yet.

The only thing stopping him from ignoring her messages—something he very much wanted to do—was the simple fact that he did owe her. Technically, twice. Though he had managed to repay one of those debts in an easy way, requiring almost no effort on his part.

He had a feeling this second one wouldn’t be nearly as simple.

And now he found himself wondering what exactly she meant by dress nicely.

*

"Wait, one more time. We’re going there as her… what?"

"Mental support," she said, moving forward with that usual quick stride of hers, the sharp tapping of her heels almost aggressive. Whether unconsciously or fully aware but not caring, she got a few steps ahead of him, speaking without turning back. Her voice hung in the night, street air.

Spencer hated when she did that. It made him feel like a dog on a leash. He sped up to match her pace.

"Well, I heard you," he scoffed. "Doesn’t mean I get what you mean. And maybe you should clue me in if I’m supposed to be part of…whatever this is” 

She stopped with a sigh so heavy it was as if giving him any details about something he was supposed to be part of was beyond her patience and strength. Hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer, he gave her a questioning look as she finally turned to face him.

His gaze dropped—quick, casual. Or at least, that’s how he thought it looked. Even at night, under the less-than-ideal glow of the streetlights, he could register how her outfit hugged her figure, emphasizing every curve.

At work, she dressed more formally. With her looks, that face, and the unshakable confidence she carried, she could probably make a burlap sack look like a designer gown. But Spencer had noticed something about the way she dressed for nights like this. Or rather, the way she became something else entirely. Like she belonged to the night, completely in her element.

Quick, casual glance—yeah, right.

To make the situation even more embarrassing, she snapped her fingers in front of his face, demanding his attention.

"Alright, listen up," she started, shifting her weight onto one hip. "I’m explaining this one last time. My friend, Liv—you might know her from my team…"

"Olivia, you mean," He said her full name in confirmation, recognizing the woman he had indeed seen before.

"Do you really have to correct me on how I call my own friends? Anyway, fine. Olivia has a date tonight with some guy she met online. The thing is, Olivia is a hopeless romantic who’s waiting for the love of her life to magically show up at her door, but she’s also buried in work and can’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Plus, she’s a little worried about ending up with some psycho. You know what I mean."

"All too well," he nodded, recalling all the missing persons cases that had started exactly like this—an online match gone wrong.

“Exactly. So Olivia asked me to come along. You know, for physical backup if anything goes sideways. And mental backup. Just to make her feel safer."

Well, he didn’t want to praise her out loud, but it was…nice of her. Okay, nice wasn’t the perfect word—honestly, the fact that she even had to do something like this was a little bitter at its core—but it didn’t change the fact that she was being a good friend.

He watched her for a moment, not even realizing he had gone quiet. He realized he’d never actually seen her interact with her people, her team, but he had somehow assumed their dynamic was more… detached. Not that she genuinely considered them her friends and actually cared.

"Finally caught up, genius?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Spencer snapped out of it. Okay, so maybe she cared about her friends—but she was still seriously unbearable.

"I get it. Except for one thing," he replied, matching her slightly rude tone, one that made him sound almost offended. She raised a brow, nodded as if giving him permission to continue, and started walking again—this time at a slower pace.

Actually, they were moving at almost the same rhythm now, nearly side by side.

"Why do you need me for this?"

Their eyes met, but this time, she didn’t look like she was about to mock him. In fact, the corners of her lips lifted slightly, as if she thought that was a very good question.

"Because tonight, pretty boy, I plan to stay completely on the sidelines," she explained. "Not interfering with my friend or her date in any way. Being completely invisible."

"Invisible?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

It wasn’t even just about what she was wearing. Drawing attention was simply an unavoidable part of her presence. She nodded in confirmation.

"Exactly. But I figured that to keep away all the desperate guys trying to get my number, all I need to do is bring one with me," she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "You’re gonna be my scarecrow."

Spencer's mouth fell slightly open, completely at a loss for words.

"You…you are just�� just…"

"Amazing, smart, beautiful, wonderful…"

"Shameless. That’s the word"

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression filled with a strange kind of complacency.

"Love when you compliment me," she said in an overly sweet tone.

"That wasn’t—" he started, but then cut himself off, realizing there was probably no point in arguing with her. He sighed.

"You’re welcome."

*

Despite the late hour, the bar wasn’t overcrowded. Sure, there were plenty of people inside, but most were engaged in quiet conversations over their drinks. Spencer noticed quite a few couples. As if they were one of them, they found a secluded spot in the corner, right next to a small pool table made of dark wood with a striking green surface.

"That’s them," the woman discreetly motioned with her head toward the pair at the bar— a cascade of blonde curls and the man accompanying her. She fixed them with an assessing gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Hm. He looks like his pictures. I’ll take that as the first good sign."

"She shows you pictures of her dates?"

"Every single time. We rate them on a scale from one to ten."

Spencer wasn’t surprised in the slightest. His gaze briefly shifted in their direction, though he made sure not to stare, not wanting to make them look weird. The pair seemed to be talking a little shyly—it was obvious this was their first meeting.

“So,” he started. “Is this what we’re going to do all night? Just stand here?”

“Basically, yeah. I mean, we don’t have to just stand around like a couple of creeps, staring at them. We can enjoy our date. Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it can’t be fun,” she said, slowly circling the pool table until they were on opposite sides.

She slipped off her outer layer, and Spencer couldn’t help but notice that her outfit underneath did anything but help her stay invisible. Reaching for a pool cue, she nodded at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You want to play?”

“No, I want to duel you with the cues,” she scoffed. “I’m a professional, you know.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow slightly as he grabbed a cue of his own.

"Professional?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mhm. World championships and all that. But that was a while ago. Then came the injury, and I had to say goodbye to my career. After that, I had no idea what to do with myself, so I became a chemist," she said, with a casual shrug.

He chuckled at the made-up story, setting the pool balls up into a perfect triangle at the center of the table. Once they were ready, he gestured for her to go ahead.

She refused with an exaggerated, almost overly generous smile. "Oh, no. Amateurs go first."

He held back a roll of his eyes, leaning over the table. The balls scattered across the surface, and from that point on, he'd play with the cue ball. It was her turn now, and Spencer watched her movements closely.

"I didn't know your story before the FBI job was so fascinating," he remarked, trying to throw her off a little.

They hadn't made any bet, but there was a subtle competitiveness in him now.

She shrugged.

"I don't think it's fascinating. More tragic. Lost dreams."

"Right, sorry for my disregard. What kind of injury was it?"

She paused for a moment, focusing on her next shot. One of the balls sank smoothly into a pocket, and a small smile played on her lips.

"Shoulder," she replied casually. "Sometimes it still acts up. I have to go for regular massages."

"Poor thing," he said, his tone teasing.

Her gaze briefly scanned the entire bar, landing once again on her friend. Nothing seemed to bother her, so she returned to the game.

"We're playing just for fun? Don't you think that's a bit boring?"

"Sorry, I don’t want to bet with you again. Paying off debts with you is never easy."

"Come on. You’re having fun with me” 

"You think so?"

“No. I know it."

She potted another ball, gaining the upper hand. Spencer puffed his lips, deciding to focus more on the game. They both did, though it didn't stop them from continuously exchanging similar comments, remarks, and jabs. And despite the countless huffs and eye rolls, he had to admit, he was really having fun. With her.

And even more fun when he realized he was close to winning.

With a certain satisfaction, he noticed she was watching his moves with more attention, her eyes slightly narrowed with cool competition. As he leaned over the table again, she moved toward him lightly, almost as if tiptoeing. She passed by almost unnoticed. In fact, he only realized how close she was when her breath softly grazed the inside of his ear as she spoke in the voice of a social commentator.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to the surprise of the entire audience, amateur Spencer Reid has managed to take the lead," her whisper was laced with feigned suspense. Of course, he refrained from moving, making sure not to make a mistake from distraction. "Will he manage to win today's tournament?"

He straightened up with a sigh, which made her step back slightly. He gave her a look full of mock pity, and she responded by slowly blinking her eyes, imitating the gaze of an innocent angel.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as sabotage," he remarked.

She raised both hands in the air, as if defending herself against the accusation.

"Hey, I'm not doing anything," she denied, a subtle spark in her eye. She gave a quick nod toward the table. "Come on, finish it."

Spencer, uncertain and sensing she was up to something, tried to refocus. When he found the perfect angle and was about to hit the white ball, something nudged his elbow, causing it to roll in the completely wrong direction.

He directed a look at her, mouth open in indignation.

"This is... this is cheating, pure cheating..."

"No idea what you're talking about!" she shot back. She pretended to be serious, though in an incredibly clumsy way. Her lips kept trembling, trying to form a smile, and she struggled to suppress it. "I didn't do anything. Your hand must have slipped..."

At the sight of the expression on his face, she couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. It mixed with the sound of his incessantly muttered, mildly irritated comments under his breath, which absolutely didn't reach her conscience. In fact, it seemed to only make her feel more smug. Spencer finally gave in, letting out a sigh.

"I demand a fair rematch."

With her arms crossed over her chest, she raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead, then," she said, grabbing the cue stick again.

Her friend and her date were still deep in conversation, sitting much closer than before, with small smiles on their faces. They didn't seem like they were in any hurry to end the evening. A few new people had arrived at the bar, making it louder, but Spencer didn't even notice. He was completely focused on this small, occupied space between them where they were slowly giving in to the growing rivalry, even though nothing had been wagered. It was probably just about pride.

His opponent was doing everything in her power to make his game harder. He'd abandoned all pretenses of fairness and stood right beside her whenever she leaned over the pool table. He didn't even intend to nudge her—but when he was close, she assumed he would and became incredibly cautious, often elbowing him in the ribs to make space for herself to focus. Despite all of this, they were laughing. He even forgot for a moment that he had planned to spend the evening entirely differently.

They played a few more rounds, each of them winning the same number of games. He announced the next one, but before starting, he briefly disappeared into the bathroom. Simply because, well, he needed to use it.

As he washed his hands, he could hear the hum of conversations, laughter, and music, all muffled by the door. It felt a bit warm, despite the fact that he'd taken off his jacket a while ago. For some reason, he suddenly became self-conscious about how he looked, though he hadn't thought about it at all before. After all, it wasn’t like he was on a date with some woman he was trying to impress. Still, driven by some inner impulse, he fixed his hair and smoothed the fabric of his shirt with his hands, rolling up the sleeves so they wouldn’t get wet while washing. He hesitated for a moment before lowering them again, surprised to sense someone's gaze on him.

The tall man with black hair, a rather sturdy build, and narrow glasses on his nose didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at him. Spencer wasn’t sure if he should just walk away, but something made him raise an eyebrow skeptically. He had no idea what was going on.

“Do we know each other?” he asked, genuinely considering the possibility.

He couldn’t recall this man from anywhere, which, given his memory, pretty much ruled out the idea.

“No,” the man replied briefly but confidently, still not breaking eye contact. After a moment, he added, “But I know your friend. I know her well.”

Reid stood still for a moment, embarrassingly slow to realize which friend the man was referring to. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that it struck him—this guy had likely been watching their game for a while and was talking about her. Before Spencer could say anything, the man continued.

“Actually, I used to date her. And listen, I’ve got some advice for you. Just give up on her.”

Spencer blinked, trying to process if he’d misheard.

“Beg your pardon...”

“I’m serious, man. Not because I’m jealous or anything like that,” he quickly clarified, raising both hands as if to declare his sincerity. “It’s just simple, you know, guy solidarity. Don’t waste your time.”

He was struck by a strange feeling that his conversation partner had some mistaken idea about their relationship. Besides, even though the man had clarified that he wasn’t jealous, he sure sounded like a jealous ex. Spencer knew he should just laugh it off and walk away. After all, he wasn’t dating her, didn’t intend to, and whatever the guy had to say about her shouldn’t matter. Yet, his legs refused to simply walk away.

Some curiosity, one he couldn’t shake off, took hold of him.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

A slight smirk appeared on the man’s face as he noticed he had Spencer’s attention.

“I get that you might see something in her. She’s pretty, you have to give her that. At first, even...kind of charming in her arrogance. But once you get to know her...it’s a strong word, but you need to know, she’s fucking insane.”

The language seemed to twist strangely in his mouth.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” he replied dryly. “I mean, anyone could mean something different by saying fucking insane.”

The man scoffed with a bit of contempt. Spencer was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

“Okay, you’re probably going to deny it and defend her because you like her, I’ve been there, I get it.”

Because I like her? He almost denied it but stopped himself, letting the man continue.

“She’s just insufferable in the long run. She acts like she knows everything, gives orders, always has to have the last damn word. And you know, at first, you think she’s just playing that part. And then she’ll start acting, well, you know…”

Spencer felt the urge to laugh.

“Submissive?” he suggested, the missing word that seemed to want to spill from the man’s mouth.

“Normally. Just normally.”

Something started to smell between them. A distinctive scent. Wounded male ego.

That alone was enough for Spencer to know not to take this conversation seriously. That alone was enough for him to know he could end this conversation whenever he wanted. But before he could take a single step away, he thought about the entire evening he'd spent with her. Everything, from the first message he’d received while still at his apartment.

He counted how many times during their meeting he’d just laughed, having more fun than he’d had in a while. In some unclear way, he felt he owed her that.

“Let me sum this up,” Spencer began, gesturing with his hand and never breaking eye contact with the man. “Because this, in its way, is strange to me. Funny, even, when you think about it.”

The man furrowed his brow, listening. Spencer remained unfazed as he continued.

“First, you met a commanding, confident, and, okay, a little cheeky woman. That didn’t scare you off, though, and you decided you wanted to start a relationship with her. And when it happened, you were surprised she was commanding and cheeky? You know, she doesn’t pretend she’s not like that. You knew what you were getting into.”

"Fine, you know what, this doesn’t make sense," the man sighed. "Do whatever you want. Just remember, I warned you. One day, you’ll be grateful for this."

"Maybe you're right," Spencer admitted, nodding slowly. "It doesn’t make sense."

The man gave him one last look before scoffing and walking away. Reid was left in the bathroom alone, actually reflecting for a moment on the entire conversation. He didn’t think he should have been a part of it at all. The guy must’ve assumed he was interested, or that they were dating. He didn’t have any insight into what their relationship really looked like. In any case, Spencer imagined what it would be like if another guy were in his place. Her actual date. I wonder if a conversation like that would make him turn away, push him away entirely.

After a moment, he concluded that no, it probably wouldn't have. Assuming, of course, that the other guy wasn’t a complete idiot, blindly believing the words of a hurt, maybe even a little jealous ex.

Though, maybe he couldn’t really judge from his position. The position of someone who wasn’t planning on dating her, and who wasn’t interested in her in that way.

He thought for a moment about whether he should tell her about the conversation. He decided against it, not wanting to spoil or ruin the good mood of their evening. Instead, he straightened his hair and, completely unfazed by what he'd just heard, returned to the pool table where she was leaning, clearly growing impatient with his prolonged absence.

"Finally," she hissed at the sight of him. She almost shoved the cue stick into his hand, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I thought you were trying to escape me. The thought of another loss scared you, huh?"

He paused for a moment, staring at her face—the slightly parted lips, the warm bar light reflecting in her eyes, and the familiar, confident gleam. For a brief moment, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—what did she even see in that guy?

But almost immediately, he dismissed it, considering it none of his business, and took the cue stick from her, ready to start the next game.

[arabella0001]

chakra therapy

pairing: naruto uzumaki x reader (6k+ words)

Orochimaru’s latest jutsu leaves Naruto completely cut off from his chakra—until he realizes there’s one exception: you. Shikamaru said you should stay close for ‘research purposes.’ Pretty sure he didn’t mean it like this.”

cn: light sub/dom, overstimulation, breeding kink, praise, slight degrading kink

Naruto had always have feelings for you, though his clumsy, boyish nature kept him from ever admitting it outright. Instead, he showed it through actions. Subtlety wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but the signs were there, stitched into every impulsive action, every unfiltered laugh, every poorly hidden glance. Always hovering nearby, whether or not his presence was necessary. Nodding along, brow furrowed in concentration, even when half the words went over his head.

And then, of course, there were the looks—quick, unintentional, darting away the second he thought he’d been caught.

Every goddamn time. A split-second too long tracking the way fabric molded against curves, the unconscious clench of his jaw when bare skin teased his periphery. The sharp swallow whenever thighs squeezed together, whenever movement dragged his attention somewhere it had no business lingering. He told himself to stop looking, but instincts had other plans—reaction first, regret second.

Of course, you had noticed.

You weren’t stupid, nor were you blind. Naruto was always attractive. Too much muscle packed into that golden skin, those sharp, untamed eyes promising trouble if you let them linger too long.

The strength in his form, honed through years of relentless training. Even his foolish antics, the way he could make you laugh without effort, it was driving you mad. And yet, you never acted on it. You wanted him to be the first to break. To say it, to give in without your help.

But apparently, something else decided to help him instead.

It happened during the latest mission to bring Sasuke back. Orochimaru, infamous for his twisted experiments, had unleashed a forbidden jutsu at the last second before Naruto was being overpowered. It wasn’t a direct attack, no blood spilled, no broken bones. But the effect was insidious.

Naruto could no longer feel his chakra.

Not entirely absent, but distant. Muted echoes drifting in a void, unreachable no matter how desperately he tried. The realization had rattled him in a way that no physical injury ever had.

Now, in the clinic, everyone scrambled to find a way to undo it. The nurse flipped frantically through scrolls, searching for information.

Kakashi, ever the steady one, offered his calm reassurance.

“We’ll fix this. No need to panic.”

Sakura, frustrated and worried in equal measure, smacked Naruto lightly upside the head.

“Snap out of it, idiot! Freaking out isn’t going to fix anything.”Shikamaru, arms crossed, brows furrowed in thought, muttered,

“This is a drag… but if it’s a sensory disruption, we need a trigger to reverse it.”

Despite all their efforts, nothing changed.

You weren’t sure what to do either. But instinct, the same instinct that drove Naruto to protect you whenever you were in danger , had you moving to his side before you could think twice.

You reached for him, voice softer, laking the usual teasing bite. You try to sound steady despite the nervous energy curling in your gut.

“Naruto, breath. Come on, you seriously think I’d let you break that easily?”

Your fingers brushed against his forearm. a simple, grounding touch.

The room stilled.

His head snapped up, eyes blown wide, searching, frantic, until they landed on the source. Still there, still touching him. The words left his mouth without thought, louder than necessary. “I CAN FEEL IT.”

Everyone else froze at his reaction, the intensity in his expression a stark contrast to the depressing energy from moments ago.

Naruto’s breath hitched, his lips parted, and for a second, it wasn’t confusion on his face, it was need. Need to touch you.

You blinked, eyes flickering to where your hand met his skin. “What?”

Shikamaru, ever the skeptic, reached forward and pressed his fingers to Naruto’s shoulder.

Nothing.

Naruto shook his head. “No. Just her.”

A weighted silence followed, thick with unspoken implications.

Shikamaru exhaled slowly, his sharp gaze darting between you and Naruto before something in his expression shifted, a knowing look.

Then, with an almost smug amusement, he murmured, “Well, well… That’s interesting.”

Naruto stiffened, fingers twitching at his sides, his breath coming shorter. His ears burned scarlet, the flush creeping down his throat, disappearing beneath the dip of his collar. His thighs tensed. As if it took everything in him to stay still.

Because suddenly, it all made sense. Why his skin burned beneath your fingers. Why his breath had turned shallow, pupils blown wide. And worse, why the heat in his stare felt nothing like panic anymore.

The next day, Naruto found himself in Shikamaru’s room with you.

Shikamaru sat cross-legged at his desk, a scroll half-unrolled in front of him, fingers lazily tapping against the wood as he exhaled.

“I’ll go through Konoha’s records and archives,” he said, his voice carrying that usual bored indifference, though his sharp gaze betrayed how seriously he was taking it. “If there’s a way to cancel Orochimaru’s jutsu, I’ll find it. But until then…”

He lazily tilted his head toward you before looking back at Naruto.

“You should stick with her.”

Naruto flinched slightly at that, but Shikamaru wasn’t even trying to hide his sly smile.

“You know. For… research purposes.”

Naruto scowled, crossing his arms. “Tch. You make it sound weird, but yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He turned to you, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You raised a brow, leaning in slightly. “What’s different from before?”

Naruto immediately tensed, face heating up. “No! I mean—yeah. But not like—!” He cut himself off, groaning loudly before whipping around toward the door. “I’m leaving!”

You just grinned and Shikamaru let out a chuckle, nodding with sly eyes at you as you exit through the door, trailing after Naruto

The walk through the village was quiet for a moment. For once, Naruto was too quiet. Which, honestly, was worse.

A huff of breath, fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, shoulders squared like he was bracing for an attack. And then, with the grace of a man walking into his own execution “Wanna hang out?”

You smiled, feigning surprise. “Are you asking me on a date, Naruto?”

Immediate regret. Air lodged somewhere between his throat and lungs, a violent cough shaking his frame as he stumbled over nothing.

“Wha—?! WHAT’S UP WITH YOU!?” He groaned, muttering under his breath as he kicked at a loose stone on the road. “Tch, forget it.”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Relax, idiot. I’m messing with you. Come on, where to? Ramen, training, or do we sit around your place and get competitive over that lame Wind Shuriken game again?”

You paused, thinking for a second before adding “Hm. Actually, it will be helpful to play that game in your current state.”

Naruto huffed, pouting slightly as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It’s not lame. You just suck at it.”

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?! I literally beat you last time!”

“You cheated!”

“You’re just mad I outplayed you.”

The banter continued as you made your way toward Naruto’s apartment, his earlier flustered state easing into something familiar, something comfortable.

But what you didn’t know—what Naruto wasn’t telling you—was that before he saw you today, he had already had a conversation with Shikamaru, earlier that morning.

——————————

Shikamaru stood near the Hokage building, arms crossed as he eyed Naruto lazily.

“So… how long are you gonna keep pretending?”

Naruto, mid-stretch, froze. His back immediately stiffened before he turned, frowning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Shikamaru gave him a deadpan look. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The thing with her.”

Naruto’s eye twitched. “There’s no ‘thing.’”

Shikamaru barely held back an eye-roll. “Right. And the fact that she’s the only person who can break that jutsu? That’s just bad luck?”

Naruto groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Shut up. That doesn’t mean anything.”

Shikamaru sighed, shaking his head. “You’re really hopeless, huh?” He glanced at him, smirking. “You do realize you’re not getting out of this without her figuring it out, right?”

Naruto crossed his arms stubbornly. “Yeah? And what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she—”

“Avoids you?” Shikamaru interrupted smoothly, tilting his head. “You really think that’s how she’d react?”

Naruto opened his mouth to argue, only to pause.…Would you?

Shikamaru saw the hesitation flash across his face and smiled knowingly.

“Thought so.”

——————————

Back in the present, by the time you both arrived at Naruto’s place, after a while he began being tense again.

Not because of the hangout itself, you two did this all the time. Whether it was eating, training, or killing time at his place, it was normal.

Except it wasn’t normal anymore.

Because now, every time you looked at him, every time you leaned in slightly, every time your hands brushed, he remember that damn conversation with Shikamaru.

Cross-legged on the floor, the game board stretched between you two, a silent battlefield waiting to be conquered.

It was a Konoha classic: a two-player match where you had to align your chakra-infused tiles to mimic the perfect arc of a shuriken’s flight. Each tile had different wind currents, and only through precise movements and strategy could you outmaneuver your opponent’s trajectory.

Naruto sucked at it.

Not because he was dumb—but because his instincts always made him play fast, aggressive, going for power instead of precision. And the fact that he doesn’t feel the chakra like before made it worse. You, on the other hand, knew exactly how to read his movements, how to bait him into making the wrong moves.

And it pissed him off. Expecially right now.

“Tch—dammit!” Naruto groaned as he stared at the board, his last move completely blocked.

You bit back a grin, tilting your head. “What’s wrong, hero? Not as easy as a real shuriken throw?”

Naruto scowled. “This stupid game is rigged. Who the hell has time to plan this far ahead?”

“People who think before they act.” You hummed, tapping a finger against your lips in mock thought. “But hey, don’t feel bad. I can help you to feel your chakra, remember?”

His face burned immediately. Yeah, right. Back to reality.

You moved before he could protest, reaching over to slide a tile into place. A simple reach, fingers gliding over the board, but the shift brought warm skin against his, thighs brushing, arms pressing together for just a second too long.

The same electric sensation that grounded him yesterday, that pulled him out of his suffocating void was again, the warm, unmistakable pulse of your chakra.

His throat went dry, swallowing as a slow, pulsing ache settled deep in his belly, building with every touch.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let your fingers linger on his wrist, feeling the slight tremor beneath his skin. “Nervous?”

Naruto stutter. “N-no. Continue”

But his voice betrayed him, cracking slightly, low and strained.

Oh. This was fun.

Your fingers ghosted up his arm, teasing the hypersensitive skin, barely touching his forearm before curling around his bicep just enough to make his cock twitch.

Naruto’s breath hitched, chest rising in a stuttering gasp.

Your smirk deepened. “Relax, Naruto. I’m just getting comfortable.”

A blatant lie. And you think he knew it, or at least sense something by the way he is sending you a glare.

You shifted closer, brushing your thigh against his. The heat of his body—always so naturally warm—seeped into you, and the moment your breath ghosted against his ear, he physically jolted.

His chakra, what little he could feel, was flickering wildly. Every brush of your fingertips sent ripples of sensation through his body, as if his nerves were waking up one by one, tuned only to you.

His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, his chest heaving as if he couldn’t get enough air.

He wanted to say something, anything, but his mind was a mess. It was too much, the sensation of your hands trailing slow, your teasing, the undeniable pull of your chakra weaving into his.

“Or do you want me to help you more?” Your voice, closer to his ear, make his impossible to move an inch.

He wanted to say something. Beg, maybe. Or tell you to stop before he lost every last ounce of restraint. But the way your nails teased closer to the waistband of his pants? Fuck. His mind had gone blank.

He don’t know how it escalated into this. Why are you doing this? Aren’t you two friends? I mean, he is insanly in love with you but…why would you?

“H-Hey…” His voice was strained, hands gripping his knees. “We should stop—”

You didn’t stop. How could you? You know he feels closer to normal before that cursed jutsu…or maybe more than normal.

Instead, your fingers trailed dangerously lower, tracing the waistband of his pants, not enough to touch, just enough to threaten.

“Wha—“

Naruto practically tore himself away, breath ragged, face burning. “I—I can’t. I don’t wanna—” He clenched his fists, eyes squeezing shut. “I don’t wanna use you.”

The sudden seriousness in his voice made you pause. He wasn’t just embarrassed anymore. He was struggling.

You tilted your head, watching him closely.

“Use me?”

He exhaled hard, his like sandpaper in his throat. “I just really, really want you. T-to keep touching me.”

The admission came out like a confession he wasn’t ready to say aloud, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping himself.

You licked your lips, feeling your own pulse quicken. And then, as if deciding for both of you, you leaned in, voice smooth.

“But you’re not using me.”

The words slotted into place like a key turning in a lock. And just like that, the dam holding him back cracked.

And just as his uncertain and vulnerable gaze snapped to you, you let your fingers skim over his collarbone, nails lightly dragging making him feel overwhelmed.

The second your lips brushed against his ear, his fingers clenched at your hips, an involuntary whimper breaking free. You grinned, amused at the way his body trembled next to you.

The escape was clumsy, like a man barely holding onto the last thread of control.

“Naruto…” Your voice was lower now, testing. “Focus”

His throat bobbed, eyes dark and completely wrecked. This is wrong. His mind chaotic, messy, he can’t continue like that.

And then, just like that, he snapped.

“STOP!”

His head tipped just slightly, muscles locked in place, as if terrified to move.

Before be can’t control himself, Shikamaru’s voice maddening bim, he jut burst out—loud, desperate, like something that had been clawing to escape.

“I don’t want this just because of this jutsu think!” his breath uneavsn before continuing “It feel wrong, hiding it from you and I—I like you, okay?”

You pause for a second, you can’t say you didn’t felt your stomach curl as he finally admitted, but right now? Right now you are too aroused to even think straight.

“Oh, Naruto. But i knew.”

His entire face burned, staring at you “What did you mean you knew???”

You shrugged, looking unaffected with a grin on your face. “You think i didn’t notice? How you look at me? I just wanted to see when you’d break.”

Naruto looked utterly betrayed. His mouth opened, closed— groaning loudly, covering his face. “You’re evil.”

You laughed, tipping his chin back up with a single finger. “And you love it.”

Naruto swallowed hard.

And then, before he could stop you, you pressed your lips to his, swallowing the helpless groan that spilled from him.

His mouth parted before he could think, the taste of you intoxicating while his hands gripping at your waist like he couldn’t help himself.

The sound that tore from him was unintentional—a hushed, wrecked thing, barely a whisper against your mouth.

His body reacting before his mind could catch up, unsure if he wanted to push you away or pull you in and never let go. His mouth parted instinctively, desperate, pliant, letting you take everything you wanted from him.

When you tugged at his hair, he gasped—a sharp, wrecked little sound that sent a thrill through you. You didn’t hesitate, fingers tugging slightly as you pushed him down onto the floor, straddling him.

Naruto’s hands instinctively grabbed your butt, pulling you closer.

“F-Fuck—” His voice was wrecked, already breathless, already losing it.

You leaned into his ear, letting your breath fan against his skin. “Also, i like you too.”

His entire body shuddered beneath you.

His chakra latched onto yours, sinking into you, heat pooling in every place your bodies touched.

And when your lips traced the shell of his ear, when your hips pressed just slightly against his painfully hard cock, Naruto let out a broken moan, his hips shifting beneath you instinctively, desperate for any kind of friction.

Your hips rolled against him, just a tease and his whole body tensed, thighs pressing together, his grip on you tightening.

His head tipped back, exposing the length of his throat as a helpless, needy moan spilled from his lips, his body begging without words.

Naruto was shaking beneath you, his breath ragged, uneven, pupils blown wide as his hands trembled against your waist. You felt them, those rough, calloused fingers gripping you like he was afraid to let go.

For all his stubbornness, all his fire, he was melting under you, pupils blow wide feeling his hands squeezing your butt harder.

Then, hesitantly, cautiously, his hands moved up. The moment his fingers brushed against your chest, you felt it—a hesitant, almost reverent touch, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

Like he thought you might stop him.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you let out a slow, pleased hum, pressing into his touch just enough to let him know.

His fingers tightened, palms cupping, kneading, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric, and fuck—Naruto was a fast learner. His hands were warm, eager, your body pressing firmer into his hands. He swallowed thickly, his voice rough as he murmured,

“You feel… fuck. You feel so good.”

It was the way he said it—the raw need in his voice, the awe beneath it—that made heat coil low in your stomach.

But as nice as this was, you had something else in mind.

Before Naruto could get too comfortable, you suddenly gripped his wrists, pulling his hands away.

He made a frustrated sound, confused, but before he could protest, you moved, taking him with you as you stand up.

Naruto blinked at you, still disoriented, panting, his body flushed with heat as he sat there, his hands still twitching, aching to touch you again.

Then, you did something unexpected. For him, at least. You sank to your knees in front of him.

Naruto froze.

His entire body locked up, his breath caught in his throat, looking down at you.

“W-Wait, what—”

He started to reach for you again, but you caught his wrists again, stopping him.

“No touching.”

Naruto let out a small, broken whine, fingers twitching in your grasp. “What—why—?”

You grinned up at him, a slow, wicked thing. “Because I want you to behave.”

His breath shuddered, his entire body going rigid at the way you said it.

Watching as he shifted uncomfortably, with a blush on his face, clearly torn between his desperate need to touch you and the fact that you weren’t letting him.

He was always the fighter, always the reckless one, always pushing forward without thinking. But now? Now, you had him right where you wanted him.

“Naruto,” you murmured, tilting your head. “You like this, don’t you?”

His breath came short, shaky, his jaw clenching, his body betrayed him, giving all the answers you know.

He swallowed hard, glaring down at you with that wild, unsteady gaze, his voice strained.

“You sure—”

You leaned in, lips barely ghosting over his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tightened violently under your touch.

“Shhh.”

His hands fisting uselessly in the air, unable to do anything except sit there and take it.

Letting your nails rake lightly down his sides, the sensation just enough to make him squirm.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, voice laced with amusement. “I thought you liked being in control, baby.”

Naruto whimpered, shaking his head, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Y-You’re cheating.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?”

His jaw clenched, his eyes dark and completely wrecked. “L-Let me touch you.”

You hummed, running your lips over his stomach again, your tongue barely flicking against the heat of his skin.

Naruto jolted like you’d shocked him, breath catching on a choked gasp. 'F-Fuck—Please”

And there it was. That one magic word.

Your smile widened, and you finally let go of his wrists, letting him decide. But you saw him already submitting, his hands fisted into his own shirt, gripping it impatiently, every nerve in his body alight with anticipation.

You dragged your nails down his pants, exposing him, and as you feel the muscles twitch beneath your fingertips, the way his legs tensed, shifting restlessly. His whole body was a mess of sensitivity, his chakra curling around you like it was clinging for dear life.

His head tilting back, exposing the long line of his straining throat. You licked your lips, taking your time. His hips jerked slightly when your breath ghosted over his long, thick cock, precum leaking from his tip.

The second your tongue flicked over him, Naruto let out a broken, wrecked gasp. He was trying so damn hard to stay still, the desperation radiating off of him.

“F-fuck!”

You started slow, letting your tongue trace hot, wet circles, humming as you taste his precum and pulling away just when you felt him shudder under you.

“You’re shaking, pretty boy.” you murmured against his skin with a sweet, taunting voice. “Can’t handle it?”

Naruto let out a whimper, his breath hitching.

“N-No, —”

He cut himself off with a loud moan when you start sucking, hollowing your cheeks just enough to take him all. His fingers flew to your hair instantly, gripping slightly, making you dripping already between your thighs. But you weren’t about to let him have control.

You pulled off just enough to let your breath ghost over him, grinning when you heard the pathetic sound that left his lips, his thighs clenching around you in pure, helpless frustration.

“P-Please!”

You hummed, dragging your nails up his stomach, feeling his muscles jump under your touch.

“Please what, Naruto?”

His fingers tugging into your hair, chasing your open mouth before replying with a desperate voice.

“Please don’t stop”

“Good boy.”

The second your mouth wrapped around him again, Naruto’s head slammed back, a ragged, broken moan tearing from his lips. His entire body seized up, thighs tensing, hands fisting into the sheets like he was fighting for his life. But the fight was already lost.

Then you took him deeper.

When your throat flexed around his cock, tight and wet, swallowing him down to the base, his hips bucked—uncontrolled, desperate. A strangled gasp escaped him, somewhere between a plea and a curse, his fingers twitching like he wanted to grab your hair and fuck himself deeper but was too wrecked to even try.

And then you locked eyes with him.

Fuck.

The sight alone nearly undid him—his cock disappearing between your lips, drool glistening at the corners of your mouth, those wide, knowing eyes staring straight into his soul like you were drinking in every second of his unraveling. Heat slammed through his core, pleasure twisting sharp and brutal in his gut.

‘Shit—fuck—’ His voice was wrecked, shaking, pure desperation spilling from his lips as your tongue curled around him, sucking with slow, deliberate precision, like you wanted to ruin him.

And god, you were—pulling him deeper, taking him whole, like he was nothing but something to be used, devoured, wrecked.

Naruto’s whole body arched, back bowing off the floor, a raw, shaking gasp ripped from his lips, his fingers tugging at your hair as he lost it.

He whimpered, broken and breathless, his body shuddering violently, his thighs clamping around you as he came hard. So fucking hard.

Pleasure slammed through him in waves, crashing over him so hard his vision went white. Naruto pushed your head further, riding his orgasm with weak moves and letting you swallow all his load.

You clean him off with slow, languid licks until his body finally, finally sagged, spent and shaking, his breath coming in soft, shuddering gasps.

You look at him—how beautiful he looked. His head lolled back, his chest heaving, his entire body still trembling, his skin flushed, damp with sweat. His hands twitched uselessly, like he still couldn’t quite remember how to function.

“Damn, hero.”

Naruto groaned, covering his flustered face with his arm, still trying to catch his breath.

“Sh-Shut up.”

For a long momeng, Naruto didn’t move, he looked at you intensely, the aftermath of what you had just done still lingering in his muscles.

It was subtle at first, the way his gaze turned serious, the way his posture straightened, the tension in his shoulders unraveling into something else. That familiar, feral gleam sparking to life.

Before you could even register what was happening, Naruto moved fast. One second, you were still kneeling on the floor, feeling satisfied, smug. The next? Your back hit the mattress, breath punched from your lungs as Naruto hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed like you weighed nothing.

“Wha—?!”

Your protest was immediately cut off by the weight of his body pressing firmly against yours, his mouth at your ear, voice low and dangerous.

“You think you can just do that to me and get away with it?”

Your stomach flipped. Your breath hitched as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly, his body pressing you further into his bed. Squirming while trying to move, his grip tightened.

“Nuh-uh.” His voice was taunting, drenched in amusement. “You had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”

Even if your face flushed, you still shot back, “Oh, so you finally grew a backbone?”

Naruto just laughed, low and rough, his fingers teasing the hem of your clothes, playing with the fabric.

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

With zero hesitation, he ripped your shirt clean off. You gasp, your hands instinctively moving to cover yourself, but Naruto was faster.

“Nope.”

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them down above your head, eyes drinking you in like he’d been starving for this. And then, so casually it made your stomach twist, he muttered,

“Damn. You’re even better than I imagined.” Your blush deepened and his smirk widened. “You think I haven’t thought about this?”

His touch dragged rough and sure, tracing every inch of you like he owned it. Fingers trailed down your torso, skimming over your stomach, nails grazing just enough to make you shiver. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me, do you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to be silenced when his hands finally moved between your legs, parting them fully, thumbs digging into your inner thighs.

His breath was hot against your skin, his voice gravelly, hungry.

“I’ve wanted to have you for so long.”

Your entire body jolted the moment Naruto’s fingers curled into the waistband of your pants, dragging them down with excruciating slowness, like he wanted you to feel every second of it. His grip on your thighs was firm—possessive—spreading you open without hesitation, without asking, like he was owed this. Like he wasn’t giving you a choice.

And when his fingers slid through the slick, dripping mess he’d already made of you, a low groan rumbled from his chest, dark and satisfied. He dragged his fingertips through the heat, parting you with slow, teasing strokes before pulling back to admire the way your wetness clung to him.

“Mmm,” he murmured, biting his lip. “All this for me?”

You barely had time to suck in a breath before his head dipped lower, tongue pressing against your soaked panties, running slow and deliberate over the damp fabric. The first warm, wet stroke had you gasping, thighs jerking as the pleasure struck too fast, too sudden.

Naruto groaned against you, breath hot through the thin barrier of lace. Your panties were shoved aside, and his mouth was on you, tongue dragging through your folds, slow and filthy, before closing around your clit and sucking. Hard.

A choked moan ripped from your throat, hands flying into his hair, gripping, pulling, but Naruto didn’t let up—if anything, the firm weight of his tongue only pressed deeper, flicking over your swollen bud before closing his lips around it and sucking with obscene precision.

Your hips jerked against his mouth, body twisting under the intensity, the sheer heat of it, but Naruto only growled, tightening his grip on your thighs, forcing them apart every time you tried to clamp them shut.

“Shh,”he murmured, tongue flicking against your clit, voice mocking against your dripping cunt. “I thought you liked teasing?”

“N-Naruto—!”

The sharp whimper that tore from you when he sucked harder was embarrassing, but fuck—he wanted it. Wanted to hear every gasp, every shaky moan, wanted to feel you break on his tongue.

“Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

The command sent a shockwave through your spine. Your stomach clenched tight, the pleasure twisting sharp and hot inside you, flooding your system too fast, too intense. Your thighs trembled, body arching into his mouth as heat rushed through you, tearing a cry from your lips.

But Naruto didn’t stop.

Didn’t let you breathe, didn’t let you recover. He kept going—licking, sucking, dragging his tongue through the mess of your orgasm, coaxing every last spasm from you while his grip remained tight, keeping you spread open, keeping you at his mercy.

When you tried to twist away, panting, overstimulated, a wrecked “N-No—“ falling from your lips, Naruto only laughed.

“One more.”

You whimpered, tried to push him away, but he didn’t let you as his mouth worked you all over again. Your vision blurred, legs trembling so violently you thought they might give out completely.

“You can do it, baby. Just one more.”

“Naruto, I-I can’t” your voice cracking into broken moans.

“Shh. You wanted to tease me, right?” His breath was hot, merciless against your skin. “You can take it.” You sobbed, your body writhing beneath him as your nails dragging down his arms, he groaned when he felt how easily his fingers sank into you, how ready you were. The pressure inside you built higher, tighter, until it felt like you might break apart, cumming again, harder, messier than before.

“So good. You taste so good.”

Your voice broke, your body convulsing, and still, Naruto kept going, groaning against your skin, drinking in every last drop. By the time he finally pulled away, you were wrecked. Still twitching from the aftershocks, chest heaving with a dazed expression on your face. Naruto come back over you, licking his lips and smirking down at you.

“Damn,” he murmured, “I should’ve done this sooner.”

You were too out of it to even glare. He leaned in, voice low, teasing.

“Think you can handle one more?”

Your eyes widen before stuttering “You’re insane-“ but Naruto laughed at you with that stupid smile of him.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now, baby.”

His voice was hoarse, thick with hunger, as the swollen head of his cock dragged through your folds, teasing, slick with how ready you were for him. And then, without warning, he drove himself inside—deep, stretching you open around his thick length, forcing a choked moan from your throat.

Mouths parted in tandem, bodies tensing at the overwhelming sensation, every brutal snap of his hips sending shockwaves through you. Each thrust was sharp, relentless, burying him to the hilt, making you take all of him, over and over.

The room was filled with it—the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you, filthy and raw, a stark contrast to the way he had you pinned, wrists locked above your head, helpless beneath the force of it.

"Shit—you’re sucking me in so fucking good," he groaned, his voice low, unsteady, almost desperate. "Like you are made for me."

Your moan broke into a sob, the stretch, the depth, the way his cock dragged against your walls just right making you shudder helplessly beneath him. And Naruto could feel it, how your walls wrapped harder around his cock, pulling him deeper, trying to keep him inside. He’d never felt anything like this. It was only you.

His hips snapped harder, faster, his fingers digging into your skin as he moan into your ear.

"You take me so fucking well." His lips brushed the shell of your ear, taunting. "You like this, huh? Like being fucked like you belong to me?"

You whimpered, your voice breaking. "Y-Yes, yes, Naruto!”

"Yeah? You need it, don’t you?" His voice was mocking, knowing, his grip tightening as he thrust deeper, dragging a filthy moan from your throat.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the pleasure too much, too sharp, too deep.

"Say it." His fingers slid up your body, wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your pulse hammer against his palm. "Tell me how much you fucking need me."

Your moan broke into a sob, your body trembling beneath him, on the edge of something devastating.

"I need you so bad, baby, please—"

He groaned, his hand tightening just slightly, his cock hitting so deep your vision blurred. Your nails dug into the sheets, your voice nothing but a breathless whimper and his hand slid lower, pressing between your legs, fingers rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit. Your whole body jerked, your breath catching on a sharp cry.

"That’s it." His voice was pure sin, his pace unrelenting. "You’re gonna cum for me again, yeah?"

Your moans turned desperate, high-pitched and pleading, your body grinding back against him, needing more, needing everything.

"Come on, baby. Let me feel it."

You could barely breathe, barely think, his words sending heat surging through you, tipping you closer, closer—

"That’s my good girl."

Your orgasm tore through you, blinding, all-consuming, your whole body convulsing, legs shaking, nails raking down the mattress.

Your walls clenched around him, fluttering, sucking him in deeper, making Naruto snarl, his breath shuddering as he fought to hold on.

"F-Fuck—“

Your voice was wrecked, almost incoherent, "Naruto—please—please, I want it—want you to cum inside me—"

His pace stuttered, his whole body shuddering at your words.

"Shit—“

You turned your head, breath hot, desperate against his ear.

"I’d let you do it anytime—"

Naruto groaned, loud, broken, his grip on your hips bruising.

"Yeah? You wanna be my little cumdump, baby?"

Your voice was pleading, breathless, needy. "Yes, yes! Please!”

Naruto’s hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go, a wrecked, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he came. His whole body shuddering violently, he leg a loud while his cock pulsing inside, filling you up.

His fingers curled into the sheets, his jaw clenched tight, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure slammed through him in waves, his chakra burning, surging, spilling into yours.

And then, finally—his body sagged, his forehead pressing into your shoulder, his breath still ragged, uneven.

He was still inside you, still panting, feeling how you are trembling against him, his body glowing with heat, skin damp with sweat.

He lets his forehead lean against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck while arms wrapped around you like he had no intention of letting go.

For a while, neither of you moved.

The silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable, necessary.

His fingers dragged up and down your spine absentmindedly, barely-there touches that sent the occasional shiver through your body. He was still breathing heavily, still coming down, deep inside you, reluctant to pull away.

He sighed, shiftin as his lips brushed against your temple, soft, barely a whisper. Then, your cheek. Your jaw. Your throat.

Each kiss was slow, warm, unhurried, his hands roaming gently, lazily, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. It wasn’t lustful anymore. It was something else. Something Naruto had never really put into words before, making your heart stuttered.

"I like you.” his voice was hoarse, vulnerable.

And before you could say anything, he kept going.

"I like you so fucking much." His nose brushed against your skin, his lips pressing against your shoulder "I think I have for a long time."

Your chest ached, in a way that made you want to pull him closer, hold onto him forever.

You smiled softly, running your fingers through his damp hair. "I know, dumbass."

Naruto snorted, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. You always knew."

A pause.

Then his lips pressed against your collarbone, your chest, your stomach.

"I really, really like you."

You let out a breathless laugh, brushing his bangs from his face. "I got that part, baby"

Naruto just grinned, kissing lower, nipping, teasing, worshipping.

"Good. Just making sure."

Eventually, Naruto pulled away, rolling onto his back, still keeping you close with his arms lazily slung around your waist. You were comfortable, warm, tangled up together, his fingers still idly playing with your skin, tracing patterns across your hip.

Naruto blinked, staring at his hand for a second, his brows furrowing. You noticed immediately, shifting slightly.

"What?"

He opened and closed his fist and slowly, he flexed his fingers, his expression shifting.

"No way! I can feel it."

He said it so quietly, so disbelievingly, that you barely registered it.

Right as Naruto was staring at his hand in shock, his phone buzzed from the floor.

Still dazed, he reached over, glancing at the screen. A message. From Shikamaru.

"So I think I figured it out. Looks like the jutsu suppresses chakra externally, but it’s possible for it to gradually reactivate under the right… conditions."

Another buzz.

"Prolonged exposure to a strong external chakra source, repeated stimulation, or deep physical synchronization might accelerate restoration."

Naruto blinked. He read it twice and the started laughing.

You frowned, propping yourself up on your elbow.

Naruto just shook his head, still grinning, tossing the phone onto the bed after replying.

"Myeah. Just found out. Thanks anyway!”

You stared at him, unimpressed. "That’s it? Your chakra is back?”

He grinned harder, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Yup.”

"Unbelievable."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top of him, his fingers trailing lazy patterns on all of your body.

Your breath evened out, limbs growing heavy, molding into his frame as if you had always belonged there. As if this had always been meant to happen. As if this his touch, his presence, the way he held you like you were something precious—had been inevitable from the start.

[seumyo]

when life gives you a kuroo tetsurou who’s helplessly in love.

NOTE. when life gives you tangerines inspired! but this is not as angsty <33

Kuroo, for all his seventeen years of living, was still getting used to the farm life.

He was as thin as a willow reed and walked on the sandy edge of the main road that wound through their small coastal village like a sleepy snake. A woven bamboo basket dangled from his elbow, mostly empty except for two daikon and a packet of tofu wrapped in wax paper. His hair stuck to his forehead, and his face was slightly flushed—not from the sun (though maybe it did play a part), but because you were up ahead.

You were walking fast, faster than someone your size should, and the sound of your feet hitting the ground in short, stubborn stomps made his heart squeeze. You were carrying two buckets filled with what Kuroo assumed were freshly caught fish from your father’s boat. As he had thought earlier.

“[Name]!” He called out, lengthening his stride, “Wait for me!”

You didn’t turn around.

Ouch.

“[Name]! You’ll hurt your shoulders again if you carry both of those all the way down the shore by yourself.”

“Again?” You sighed at this point. “I’ve done it before,” you told him without stopping. “You’re not seriously following me all the way to the coast again, are you?”

“I’m not following,” he said, stepping alongside you now, trying to match your brisk walk. His voice was softer than yours, slightly shaky, not from nervousness exactly—but from restraint. “I was just… out. Walking.”

You turned around sharply, your eyes barely meeting his as the sun shone down on you two, though whether from exertion or something else, he wouldn’t tell. “Tch. You always say that. You walk behind me, you linger at the docks when my father’s boat returns, and then you suddenly have errands in the market at the same time I do. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No!” Kuroo blinked, clearly startled. “I mean, no, of course not! I just… I think you could use the company. And help with carrying the catch.” He offered you a crooked little smile, like he was embarrassed even as he meant it. And he meant it. Every word.

“I don’t like your company.”

“Ouch—please be nicer to me!”

You frowned, shifting the buckets. “You can't even carry one of these, you know that? Last week you tried and dropped all the mackerel in the dirt.”

“I was… distracted.” He pouted, lips softening into a line, brows tugging together in that pathetic way of his that always made you annoyed for exactly four seconds before you wanted to sigh and forgive him. “That only happened once.” Kuroo glanced down at his hands, then muttered, “Twice.”

“And when you tried to help my father untangle the nets, you fell into the water and cried.”

“I didn’t cry,” he said quickly, though his ears turned red. “I just… got saltwater in my eyes.”

You laughed, loud and unfiltered, the sound mixing with the screech of seabirds flying overhead. He thinks he must be coming down with an illness because his chest suddenly feels tight.

“I’m not useless,” he added softly, after a pause. “Even if I can’t dive like you or carry heavy things, I can… distract the crows.”

You glanced at him again, and this time, your smile was small, more like you were trying not to laugh again. “You wave your arms like a scarecrow, Tetsurou. You look ridiculous.”

“Your scarecrow, at the very least,” he mumbled under his breath, looking away.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“You could be useful. Carry this one; it’s lighter.”

“Wait—ow! Heavy,” he wheezed quietly, balancing his basket on one arm and a bucket in the other. You looked at him flatly. “I— I was wrong. It’s not very heavy at all; I can handle it.”

You made your way to the market, where the tide was gently lapping against the dock—distant and familiar. An array of stalls greeted your path, and you took the initiative to greet a few vendors on your way. The village dogs barked at gulls nearby. You dropped your bucket and rolled your sleeves further, while Kuroo did the same beside you and tried to copy your movements—though his long, knobby fingers didn’t move with the same confidence.

Just a quick break before delivering the fish to the customer.

“You don’t have to keep coming with me me,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter. “Your mother’s going to shout at me again.”

Kuroo looked down at the pavement. “She’s just…” he paused. “She’s proud? Doesn’t like fishermen much. Says your family takes more than they give.”

“She threw an egg at me last week.”

“I know!” Kuroo said quickly, face twisting in horror. “I tried to stop her—I even blocked the second one with my arm!”

You chuckled, then sighed, then began walking again as you adjusted your grip. “You’ll get in trouble, too. What if she stops feeding you rice again?”

“She only did that for two days.” He paused. “I ate sweet potatoes.”

Your gaze flicked to him, lips twitching. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“No,” he said softly. “Not when it’s you.”

You looked away, the wind tugging at your slightly worn-down clothes. Just then, Kuroo turned just in time to see his mother barreling out from behind a stall, holding a straw broom in her hand like a weapon.

“Don’t run, Tetsurou! I told you not to hang around that girl again!”

“Mother, please—she’s not—she didn’t do anything—”

“You call sneaking around and making eyes at a fisherman’s daughter nothing? I saw you two loitering by the harbor last week and again outside the tofu shop!”

You didn’t wait to hear more. You grabbed the other bucket from Kuroo and took off running down the alley behind the teahouse. He didn’t even hear you say anything—you just ran.

Kuroo spun toward his mother, panic rising. “Stop, Mother, she’s just trying to help her family!”

“She’s just using you to get better prices at the market! She even haggled with old man Yamada! We’re not like them, Tetsurou! We're farmers! Proud people!”

Kuroo’s attempts at keeping his mother at bay faltered. He stood awkwardly, unsure what to say.

But you, from far off, yelled back, “I earned that discount! His cabbages were half-rotten!”

His mother screeched again.

“Mama, they help us a lot!”

“Help her family seduce mine’s son, you mean! If your grandmother were alive—“

“She’d say you’re being cruel!” he shouted, surprising them both.

His mother froze. Her expression darkened. “Don’t talk back to me, Tetsurou.”

Eventually, his mother stormed off, muttering about curses and disobedience, leaving Kuroo with slumped shoulders and his words clinging to him like a knife. The other bystanders just nodded approvingly; something about humbling his mother was just what she deserved.

-

Much later, when the sun had begun to dip behind the hills and the tide crept lazily back to shore, Kuroo found himself wandering the edge of the beach where the fishermen’s boats were tethered. He spotted you near the rocks, skipping flat stones over the surface of the water.

You didn’t look at him, but you didn’t run either.

“I heard the miso lady gave you rice crackers for dodging my mom again,” he said sheepishly, wiping the smut off his cheeks to at least make himself look presentable.

You sniffed. “She said I was quick. Like a fox.”

“You are. A pretty one.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“I know.”

A silence passed, interrupted only by the gentle lap of waves and the distant rustle of cicadas.

“She’s going to make me sleep with the chickens again,” he murmurs.

You sighed. “You’re the only boy I know who’d get kicked out of his own house for helping a girl.”

“I’m the only boy you know who likes you this much,” he said, scratching his cheek. “Even if I can’t swim or carry stuff or stop my mom from launching eggs.”

Your gaze softened. “You’re a fool.”

“I know. Trouble’s worth it if it means seeing you smile.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re worth being foolish for.”

You didn’t say anything to that. Just looked at him with a strange, tired affection. Then tossed him a fatty tuna you’d caught earlier from the bucket beside you.

It smacked him right on the shoulder.

“…ow.”

You smiled. “Next time, try not to defend me too much to the point of getting kicked out. The climate’s getting colder these nights.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt, just a little. “And... I think you can spend the night in my brothers’ room if you want. Sleeping next to chickens is awful.”

And under the setting sun, with the scent of salt in the air and his heart thudding like a taiko drum, Kuroo realized—he didn’t care how many buckets he spilled or how many times he got chased through the market or how many times you looked at him unimpressed.

If you cared about him just as he cared about you, then he thinks he’ll be ok. This is where he wants to be, beside you.

He nodded. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[watercurtaincave]

Sun wukong dating headcanons? ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

𖤓 !! — I [love] you like the sun! Sun Wukong (LMK) / reader

𖤓 !! — For as long as you knew Wukong, there has been this odd constant about him; and it wasn't the fact that he took everything, seemingly, at face value and joked about a lot of what he was doing (whether he knew what he was doing or not). No, that was just something you come to accept of Wukong, it was the fact that he hated to be alone. For as much as he puts up a front, deeming he is okay alone and he doesn't need anyone by his side, you knew the opposite was true. It always had been; Wukong just wasn't one who could talk about his emotions in a proper manner, and you guessed it was due to the fact he had so many apologies he could not give.

𖤓 !! — Or maybe they were apologies he just can't give due to his own stubbornness and pride, either way for as much as he hated being alone you also knew Wukong hated hurting his friends. Despite the fact that he tends to do it a lot without realizing it. Time and time again he will just get so absorbed within himself, within trying to correct a problem (he most likely caused) and trying to protect his friends that he ends up hurting everyone else instead. From the brotherhood to his student, Wukong has never learnt how to talk to people. Nevertheless, you would suspect he has a habit of thinking if he where to tell people how he was actually feeling they would think different of him; possibly less, possibly weaker.

𖤓 !! — Oh, for how much you love Wukong he always seemed to burn everyone next to him. That's why you have to take a little extra care of his heart, and of him. For despite how long you know him, it'll take a hot minute before he realizes that he's as stuck with you and you're stuck with him.

𖤓 !! — No literally, you're both stuck with each other and there's no getting out of it.

𖤓 !! — You were first introduced to Wukong through the whole godly latter, that and by what MK, Mei, Tang, Chang'e and Ne Zha has told you about the proclaimed Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. You may or may not have spoken to Macaque once or twice as well before you ever met MK's mentor, which really stuck wrong with you at first. If you were meeting one of this "Great Sage's" enemies before you met the "Great Sage" himself, then what did that say about the "Equal to Heaven", huh? That he couldn't be bothered to be around to protect MK? That he's too lazy sleeping somewhere on a fluffy cloud to get up and kick his emo cousin's ass? Yeah, you had been really bitter towards Wukong at first. Even stand-offish when you first met him.

𖤓 !! — Even more creeped out when he used to stare at you for no reason, holding this odd look in his eyes. You had a feeling he wanted to say something, something that seemed to really bug him because even MK pointed out how weird his staring habit was. But he never did. He always kind of bit his tongue and tried to stay his distance from you.

𖤓 !! — You kind of noticed that rather quickly. I mean, how could you not notice when Sun Wukong would dance around MK and Mei to get away from you whenever you walked over. Or how he suddenly went quiet, like he was trying to disappear, when you pipped in on a conversation. Or the way he would actually disappear whenever when you came by and make up some awkward excuse like he left the stove on at home or he needed to feed his pet bird.

𖤓 !! — "I don't even think he has a pet bird.." MK mumbled at that one, not having noticed that you had just walked into Pigsy's until you sat down next to Tang; Who greeted you accordingly with a smile. You simply smiled and nodded back. "Yeah, well what do you expect from a two-timin' schemer who always just happens to disappear when someone comes in." Pigsy commented, shooting his eyes towards you with a cock of his eyebrow. You couldn't help but give in an unamused look, MK and Mei quickly giving you very esthetic hellos. Yet they soon hushed as you shook your head, "If you're saying I had anything to do with the 'Great Sage' suddenly getting cold feet whenever I come by, I don't know what that's about-" "Yeah!" MK suddenly appeared at your side, Mei in tow, "Before we introduced them, the Monkey King said he never has met them before. I just think it's some weird god stuff, that or maybe he's always just conveniently busy when you come around." And with that MK shrugged, giving the group a small smile. "Yeah, no, I think there's more to it." Tang mumbled between slurping his noodles.

𖤓 !! — Yeah, no, I think there's more to it. Why did those words stick in your head? Yeah, no, I think there's more to it. What more could be to Monkey King, Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, have to avoiding you like you were a plague other than him just not liking you for whatever reason? I mean, you've heard all the stories that MK and Tang have dug up about the Monkey King and nothing really ever struck a cord in you. You've listened to them gush about this great hero, a powerful demon that has revealed and bested so many, and none of that gave off the energy that Wukong did when he was around you. So what is his deal?

𖤓 !! — Later that week, after a tired shift of serving costumers, you didn't have the energy to do much other than slug your way back to Pigsy's; And you couldn't help but half-pray to anyone that Wukong was there. "And then I was like!-" And yet you instantly knew the gods were not on your side that day when you heard the Monkey King himself boosting about another fight he conquered. Yet, by the sounds of it, this was an older fight. Not that you were surprised in any way, that was just how the Monkey king seemed to be. He would use voice-sound effects, as well as big dramatic motions, to show how he defeated whichever enemy he was fighting in his tale. All the while, you managed to slip into the shop and quietly sit next to an overly excited Tang (as MK and Mei were sitting front row to hear the story). Yet, just as Wukong was about to get to the climax his eyes met yours and he faltered; His mouth went dry as his whole dramatic disposition came to an abrupt halt. You swore it he looked at you like he saw a ghost, and something about this surely ticked you off. After a day of serving rude costumers and frantic mothers with missing kids, you were about two seconds from smashing Wukong's face into the table.

𖤓 !! — "What? Why do you always look at me like that?" You would retort to the Monkey King with a scrunch of your nose, folding your arms firmly across your chest. Despite the disappointment from Mei and MK seconds before, as Wukong had stopped his dramatic retelling, they paused upon hearing your voice and turned around. You were sure they now understood why Wukong had stopped so suddenly. "I don't look at you like anything," Wukong instantly tried to deny, throwing out a 'pshh' from his mouth and a dismissive wave to drive his claim. Though he turned his back towards you to check the fake watch on his wrist, "Oh, well you look at the time! My cat must be so lonely-" You were tired of his dodging act, "I thought it was a bird." "Well a king can't have too many animals!- pets?" Wukong shot back almost instantly and you swore you could see some sweat rolling down his hidden face. He rubbed the back of his head, keeping his eyes on everything but you. "Yeah, uh-huh, because all your pets looks so real when I went to your little cave of a home with MK that one day to babysit." You would cock an eyebrow up at Wukong, watching as he stiffened in place. You were sure he was glaring daggers at the ground, maybe even thinking of escaping with his fancy god-like magic, "Yeah, uh-huh, as I thought. You have no pets do you, Great Sage? So, do you mind telling me why you've been avoiding me?"

𖤓 !! — For as long as you knew Wukong, you never realized how long you had actually known him for. Centuries of memories you could no longer recall, countless lives that you never knew you experienced, and it all seemed such an artificial answer when it came from Wukong. It felt like another outlandish tale of half-truths he was feeding to you to keep some sort of peace. But it wasn't:

𖤓 !! — At the start of it all, you had been a goddess (immortal like the rest). You hadn't been anyone important, no one that the mortals would remember anyways, you were simply one of the maidens that picked the immortality peaches in the orchard. You had been one of the few immortals who caught Wukong as he stole a peach, and oddly enough (from his recounting) you had let him go. Which made him curious about you. All too curious for his own good. You both would spend evenings and nights in each other's company upon any private setting you could find. In the orchard, in a garden that was rarely occupied, in your own room even. You both talked about everything and nothing, spent evenings somethings just laying and enjoying each other's company. Yet you could not leave the Celestial Realm, you were not on the approved list to do so. And yet when Wukong had left his post to return to his kingdom he still made the dangerous journey to come see you. He tried to convince you to come down with him many times, to come see the mountain of flower and fruits with your own eyes. Even when you told him no, he continued to come back. Until one day he just decided to kidnap you entirely.

𖤓 !! — It wasn't a bad kidnapping, one more like you were about to face sever punishment for associating with the Monkey King despite the status you held among the immortals. He proclaimed he was your hero as Wukong explained how he busted into the room, sweeping you off your feet and escaping the guards that had been sent to capture the two of you. Though it had been the worst mistake of his life.

𖤓 !! — What he hadn't known at the time, what you hadn't know either, was that the Jade Emperor had cursed you upon your assignment to the Peach orchard. If you were ever to escape the confines of the Celestial Realm, if you were to ever eat any of the peaches unauthorized, your divinity would be stripped away as punishment. You would have basically fell from heaven, becoming a mortal, if Wukong hadn't been holding (kidnapped) you during the decent down. And the way he described the anguish you had gone through while losing your divinity, despite having explaining this while sitting on a wooden table in a small and cramp noodle shop, made some sort of shiver rush up your spine. He couldn't even look up at you, this time out of pure guilt, as he explained it all; "I watched as your divinity was stripped from you, balled up at your chest before shooting up towards the Celestial Realm. I heard the Jade Emperor's laughter, his maniatic laughter and dammit-" Wukong punched the table, and you were surprised he didn't break it with the force he had used, "-All I wanted to do was go up there and beat his ass for being so cruel to you; for making you endure so much pain..." And something inside of you told you, like it was some sort of faint whisper, that Wukong was tormented by the thoughts of your screams until this day. That no matter what he has gone through or what he will go through, your screams will be the one thing that truly shakes him to his core.

𖤓 !! — "Ever since that day everything felt like some corny mortal and immortal love story that's written about now-a-days." Wukong would explain as his eyebrows frowned together, "When you first died it hurt so much, I was tempted to go up to the Jade Emperor himself and force him to take my immortality to be with you. "I debated on that for years actually, yet none of my old friends would let me near the Celestial Realm. And so I kind of sat and waited, I didn't know what to do with myself and it felt like I was always going to miss a part of me forever. Corny for the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, I know!" Wukong smiled, trying to lighten the mood with his usual antics. Yet he flattened, "But.. it really felt like it. "Until I was on a mission one day and I saw you again and you didn't know me, and I knew you didn't, but you drew me in all the same and well I fell in love with you all over again. And you fell in love with me and that cycle kind of repeated itself..."

𖤓 !! — Wukong paused, a small frown grew on his lips. He seemed hesitant to continue his train of thought yet he took in a deep breath and let it go. "Well, until you told me to stop with this mad chase. You had found all of past life you's memorabilia and pictures in that big closet of important things I own... and you told me to move on. "And you told me if I ever find you again in the future to not pursue a relationship with you because. . . well you didn't want to see me hurt."

𖤓 !! — But after all these lives, after all the time you have known Wukong, you should have known better that he couldn't keep his mind from you no matter how hard he tried. He hated being alone as much as he hated this horrible cycle he's put you through, yet still in every life he has chosen you above everyone else. He continued to choose you and you continued to choose him.

𖤓 !! — And, hey, that has to mean something. . . right?

Home | Masterlist | Series Master list 𖤓 !! — all writing in this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[satoruwiki]

Aah!! As the strange anon who requested Naoya. I gotta say I totally agree with these headcanons! You got him perfect lol basically a d**k..unless your super hot, don't speak and magically anticipate exactly what he wants when he wants it...in which case he's slightly less of a d**k. Ooh please do gojo headcanons now I'm addicted haha

lmfao strange anon 😭😭 but fr you’re right tho, naoya would usually be the type to say “you look prettier with your mouth shut, keep it that way”.

♡.°₊Satoru is the type of man to…ˎˊ˗

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; i love my cutie patootie boo boo bear pookie blue eyed king gojo >.<!!

n/a: i love this man sm, I already kinda did hcs of him before, but they were mostly nsfw, so i really scratched my head to not repeat them as best as i could.

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have gifting as his love language. Aside from being extra clingy, he’s the type to gift you stuff at least twice a week. They’re mostly things that reminds him of you or that he thinks you’d like (even though he might fail sometimes when it comes to treats, since he has a sweet tooth it may or may not be too sweet for you).

Satoru is the type of man to… act sassy/petty when jealous. Satoru isn’t the type to make a scene (at least not directed to you) or generally be ill-tempered/insecure. However, whenever he sees someone who looks at you in a different way than the others or tries to engage in a conversation with you that seems too intimate to be friendly, Satoru is the type of man to walk up to you and hug you from behind, giving you neck kisses. While you may think him being overly cuddly with you is normal due to his clingy character, Satoru is doing all that on purpose to let whoever is ‘bothering’ you that you already have someone else, with a damn smug smile plastered on his face (and maintaining direct eye contact with the stranger).

giggled and kicked my feet while writing this.

Satoru is the type of man to… try new things for you. So it is more than obvious that Satoru is old money rich. Like this dude was RICH RICH and spoiled rotten since he was child, not to mention that he’s a special grade sorcerer (he basically gets bank as a salary), therefore he’s accustomed to getting the finest things, either for you or for himself. What may seem expensive to you is probably normal for him. That doesn’t mean he’s some type of snob or is condescending about middle and working class. Satoru would be the type of be slightly skeptical when you take him to a ‘not so high-end’ restaurant, but since it was a “spot you knew”, it must be good, right? Satoru would be surprised to know that the food in the less wealthy places is sometimes even better than his common luxurious michelin-starred restaurant.

sounds like a cute trope imo

Satoru is the type of man to… taking pictures of you without you realizing it. It’s a hidden hobby of his, he thinks you look prettier when you’re distracted. Satoru has certain photo albums in his phone gallery that require a password, that is because you’d probably be embarrassed if you ever found out, but he really likes them, in the least creepy way.

Satoru is the type of man to… pretend not to know certain things as long as he has something to approach you with. Despite being good at pretty much everything, Satoru will lie and pretend to be terrible at something you are specifically passionate about so that you can teach him because he loves to see you get excited about sharing your hobbies and likes with others. His subtle way of knowing about you and collecting information he needs for when he wants to ask you out.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have public sex. Whether it’s at home or at some expensive restaurant’s washroom, nothing will stop him from pounding his cock balls deep inside you, though the thought of getting caught being freaky in public always gets his adrenaline rushing and his cock throbbing.

Satoru is the type of man to… have you modeling the lingerie he buys for you. He loves to see how excited you are to show him the little lingerie you bought with his card. But he loves it more when you thank him bouncing on his dick.

Satoru is the type of man to… have phone sex with you when he’s away. Due to his work, he has to sometimes to fly across Japan and this can take a few days before he comes back home. Satoru will call you late at night to ask how your day was then ask you to play with yourself, maybe even do a video call so he can see your pretty ‘o’ face.

Satoru is the type of man to… cover you in hickeys. He takes pride in letting everyone know he fucked you real good last night as well as to mark you as his. It also helps to keep other men from you, so he does this pretty often.

Satoru is the type of man to… fuck you in front of a mirror. Satoru likes to fuck you in doggy as well as to see your fucked out face, so he came up with the solution of placing a mirror in front of his bed so he can plunge his cock deep inside your walls just the way he likes and get to see you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he rearranges your guts. He also gets to look at himself and brag a little. (a little narcissistic from him if you ask me lmao)

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

updated and improved "all the fears want arthur lester carnally" list

just a general tally of influence/Marks arthur would have received if you were playing by TMA rules. enhanced with further contemplation and with some peer review from @luci-z-wont-shut-up thankyouuu

the eye

VERY dedicated private investigator. consistently more invested in Solving The Mystery than, like, Remaining Alive

has not had a single moment of privacy since the series started bc there's this other asshole parked in his eyes watching and judging him 24/7. granted this never seems to like, bother him overmuch, bc he's usually got bigger problems than whether john is watching him strip, but still

was magic-stalked by the KIY and his cult throughout season 1

also kayne was watching his whole life and taking notes to roast him about his trauma later. apparently

something something metanarrative implications of an audience gathering around just to watch you suffer

scratch in The Nightmare watching his dreams and bad memories with fascination?

the spiral

possessed by a god of madness (twice) (three times?) (possibly more depending on how you count?)

was held hostage in a fake dream-realm mental institution with fucked up architecture so one of the aforementioned madness gods could pry information out of him (which also gets cryptically described as "Here, there, everywhere, nowhere. Anywhere." which is sooo the spiral-coded)

relies on someone else to be his eyes so there's always the lingering background awareness that he may be missing or outright misrepresenting information & consequently he can't trust what he sees

the end

he's died.

multiple times.

there's also the omnipresent threats on his life but mostly just that. like. he's been The Ended. doesn't get much more direct than that

the stranger

i still think "losing parts of your body to another consciousness while they are still attached to you" is VERY the stranger type activities

the king in S1 turning any weak-willed bystanders against him so any stranger could turn into a threat without warning

also, the king and scratch posing as normal people, even people he knows sometimes!

a lot of addison gave the sense of being surrounded by people who saw him as Other and could not be trusted

orbited by a cast of nonhuman Entities remaking their identities into something closer to humanity for one reason or another (john, yellow, scratch, kayne) and frequently not quite hitting the mark (ty luci)

the lonely

general sense of alienation from his peers that started young and—just vibe checking here, just taking a general temperature—doesn't seem to have gotten much better over time

"I want him safe." / "You want him back." / "...Yes." <- guy who can totally handle being alone

john left and he went fully off the deep end in the span of like, a day

it's just one of those things that i think he hates and is terrified of but also is constantly haunted by

the desolation

the whole vibe of the death/destruction specifically of things that could have brought meaning to the world, or people who had a lot to live for and could have touched other lives and had an effect on others, is... um. (gestures vaguely at the. all of them)

will do LITERALLY ANYTHING to avoid losing anyone else.

also pain. i feel like pain takes a thematic backseat but it is still a part of the desolation and good lord is this man in so much pain basically all the time

physically burning an object with emotional significance to a friend and in doing so burning their relationship to ashes out of anger at said friend's happiness (william)

physically burning an object with emotional significance to himself after having intentionally cut someone he cared abt out of his life, sacrificing that last connection to save himself (oscar's letter)

one time he did an arson at an in-progress building site and left a guy bleeding out in the ruins!! desolation come get your juice

also independently invented molotovs so he could use them to kill a different thing which was perhaps divine inspiration straight from the lightless flame itself??

the slaughter

start with parker's death and just work your way down from there tbh

the butcher confrontation "Whose life did you take without provocation, without threat? Who did you kill that was innocent?" vs the slaughter's "random, senseless, unmotivated violence"

also knowing that pain and death are coming but not where or when or how. Yup 👍

just. in general. he has been wading through his own and other people's blood in equal measure since the start of the damn show

had to hide in a pit full of rotting corpses that one time

the vast

timelines! go confront how meaningless your entire life is in the face of the uncaring multiverse! have a quick crisis about it! fuck meaning!

i still don't have a whole lot for this one tbh

he can't stop falling off things obviously but i don't think he's particularly scared of that. i think he's resigned to it. balance is a fickle beast and he has accepted that it does not return his affections.

one time a kraken almost drowned him?

the buried

known claustrophobe!

almost got pinned in a cave, unable to move, on multiple different occasions!

this man and caves in general have a very very bad relationship. they keep making him be underground and then terrible things happen to him down there.

drowning goes here also :)

the dark

"Funny. Before all of this, I used to fear the dark. Not in any crippling way, but – but now it’s… well, now it’s no different." (part 12)

used to be unnerved by the dark and now he is blind. checks out

the whole forest with the dark young in part 49

also, the dark world. it's in the name, baby. that's more john's fear but i think it has to rub off on him at least a little bit

the corruption

eeeeverything that happened with the witch. she tried to use him to breed maggots. now that's what i call Corrupt™

horig, also

obsessive, almost self-destructive levels of devotion to an entity that killed his friend and wrecked his life. listen i'm supportive i think they're perfect for each other in an ESH way i'm just saying this probably also falls into the corruption's purview (ty luci)

ESPECIALLY considering john lives in his body like a parasite. not trying to be derogatory here but like, on an objective level. he is stealing his body parts. and arthur loves him. again, incredibly on-brand for the corruption

the web

he Doesn't Like Being Told What To Do >:[

ongoing vendetta against cult shit for this exact reason. the idea of not having fully free will seems to be very actively and deeply concerning for him

"I am the captain of my soul" and so on and so forth

john's (variably successful) attempts to manipulate him over the course of the show

more materially, having your body parts physically taken and moved by another is also sorta the web

patreon decisions... what if the web was a fuckton of tiny lil spiders that just sorta nudged you in one direction or another on occasion

got literally brainwormed by The Creature back in addison (twice!)

the flesh

Michael Fucking Faust.

also, had to bite his own finger off before that. in case you needed or wanted some bonus points

kind of also the witch again, in terms of having your personhood disregarded in favor of simply being Meat to other beings to feed on

the hunt

HOO BOY has he ever been Hunted. so many times by so many different things. take your fucking pick

also: "You are hunting." / "Predators need to be hunted." <- basically an active prayer to the hunt

this man is prey animal rage incarnate honestly. go!! lose yourself in the bloodlust!! kill them before they can kill you!!!!

john would really appreciate it if he was a little Less cozy with the hunt tbh :(

the extinction

i'm actually not counting this one bc it doesn't take avatars and also doesn't rrrreally exist yet

he's lived through a world war and a pandemic. how's that. i think that's as good as it gets.

CONCLUSION: i still think arthur should go shake hands with the vast and get carried off by a bird and hope that gets the rest of these assholes to fuck off. i think it's his best bet atp.

[galaxy-fleur]

hii! so, i saw your post about leon smut headcanons and i kinda loved it! can you make one for chris too? thank you <3

I love a good opportunity to think about Chris... Wrote this with post re6 and onwards Chris in mind!

In my head, Chris' libido has always been a bit on the lower side, though I do think it gets significantly better once he works through his issues that were plaguing him during re6. He's obviously in a way better place mentally, and his sex life is a perfect reflection of that. He likes to have sex with his partner maybe once or twice a week, but it's usually a lengthy and intense fucking session. You could even crack a joke that he's just charging up his inner battery before going at it with you, though he won't be very amused (he totally will).

Every choice Chris takes, no matter how tiny, is weighed down by a great deal of obligations and expectations. He doesn't regret choosing this life for himself. It goes without saying, though, that carrying this great load of responsibility all the time is exhausting.

Sex is, in a sense, both his comfort and outlet. Nothing compares to returning home from a long, demanding day and losing himself in your shared touch and pleasure until his brain is blissfully empty. Maybe that's why he likes to do it methodically and slowly. He gives you everything he has, just like he does in his career. He is devoted and enthusiastic. Not to sound too sappy, but having sex with him always reminds you why you fell for this man in the first place.

In terms of his tastes, I believe he would be quite skilled at using his hands to satisfy his partner. And I mean every part of his hands. Biceps, palms, fingers - everything. There's just something about using these hands of his that are usually meant for holding weapons and inflicting damage for something else that makes you both feel good. It just... flips a certain switch in his brain.

Needless to say, he touches you constantly. Be it gentle caresses over the contours of your figure or fervent groping at any flesh his greedy fingers can reach. He needs to have his hands on you and feel the warmth of your body under his palms. Getting you off with one hand while keeping your back flush against his chest with the other, his mouth swallowing up all of your beautiful sounds, is probably one of his favorite things to do. There's nothing more satisfying to him than feeling you being totally ensnared by him.

If you're into that, and you are okay with it, I do see him finding a certain thrill in putting you in a headlock, too. It'd be painfully obvious that he's holding back on you, though. Almost funnily so, because at first, he'll barely put any pressure at all. He simply does not wish to cause you any harm, bless his heart. It's sweet of him to care. He won't complain, though, if you're all for being smothered by those biceps of his.

I do not see Chris as a rough sex-partner per se, but his size and strength sort of give off that impression once he gets real into it. However, before engaging in any actual fucking, he always makes sure you're nice and lubricated, whether it's by natural means, or with the help of some lubricant. He knows that he's big. He's honestly more embarrassed than proud of it. So be sure to give him lots of compliments! Having said that, I do believe he has a slight praise kink. On the receiving end. Even though Chris normally takes the lead, a few tender kisses and sincere compliments from you will quickly make his knees buckle and his breath hitch. So... that's something you can take advantage of whenever you feel like it.

I would say that his favorite positions are face-off and doggie, as well as good old missionary. After a difficult week or two, doggy is a terrific way to relieve stress and release all of his pent-up energy. But as you go at it, it usually becomes a pinned doggy. He just can't help but want to be close to you. Conversely, face-off is for more intimate, slower, and emotionally charged sex. Primarily when he needs some consolation. It's a bit unconventional, but I see a lot of meaningful conversations occurring during or after that type of sex with him.

He's louder than you might imagine when it comes to how vocal he is. He rarely full-on moans, but what he does a lot is groan. And he groans pretty loudly. It's a very hot thing to have him pant, huff, and rumble into your ear because his voice just naturally becomes deeper and raspier when lust clouds his head. He usually cums with a broken gasp, throwing his head back. An absolutely stunning sight to behold, and a terrific incentive for you to spoil him by sucking him off, but I'm getting off topic. He's also the type to talk during sex, oddly enough. Not even dirty talk, but actual conversation.

It's a weird quirk, and it sure can get annoying when he's actively thrusting in and out of you, and then starts talking to you about what happened at work earlier. With that, he's a bit of a weirdball. Still, off-topic discussions aside, he's big on communicating, so it's not all bad. He can and does say fitting things too! He's very prone to talking you through it, so speak.

You can expect him to say something like: 'I've been thinking about this all day... Coming home to you, having you like this.' 'Are you close? Yeah, I know, I got you. Just look at me, will you? Just like that. Perfect.'

Chris pays close attention to aftercare as well. Usually asks you a few questions to see if you're sore or uncomfortable anywhere, and takes care of you if needed. Before cleaning himself, he always makes sure to clean you off first. Huge on cuddles after sex. He loves it more than anything else. Simply to keep you close to his chest once your sexy time is over. The fact that he's like a big, cozy teddy bear for you to snuggle with is definitely a pleasant bonus. Always prepares your breakfast the next day, even when he has to leave. You need to get your strength back! Or so he claims. He really just does it as a thank-you.

[kookidough]

analysing vance hopper because he lives in my head 24/7 !

tw for like. literally everything the black phone covers!!!!!!

also there's some special effects gore rather far down in the post idk just i feel like i should warn you just in case

okay so before anyones like "but bee!!!! he only had 6 minutes of screen time in a 102 minute long movie!!!!! he was only on screen for 5.8% of the movie!!!!!" and to that i say i Know it was a real tragedy so a lot of this will be built on personal interpretation and subtext and stuff said behind the scenes and whatnot

so firstly i wanna rot about what his childhood/upbringing might've been like..... i havent quite decided on something definitive but i think we can take one look at his character and realise that is glaringly obvious he had a bad childhood, in one interview the actor that plays him (brady hepner) says "the background i had set up for vance is that the reason he was the way he was is his home life was fairly difficult, you know maybe his dad was either not there for him or he wasn't supportive, maybe he was fairly abusive, and so that creates a hair trigger sense of rage in vance" hair trigger meaning his patience is literally as thin as a strand of hair it does Not take a lot for him to snap

there more to it after that which i'll get into soon but yea thats the gist of it it's clear he had absent/neglectful/abusive parents and that would certainly contribute to why he's so angry all the time, maybe acting so explosive was the only way to get his parents' attention, either good or bad, so he just internalised that. obviously rage and anger issues like vance's lead to violence (not in all cases but in his case it does) and i think a neglectful and abusive upbringing would obviously expose him to more violence than a normal childhood would, therefore normalising it and desensitising him to it, whether he's seeing it play out in his own home and/or on television or something like that (because i doubt his parents would be the kind to monitor what content he's viewing)

i feel like he has little control over his life and that only adds to his anger, which in his case leads to a fight when his buttons are pushed too many times. i think he probably takes great pride in being the toughest in town and whatnot and winning fights and being perceived as strong and scary is good to him and helps him regain control/power, something he doesnt have at home. the rest of the quote from the interview i mentioned earlier states "this pinball machine could have been the only thing that he has in his heart that's like, good, like 'holy cow i did this, i set the score,' so when someone comes along and messes it up for him, it takes away the only thing that he has. i think that that's when he switches to a 'now you're gonna pay for that'"

similar to what i said about fighting, the pinball machine and his high score is something he has control over and its an important part of his reputation/image like. hes literally pinball vance ! and the whole thing about that high score being the "only thing he has in his heart that's good" implies that hes. well. pretty shit at everything else, which is pretty much canon if you remember that gwen said vance was held back twice in school. makes me think that while he's not the brightest in school he's certainly street smart

moving onto ermmmmm him getting kidnapped era because im sure youre wondering "well bee if he's so street smart then why did he get kidnapped" so may i raise two theories (this is. literally all i got and its not even concrete, me and my friend gray (@staggersz) tried to figure out how this could even happen and this is the most plausible thing we've got. so shoutout to him real quick he has had to deal with me being unnormal about vance for like a year and a half thanks king couldnt have done all this without my rotting buddy)

so either he got taken by surprise (most likely option) or vance's trust was gained first via getting given quarters at the pinball machine and small talk and shit like that but this is unlikely because i feel like it'd take a loooooong time for someone like vance to trust a some random stranger adult man when he clearly has issues with trusting and respecting people older than him and people with authority (e.g. cops, his parents, or school officials) so yea being taken by surprise would probably be the most realistic option, i always see people on tiktok being like "how did the grabber kidnap vance hes so strong!!!!" dude its a 15 year old boy against like. a 45 year old man who's already claimed two lives its really not gonna be a fair fight here

before i get into the next part i wanna quickly address a theory i absolutely Hate and it is so easily disproven and that is the theory that vance is the grabber's son or is related to him in some other way and i see it Far too often on tiktok and i HATE it. from what ive seen this all stems from his dream sequence where he kicks open the fence to albert's house and, presumably, goes inside after being dropped off by the police after the grab n go fight. idk if some people just straight up didnt realise this but clearly in real life he is going to his Own House??? in the dream it's only albert's house because this is how he chooses to show gwen the house she's trying to find her brother in, the house that he himself was killed in??? i hate the theory i hate it sm

the dream sequence itself is interesting though as the ghosts seem to only be able to conjure up what theyve seen in real life (like how bruce can picture the outside of the house and show that to gwen but the house number is all flipped and not right beause he doesnt know it) so vance being able to picture the house and the number and the gate and every detail would imply that hes seen it before, but im going to explain that away as either he got out once before like with finney's failed escape attempt, or the house is most likely on the route he walks to school or the grab n go or something and he hasnt actually been there prior to being kidnapped

mini rant over now onto being kidnapped i guess, so i used the missing posters to try and estimate a timeline of how long each ghost boy would've been in the basement for (although the missing posters are notoriously unreliable for details such as looks/height/age/etc, the dates seem to all line up). so we know the order is griffin, billy, vance, bruce, robin, finney, right?? if we use the poster date then billy was taken on may 4th, 1976, a month and two days after griffin was taken (april 2nd 1976). vance was taken on september 23rd 1977, almost a full year later (stay with me im going somewhere with this), and after that bruce was taken on july 18th 1978, again almost a full year later

its established in the movie that the grabber stalks his victims before he takes them (canon because we literally see the van watching finney and gwen as they walk home from school early on in the movie) but we dont know how long he does this for since griffin/billy and robin/finney were taken such short distances apart and then the others were taken such long distances apart, also it's possible he could stalk his next victim while the previous one is still alive, etc etc lots of confusing factors, but if i've done the maths right then the absolute maximum time vance could've spent down there is 9 months and 25 days, or 298 days, so erm . let that sink in !

howeverrrr in the movie gwen states that vance went missing "last spring" and september is definitely not in spring, meaning he could've been down there for a year or even longer. an explanation or excuse i could think of for the movie and the missing poster saying different things (other than the missing posters being known for some areas being wildly inaccurate) is that maybe he was taken in spring but wasnt labelled as officially missing until september, when he was properly linked to griffin and billy's similar disappearances and the mysterious grabber? i can imagine it'd be very easy for law enforcement, especially in the 70s, to dismiss someone like vance as a runaway until they get solid evidence that he was taken. idk though thats just my personal excuse / angsty headcanon for the difference in information

not sure what exactly killed him but we do hear from vance himself that "he took his time with me" so it was probably blood loss from a variety of injuries, if we look at him in his ghost scenes we can see his hair is absolutely covered in blood which indicates head injury, he clearly has a broken nose and bruising around his eyes as a result of it, he has these deep cuts on his abdomen area (apologies for the image quality but i believe they're like. sfx pieces you would wear under clothing)

and he also has just like. minor bruising (like the fingerprints on his arm) and other random blood splatters on his face and neck (assuming the blood down his neck comes from wherever he was bleeding on his head) so Yeah overall very unpleasant way to die obviously

okay now the part thats actually in the movie and it only took me 13 paragraphs to get here: vance as a ghost!! first thing i wanna point out is appearance wise i just want to say that when he's a ghost he's missing his choker and that fact Pains me. anyway personality-wise i feel like being violently murdered has, understandably, kicked his rage up to like. the highest level it could possibly go. he's insanely snarky and downright rude to finney on the phone, showing no empathy to the fact that finney is literally in the exact situation he was in

i feel like the whole "this is the nightmare end of your pathetic little life" and "if you knew what you had coming, you'd be fucking terrified" thing is definitely to scare finney on purpose and to get him to do something, vance might as well have just told him he's never going home cuz thats how it came across LMAOO, it is startling though because vance is clearly speaking from experience, that he was literally fucking terrified, and he is warning finney in his own weird way

the thing i think sets vance apart from the other ghosts is that while he does help finney, he does it for a different reason than they do. the other ghosts want finney to escape, to get out, to be free, to live, but personally i dont think vance cares about that. the only thing he wants is for albert shaw to be dead, for someone to seek vengeance, to do what vance couldn't. vance doesn't care if it's bruce or robin or finney or whatever boy could've come after that, he doesnt care as long as that man gets what he deserves after what he put vance through, and i see this through the scene at the end of vance's call where finney thanks him for his help and vance says, and i quote, "helping you? this isn't about you, fuck him! and apologies for being repetitive but to me it just literally proves that to vance, this isnt about finney or his escape, its just about revenge

we dont get to find out what happens to the ghosts once the credits have rolled, and i dont think we quite know enough about tbp's version of ghosts to guess what theyre up to, but i have a few theories :3 maybe theyre no longer bound to those two houses and they can now go anywhere they want in town? or maybe since their shared goal of stopping albert has been achieved, the ghosts can finally pass on to whatever is waiting for them next. i dont think vance would be content to pass on that quickly or easily as anger lingers, but i hope he'd be able to let go of it eventually, and hey we might find out in the sequel. i pray it mentions him cuz i will just die if it doesnt

sometimes, ok thats a lie, frequently i think about an au where he survived or escaped or whatever but ohhhh boy this post is already a train wreck so that au would deserve its own essay of a post :3 if u actually genuinely read this far then Wtf thanks for reading the ramblings of an absolute madman, only pure delusion could get like 20 paragraphs about a guy with 6 minutes screentime but hey thats how i roll, thanks again to my pal gray for letting me rot and thank u to my other pal ana for also enduring all this rot

hope u enjoyed my interpretation of vance hopper im going to crawl in a hole now and probably brainrot some more, thanks again for ur time :3

[nabiracha]

Magic? Since when?!

I got inspo randomly and decided to write this. Hope you like it ;)

Synopsis: Your movie turned out to be a movie-well, a long time after you found Jeongin with one of your charms. Your secret was out, and now he was fucked. Twice, because he's an idiot and a clutz. Well, three times.

Warnings: Magic, Unprotected sex, dirty talk kind of, uhh...kind of desperate!Jeongin...Yeah I missed a lot.

Jeongin had always followed me around like a puppy, my best friend. We’d known each other for years, since we were around 6. They call those the “innocent” years, but I was never innocent. In kindergarten, I was drawing things in the mud. Things I didn’t know the meaning of. But they came to me, just like they do now. 

Sings, symbols, witchcraft, they said it was just my “imagination.” They weren’t wrong, at that age it was my imagination. The day Jeongin met me was the day my nails dug into another little boy's arm and ripped his flesh as much as a 6 year old kid, which wasn’t much. I had gotten angry at the boy because he was bullying Jeongin, calling him scary. “I love scary things!” I had protested, mispronouncing some words as all 6 year olds did. 

That was the day Jeongin became my best friend, even if I scared him sometimes. It’s like he saw the light inside me that nobody else saw hidden behind my darkness. But we weren’t six anymore, and my drawings weren’t just my imagination. They were real, conjuring up things no one would believe. I, myself, hadn’t believed it at first; when the paper came to life,and my origami tiger leapt around the table. 

I had started off small, but at one point…I got more in depth, more in tune with whatever I possessed. I had learned to do simple things without drawings or speaking, just a simple thought and it was done. Like making the remote come to me from across the room, or summoning a towel, or even just conversing with the animals in my backyard.

But I did this when I was alone, never letting myself slip up. Until I did. It was unexpected, unplanned, when my magic was set off. And I don’t think I meant to do it, because I hadcast something I had only learnt once, and now…

—🔹—🔹——🔹—🔹——🔹—🔹——🔹—🔹——🔹—🔹——🔹—🔹—

Jeongin and I planned to have a movie night tonight, like we always did on Saturdays when he had the most time off during his hectic schedule. He was an idol, so no one except his managers and members knew I existed in his life. 

“Did you get the mint chocolate chip ice cream?” I stared down my nose, somehow, at the taller man with a sharp glare after I had went through the snack bag and found no signs of my favorite ice cream. Jeongin shared the same glare, but it was playful. I broke character, laughing slightly as he grinned. “My bad, bunny.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. 

I brushed him off, telling him I’d go get it. And after searching for thirty minutes and three stores, and about fifteen “why the hell didn’t stores around here carry my ice cream?” complaints, I found it. I was happy, while I drove back to my apartment. Until i smelt it.

Black sulfur. Magic, my magic. I ran inside as fast as i could, ice cream left on the stairs. When the door bust open, Jeongin stood frozen, a charm in his hand. “No-!” It was too late, my hand stretching out and a white zap traveling from my palm to his in under a millisecond. 

At first, nothing happened. Nothing should have happened, because I hadn’t meant to cast anything. But fate always had a way of fucking me over, whether it was making me dream about my best friend in inappropriate ways, or catching glimpses of things I shouldnt have, getting stuck in places I shouldn’t, raining on days I wished it hadn’t…and now. Jeongin hadn’t noticed it, but I did. 

He had…ears…and a tail. Not just any ears, fox ears. And a tail matching the same brown-orange color. My eyes were wide, frozen. First of all, no one knew I did any kind of magic. Second, that was the most powerful spell I had ever cast and it wasn’t even on purpose. And third, it was my best friend I had cast that spell on…

My best friend, an idol, who goes out in public so much his fans would be able to tell you his daily routine, the size of shit, and how long he pissed. STAYS were that incredibly scary kind of geniuses. One time, they had hacked an entire website because they had done Stray Kids dirty. “Shit.” I muttered.

To say I had royaly fucked up was an under statement. Jeongin was freaking the fuck out, while also thinking it was the coolest thing ever, but mostly freaking the fuck out. “Oh my god! Chan’s gonna kill me. And then you!” He pointed at me, who was currently sitting on the couch with a guilty look. “I am so fucking mad.” He grumbled, burying his face in his hands when he sat down on the couch with his elbows on his knees. 

I gulped, not knowing whether to be silent or comfort him. “I’m gonna kill you before he does.” Okay, be silent it is. Jeongin side-eyed me, but it wasn’t playful. If looks could kill, I’d have died more than size times in the past thirty minutes. “Look-” “No, shut it.” He interrupted me, holding his hand up. “I should fucking punish you.” I didn't know if that was sexual, because he had mumbled it, but my body took it that way. 

My cheeks had flushed slightly at the comment, looking away. Jeongin lifted his head from his hands, staring me down as I looked anywhere but him. Wow, the ceiling is so interesting… “Y/n.” Yeah, I was in deep shit. He used my name, not my nickname. I gulped, refusing to make eye-contact even after he demanded I did. 

I yelped when his hand met my throat, squeezing enough to make me a little light headed but not enough to cut off the airflow. “When the hell did you learn to do magic or whatever the fuck it is you did to me, and why didn’t you tell me?” His gaze had changed a fraction, like something akin to hurt.

“I hadn’t learned to control it yet–” “Obviously.” I gave him a glare when he interrupted me, a look that said “Let me finish, asshat.” and he shut up. “Plus, would you have believed me if I had outright said “Oh, hey, by the way, I can do magic.” He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I’d have asked you to prove it.” “Exactly. Which is why I was trying to control it better before telling anyone–” “Wait, so no one knows except me?” I glared at him for interrupting me again before nodding. “As I was saying,” I let out an exaggerated sigh, giving him attitude and receiving a look from him because of it.

“You picked up a bad charm, it’s why I had freaked out and did whatever this is,” I moved my hand, motioning to him. His tail, which still freaked me out, twitched as did his ears. “We have to find out a way to undo it.”

—🔹—🔹—

Chan had taken the bait, well, not that it wasn’t true. Jeongin came up with the smart idea for me to dislocate his shoulder and pop it back in. I had told him it was stupid, but after near an hour of him begging, I gave in. He screamed like a fucking baby, as expected, but was fine after a few days. He was now staying at my house while I figured out how to undo whatever I had done to him. 

“No, Jeongin, put that down. I swear, you're like a little kid.” He put the purple charm down, not before spilling the red potion on himself. I gasped, he yelped, and I gasped again at his pupils dilating. “You are such an idiot!” I cursed him, before noticing the growing bulge in his pants and the wagging of his tail. 

“B-bunny? What the hell was that?” His voice sounded strained, and I could feel my underwear sticking to myself. See what I mean when I say fate was cruel? “I told you not to touch anything and you split a fucking aphrodisiac on yourself.” I groaned, running my hand down my face. Now, we're in worse than before. “Fuck.” He cursed, pupils fully blown. “You smell so good, y/n.”

My core ached at just his words. Sometimes, he would say something so innocent but my body would take it the wrong way, and now, he was saying something dirty and it made it worse. “Stop. Go take a shower.” He knew he was being dumb, so he listened. No matter how much either of us wanted it, we couldn’t. He was my best friend, an Idol, and someone who I am so attracted to it’s unbelievable.

It’s why I hadn’t dated since high school, because Jeongin was now the name that rolled off my tongue late into the night when no one else was around. His body was now the one I imagined press against mine, bending me over the couch and fucking me till I couldn’t handle it anymore.

And now I was turning it down.

Jeongin came out an hour later, no better than he was when he went in the shower. We tried to focus on the task at hand–finding out how to undo the first spell. But Jeongin kept adjusting himself, trying to hide the fact he was palming himself under the blanket. “Hey, wait, look.” He leaned over my shoulder to look at the old, worn-down book. 

I could feel his warm breath on my neck, labored and shallow. He had barely made a peep in the last thirty minutes, and I understood why. “Bunny, please,” He rested his head on my shoulder, pressing a kiss to it. “It hurts. Please, fix it.” My breath hitched, a new wave of arousal pooling in my lower abdomen. “I can smell you, bunny. Smell your desire.” He whispered, peppering kisses up to my jawline. 

My breath hitched, and I didn’t stop him when he pushed me onto my back, undoing the spell long forgotten. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed. I had the same look, although not as gone as him. “Jeongin…” I whispered his name. “Are you sure…you wont regret this?” 

He paused for a moment before laughing slightly. “You know, I’ve thought about this before. Taking you like I want. Claiming you as mine.” My breath hitched again, eyes widening slightly. He didn’t give me time to respond, pressing a kiss to my mouth. I knew he wanted to take his time, as did I. But we had a problem to fix, so he wasted no time in shredding both our clothes off. “Need to taste you, bunny. See if you taste as good as you smell.” My eyes fluttered, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as his lips traveled downwards till he reached just above where i wanted him the most.

I gasped, his jerking up slightly when he licked my clit. He held my hips down with one hand, his arm sprawled across me as he moaned at the taste, muttering about how he “wished he had done this sooner.” And I was moaning, back arching to meet him.

His tongue lapped up everything I had to give, bringing me close to the edge quicker than I ever had before. But he didn’t let me, pulling away right before my orgasm. I whined, but he interrupted me before I could complain by rubbing his tip against my entrance. “You can cum on my cock baby, gotta feel it.”

I whimpered slightly when his tip broke through, although he was met with little resistance. I was wet, and I wasn’t the one who took the aphrodisiac. “Fuck, bunny. You’re so warm, wet, tight. You take my cock so well. Like you were made for me.” He mumbled, more to himself than me. 

He thrusted all the way in, giving me no time to adjust before setting a brutal pace. “Sorry, baby. I’ll take my time next time.” I whispered, burying his face in my neck. Next time?

I was moaning, legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed under my knees, moving my knees to rest on his shoulder. My moans were turning into screams, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Feels so good, so big…” I mumbled. “Yeah? Making you feel good baby?” I nodded, whimpering. 

“Gonna cum?” Fuck, was I. I was so close, and I knew when it happened, I’d be ruined for any other guy. He moved his hand, thumb pressing against my clit in tight circles. “Cum for me, bunny.” His tail brushed against my leg, his hips faltering as i came with a moan-like scream, back arching as his name slipped past my lips.

He wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts and he was spilling himself inside me. I moaned softly at the feeling, legs twitching. He pulled out, rubbing my inner thighs gently. “Just so you know, you’re my girlfriend.” I sputtered at him, blinking rapidly. I nodded, “Okay, yeah.” I laughed, “Didn’t even ask,” He grinned sheepishly.

“Really?” He was still hard. “What? It’s not–okay, it is my fault but it’s also your fault for having the stupid potion out!” I rolled my eyes, a grin on my face as he pressed his lips to mine. 

“Take what you need.” And that he did.

[the-sea-called-history02]

How Stray Kids say, “I love you,” without saying it (hyung line)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mild cursing

Maknae line

Bang Chan

Spoils you

This man loves nothing more than to spoil the ever-loving shit out of you. He knows he can’t always be there, and the guilt of that eats him alive all the time, so he takes every chance he gets to buy you any and everything he can. You’ve told him a million times that he shouldn’t buy you such expensive gifts, but he won’t have any of that. You’re his whole world outside of Stray Kids, and he just prays that his gifts can make up for the time he has to be away from you.

“Jokingly” calls you the boys’ mother

Originally, it was Jeongin who started the joke because you had asked him to do something around the house, to which he responded with an eye roll and an, “okay, mOm,” but it kind of just stuck, and Chan can’t get enough of it. He’s someone who prioritizes family over everything, so any chance he can include you in that, he will take it in a heartbeat.

Lee Minho

Craves your touch

He might not seem like it, but skz themselves have said that Minho is the most romantic member. He’ll try to be subtle about it, but you’ll somehow always find his hands on you in some way. Whether it be lightly squeezing your hand, tracing his fingers across your back, or even a little boop on the nose, he’s always finding some sort of reason to touch you.

Defends you

If there’s one thing Minho NEVER plays about, it’s how precious you are to him. Therefore, he is most certainly not going to tolerate anyone speaking poorly of you. He will be the first to block “fans” that have something hateful to say about your relationship. It dumbfounds him that people who don’t know either of you think they can comment on the most important person in his world and then act buddy-buddy with him. He won’t think twice about lashing out if it’s for you.

Seo Changbin

“Did you eat?”

Such a simple question that holds so much meaning to Binnie. Like Chan, he wants you to know that he’s always thinking about you, even when he’s a million miles away. He also wants you to know that the pressure to be “perfect” that he faces day-to-day should never be a burden you face, and that starts with having a healthy relationship with food and your body. (Plus, he’s lowkey looking for ideas on what he should have for lunch, so please send him food pics.)

Credits you in his songs

After all the late nights you’ve pulled just to keep him company while he works, you deserve a spot in the credits just as much as he does, in his mind. Especially if he’s writing a love song because who else could he have ever written that about? Might even give you a stage name if your relationship is private so you can both laugh at stay going out of their minds, theorizing who this new writer working with skz is.

Hwang Hyunjin

OOTD’s

Loverboy™ has 3 passions. Art, dance, and adding to his portfolio of daily photos of you. He stops you anytime you’re about to leave the house to get a quick pic of your ootd, whether it’s just sweats and an old t-shirt, or a full evening gown, he has an insatiable appetite for the goofy, awkward poses you do anytime he whips out the camera. To him, every photo of you is more precious than gold, and he is not above throwing a mini tantrum if you forget to send him daily pictures while he’s on tour.

Collects your drawings

You could have the art skills of a three-year-old on crack, but this man would still take your napkin doodles and keep them in a special scrapbook. Draw on his arm, and he’ll proudly wear it like a badge of honor, taking pictures so he can still have it after he has to wash it off. Definitely the type to drunkenly get one of your quick sketches tattooed and not have a single regret about it in the morning.

[distracted-milkshake]

Tony Stark A-Z Cuddling Headcanons:

Warnings: mentions of sex adjacent things (aftercare), literally nothing else

A. Apart. If they really like cuddling, how do they feel when the can't? Do they substitute pillows? He doesn’t like to admit it, but he gets used to it and feels deprived to the point of having trouble falling asleep when he can’t. He gets fidgety, but won’t bring himself to make do with pillows or anything else, that’s not what does it for him

B. Breathing. Does their breathing slow down, speed up or stay the same when they're really close to someone else? It slows down noticeably, something that’s been difficult to get into with him is how no matter what’s happening, he’s always just that bit stressed. It’s more evident when he’s actual able to relax, just how tense and controlled he usually is looks like a different person in comparison

C. Contact. Is skin-to-skin uncomfortable for them? To start? Oh yeah. Any skin on skin that wasn’t sexual just felt off, but after some time he started wanting to be able to feel your bare arms, chest or back against him

D. Daytime. Morning, evening, midday or night, when do they prefer and when do they cuddle better? He cuddles best in the evenings, after everything else has been officially put aside for bed

E. Efficiency. Are they utilitarian about it? Do they have to be able to get something done while cuddling or can they get completely lost in it? He needs it to manage to take his mind off everything for even a minute, it’s one of few things he can convince himself is more about you than him, and therefore not a waste of time to not be getting anything else done in the meanwhile. Doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried

F. Frequency. How often do they like to cuddle? If he could, it would be for hours every other day and twice on Sundays. He absolutely refuses to beg or even ask more than once a week, however, so he makes do with just every now and then

G. Generally. Are they more of an active snuggler or a passive holder? Are they delicate and slow or more rough and nuzzly? Fully on the fucking little spoon Tony, you cannot tell me this man has the emotional wherewithal to give much more than a stiff hug. He needs to be held to even realize he wants it

H. Height. Do they prefer to be above or below or right at their partner's eye level? Below, he likes to be able to bury his face against you and feel your heartbeat

I. Irritated. Does it come naturally? Are they upset they aren't good at it? Is there anything that really annoys them? It’s always gotta end, whether it’s work or calls or just plain discomfort, he can’t just rest with you forever and sometimes he really, really wants to

J. Jittering. How good are they at holding still and not elbowing/kneeing their partner? Once he gets into it he’s pretty good about that, but before getting settled he can be unbearable

K. Kissing. Is cuddling inherently romantic for them? The question sort of lacks application. You’re inherently the romance of his life, and he thinks of you that way, but you’re also his best friend, so split the difference? Cuddling is an expression of love for you, in all the ways he feels it

L. Location. Pretty self explanatory; couch, bed, grass, bench, floor, etc... Where's the snuggling getting down at? Literally anywhere, if you’ve got a minute, and he’s tired, or drunk, or down, he will cuddle up to you without any preamble, with or without reciprocation

M. Meaning. What does cuddling mean to them, like, does it make them feel loved? Is it a reminder of relationships past in a good or bad way? He’s never really been close in that way to anyone, so it feels very special to share it with you

N. Nest. Are they That Person™ who likes to make a whole piling pallet of pillows and blankets and plushies that uses every soft object within a quarter-mile radius? Nope! Not the nesting, but the nestling type, your the best pillow in the whole world as far as he’s concerned, and he would gladly nap on concrete if you were next to him

O. Opinion. Do they even like cuddling? Are they open to it? Would they prefer to show affection some other way? He loves it. It’s easier than talking, and it shows he loves you without having to get into anything all that difficult

P. Positions. (First person to make a sex joke gets it) This article is incredibly helpful. He really likes to face you. Anything with him on your chest, lap, or in your arms is ideal

Q. Questions. Do they feel like talking in ways they otherwise wouldn't when cuddling? Does it help them open up? Depending on the context, it absolutely can help him get to deeper feelings express himself in less extravagant and more meaningful ways

R. Response. If they haven't cuddled with their partner at all before, how do they react when first asked? He was by no means against it, it just felt like a weird, kind of juvenile thing to him, especially outside of the context of aftercare or falling asleep

S. Spooning. You knew it was coming. Who's the big/little spoon? Or knife. Fork? Spork...? (are they neither a spoon nor a spooned?) As already established, Tony is the little spoon I will die on this damn hill, that waist was made to be held

T. Temperature. Assuming it's already a comfortable for them temperature in the house/room/place, do they want to be warmer or cooler cuddling? Blankets are a no unless your looking for him to fall asleep, he prefers to have airflow and not build up a lot of body heat while cuddling

U. Under. Assuming they don't exclusively cuddle sideways, do they want the other person on top of them or vice versa? He loves feeling supported by you, he tends to get a little uncomfortable with your weight on top of him for too long, unless it’s any of his limbs in which case he’ll let them fall asleep and not notice till you move

V. Volume. Do they need silence or can other things be going on? It isn’t necessary, but it is preferable for him that other things are nonexistent or at least stalled

W. Wallowing. Is it emotional for them, and if so in a good way or a bad way? The first time Tony cried in front of you was when you were cuddling. The worst part was how much he thought he’d messed up, trying to deny or justify why, the reason wasn’t as heartbreaking as his inability to accept that it was okay. He’s still working up to letting himself feel things that intensely, and knowing he’s allowed to

X. eXplaining. Would they feel embarrassed if someone else walked in on them and their s/o cuddling? He has no shame, so pretty much no, but he would feel the need to explain himself

Y. Yours. Are they generous or do they kinda take what they want? Usually a pretty selfish partner in general, but he’s been getting better at it

Z. Zzz.... Does almost none of this matter if it just puts them to sleep...? Tony sleeps an absolute rock, but the good news that makes him a great sleep cuddler, and an even better weighted blanket

He just loves being physically close to you, whether cuddling or not

Blank List

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Do you think it was sexist that Toph and Katara were always fighting, while they didn't really have much conflict with the boys, and the boys didn't have much conflict with each other?

QUE!?

Literally not a single part of that statement is truth. "Katara and Toph are CONSTANTLY fighting"? Really?

They fought exactly twice (The Chase and The Runaway - and the first one is literally Katara and AANG fighting Toph). Three times if we include the disagreement on whether Zuko should join the group, and that one is more of a "Toph VS Everybody" deal.

"They don't really have much conflict with the boys, and the boys didn't have much conflict with each other"

The first scene of the show is literally Katara being so mad at Sokka that she breaks a fucking iceberg without even meaning to. The rest of the episode is all about Sokka's one-sided beef with Aang, and Katara being annoyed at him for it. The Kyoshi Warriors episode also starts with a sibling fight, and the rest of it is Katara and Aang not seeing eye to eye.

Katara and Sokka are fighting during both the Jet and Great Divide episodes, and they have a major falling out with Aang in the Bato Of The Water Tribe. Sokka also lashes out at Aang for accidentally burning Katara.

Aang and Katara don't really fight, but have a very serious disagreement over the whole Avatar State thing at the very start of season 2, which is immediately followed by Katara fuming with rage at Aang for saying he didn't want to kiss her in Cave Of Two Lovers.

Toph and Aang have an absurdly childish fight in her introduction episode, followed by them having conflict again in The Chase, then in Bitter Work, then AGAIN once Appa is kidnaped - which leads to Aang being either mad at everything or shutting off emotionally, both of which hurt Katara's feelings. Toph is also clearly annoyed at Sokka in The Serpent's Pass for ignoring everything she's doing just because his crush is around.

We have another stance of "Aang VS Everybody" at the start of season three, then Katara and Sokka fight again in The Painted Lady, and then the entire multiple-episode drama of "Zuko is one of us now" happens, which literally includes a threat of murder from Katara to Zuko AND Aang trying to advice them both against their murder quest. After it we also have the Ember Island fiasco between Katara and Aang, Zuko throwing fire balls around because he's mad at his friends for chilling during war time, Toph resenting Zuko for rejecting the life-changing field trip and the inevitable heart-to-heart that should come with it, and finally Aang frustration at how everyone is ignoring his agency and feelings when it comes to the whole "kill Ozai" thing.

In what world do two/three fights (only ONE of which involved just Toph and Katara, no one else joining in at any point) can compete with ALL of that? And how was any of it sexist when all these fights were rooted either in natural personality clashes or a disagreement over something as serious as "Should the guy that constantly tried to kill us be allowed to just chill with us now?", not in a sexist believe that girls simply can't get along or inevitably see each other as just competention to get attention from boys?

Acknowledging the simple fact that "friends fight sometimes, especially if they're kids who basically live together and with no adults around" could never be sexist.

You know what is sexist though? Ignoring/downplaying every instance of conflict between the guys (among themselves or with the girls) to focus on the girls clashing, reducing every disagreement between two girls to "a catfight", and/or acting like women aren't allowed to disagree with, get annoyed by, or even dislike each other just because they're both women. Which this fandom tends to do a lot and I'm sick of it.

[arabella0001]

request!

✩cn: fluff, au, teasing, slow burn

fandom: naruto

nerd!Sasuke whose deal you can’t figure out no matter how hard you try—who walks through life like school is optional, like he’s somehow allergic to effort and still getting perfect grades.

nerd!Sasuke who you tried to catch up to after missing a week from a cold, only to realize it’s impossible—because he barely shows up and still magically understands everything, like some academically blessed cryptid with a superiority complex.

nerd!Sasuke who you scowled at without realizing—pout on your face, arms crossed, dramatic walk to the door—only to lock eyes with him mid-huff, your glare meeting his unreadable blink.

You didn’t even realize your brows were still furrowed as you got up from your desk, walking arrogantly and with a huff toward the classroom door. You didn’t even realize your scowl was locked right onto Sasuke. He blinked. Once. Twice. And you froze. There’s just something intimidating about him. You never know what he’s thinking. It’s not like he talks much—at most, you’ve heard him say a few words to the two friends you’ve seen him hang out with, usually while he’s leaned back lazily against a wall, and maybe, maybe you even caught him smiling once. It was… actually kind of a nice smile. I mean, he is really handsome and— Okay, what the hell are these thoughts? He’s a weirdo. Stop it.

nerd!Sasuke who doesn’t say much, ever—just a few words here and there to his two weird friends, usually while he’s leaned against some wall like he belongs in a teen drama—but you swear you caught him smiling once, and now it haunts you

During the break, you found your friend—unfortunately, she’s not in the same classes as you—and came back a little too late. Class had already started.

nerd!Sasuke who’s already in his seat when you come back late from break, cheeks burning with embarrassment as the teacher rolled their eyes and waved you in to sit down.

You stepped in quietly, eyes darting around the room dramatically, until you realized the only available seat was—great—next to the guy who was already looking at you. Perfect.

nerd!Sasuke who doesn’t even react when you whisper “hey,” just sits there in his own quiet world until he gives a small, almost mechanical nod before looking out the window again like you didn’t just combust beside him.

Oh. So he doesn’t even like me. You tried to ignore the dumb thought and focus on the lesson—until you started clicking your pen too hard. And broke it. “Shit.”

nerd!Sasuke who offers you his pen without a word when you break yours from clicking it too hard, leaving you stunned and blinking at his calm expression like sir???

nerd!Sasuke who, when you whisper “but isn’t that your only one?” just pulls out a pencil like it’s no big deal—like he didn’t just launch you into a whole crisis about whether or not that was… nice?

nerd!Sasuke who doesn't react at all when the teacher says, “I believe an organized class leads to an organized mind. Starting today, don’t change seats anymore. At least in my class.” even though your soul leaves your body and you sit frozen, panicking about what it means

nerd!Sasuke who steps out after class like nothing happened, checking a message from Naruto, pausing only to glance sideways at you as you stammer out, “If you want, I could talk to the teacher and sit with someone else…”

nerd!Sasuke who shrugs, gives you a bland, “It’s fine. I don’t care,” and walks away like he didn’t just rip out your dignity with a single sentence—unaware that you’re left standing there, feeling humiliated and sweating.

nerd!Sasuke who said he didn’t care where he sat—but you still spent the next week avoiding that seat like it was cursed, convinced he definitely didn’t want you next to him

nerd!Sasuke who sat next to Sakura instead, and even though you told yourself it was fine, your stomach twisted every time you saw them—and not in the chill, friendly way.

nerd!Sasuke who caught you off guard the second you finally took your seat again—dropping your jacket, settling in before class and spoke first

“You wanted another seat partner that bad, I guess.”

nerd!Sasuke who couldn’t even hold eye contact after that, his voice suddenly quieter, like he didn’t mean for it to come out like that

“This week. You didn’t sit with me.”

nerd!Sasuke who looked at you with something unreadable in his eyes when you handed his pen back, and then—out of nowhere—asked:

“Did I do something wrong before?” “W-what? No. Why do you say that?”

nerd!Sasuke who had no idea how much that question short-circuited your brain, how hard you had to pretend to focus, how your pen started to shake while you scribbled nothing on your notebook

nerd!Sasuke who didn’t say another word—but leaned a little closer in the middle of the lesson, and without warning, reached up and gently pulled a leaf out of your hair like it was the most normal thing in the world

Your eyes followed his hand as your entire face turned to look at him. For a second, you lost control. Your gaze drifted from his perfect, arched brows that made you deeply jealous, to his jawline—sharp, defined, unfairly sculpted—and finally, for a breathless moment, to his lips. Too close to the left side of your face. The moment he removed the leaf, your eyes locked. You didn’t mean to look, but Sasuke instantly broke the contact, shifting back to his usual position. You murmured, “Thanks,” staring down at your desk, not noticing the faint red creeping onto Sasuke’s cheek. He tried to hide it with his hand, the other lazily scribbling down some irrelevant notes he’d probably cram the night before the test anyway.

nerd!Sasuke who starts acting weirdly different after that.

nerd!Sasuke who you suddenly catch reading in the library alone, glasses on, hoodie up, notebook filled with the cleanest handwriting you’ve ever seen

nerd!Sasuke who’s not just a genius—you discovered he’s a nerd—an actual, pencil-chewing, annotated margins, color-coded-index nerd.

Behavioral clusters and predictive modeling? Whatever that meant. The teacher said it like everyone should just get it, and apparently, everyone did. Everyone but you. You kept sneaking glances at the page, at your half-written notes, at the way Sasuke’s pen moved steadily beside you like he was fluent in this academic nonsense. You didn’t ask for help. Not because you were too proud. You just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He probably thought you were an idiot. Class ended. You gathered your things quickly, ready to bolt—but just as you stood up, you heard him behind you. “…You circled the wrong variable in the chart.” You turned, defensive. “Okay. Ouch.” Sasuke blinked, clearly thrown off. “I wasn’t— I mean, I didn’t say it like that.” You paused. His tone wasn’t mocking. Not even close. It was… careful. Quiet. Like he was afraid of being misunderstood. He stepped a little closer, reaching into his notebook. “Look. Here. It’s the second behavior in the pair, not the first. The context changes the influence.” He showed you a small diagram he’d redrawn, just like the one on the slide, but… cleaner. More detailed. Labeled.

nerd!Sasuke who voluntarily rewrote the class diagram because he was “bored,” then casually handed it to you like he wasn’t the academic equivalent of a secret vigilante

nerd!Sasuke who muttered, “It’s just notes,” like the diagram he gave you wasn’t a full-on dissertation in disguise

“…Did you just say you were bored and then voluntarily diagrammed the human psyche?”

“…Yes? It’s not… never mind.” You bit back a smile.

nerd!Sasuke who absolutely didn’t mean to sound so endearing when he awkwardly offered to send you the rest—tugging at his sleeve, blinking down like he was the nervous one this time.

And for the first time ever, Sasuke looked visibly embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck again, eyes flicking away. “I’m not trying to show off or whatever. You just looked… confused. That’s all.” There it was again—that clumsy softness he kept trying to hide. Not cold. Not arrogant. Just awkward. Deeply, painfully awkward. Your chest felt weirdly warm. “…Thanks,” you said, quieter this time. “That helps.” His fingers tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie. “I can send you the rest if you want.” You blinked. “Seriously?” He gave a tiny shrug. “It’s just notes.” But it wasn’t just notes. And you both knew it. He turned to go, like he always did—quiet exit, minimal eye contact—but this time, he hesitated. Just for a second. Then, over his shoulder: “You’re not dumb. You just learn different.” And he left. You stared after him, still holding his rewritten diagram in your hands.

nerd!Sasuke who starts showing little cracks in the armor—tiny habits you can’t stop noticing.

the pencil spinning the foot tucked under his chair the twitch of his fingers when he’s concentrating too hard

nerd!Sasuke who starts looking at you differently—quick glances, lingering eyes, the kind of stares that feel like he’s studying you, trying to figure out how you work

nerd!Sasuke who absolutely shuts down the second you call him out for his overachieving

“You don’t have to rewrite the entire lecture every time.”

“I’m not.”

“You literally have a color-coded system.”

“…It’s efficient.”

“It’s nerdy.”

Silence. Blink. Panic blush.

“You don’t have to say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Didn’t say it was bad. Just… kind of adorable.”

Internal Sasuke.exe has stopped working

Literally stopped breathing for half a second. Then he looked away so fast he nearly dropped his pen. “You’re not funny.” “Oh, I’m very funny,” you said, spinning in your chair just enough to bump his arm with your shoulder. He didn’t say anything. Just let out a quiet, nervous exhale through his nose. The blush on his cheek was criminal. And suddenly you were the one who couldn’t look at him.

nerd!Sasuke who coughs and mutters “I’m dropping the class” when you say you’re excited to watch him present

nerd!Sasuke who clearly did not account for you teasing him back—at all—and now has no idea how to handle it

Later that week, when the teacher mentioned an optional presentation for extra credit, you leaned over again and whispered, “Bet you’ve already started it.” Sasuke: immediate silence You: “Wait—oh my God. You HAVE.” He turned his head a fraction. “…It’s just an outline.” You smirked. “Of course it is.” Then you added, just to see what would happen: “Can’t wait to watch you present. You’ll do great. Very charismatic.” His ears went red. He coughed. Then muttered, “I’m dropping the class.”

nerd!Sasuke who finally breaks after all your teasing and hits you with one carefully-calculated emotional death sentence in the middle of the library

“You talk a lot when you’re flustered.”

“What?”

“It’s cute.”

nerd!Sasuke who goes right back to his screen after that like he didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb on your ability to function

nerd!Sasuke who doesn’t even deny it when you say, “You’re doing that thing again—pretending to read while you’re clearly just looking at the same sentence for five minutes.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Okay.”

He’s totally doing that.

nerd!Sasuke who watches you scribble through your last question, catches your sigh, and when you catch him staring again, just shrugs like it means nothing.

but you know it does.

nerd!Sasuke who quietly says:

“I like when you talk.”

nerd!Sasuke who tries to pretend he didn’t say that, except now his ears are red and he won’t meet your eyes.

He was reviewing something on his laptop—some obscure case study on social mimicry and behavioral tracking—and you leaned over with a grin. “You know this is why no one invites you to parties, right?” He didn’t even flinch. Just clicked to the next slide. “I don’t go to parties because I’d rather observe dysfunctional bonding rituals from a distance.” You laughed. “God, that’s so bleak.” He turned to you, finally meeting your eyes—and this time, there was something different there. The usual hesitation was gone. His voice was calm, a little too casual. “You talk a lot when you’re flustered.” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged, like it was just a random observation. “It’s cute.” Your brain short-circuited. No smile. No smirk. Just that unreadable face and the most casually delivered chaos sentence you’d ever received in your life. “I—I’m not flustered,” you stammered, immediately sounding flustered. He nodded like he believed you. He absolutely didn’t.

nerd!Sasuke who nearly forgets how to breathe when you stand in front of him.

Something about him felt different. Like the air between you had shifted. He was still that quiet, awkward, mystery-boy-in-a-hoodie—but his knees were angled slightly toward you. His fingers kept tapping the spine of his notebook. So you leaned in a little, just to see what he’d do. “You’re weird today,” you said. “I’m always weird.”

You smiled. “True. But today it’s weirder.” He huffed out a breath—almost a laugh, but not quite. “You’re imagining things.” You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “Are you imagining things?” You stared at him. Really stared. His cheeks were flushed. His fingers were gripping his pen like it owed him money. He was nervous. Which made you bold. You stood slowly, stepped around the desk until you were standing in front of him. He looked up, caught off guard. “You do realize I like you, right?” you said, tone light but clear. He froze. No blink, no breath. Just… still. “I’m not asking you to say anything,” you added. “I just… I feel like you don’t get it.” “I get it,” he said quietly. “Yeah?” Another beat.

nerd!Sasuke who answers so quietly it almost breaks you

“I just don’t know what to do with it.”

nerd!Sasuke who freezes when you kiss him—soft, brief, just once. he didn’t kiss you back right away. but leans in again when his hand brushes your wrist like he needs to.

nerd!Sasuke who pulls back and whispers, stunned:

“You kissed me.” “Yeah,” you said, trying not to smile. “You’re not imagining that, by the way.” He stared at you for another second.

“Okay. Cool.”

[untildawnss]

until dawn characters overhearing their partner saying something negative about them/their relationship

just a few short drabbles about the characters' weaknesses or worse traits and how they might react to hearing a partner talking about it. and wow, this actually took a while.

kind of angsty, but the endings of most of these are kind of open for interpretation

ashley

"i don't know, i just feel like we're stuck sometimes. we're not really doing anything. it's getting kind of boring."

ashley stopped dead in front of the door to your living room. she had wanted to spend a quiet evening at home with you, like you usually did on fridays but evidently you'd had other plans. and you obviously hadn't expected her to get home early. she flexed her hands, once, twice, and opened the door. the room went quiet, you and your friends looked at ashley. "babe, you're home." you smiled, not sure whether or not ashley had heard you. "sit down, i'm gonna get you a glass of wine." you patted the couch next to you. "no thanks. i think i'd rather go and be boring," ashley grabbed her laptop from the coffee table, "in the bedroom. alone."

beth

"seriously, her sister is over all the time. i know, i know they're twins and they're close and everything but i feel like aoutsider in my own relationship sometimes because she never says no to her family and i get the short end of the stick."

beth heard your voice drifting through the open window. you were on the patio, on the phone with your best friend while hanging out the laundry. beth was in your bedroom on the floor above, changing the sheets. are you fucking kidding me? beth sucked her teeth. she knew that you knew that she'd always been the most mature and stable of the washington siblings and that they were super close. "you know," she leaned out of the window. you looked up at her, startled. "you're my family, too. and i never say no to you." - "you heard that?" you groaned. "uh, yeah, me and like the entire neighbourhood. so what's wrong with me and hannah hanging out? it's only once a week." - "nothing, it'd just be nice to be included every once in a while." beth smiled widely at you. "aw, i didn't know you wanted to hang out with us. you should have told me."

chris

"he's always doing something on his phone, sending josh some stupid video or planning another dumbass prank with him. sometimes i think he stopped maturing past the age of 16."

you heard the front door close. apparently you had missed the jingling of chris' keys while you were busy looking for a salad bowl in the kitchen. "cool, didn't know you thought that way about me." chris dropped a plastic bag on your kitchen counter. "i brought dinner, got your favourite. thought i'd come over and we could hang out, maybe watch a movie or something. but it seems like you're busy." you had turned around to face him. "chris, i didn't mean it like that. i'm sorry." he was already on his way to the door. "no, you did." - "fine, maybe i did. but it doesn't mean that i don't love you. where are you going?" he was standing in the doorway, doing fingerguns at you. "josh's place. because i'm immature like that." the door closed and you pulled out your phone. can we talk about this? you walked back to the kitchen, the smell of your favourite food filling the room. thank you for dinner. - let's talk tomorrow, like adults?

emily

"emily wants this, emily wants that. emily gets what she wants, whenever she wants. it's all about her. i think she's her own favourite person in the world and everyone else are background characters for her enjoyment."

emily's phone pinged when she received the voice message. it was intended for your best friend but you had misclicked when opening the chat without realising it. she smiled when she saw your name on the screen and eagerly tapped on the little arrow to play the message. oh. the message wasn't for her. but you had thought of her alright. was she really that bad? her phone pinged again. don't listen to that. too late, she thought. i'm sorry, i didn't mean that. but you did, she knew. because she knew she was a bitch sometimes. because she knew that she had been selfish. no, you're right. she texted back. can i have a second chance?

hannah

"can you believe it? we had a fight and now she's packing her stuff to go sleep at her sister's place. she's blowing it out of proportion. talk about overreacting. everything is drama with her."

hannah had texted her siblings to come pick her up while she was throwing clothes and toiletries into a bag. whatever you were fighting about had escalated, both of you were to blame for that. but now you couldn't even wait until she was out of the house to talk shit about her? absolutely not. she knew she was sensitive but calling her dramatic was unfair. if she stayed, neither of you would sleep tonight. both of you needed to calm down. so naturally, hannah had called her twin sister and asked if she could stay with her for a few days. and naturally, beth had gotten in her car. the place was just too small for both of you to try to avoid each other after an argument. hannah was trying to give you space but sure, she was the one overreacting, not you in the living room, knowing full well that she could hear you. "you know what? if everything's drama with me, maybe i'll do you a favour and move out." hannah zipped up her bag and made her way to the front door. she heard a clatter as you dropped your phone. "what?" hannah was putting on her shoes now. "i said," she removed the butterfly keychain from her set of keys before putting them back. "i'm moving out. we're done." she walked out of the apartment and got into beth's car.

jess

"ugh, sometimes a part of me wants to shake her and ask her to just act like a normal human being. she's not perfect, so why does she pretend to be?"

last you checked jess was in the shower for her "self care day" ritual. that usually took a while, so you put in your earphones and called a friend while you were in the kitchen preparing dinner. you had jokingly complained that her long showers would drive up the water bill because she just had to keep up that image, that she was driving herself crazy competing with no one but her own ego. you hung up when you put the dish in the oven to clean up, maybe see if jess was done in the shower and have a pre-dinner glass of wine. you walked out of the kitchen and stepped right into a small puddle in the hall. ew, wet sock. "jess, can you leave the water in the shower next time?" you walked towards the bathroom and opened the door. jess was standing there in her underwear, a towel wrapped around her head and staring at her reflection. "hey. dinner's almost ready. you want a glass of wine?" she turned around to look at you. "do you think i'm vain?" her question took you by surprise. "what?" - "do you think i'm vain? i heard you talking about me and i want to know if you think i'm vain." she looked like she was about to cry. "jess, babe, no that wasn't what i meant. it's just- you try so hard all the time but you don't even need to. i love you just the way you are. you can be a little high maintenance, though." she sighed. "i know i'm not perfect-" - "you don't need to be." - "but can i still have that glass of wine?"

josh

"i feel like his caretaker sometimes. take your meds, take care of yourself, go to bed at a reasonable hour, don't drink too much, blah blah blah. i'm so over it. at one point he has to start living for himself and not just because everyone else bends over backwards for him."

you hung up the phone and turned up the TV's volume. when you went into the kitchen to get a drink, josh was there. "hey, when did you get home?" - "while ago," he shrugged. "why didn't you say anything?" you opened the fridge, looking for something you're in the mood for. water, or maybe some wine. "heard the TV, wasn't really in the mood for that." josh tapped his heel against the cupboard behind him. "okay. you want anything?" you pointed at the contents of the fridge. "wouldn't want to be a burden." he turned his head to look at you. "wouldn't want you bending over backwards to take care of me." he clenched his teeth. "yeah, i heard that, too." you let go of the fridge door and it closed slowly. "josh, i-" you started, trying to find something to say. "it's okay. i know i'm not always the easiest person to be around. but i'm trying, i'm getting better." you reached out to touch his hand but he pulled back. "i called chris. he's coming to pick me up." - "oh, okay. when are you coming back?" - "i don't think i should."

matt

"it's like matt doesn't even have any opinions of his own. he always just agrees with me. i don't think he has made a single decision in his life, ever."

it had been a week since matt had read your message. he had been using your laptop because he had forgotten his at home and your devices were connected. he hadn't planned on reading it but saw that it was about him. he hadn't even told his sisters or ashley about it and they were usually his go to people. maybe he was bad at making decisions. he hadn't decided how to handle this situation, anyway. yeah, you'd noticed that he had pulled away and asked him if something was wrong but he had made up an excuse about an assignment he had to turn in. he was still thinking about whether to ignore that he had seen the message or try to talk to you about it when you, once again, made a decision for him. his doorbell rang and when he opened the door, there you were, smiling at him. "hey, thought i'd come over. you're done with that assignment, right? can i come in?" maybe he'd finally make a decision. "actually, no. i don't think we should see each other anymore." your face dropped. "what? why? what happened?" - "guess i'm just making a decision for the first time in my life, ever. we're over."

mike

"he's such a fucking macho sometimes. i can literally not do anything without him swooping in and taking over because he thinks he's god's gift to humanity or something. right now he's putting up a shelf because he didn't think i could handle it. it's my place."

you were in your bedroom, sending a voice message to one of your friends. mike had finished putting up the shelf and was about to knock on your bedroom door to ask you if you wanted to grab something to eat when he realised you were talking about him. wow. guess you really needed to get that off your chest. he'd always thought he was just being helpful by offering to do stuff for you. was he really that overbearing? was he a macho? mike had always thought you were grateful when you accepted his help but maybe he'd misinterpreted the way you smiled at him earlier. it did look forced but he thought it was just the stress of moving. before he could move the door opened and you were face to face with him. "mike! were you eavesdropping?" - "not on purpose! but you were kind of yelling." he shrugged. "didn't realise you thought that i was such an ass. didn't realise i was being an ass." - "you're not an ass, just-" you started. "god's gift to humanity?" he said, pretending to fix an invisible halo. "i'm sorry, i promise i will stop swooping in and taking over and wait until you ask me for help. if you still want me."

sam

"we barely spend any time together. she's always doing something, hanging out with her friends, going climbing, running or swimming. are we even in a relationship anymore or just roommates? i don't even know where she is right now."

sam was right above you, watering the plants at the top of the stairs when you walked in. you were probably talking to a family member or a friend. about her. she wasn't sure if she should say something or not. she had continued watering the same plant while listening to your conversation and the water was overflowing now. it reached her feet and soaked through her sock. "crap." downstairs she heard you mutter a quick goodbye before you called through the house. "sam? are you home?" - "yeah, i'm here." she called back from the bathroom, looking for one of the ratty towels you used for spills. you had kicked off your shoes and were walking up the stairs. "don't move, i accidentally drowned gilbert." all the plants had names. sam emerged from the bathroom and threw the towel on the ground, swiping it around with her foot to wipe up the spill. "i didn't know you were home. did you, uh, hear me just now?" sam was staring at you. "yeah," she admitted. "i don't want us to be over. but i don't want to give up who i am, either." you nodded. "i know. compromise?" sam nodded back at you. "we can try."

[violetjedisylveon]

Shadowpeach Angst AU, where after Lady Bone Demon is defeated...

Macaque does something he's planned to do since being revived; create a special potion that will make him forget Wukong and anything connected to Wukong (including MK)...

Macaque writes letters to MK + Mei + Pigsy + Tang + Sandy, as well as Red Son and his family... in the letters, Macaque apologizes to them, says he's gonna take a memory-erasing potion and says goodbye... (Macaque uses his shadow powers to sneak the letters into their homes)...

Wukong's letter says: "Be happy Wukong, you will never see me again..."

Macaque drinks the potion and forgets everything related to Wukong (but Macaque still remembers that he's a warrior, he owns a dojo and he has shadow plays)...

How would Wukong and the Others feel about these letters?

How would Wukong and the Others feel about a Macaque (who doesn't remember them) happily greeting them? ☺️

Oh I know the perfect way to twist this.

Erasing his memory of Wukong and everything connected to him ends up leaving him with very few memories from after meeting him, because once that, he stuck by his side and everything that happened to him was influenced by Wukong's presence.

So much of him is gone.

Unintended side effects of not thinking shit through clearly, dumbass.

Nothing was going to take away his dramatic theatre kid ass, that's in his bones.

He knows he's a fighter, a wanderer and a shadow user.

He doesn't know why his eye is fucked up, he figures it has something to do with being a fighter, and possibly something to do with the gap in his memory.

Macaque basically has memory repression, and the thing with that is patients know something is missing, they aren't actively avoiding the memories (that's memory suppression), and so they sometimes want to find out what's missing.

Given that no one but MK or Wukong really knew Macaque that well, it's kind of a half hearted apology and dodging the consequences of his actions.

MK is confused cause macaque did try to kill him and was an asshole, but he's good now, why's he doing this?

Wukong is extremely conflicted because on the one hand, it means Macaque won't attack his student anymore, and he did kill him, even if that was self defense and now macaque can be happier, and while he knows they could never get back what they had, now they can never even try to address their issues because of a reckless decision Macaque made.

Oh how the turn tables

MK and the crew are pretty chill when macaque shows up at the noodle shop after a day of theatre work, at first they think he's acting until they actually see him get upset at the thought of having hurt a kid, and quickly backpedal on that to just be confusing him for someone else, of course he's welcome.

They are all quick to recognize that this isn't the same person anymore, the Macaque they knew is functionally dead, so why punish this guy.

Happy times for the monkey man!

Macaque is doing great all things considered, sure he's got a massive gap in his memory, but he has a feeling it's all very unpleasant and he's okay like this.

Wukong is having the bad time because Macaque effectively died twice, once by his hand, and then by removing any trace of him. He lost him twice, but he's also happier without any memories of him, because he lost the majority of his trauma and has been reset to a happier more optimistic outlook on the world.

Sad times for the monkey man.

Macaque also doesn't know he is THE Six Eared Macaque, he assumes he's just a relative, or maybe a reincarnation if you wanna get really out there. He can't be that old, he doesn't feel that old.

Macaque is doing great and doing good things for the people around him now that all the baggage of his life has been taken out, and there aren't any side effects expect from the occasional bout of existentialism.

So for Wukong, the question becomes whether he tries to undo the memory spell, or just lets Macaque be with his fresh start, and also questioning if he has any right to do anything because this is a choice Macaque made, and he's ignored his choices enough in his life.

And now, maybe he could try to work on things with his ex-mate

If he ever got his memories back through someone making that choice for him, he'd be pissed, but if he choses to remember for himself, it'd be better, cause he gets to make a choice and have Wukong respect it and listen to him.

interesting one, thanks for asking!