#and then today the muse decided 'actually yes it is'

[needlxd]

@bytepire: "maybe it's not okay right now. maybe it won't be for a while. whichever it is, i won't leave you."

when it gets hard || sentence starters.

there's a mix of uncertainty and wonder to k's optical display. her head even tilts to one side, &for a few moments she studies the other, as if trying to find any sign of deceit in either her actions or tone. not that she really expects that sort of thing out of uzi. she has n's rather complete trust, after all, and k trusts n entirely. which has earned her more than her fair share of lectures & unpleasant retaliations from j & even v at times, but not once has that trust wavered. which simply means she places her trust & faith in uzi as well.

still, hearing that she won't be left alone? that's a shock to the system, no matter who it comes from.

« i'm not leaving either. » it takes a few moments to get her bearings again, but k is able to make her signs confidently once she does. « i'm tired of... losing people, anyway. i'm sick of it, & everything the humans have done. so... i'm not leaving anyone behind again. that includes you― so don't you dare go counting yourself out from being one of us now. »

[pcetstcrtured]

here i am actually celebrating muses' birthdays since, i have all (of these guys') icons done + am actually online + just got the reminder on my phone so -

happy birthday to the twin boyos, our soft but sad golden boy & our loyal but complicated certified supergenius, noah owen grady & parker dylan grady!

& also happy birthday to mr. 'evil is not born, it's made (but so is good)', draco lucius malfoy!

[lovebugism]

istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.

i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.

from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3

hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.

Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.

You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 

“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”

“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”

“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”

“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw tightens. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”

He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”

“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.

Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.

He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.

Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”

—————

By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.

You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 

You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.

“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.

“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”

“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.

“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”

You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”

You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”

“By who?”

“Who do you think?”

He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”

You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.

“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”

“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.

“You’re so annoying.”

Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”

“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”

You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.

You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.

“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.

You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”

“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”

[astralis-ortus]

gummy bears

✱ college student!hj x gn!reader

— art school is hard—at least having a muse makes it a little easier.

w.count → 1.8k genre → fluff...? warning → mild cussing, as per usual♡ a.n → hi!! i'm back with a new face addition to the page! hahah honestly i thought it would be either minho or seungmin first but ngl hyunnie has been tugging on my hearstrings lately he's such a silly little mandu i love him sm :( hope you guys find the story as enjoyable as chris' side of the blog, and also if anyone is interested for a commission there are slots available still♡ ⋆ see masterlist

has it always been this… weird?

your attention should’ve been sealed at the projected slides once the professor started the countdown on his infamous ‘how-long-can-i-yap-before-my-students-fall-asleep’ course, but holy smokes—even breathing seemed like a major task when you could barely peel your thoughts off the boy sitting a few rows in front of you.

hyunjin has always been the main attention-grabber wherever he went—and that includes yours.

it’s not like you denying it either. he is gorgeous, and even the heavens know you couldn’t help but glance in his direction whenever he’s in the room. hell, even a few of your initial sketches for last semester’s projects were inspired by hyunjin. it’s as if he had slowly solidified his spot as your muse—but what is this odd feeling gently fluttering between the rows of your ribcage?

a buzz from the pocket of your pants startled you out of your trance, and while you thanked the gods for sending you down here with a habit of putting your phone on constant silent, you peeked at the notification patiently perched on the screen of your phone—one nearly causing you a minor heart attack on the spot.

hyunjin: spot next to me is empty, you know

right—you forgot your position from a mere classmate-slash-secret-admirer has been upgraded to an actual acquaintance-slash-almost-friends of hyunjin’s, all thanks to that one final project from art history 101 class last semester.

you: being at the back is peaceful, thanks hyunjin: says the one who rushed for a front spot for literally any other class lol hyunjin: cmon, saved the spot for you

lord—now you’re genuinely glad you decided to wear that crusty baseball cap of yours today, or literally everyone would’ve noticed the way your cheeks had burned up into a bright shade of crimson.

you: geez hyunjin: cmoooon hyunjin: or i’ll literally ask mr. kang to move you here

the way your head snapped to find hyunjin’s playful yet determined gaze headed straight at you was not something you would’ve ever thought to add to your bingo board.

ever.

you: no you won’t hyunjin: try me

your eyes nearly doubled in size when you returned your line of sight in hyunjin’s direction, only to see the slow, comical way the long-haired guy is raising his hand while keeping his eyes on you, lips tipped up into a masked grin.

“yes, mr. hwang?”

fuck.

you scrambled on your phone while mr. kang—as well as the rest of the attendees of the class, fixed their eyes on hyunjin, quietly wondering what would come out of those lips of his.

“oh, i’m just wondering if—"

you: FINE I’M MOVING you: JUST SHUT UP you: PLEASE

And you swore you could see the way his lips turned into a victorious grin through the back of his head.

“if?” mr. kang repeated, seemingly a little impatient at hyunjin’s antics. to be fair, you actually felt the same way.

“if you have any movie or documentaries related to the topics you will be teaching this semester,” hyunjin’s voice rang loud and clear—as if the question had been his initial motive all along, and you’re simply a victim of his little magic trick.

“personally i do learn better through those mediums, mr. kang,” hyunjin perfected his question, smile as innocent as a puppy, and as he looked around the hall, scanning the dozens of nodding heads to his statement,

hyunjin made sure to lock eyes with you for a second longer.

“and i think my friends agree with me.”

“you’re an ass,” you hissed as soon as you secured the seat next to hyunjin, shooting daggers out of your eyes while the latter chuckled. given, hyunjin’s question did made your move less suspicious since mr. kang actually took a liking to the idea and decided to substitute one of the assignments into this movie presentation group project, but still—you were so close to losing your dignity in front of dozens of your peers, on the first day of the new semester.

“would’ve been easier had you listened the first time,” he playfully retorted, remnants of victory still glimmered in his eyes, “and now you know i’m a man of my words. win-win situation for both of us.”

“as if,” you groaned in annoyance despite failing to even make a dent to hyunjin’s victorious grin. “you are the only one benefiting from this, mr. hwang. i’m merely a victim in this scheme of yours.”

“ouch—mr. hwang? really now?” hyunjin placed a hand over his heart, pretending as if he has been shot despite the wicked smile plastered across his face, “do you really want to hurt me like that?”

if you were to be honest, you do enjoy your playful bickers with hyunjin. it made him less of a muse and more of a… human. a regular college boy, who just so happened to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself and sent here with an exceptional heart of gold.

like he’s just a boy.

“seemed fair enough,” instead, you replied with a mischievous grin while greeting a couple of hyunjin’s friends joining your little group.

“1-1, mr. hwang.”

the massive numbers displayed on your phone screen further validates the exhaustion you felt looming over your shoulders. it’s only the first week of the new semester and you’re already held up on campus way past your classes—how are you supposed to survive the rest of the school year?

to be fair, you really do love what you’re studying right now. it’s what you’ve always wanted to be since you were a child, and to be able to live out your inner child’s dream is one of your prides—but god, it did not make things easier to actually do.

just as you slipped your screen away, sparing yourself from a bunch of exhausting thoughts as your footsteps led you to your bus stop, a pack of gummy bear suddenly popped out of thin air in front of your eyes, causing you to stumble backwards onto the—

warm surface?

“i’m not a gummy sharing type of person, but i think you need this more than i do.”

pushing yourself off the other’s figure, you didn’t need to turn around to figure out the person’s identity—but you did anyway.

“gee, thanks mr. hwang,” you playfully snickered, snatching the bag of gummy and popped one unfortunate strawberry flavored bear in your mouth, “didn’t know you’re so kind.”

over the past week, you found out that you surprisingly have quite a lot of classes together with hyunjin and a few of his friends. you’re thankful he dropped the ‘i saved you a seat’ act by the third class you shared and let you actually sit amongst your friends, but in ways you don’t even understand, you somehow kept getting sorted in the same groups as hyunjin. well, at least now you no longer freeze up while hyunjin’s around.

“oh, can you drop that already,” hyunjin groaned, lips pursing into a subtle pout, “the others are starting to call me mr. hwang too thanks to you, you know.”

you couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip past your lips to hyunjin’s protest, already with a picture in your head about the whining he would’ve done once his closest friends started to pick up hyunjin’s objection to the nickname and used the name against him. how adorable he would’ve—

wait.

adorable?

hyunjin’s supposed to be simply your muse—maybe a fried at best! you don’t call your friends adorable, do you?

“you started it!” shaking your head in an attempt to rid the word from the nooks and crannies of your brain, you instead defended yourself while offering hyunjin the pack of gummies at the same time.

“what do you mean i started it!” hyunjin groaned, still popping a gummy in his mouth in the process, “i was just simply requesting your presence at the spot I have reserved for you!”

“and threatened to embarrass me if i didn’t move!” you deflected, playfully glaring at the latter. “don’t you dare omit that part, you sneaky weasel! i thought I was going to have to drop the class due to embarrassment!”

the crease between hyunjin’s brows grew thicker when he realized he couldn’t counter your protest, resulting in another pout to form on his lips, now clearer than before. it made you feel a little guilty—did you go a little too far? was he offended by the—

“i just wanted to get closer to you.”

…wait.

wait—what?

“i know it’s a lame excuse,” hyunjin’s groans turn muffled as he hid his face behind the palms of his hands, “it’s just—i don’t know, i find you fun? i know we just started talking after that group project but i like talking about stuff with you and even after the group project ended i just kept finding myself wanting to talk to you? i just—”

“whoa whoa—slow down!” you instinctively grabbed hyunjin’s shoulders; not too hard to shake him off, just enough to gently ground him back from his rambles. “breathe, you don’t need to explain anything to me, hyunjin. just breathe.”

well, frankly you do need an explanation—just… not from this adorably frantic hyunjin.

no, scratch that—just frantic.

not adorably.

just frantic.

hyunjin’s face was nearly the shade of the gummy bear packet you still had on your hand, and as much as you didn’t want to embarrass him more than he’s already feeling, your lips seemed to have their own plans when they curled up into a grin.

“don’t even say anything,” he warned, fingers now pointing at the rapidly growing grin on your face. “just don’t.”

you would honestly love to comply to hyunjin’s wishes, really—after all, you’re the type to honor and respect your friend’s wishes…

but is he just a friend?

“I’m not!” you stated, but despite throwing your hands up in a sign of defeat, hyunjin knew better when he noticed the constant degree of smile etched across your face,

“I just never would have thought that the campus crush,” you emphasized, trails of laughter already slipping past your lips in harmony to hyunjin’s exasperated sigh, “the mr. hwang hyunjin himself, is quite clumsy at making new friends.”

hyunjin was genuinely dumbfounded at your accusation.

“no i’m not!” he protested, subconsciously following your footstep as you got ready to catch your nearing bus, “it’s not that i’m bad at making friends, i just—”

hyunjin’s explanation were cut short when your bus finally arrived, prompting another frown to appear on his face when you hopped on without sparing him another glance. dejected, hyunjin turned around and—

“hyunjin!”

the speed at how quickly hyunjin turned on his heels at your voice nearly made you giggle. from one of the opened windows from the back of the bus, you locked eyes with hyunjin and smiled.

“text me your excuses and we’ll see if you’re actually good at making friends!” you shouted as the bus began to drove away, only allowing you to witness a faint ‘okay!’ along with an excited wave before hyunjin disappeared behind the curve of the crossroad.

well, maybe hyunjin is adorable after all.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[aperrywilliams]

I'm Sorry I Couldn't be Here for You Sooner (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You have one of the worst days in a long time at work. When Spencer returns from an assignment to the BAU and sees your current state, he must do something.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Frustration/Hurt/Comfort. Just a self-indulgent rant. A lot of cuss words. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world.

A/N: I just need Spencer to hold me now.

-----

The clock ticks and ticks, but the time seems to stand still. Even if you don't know how long you have been looking at that piece of wood, plastic, and metal, it feels like an eternity.

In the distance, a voice keeps throwing out words and sentences to which you should pay attention. However, even if you tried, looking at the clock on the wall is still more interesting than hearing Hotch talking about new protocols for field agents.

Still lost in your head, you don't notice the meeting is over and people are starting to leave the room. Only when someone squeezes your forearm. It's JJ.

"Are you okay?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed. You look at her and blink a few times.

"Uh- yeah," you mumble. 

Are you okay? No, you're not. But why bother others with that?

On second thought, this may be a chance to spill what's on your mind. JJ is usually a forthcoming and wise person. 

"Well, actually-" you begin, but before saying anything else, JJ cuts you off.

"That's nice. Because I want to ask you if you can babysit Henry tomorrow night. Will invited me to a romantic dinner, and our babysitter is sick. Hope it doesn't make much trouble to you?" the blonde probes.

Okay, you didn't expect that.

Not in the mood to turn the subject back to you, you say yes, and after thanking you, JJ quickly leaves the conference room. Alone with your thoughts for a few seconds, you wonder if the tightness in your chest isn't an exaggeration. You decide to forget about it and go back to your desk.

Opening a folder with the information on the last case, you are ready to write your report. But not too so far on it, Emily approaches you.

"Hey, how are you?"

You have doubts about how to answer the question. A few minutes ago, when JJ asked, you lied to her, and she didn't even notice. Maybe it's good to be honest.

"Actually, not so good," you sigh. And Emily raises an eyebrow. 

"Yeah? What happened?"

"I just don't know, I don't feel good," you try to explain. But you're not sure how to do it either.

"I'm sure it's something you can manage," Emily muses. "Look, whatever it is, have a drink when you get home today, relax a little, and I bet you'll be as good as new tomorrow!"

You open and close your mouth several times, trying to get a word out, but nothing comes to mind. 

A drink and relax? Is that simple?

You let out a hum, and that's enough for a response to Emily.

After wishing you good luck, she heads down the hallway, presumably to Garcia's office.

It's clear that Emily didn't grasp your actual emotional state, but you don't blame her either.

The last case was hard for everyone, so there is no reason to take it personally.

Focusing on your report again, you expect the sour mood surrounding you to fade eventually.

To finish your paperwork, you need to make copies of the reports. So you get up and head to the copy machine. After carefully placing the papers in the tray, you press the start button. When you think it will start copying, the machine stops mid-scan. You frown, and after a few seconds of nothing, you press the 'start' button again. Nothing. You do it again. And again. It's not working, and you feel your blood running hot.

By pressing the button again and again, anger comes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid fucking machine!"

It's not enough to swat with force the button panel; now you're kicking the machine out of pent-up frustration.

"Whoa, whoa, stop right there, pretty girl."

Morgan steps between you and the machine, putting distance with his palms. And that's when you realize your outburst. Panting and still with the heat of rage on your cheeks, you are not yet satisfied.

"What the fuck, Morgan. Now you're defending a fucking copy machine?!" You hiss. Derek narrows his eyes to assess your current state. He's seen you mad, but it usually goes away easily. You are not a dense person.

"Okay, what's wrong, pretty girl? Since when do you unleash your frustration with pretty boy on inanimate things?"

Pretty boy. Spencer. Your boyfriend. Today, your boyfriend is conducting a cognitive interview with a convict in a DC jail—Hotch's orders. You wish he were here.

Morgan knows you usually laugh at his jokes, and even when you are in a bad temper, they help to light the mood.

Not this time, though.

"Don't talk about Spencer or me like that!" You snarl. "He doesn't have to do with any of this!"

Morgan doesn't like you are talking to him. Folding his arms over his chest, he let out an unamused scoff.

"Come on, don't you think you're overreacting here? Was this whole outburst only for a joke? What, are you four years old?"

You want to keep yelling, but a lump forms in your throat that is making it difficult for you to speak or even breathe. Morgan doesn't even wait for you to say something.

"You know what?" Morgan continues. "If you cannot stand the pressure of this job right now, maybe you should go home."

With that said and shaking his head in disappointment, Dereks leaves you there.

Stumped. Frustrated. Broken.

All the anger from moments before turns into an almost uncontrollable urge to cry. What have you done to these people? They are supposed to be your friends, your family. They are supposed to understand you and support you when you need them. And now that it's the time, they've only ignored you, minimized your problems, and even questioned your worth. Maybe Derek is right, and you should go home.

Defeated, you're strolling to your desk when Hotch peaks out of his office and gestures you to come.

Great, just what you needed now.

When you walk into your boss's office, he is already sitting in his chair, sternly looking at you.

"I won't ask you what's wrong with you today because it's your private life. However, I must remind you we are all professionals on this team. If you need time off, you have the right to get it, but I will not tolerate disrespect, like when you are distracted as I give fundamental instructions. If you don't pay attention, it could affect your work in the field and even put the lives of innocent people at risk."

If you didn't feel trampled before, now you feel like a ton of dirt was dumped on you.

You know Hotch can be sharp with words, but his ultimate goal is always to look after the team. But why does it feel like you're not part of that team right now?

"Do I make myself clear?"

With no more energy left in your body, you just let out a 'yes, sir.' Without waiting for another response, he sends you back to your desk.

It's already noon when you resume your work. Your mind spins at a mile an hour, and although it's hard, you force yourself to concentrate enough to get your job done, so at least the salary they pay you is worth it. 

Like a mollusk in its shell, you close yourself in that bubble and stop paying attention to your surroundings. It's your safe place—only you. 

In the distance, you feel your coworkers come and go. Never do you look up. Time goes by, and your throat feels dry from not speaking for hours.

Before everyone starts planning lunch, you are already picking up your lunch bag.

Social interaction is out of the table, so you are secluded in the building roof where an improvisated garden has benches. You sit alone, and the breeze helps to steady your breathing. As you open your Tupperware, you tentatively plunge the fork into the almost-cold pasta.

Even so, you're better here than in the bullpen minutes ago.

-----

Spencer walks through the doors of the BAU. It's 2 in the afternoon, so hopefully, the team is still having lunch in the conference room. Slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to reach you when he wanted to let you know he was on his way, he assumed that you had a lot of work and that your phone was mute.

Arriving at the conference room, Spencer scans the place and immediately catches something odd. You are not there. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch are, though.

With an eyebrow furrowed, he asks, "Where is she?"

His teammates perk their heads up.

"Hello to you, pretty boy," Morgan teases.

"How was the interview?" JJ asks.

"Did you eat? You still can sit with us," Prentiss offers.

"Did you get the interview done?" Hotch asks with a raised eyebrow.

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling about what's going on. He knows you weren't feeling so okay this morning, and even if he tried to convince you to take a sick day, you didn't let him.

"Neither of you responded my question," Spencer points, voice harsher than when he asked first.

"(Y/N)? I thought she went home," Morgan muses.

"Why would she do that?" Spencer questions, alarmed. "Something bad happened?"

"She said she was okay when I asked earlier," JJ explains. "Maybe she has an errand to do."

"She was way distracted when we were at the meeting in the morning. She didn't listen a thing of what I said," Hotch adds.

"And you sent her home?" Spencer directs his question to Hotch.

"No, I didn't. She didn't ask it either when I called her to my office."

"You called her to your office? Did you reprimand her?" Spencer asks in disbelief.

"Of course, I did it, Reid. She did something disrespectful to the team," Hotch defends.

"And considering her rage moment directed to the copy machine, maybe it's better if she went home," Morgan supplies.

"Why are you being so dramatic, Reid?" Emily questions, very confused about why Spencer is so upset.

Spencer huffs, frustration running in his veins.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Did you ever realize she wasn't doing okay and nobody took her seriously? Yeah, sure, she said she was okay, but did you really check on her? Did you really ask her what was wrong? Did someone listen to her?"

The people in the room go silent after Spencer scolds them. 

Did they help in any way?

"You are unbelievable, and you call yourself profilers," Spencer huffs, turning to exit the room in search of you.

"What are you doing, Reid?" Hotch asks. No turning around to face his boss, and halfway out, Spencer replies.

"The thing you should have done in the first place. And I don't care if it doesn't fall protocol, I can give you my resignation letter tomorrow."

-----

When Spencer reaches the building roof and sees you sitting on one of the benches, he lets out a sigh of relief. He suspected you might be there, considering your things were still on your desk.

You can't see it since your back is turned. Your eyes look at the horizon without focusing on anything in particular.

The breeze is nice despite the November weather in Virginia.

Not wanting to scare you, Spencer slowly approaches you as he clears his throat. You turn around and see him standing a couple of meters away from you, but close enough to see your eyes red from crying.

You know he noticed it, and you avert his gaze.

You don't like the idea of ​​looking vulnerable right now. The morning was already catastrophic enough to explain your current state of mind to Spencer.

Spencer is a man of many words. He is known for his diatribes on any topic at hand. So you expect some kind of rant or even some statistical data about what could be happening to you.

But contradicting his very nature, he just silently approaches, takes your hand to get you up from the bench, and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace.

And for the first time all day, you feel like you can actually breathe, and your chest isn't tight anymore. Words are not necessary; just being held like that is enough for now.

Spencer kisses the top of your head lovingly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you sooner. I'm sorry you had such a horrible morning," your boyfriend laments.

You shake your head, still buried in his chest.

Tears fight to come out from the corners of your eyes, and you no longer want to hold them back.

"Let it out, baby. Just let them out."

And that's what you do. For the first time all day, you allow yourself to cry without holding back. Spencer has you the entire time, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I don't know why I feel so bad, Spencer. I don't understand," you muffle your words into his embrace.

"It's okay, love. You don't have to explain to me, or anyone for that matter. There are days when we are not okay, and it's completely valid. Never think you don't have the right to."

Hearing Spencer say that relieves some of the pressure on your head, but you can't help but think about your teammates' words throughout the morning.

Separating yourself from Spencer to look at him, your eyes still denote your inner struggle.

"What if they are right? What if they are right when they say I shouldn't make so much fuzz and rather think about doing my job well?"

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.

"They are not. Okay? By any means, you are the most professional person I have ever met in my life. Not only that, you are also the most compassionate, selfless, and willing to help to the fullest extent of your capacity. Does JJ need help babysitting Henry? You don't think twice. Does García need assistance organizing a girls' night? You are the first one to be there. Does Hotch need to finish a stack of reports in one night? You offer to help him. Does Derek need a backup to kick his way into a place and catch the unsub? You're the first to watch his back."

You are indeed like that, and you do all that. But you've never seen it as something extraordinary. For you, being part of a team and a family means all that and more.

"And that doesn't even scratch the surface of what you have been to me.

My love, you have been the person who has entitled me to open my heart and love without reservation. You have taught me to trust and that asking for help when you feel bad is okay. You are the light of my life, and I swear I'll do everything in my power so you can see the wonderful person you are and that you deserve all the love and support in the world."

Without a doubt, Spencer has something with his words and eloquence. How can you not believe him? The veil of doubt indeed emerges from time to time, but having someone who is by your side showing you what is really important makes the doubts not cloud your path.

A shy smile appears on your face, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"There she is," Spencer whispers, stroking your cheek with love and never breaking eye contact.

"Maybe I should have listened to you this morning and called in sick," you sigh. Spencer kisses the top of your nose.

"I know you weren't going to do it anyway." 

You giggle because he's right. Spencer knows you too well.

"Lunchtime is almost over. We should come back to work," you remind him. Spencer pulls a face, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that?" You inquire.

Spencer laughs nervously. "It's just I may or may not have made a scene in the conference room earlier, and I may or may not have offered my letter of resignation to Hotch if he didn't allow me to come find you."

"You did what? Spencer, oh my God!" you start laughing. "Does that mean there's a chance we'll both get fired today?"

Spencer thinks about that for a second.

"Honestly? I don't think Hotch would risk losing his two best agents," he decides, winking at you.

"Hope you're right, Dr. Reid. Hope you're right," you voice, grabbing his hand in yours and making the way back to the sixth floor.

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[devildom-moss]

Signs of Affection (kiss)

Part 2 of this request (Lucifer, Leviathan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon)

(Mammon x gn!MC) (Satan x gn!MC) (Asmodeus x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC) (Solomon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,100 (we aren't going to talk about the size difference between these shorts okay?)

Mammon

“Geez, that sucked. Two hours of silent studyin’ for an F? I got a different F for that guy: a big ‘fuck you,’” Mammon grumbled to himself with his hands folded behind his head as he walked out of his mandatory extra lessons – or rather, they could have been classified as lessons if he had actually learned anything. Instead, Mammon spent the first 5 minutes trying to read one paragraph four times and the next 3 minutes trying to read the following paragraph before he became acutely aware that the supervising professor for today was watching him. He was clearly disappointed and judgmental of Mammon’s ongoing failure to turn the page. For the rest of his lesson, Mammon alternated between daydreaming about you – twisting your image in his head into a variety of different scenarios from innocent dates to the most depraved acts – and counting how many times he could spot the first letter of your name on the page. At least with the latter, it looked like he was reading.

“Mammon! How was delinquent rehab?” you teased him from your spot on the bench outside of the class.

Mammon shrieked and jumped. “W-what the fuck are ya doin’ here?!”

“MAMMON!” The supervisor poked his head out of the door. “Stop yelling in the hall and go home before I decide to keep you for another hour.”

“Sorry, that was my fault, Professor Amy. I startled him.” You stood up and bowed slightly, hoping the astronomy – and somehow, simultaneously, art – professor would go easy on Mammon if you took the heat.

“Oh, it’s you.” You were right to hope; Amy’s tone instantly softened. “If you’re on your way home, please take this loudmouth with you.”

“Who ya callin’ a loudmouth, man?” Mammon growled. You cupped your hand over his mouth; better late than never.

“Yes, I’ll be on my way now. I was just waiting for Mammon to finish his lessons.”

“Does being an idiot pay off after all?” Amy mused aloud – mostly to annoy the muzzled Mammon. “Very well. Be safe on your way home.”

“Alright, thank you, sir.” You smiled at him and began to drag Mammon down the hall. You only uncovered his mouth once the professor had gone back inside, and you were safely out of earshot.

“’Thank you, sir,’” Mammon mocked you. “Fuck was all that? You ain’t fuckin’ that teacher now are ya?”

“No, you pervert. It’s called being polite. You’d probably get in less trouble if you tried it with a few of your professors.”

“What’cha doin’ bein’ all polite to him for, anyway? Guy’s not even a good teacher, and he clearly has a human kink. Just stay away from him.”

“I almost never talk to him outside of our classes.” You rolled your eyes at Mammon. His jealousy had been excessive recently. As a slight punishment, you decided to tease him. “And why do you know so much about human kinks that you can recognize it in someone else?”

“Shuddup. It ain’t like that!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t have a human kink or nothing,” Mammon yelled. His cheeks burned, and he blurted out, “it’s only you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” you teased, biting back your smile.

“I didn’t say shit. Forget it.” Mammon crossed his arms as he picked up his speed just enough to walk ahead of you, hoping to avoid showing you the blush that stained his face.

“Okay, Mammon.” You dropped it, allowing him a bit of his dignity.

You both walked in silence for a minute until, finally, Mammon slowed down and started to walk beside you again. His blush had calmed. He glanced to the side briefly, trying not to draw your attention, but you noticed and smiled at him. Why do ya always look so cute ‘n happy when you’re walkin’ home with me, huh? What gives? Mammon wondered. If something as simple as walking home could make you smile like that, you were going to start charming demons left and right, and Mammon had no intention of sharing any more of you than he had to. That’s why he was so annoyed by you being nice to that professor. Just thinking about the way that demon’s face softened around you was pissing him off.

Suddenly, Mammon remembered what you had said, and his cheeks reignited in a faint blush. Nervous and masking his shyness with aggression, Mammon asked, “Hey, were ya serious about that back there – about just waitin’ for me to get out?”

“Yeah, of course I was.”

“For real? Ya waited two whole hours?”

“For my favorite hole? Yeah.” You smirked.

“Shuddup!” Mammon’s face burned. “Now who’s bein’ a perv?!”

“At least we’re even.” You smiled sweetly, as if you hadn’t just said something so vulgar – on a public street, no less.

Mammon stopped in his tracks, confidence surging in him. You stopped and looked back, confused. He grinned. “Ya must really love the Great Mammon, huh?”

“Sure do,” you readily agreed.

“I knew it!” Mammon pronounced – as if the occasional doubt had never wandered into his head. While he still had the courage to act, Mammon grabbed the sides of your face and quickly placed a kiss on your cheek. He whispered in your ear, “Thanks for bein’ so sweet to me, MC.”

Before you could register what had just happened, Mammon took off running towards the House of Lamentation. He pulled out his phone, skillfully dodging random obstacles and other demons as he appeared to start typing something. Seconds later, your D.D.D. buzzed.

Mammon: First one home gets a real kiss from the loser. Deal?

You laughed and stared down the street, watching as Mammon increased the distance between you. There was no way you were going to catch up to him.

MC: Deal. 💛

Satan

Satan was utterly thrilled when he found out the library had finally received the book that he requested two months ago. He insisted upon checking it out immediately after class, and since you had studying to do anyway, you went along with him.

With his new book acquired, Satan joined you at the small table you had settled into and began to read. However, his attention’s lifespan was uncharacteristically short despite his initial excitement. Satan’s eyes wandered away from the page, drifting up to you. Each time he tried to refocus on the book, his gaze punished him for a failure to indulge himself by lingering on you.

Few things enticed Satan more than you – especially when you got that serious look on your face. He had tried to keep reading too many times to keep track of, and now he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from you again. So, he just sat there, watching you read over your notes, recopying the most relevant points on a fresh sheet of paper. You were being so diligent.

One of the awful things about demons is that the alarm bells that go off in your head when you think someone is watching you are stronger and scarier when that someone is a powerful demon – and the fear your innate human senses created under the predatory gaze of a demon like Satan, whose sin was a destructive and devastating wrath, was intense. It sent a shiver up your spine, and when you looked up to find Satan’s eyes locked on your face, you jumped in your seat slightly. He didn’t need to look so hungry.

“Please stop staring, Satan.” You looked away, trying to turn your attention back to your studies.

“You don't want me to stare at you?” Satan got out of his seat across the table and took the spot right next to you. He propped his chin up in his hand and stared at you up close, eyeing you up and down with a smug grin on his face. “I want to. What's the problem?"

“It’s a bit distracting to have your eyes on me.” That was at least mostly true. There was no need to mention he was also turning you on in public. “I’d rather you not just stare at me.”

“Is that all?” Satan laughed. “You don’t want me to just stare? Very well.”

Satan leaned in, slowly shutting his eyes, and kissed your cheek. His warm lips lingered on your skin and his hot breath tickled. You could feel another chill run up your spine when his eyes fluttered back open. Even when he pulled back, his mouth hovered just over your cheek.

Another set of eyes landed on you. From a few aisles away, another library regular was stunned in their spot, mortified to have witnessed the Avatar of Wrath kissing a human in the library – not that they hadn’t seen worse. They gave you an awkward wave before turning and walking in the opposite direction, abandoning the book they had been searching for.

“Satan,” you chided him.

“What?” Satan hummed, inching closer to your ear, and whispered, “Do you still want more?”

“Someone saw.” You felt a bit guilty about it, too. Their embarrassment matched yours; in fact, it may have been even worse. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I wanted to. And who cares if someone saw? What are they going to do about a kiss on the cheek? It’s fine.” Satan placed another kiss on your cheek before returning to whisper seductively in your ear, “Besides, we’ve done worse. Don’t act so shy and innocent now. Do you need a reminder of all the things we’ve done – or perhaps you’d prefer a physical demonstration?”

What did you do to deserve this? You were just trying to study.

Asmodeus

“You weren’t waiting too long for moi, were you?” Asmo rushed to the table that you had grabbed when you arrived. He had a grin on his lips, but that charming smile was a cover for the guilt and anxiety he felt about being fifteen minutes late for your date. He couldn’t figure out which pair of socks to wear to complement his boots and skirt – and in the end, he just ended up pulling on a pair of lace stockings. Usually, Asmo didn’t care if he was a little late, but the idea of leaving you all alone in a demon-infested night café didn’t sit well with him.

“I would have happily waited much longer – especially when you show up, looking this cute.” You smiled at him sweetly, and every inch of Asmo’s body burned.

“Ooh, you little charmer.” Asmo giggled. “Did you order yet?”

“Of course not; I wanted to wait for you.”

“Such an obedient human,” Asmo teased, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his hand. He stared at you affectionately.

“I’ve never been called that in my life.” You laughed, and that only made Asmo happier to have said it.

“Want me to go up and order? Just tell me what you want – other than me, of course.” Asmo got to his feet and waited patiently for you to relay your order. With a smile and a wink, Asmo booped your nose. “Excellent. Now make sure to enjoy the view.”

Before you could question him, Asmo spun around and walked toward the register. Each step was a deliberate effort to draw your attention to his legs and ass. Oh. That view. Asmo was a hopeless flirt, but he was awfully sweet, too. Besides, you couldn’t deny that it was a good view.

Unfortunately, as Asmo returned from placing the order, he was faced with the irritating realization that he was not the only view in the café. He caught a handful of demons leering at you – and one of them appeared to be approaching. Not on Asmo’s expensive, crystal watch. He hurried back to the table just in time to cut off the tall demon, placing his delicate hand over your shoulder possessively. With a haunting smile, Asmo stared them down. He announced – more to the other demon than to you, “I’m back, hun. Did you miss me?”

A shiver ran up the demon’s spine, and their eyes went wide. They weren’t about to square up with Asmodeus over a human – not after all the rumors they had heard about bloodlust being stronger in lust demons than those ruled by wrath. The demon awkwardly tried to escape by blurting out, “enjoy your date.”

The demon scurried away quickly, and you looked up at Asmo just in time for his menacing aura to dissipate. “That was weird, right?”

“Some people just can’t act right around cuties.” Asmo dismissed your worry with a lighthearted laugh.

“So, you get that a lot?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t mean me.” Asmo leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re so cute it’s drawing attention.”

“I’m not as cute as you, though.” You smiled. “Now, sit down with me.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could snap a few pictures first. Do you mind?”

“Sure, I guess.” You shrugged and started to stand, but Asmo used his hand that was still resting on your shoulder to push you back down into your seat.

“No need to get up,” Asmo cooed. He took a step back and leaned over your chair so he could get right next to your face and drape his arms over you. “This position is perfect.”

Asmo snapped a few pictures. With each one, he seemed to get closer until his cheek was pressed to yours affectionately. He asked you to make a half heart with your hand and completed it with his own. Then, catching you off guard, Asmo kissed your cheek tenderly, waiting a few seconds before finally snapping a picture. He immediately pulled his phone back and stood up to discreetly examine the photo. The shit-eating grin on his face spoke for itself. He was all too pleased with it.

“What was that?” You scoffed. You probably should have anticipated that level of physical affection from Asmo, but sometimes, he still surprised you.

“Hmm? Isn’t it obvious?” Asmo looked down at you, innocently tilting his head. “I had to mark my territory.”

“What?” Your eyes widened. Sure, Asmo was always teasing you and flirting, but you hadn’t quite expected that answer. Asmo giggled and bent over, getting indecently close to your neck.

“I had to mark you,” he repeated in a low, seductive tone. “Would you rather I leave a hickey on your neck right now instead? I’d be happy to.”

“Just be a good boy and sit down.” You sighed. It wasn’t that embarrassing, but all you could do was imagine Lucifer’s voice scolding you for indulging Asmo too much in public.

“Ooh, I do want to be your good boy. Okay.” Asmo grinned, biting back the urge to call you one of a myriad of unacceptable titles, and returned to his seat across from you. He pulled his phone out and started messing with it. “See, I’m behaving.”

You laughed. Something told you that he was not, in fact, behaving. It only took a few minutes of mindless chatting while he continued tapping away at his phone – a habit you were so accustomed to that it usually didn’t strike you as rude – for your suspicion to be confirmed.

Your D.D.D. buzzed with an alert from Asmo’s Devilgram. He posted the picture of him kissing your cheek with a pink heart emoji covering your face – for the sake of your privacy. That was decent of him. You smiled softly, certain that Asmo was watching you. It already had over 6k likes by the time you scrolled down to read the caption: Ugh. My date is so cute that they’re attracting all sorts of attention. No one else deserves to see that cute face tonight but moi~ What do you think, everyone, should I mark them for myself?  

Asmo was spared a playful lecture when his name was called at the counter. You got up to help him carry the drinks and food back to your table. The barista seemed to be staring at you, but when Asmo put his finger up to his lips, they got flustered and looked away, returning to their work. Covering your face in the picture served another purpose: Asmo was hiding the gloss mark he left on your cheek. You didn’t need to know about it yet.

Belphegor

Belphie was lucky that you had chosen to sit in the back of the lecture hall where he could comfortably lean up against your shoulder and fall asleep without immediate repercussions. At least he was polite enough to nap on the shoulder for your non-dominant hand so you could continue to take notes as you listened to the lecture. Occasionally, you glanced down at his sleeping face; he looked so sweet, peaceful, and adorable.

The clock ticked down the few remaining minutes of the lecture, which was your cue to begin the wake-up process. Although Belphegor seldom cared what his brothers or the professor thought about him using you as a pillow during class, you found that it was easier to just wake him up before the complaints came rolling in. You set your pen down, pet Belphie gently, and whispered his name so that only he would hear you. A soft moan left him, and he nuzzled into your arm before leisurely opening his eyes with a content smile.

“Good morning, MC.” Belphie whispered into your ear.

Reluctantly, Belphegor forced himself upright and away from the warmth of your body just in time for the lecture to be dismissed. The professor and other students gathered their things and collectively made their way towards the doors. You, however, waited on Belphegor to shake off his nap and get to his feet.

“C’mon, MC. Catch up,” Mammon shouted from the front of the class.

“Give us a second,” you replied at a lower volume.

“Man, you two are so slow. I ain’t waitin’ around forever.” Mammon groaned and made his way slowly towards the door.

“He would know slow,” Belphie muttered just loud enough for you to hear as he stood up.

“Belphie,” you chided him, but your tone went ignored.

“Hey, can I borrow your notes later? Maybe we could review together.” There was a soft, sweet neediness in Belphie’s voice.

“Didn’t you catch the lecture in your sleep like you usually do?” Sometimes Belphie’s ability to remember things that happened around him while he was asleep creeped you out. He was like an unassuming monitoring device if he wanted to be.

“Indulge me.” Belphie knocked his shoulder against yours playfully.

“I always do, don’t I?” You sighed. That was the unfortunate effect he had on you: you always found yourself spoiling him, even when he didn’t deserve it – or rather, especially when he didn’t.

You were just about to walk into the hall when Belphie grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the classroom before the others spotted you. He played with your hand, caressing you with his thumbs. His cheeks were stained light pink as his eyes flitted from your hand to your face.

“What’s the matter, Bel?”

Belphie closed the distance between you, springing forward to kiss your cheek. The sudden movement surprised you, but it wasn’t especially shocking; Belphegor had always been physically affectionate. He inched closer, causing his hot breath to ghost over your skin. His lips curved into a precious grin as he whispered in your ear: “Thank you for always spoiling me.”

The honey-sweet tone of Belphie’s voice was undercut by a sharp yell from the corner of the room. “I saw that.”

It was Solomon. He stopped shoving his books into his bag to glare at the back of Belphegor’s head. Unfortunately for Solomon, Belphie wasn’t bothered; he simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Cool shit, bro.” Belphie replied in a condescending tone and lifted his arm up in the air to flip Solomon off. You watched Solomon’s jaw drop slightly as he physically recoiled. Sometimes Solomon forgot how rude Belphegor could be. It was hard not to laugh, but you really shouldn’t encourage his bad behavior by laughing. “Come on, MC. Let’s go.”

Belphie grabbed your arm and dragged you into the hall. He was attached, and he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. In fact, he planned to stay glued to your side until his desire for your attention was fully satisfied.

Solomon

The warmth of Solomon’s hands as he caressed your cheek was nothing compared to the warmth of his praise and your own pride swelling in your chest. Solomon hummed, “You did such a good job.”

You had successfully used a heating spell on the first try, evidenced by the warmth in Solomon’s previously cold hands. It had been a while since you got a spell that Solomon taught you perfect right away – let alone one that required you to manipulate another person’s body (and you could worry about the ethical dilemma involved with that later). Neither of you had expected you to raise his body temperature at such an ideal rate and stop at the perfect temperature. Of course, Solomon trusted you not to hurt him, but he was impressed by your control. He wanted to test you further.

“Excellent. Let’s try something similar.” Solomon began to search his shelves for the right ingredients. He continued to talk as he scanned, “I want to see if you can cool down an external object with the same level of control. If you can do it, I’ll reward you.”

“Bring it on,” you accepted. Solomon offered you plenty of praise when you did well, but he so rarely gave you an actual reward for your work. It was exciting to imagine what you could earn. Maybe he would teach you a cool, secret spell or give you a magical item. But more motivating than a reward was the idea of making Solomon proud.

“That’s my apprentice – so eager,” he mused, grabbing a bottle of glowing red liquid.

“Oh, but no home cooking as a reward,” you added, sparing your future self from potential suffering.

Solomon whipped his head around with a pout before returning to his search. He found a beaker and brought everything to his desk. By then, the pout had reshaped itself into a smirk. “I didn’t have cooking in mind when I offered you a reward, so it looks like we have a deal.”

Solomon poured plain water and the glowing red liquid into the beaker. They failed to mix. You asked, “What do I have to do?”

It was simple – or at least that was what Solomon said. All you had to do was cool the contents of the container between 32 to 36 degrees below the freezing point of water. If the red substance dipped under 36 degrees below the freezing point of water, it would become unstable. If you failed, the ice and glass would break open. Solomon didn’t tell you anything about the red substance or what “unstable” meant for it. All you knew was that you had a four-degree margin of error.

“And you’re sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t put my favorite apprentice in danger for a game, would I?”

With that reassurance, you focused your magic into the beaker. As the water slowly solidified, the red liquid became concentrated at the center until it was encased in ice. You just had to keep lowering it until something felt right. You stopped and nodded. Solomon inspected the beaker.

“A beautiful job,” Solomon praised you.

“Really? What did I do though?”

“I’ll tell you once the ice melts,” Solomon waved off your curiosity. “For now, it’s time for your reward. Close your eyes.”

You did as he instructed and listened to him moving about the room. His presence got closer until you could feel his warmth. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, causing your eyes to shoot open and your face to burn. Solomon chuckled at your response.

“I could feel your cheeks getting warm. Did I embarrass you?”

“No. I was just surprised.”

“Really?” Solomon leaned in and kissed your cheek again. “I don’t know. Your face burns under my lips.”

“You’re a terrible teacher,” you retorted. That wasn’t what you were expecting, of course he flustered you.

“Oh? That can’t possibly be true. My adorable apprentice seems to be doing quite well,” Solomon laughed, all too pleased with his successful attempt to tease you. “You learn so quickly. Should we try something even harder? Think you can handle it?”

There was a seductive tint to his words, and you narrowed your eyes at Solomon. “Same shady reward system? Pass.”

“Nope,” Solomon leaned close, trying to entice you. How were you just now noticing how sweet he smelled? Was he wearing perfume or cologne today? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. Solomon dropped his voice, and through a wicked smirk, he added, “even shadier. If you succeed, I’ll do whatever you ask for a full day.”

“And if I fail?” you asked cautiously.

“I get to punish you.”

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: These ones got really flirty. . . oh well. Uhm, leave me nice comments or something. I don't know. I feel like I'm forgetting to say something. . .

[marlynnofmany]

Playing Translation Telephone

“Hi,” I said as the door slid open. “Captain Sunlight wants to know how your translations are going.”

Coals sighed. “They’re going. This one’s a mess.” He shook his lizardy head, brick-red scales dull in the light by the doorway. That part of the translation suite was always dim because Trrili liked looming in the shadows there.

But today she was at the workstation in the back, surrounded by glowing screens and a cloud of irritated hisses. “I think we missed a language,” she announced, snapping her pincher arms and angling her antennae into a scowl.

“What, really?” Coals asked. He ran a hand over his head, scales clicking quietly. “How many is that now?”

“Sixssss,” Trrili hissed.

Coals grumbled something I didn’t catch, and walked back over to the workstation.

Curious, I followed and let the door shut behind me. “What kind of project is this one?”

“Old records of a multi-species colonizing effort,” Coals said from his floating chair with the tail hole. “The originals are lost, and all that’s left is this jumble that’s been translated through a succession of languages, none of which they bothered to write down. And they want us to figure out what the originals actually meant.”

“Sounds tricky,” I said. Each of the screens held writing, most in languages I didn’t recognize. Some were notes in the trade language we all spoke, and I was amused to see how much swearing was in Trrili’s notes.

“It is very tricky,” Trrili agreed, jabbing a little wrist finger at the screen in the middle. “The grammar doesn’t match the words, and the idioms are an utter tar hole. It’s anyone’s guess what culture came up with some of these details.”

“I’m pretty sure the bit about rocks is a Strongarm saying,” Coals said. “It makes more sense than a Frillian interpretation.”

“Yes, fine, probably,” Trrili said with an irritated wave of her pinchers. “I’m stuck at this part that goes off on a tangent about the family arrangements of the wildlife. It’s clearly significant, and at least one layer of translation wanted to make sure the full interpretation was spelled out, but that just makes it more confusing.”

“How so?” I asked. I’d gotten the job on this ship because of my animal-care knowledge, so maybe I could offer some insights. I peered at the screen.

“This part,” Trrili said, “Is a recounting of a colonist’s experience in retrieving goods from a shuttle that crashed in a lake. The water creatures seem to have complex social arrangements, and somehow that relates to their behavior toward this particular colonist.” She folded her pinchers and leaned back, glaring at the ancient diary. “Of course this had to be written by someone disinclined to speaking clearly.”

“What kind of behavior is it?” I asked. “Are we talking mating advances, or aggressively protecting the young, or—?”

“Aggressive,” Trrili said immediately. “This word means mouth, possibly teeth specifically, and in the grammatical arrangement that it’s currently configured into, it has to be saying that the thing bit the colonist.”

Coals flipped through documents on another screen. “Do we know what the official name for the creature is?”

Trrili hissed. “Not even close. That’s what this whole tangent is: an attempt at describing it. I’d love to know if it was the original colonist or someone later who decided it would be helpful to tell us that this creature’s ancestors rejected social bonds.”

“Rejected how?” I asked.

Coals brought up another document. “I’ve got something on the legal system of the original colony. Sounds like there were multiple types of family arrangements at play. Possibly this colonist was just musing on a similarity to their own life.”

Trrili hissed. “How does that help us? I don’t see any accounts of this person’s family life, or even their species. We have no way to know if their own parents performed the socially-accepted rituals or not.”

“Wait,” I said. “Is this about the animal’s parents not doing a certain ritual? Like marriage? Is the colonist calling the fish a bastard?”

Both of my alien coworkers looked at me. Coals asked slowly, “That’s an insult in human circles, isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

Trrili threw her pinchers skyward and stalked away from the workstation. “Of course it is. You people are sentimental about everything, including reproduction. This would have been so much simpler if we’d known from the start that there was a human layer to this.”

“So what does it say?” I asked. “The colonist went into the lake to help with the crash, and got bitten by a bastard fish?”

Trrili was walking in circles hissing, so Coals scooted in front of the center screen. “Going by what we’ve figured out so far,” he said, “The colonist was trying to move salvage from the shuttle. Walking through shallow water. The water creatures were of many bright colors — it goes into detail about that, comparing them to refractive prisms and seaspray — but they kept their distance as long as the colonist kept moving. Pretty sure this part says one came in for a bite as soon as the colonist stood still. And that’s where we go off on an elaborate description of the creature’s family arrangements.”

I grinned. “‘Dear diary, today I waded through a lake and got bit by a rainbow bastard fish. Terrible experience; wouldn’t recommend.’”

Coals looked closer. “It does actually say something like that afterward,” he admitted. “There’s a suggestion that the next person to enter the water wear protective clothing.”

Over Trrili’s aggravated hissing, I said, “That colonist might have been a human.”

“Might indeed,” Coals said. He scrolled up through a page of notes. “That could actually shed some light on a couple other spots, now that you mention it.”

Trrili appeared beside us. “Bring up the part about the colony leader mating with someone’s mother.”

I laughed. “I can tell you right now that that’s an insult. The colonist is likely complaining about the boss, not describing something that actually happened.”

Coals looked at Trrili. “Told you we need an insult chart.”

Trrili tilted her head dramatically. “That’s so much work!”

“So’s this,” Coals pointed out. “How about you take another look at what we’ve got so far here, and I’ll start a list of common human insults.”

Trrili took a position in front of the screens, hissing quietly.

“I’ll be happy to help,” I said to Coals. “My people are very creative on that front.”

“So I gather,” Coals said. He scooted over to me, digital notepad at the ready. “And not one of those insults revolves around eggs. Mindblowing.”

“Well,” I said with a tip of my head. “There is the thing about teaching your grandmother to suck eggs. That’s kind of an insult.”

“What?” Coals said. “Never mind. I can tell this is going to be a long list.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[nikonladyz4]

Members Supporting Jimin and his phenomenal success of MUSE

I will equivocally state that I am a jikooker with Jimin as my bias, but I support ALL members with my money (buying albums, digital downloads, merch, fan club, concerts) and time (streaming, blogs, IG, TikTok).

But, i don’t understand for the life of me the antics of one member. This is Jimin’s promotional weekend and there has not been one ounce of support for Jimin and his album release from Taehyung. Yet most of the other members (Suga does not promote while enlisted) have congratulated JM and shown their support. I expect to see a tiktok post from JK soon, as he did for Hobi and RM.

But why has Tae not supported this album release of Muse just like he never supported FACE? What he does instead is release a promo for his photo book during Jimin’s promo period. Actually, i was ok with it, because it was not music, but a personal photo project I saw as a gift to Army on Army day.

But today, in the middle of tracking and charting for Jimin, along with the trailer for JM/JK travel show releasing later today, he decides to post a photo of him and JK in Hawaii stating: JK will come quickly because he asked him to and missed him. What was the point of this post? Why is he feeding the taekookers who have been dragging Jimin relentlessly since the announcement of the travel show and the drop of his album. A large group of people who are actively working against Jimin by supporting other acts just to try and hold back Jimin. Mind you, JK is not getting the hate.

I am not saying a member has to publish on social media to show support, but he did for other members and never for Jimin. That whole show where they hugged each other on Jin’s discharge was very touching, but now feels so disingenuous.

Help me understand what is going on and why this seems to continually happen. Last year, JK would come back and provide context to everything that Tae said that put taekookers on a roll. Like Jimin, he has pretty much been absent from social medial and can’t do lives.

Do I believe, they are all friends? Yes! But are they all as close to each equally, obviously not and that is understandable. Tae is closer to his wooga squad than he is most of the members of BTS. But even taking the whole shipping aspect away from jikook, i would still feel Tae’s actions should be questioned, simply because what he does over and over again is to rile up the toxic members of his fanbase and taekookers to hate on Jimin. We saw how bad it got last year with the death threats and reports to the Ministry of Defense from JK solos and taekookers. It is bad now with Jimin’s album release and travel show with JK.

What does it take to be supportive like the other members or just simply be quiet this weekend?

This is not a hate post towards Tae, but a post calling out a behavior that has negative connotations towards Jimin, his supposed soulmate.

Bottom Line - STREAM, STREAM, STREAM FOR JIMIN LIKE THERE IS NO TOMORROW!!

[babygorewhore]

Unrequited Love

You’ve been best friends with Rafe Cameron since childhood and you have deep feelings for him you can’t control. But when you tell him, it goes horribly wrong.

So I was in a car accident today and this idea hit me. Warnings! Angst! Hurtcomfort! Car crash! Injury and violence! W.C over 2k

Rafe Cameron only had a soft spot for one person. And that was you. Unfortunately, he only saw you as a friend. His best friend at that. You had known him since you were in kindergarten and grown up together. You were in college now while he ran the Cameron empire. So he didn't have as much time for you. But before then, you were always at his house. At his parties. At the beach.

And you were madly in love with him.

You loved his personality as insane as he was, his charm and his protectiveness. You felt like you were the only one he liked. His ray of sunshine. Or figuratively sometimes.

But he never seemed to meet your emotions. The times where he had stayed over, he slept on the floor or the couch. Or vice Versa when you pretended you wanted a sleepover with Sarah, he left you to your own devices.

He was hot and cold. Sometimes he was affectionate. Slinging an arm over your shoulder. A hand on your back as he moved past. Or right now. At this party. He wasn’t paying any attention as he entertained a girl feet away from you. She swayed her hips as she threw her head back in a laugh. Everyone was having a good time. Drinking. Snorting something in the corner while you were standing alone watching him be with someone else.

You had dressed up in his favorite colored dress and heels. Your hair was down and makeup accentuated your eyes that you hoped one day he noticed. But he didn’t.

You gathered your purse, deciding to go home and you ignored the ache in your chest and turned. But you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Rafe stood in his shorts and black and white shirt. His hair was mused and you noticed lipstick staining his lips. “Hey, are you leaving already? What’s going on?”

You didn’t know what overcame you but tears pricked your eyes and you cleared your throat. “Yes. I’m going home.”

“What? Why? Are you sick?”

“No, rafe. I’m not sick.” You gritted out. A slew of emotions hitting you. Anger. Jealousy as you watched the girl impatiently look at you both from the corner.

“Then-“

His hand went to touch you when you moved away. You remembered all the times you comforted him while he talked about his father and the weight of being the eldest. The times where he felt burdened and where he would sometimes sweep you into his arms whenever the roles were reversed. Even as a Pogue, he still treated you fairly.

The necklace you wore, it was a small gem of your birthstone that he got you as a high school graduate present and you actually accepted the expensive token. You subconsciously touched it and moved away from him. “Rafe, I can’t pretend anymore.”

Rafe eyebrows moved together as you cleared your throat.

“I can’t pretend that it doesn’t bother me that you’re with her. When I’m always here. And you ignore me sometimes. It hurts my feelings. I mean you’re my best friend. We’ve always been around each other-“

“Whoa, why are you being so clingy? It’s not like you’re my girlfriend. This isn’t anything more than that. You know I don’t date.” Rafe’s words cut you like a knife as you clutched at your stomach.

“That can’t be true. You can’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind. Rafe, come on. Please at least hear me out-“

“I can’t fucking do this right now. It’s a party for god's sake. Why are you being so dramatic? So what? It’s a crush. You don’t need to do all of this.” Rafe snapped and started to turn. “Now I’m gonna go back and let you clear your head.”

“It’s not a fucking crush, I love you!” You yelled at him before clapping a hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

“Then you’re an idiot.” Rafe realized too late what he said as people faced your direction with pity in their eyes before a few snickered at your expense.

Your chin trembled but you refused to cry in front of all these Kooks. “Fuck you.” You said slowly and turned.

You ran out to your car after kicking off your shoes and he didn’t even bother calling out to you as you reached your car. You slammed the door and immediately felt hot tears staining your cheeks. You set your phone down and started playing music as you drove through the incoming storm. You started crying harder as a favorite song of yours came on. That perfectly describes your feelings for Rafe and the time he saw a guy messing with you.

He saw him grab your ass. Rafe had beat the shit out of him telling him to stay away from you. He was always doing that. Telling you to stop being around men who were beneath you. And now you completely humiliated yourself with his harsh words. Of course he didn’t love you back. He never said that.

As you drove through a green light, you saw another car speeding through a red one through the intersection. You froze knowing that he wasn’t going to stop and you felt the crash first, slamming against your car as you felt yourself slam against the door, hitting your head. You saw stars as you slid across the road, your entire body on fire as your seatbelt snapped and the strap cut against your skin. The passenger window shattered and you felt glass hit your body as you were pushed against a tree.

Your vision went dark briefly as another car came to a stop. You could barely move. You didn’t know if anything was broken as blood dripped from your head and nose from your face hitting the steering wheel airbag.

“Ma’am! Oh Jesus! I’m calling the police right now!” A female voice was by your window and you lucidly looked at her.

“I’m in-im hurt.” You managed and glanced at your shattered phone. Rafes contact was ringing but you couldn’t move your arm to reach.

The pain hit you as the other car sped off, leaving you in a heap as you waited.

“Yes. She’s a young woman. It was a hit and run. Yes. She’s hurt. Badly. I don’t think she can move. Please hurry! Should I get her out?”

The woman’s voice faded as you passed out.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” You snapped awake at the sound of a booming voice. “Of course I know her. She’s-she’s my best friend. She doesn’t have any family here!”

It was Rafe.

You were in the hospital bed, a cast on your arm and a gown. You had a few bandages on your face as you blinked. You had dozed on and off as the police came and took your statement and insurance information.

They gave you a few mild pain killers for the broken bones as they tried to find you a ride home. The sweet older woman who had called stayed with you. Her name was Julie as she rushed into your room, pulling the curtain back.

“There’s a man demanding to see you. Says his name is Rafe Cameron.”

You tensed and shook your head. Tears streaming down your face from the horrors of your accident and heartbreak. “No. Tell him to go away.”

“Go away?” He came in then, moving past Julie and he looked horrible. His eyes were a blaze of rage and fear as he took in your state. His clothes got wet from the rain.

“Oh my god, he could have fucking killed you.” He rushed to your side as you looked at him with cold eyes.

“And why are you here?” You snapped. He pulled back.

“You were in an accident. Of course I’m here. She answered the phone for you when they pulled you out. And I’m-“

“Get out!” You yelled at him, sitting up despite the pain. “I’ve heard enough from you today. I don’t have time to get my heart broken again.”

“Wait-“ Rafe held his hands up.

“NO! I’ve waited already. I’ve waited for years for you to admit you felt the same way when you embarrassed me. You completely hurt me when you said I was being clingy. If anything, you are. I have been by your side for years. Always putting you first. Because I love you. And that’s why I did everything. Why I put up with your bullshit. Your fighting. The way you’ve treated people. I can’t deal with it. I could have died rafe and I would rather sit here alone in pain than be near you.”

Rafe’s own eyes welled with tears. “Please. I’m so sorry-“

“I don’t care.” You whispered icily. “Get. Out.”

And he did.

He left.

“Oh sweetheart…” Julie said. After being silent during the entire exchange. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

Hours went by as you wept into your pillow. Hating yourself for telling him off but you had to have self respect. You had to stay strong. You couldn’t let him think it was okay to speak to you that way. Even if you loved him.

What you didn’t expect was the man you loved to come back in, it was well past visiting hours but you didn’t doubt he probably paid someone off. Rafe held a pair of clothes, one was his shirt and your pair of pants. He had been in your apartment. He set them gently on the chair. He had changed and he interrupted you from fully losing your temper.

“Listen. I am so sorry for what I did. There’s no excuse for that. But I can’t leave you. Not again. I’m gonna fight for you just like you’ve always done for me. When my shit dad hurt me and you threatened him. The way you slapped rose in the face. You’ve alway been there for me. And-“ Rafe moved slowly over to you.

“I never said because I felt like I didn’t deserve you. I’ve never had someone love me and I was selfish. I never said how much you meant to me because I was afraid I would always end up losing you. It’s not an excuse but-I love you too.”

You sniffled as you processed what he said. Your heart was still broken as you laid in the hospital bed. Broken arm but something about him made you resist screaming at him again. But you couldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

“What did you do when you left?”

“I found that motherfucker and had him arrested.” Rafe said unapologetically. “I also beat the shit out of him.”

“Rafe!” You cried out and he held a finger to his lips.

“He deserved more, baby. For hurting you. I’d never let anyone get away from that. Even myself.” He sank to his knees on your side of the bed. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I swear to god, I’ll never do that again. I promise.”

He was fully crying now, something he never did in front of anyone. But you were still so tired. Tired of getting your hopes up.

“Rafe-you know I love you. But I’m scared you don’t mean it.” You said thickly as you tried to reel in emotions as he took your uninjured hand.

“I do mean it. I know I fucked up. But I won’t ever do that again, baby girl. I love you. And I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so scared you were going to, I can’t even say the words.” Rafe pleaded with you.

Finally, you nodded. “It’ll take some time but I do forgive you.” Because you always would. He was everything to you.

He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned forward. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head a few times.

“Ouch.” You giggled and he gasped.

“Sorry. I got a little too excited.” You leaned up and kissed him on the lips gingerly.

“Come here.” You made room and he laid next to you as best as his large body could. You ignored the discomfort as you felt him lightly as he possibly could stroke your hair.

It wasn’t perfect. And he would have to prove it.

But you did believe him.

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @marchsfreakshow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @redhead1180 @imyourdaninow

[aurorasleeps-27]

i've decided to use a random word generator for my writing warm-ups and today's word was virtue!

drarry drabble #1, 868 words!

By virtue of this decree, the Ministry of Magic now pronounces you mortal enemies.

Harry stared at the parchment. Then he raised his eyes, and stared at his husband.

Draco looked up at him, then down at the Ministry letter, then up at him again. He cocked an eyebrow, lips pinching tight. 

‘Really?’ he said. ‘Did they have to use purple glitter ink for this?’

‘I’m more worried about the mortal enemies bit than the ink, to be honest,’ Harry said, brushing his thumb over Draco’s name on the parchment, scoffing when glitter got stuck to his skin. ‘But the glitter does feel a bit over the top, doesn’t it?’

Draco scoffed. ‘Why did they even send us this? Don’t they know we’re married?’

‘I would think so.’ Harry scratched his chin, reading the words that apparently declared he needed to consider his husband his mortal enemy. ‘‘Mortal’ feels a bit excessive. Did Hermione approve of this?’

Draco slanted an annoyed look at him. ‘How would I know?’

Harry shrugged. ‘You know everything, don’t you?’

‘I-’ Draco huffed through his nostrils. ‘Yes, but I don’t know about this.’

‘Could it be a joke?’ Harry suggested.

‘It must.’

‘Theo?’

‘Could’ve been Ron.’

‘Right. We can just ignore this then, can’t we?’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s not a joke, then.’ Harry stared down at the fifth letter of its kind, the purple ink glittering and catching the light of the sun as it reflect off their kitchen stove. 

‘Bollocks,’ Draco groaned, crumpling the letter and throwing it towards the sink, missing it entirely. Harry snickered. Draco glared at him. 

‘Go talk to Kingsley,’ his husband hissed. ‘I have to go to the flower reserve with Mother.’

‘No.’

‘Apparently -’

‘No. I refuse. I’ll write an appeal.’

‘I don’t think you can.’ Harry put his hands on his hips, staring down at Draco, sprawled over the couch in his robe and with a towel wrapped around his hair. ‘We have to do it.’

‘Dearest husband of mine,’ Draco said, voice sickeningly sweet. ‘I already spent my teenage years loathing you, and it was dreadfully tiring. I don’t want to do it again. It’ll give me wrinkles.’ 

‘Well, we don’t have a choice. It’s this enemies thing, or Azkaban, and I reckon that’ll give you more wrinkles, won’t it?’

Draco was quiet for a moment before he groaned loudly, the sound full of annoyance. He opened his eyes to glare up at Harry. ‘This is extremely inconvenient.’

Harry nodded solemnly. ‘I agree.’

‘It’s not at all how I thought our marriage would be.’

‘I kno – oh! This reminds me. They’ve nullified our marriage.’

Draco’s eyes went wide. ‘Why in Merlin’s name did they do that?’

‘The mortal enemies thing?’

‘What, enemies can’t get married?’

‘Not to one another, I would think.’

‘That’s stupid. What about the enemies to lover arc?’

Harry blinked. ‘The what?’

Draco gaped. ‘What do you mean the what? You have literally lived it, Harry.’

‘Have I?’

‘I – Yes!’ Draco waved an accusatory hand between the two of them. ‘Our entire relationship? It went from hate to love, did it not?’

Harry scoffed. ‘For you, maybe. I was always in love with you.’

Draco’s affronted expression gave way to a smugly satisfied one. ‘Of course you were. I’m perfect.’

‘Of course,’ Harry echoed. ‘Fact is, we’re enemies now, according to the law. They gave me an entire list of things we have to do.’

‘Such as?’ 

Harry slipped the paper the Ministry worker had given him out of his back pocket and read a random line on the list. ‘Have a sexually charged public duel.’

‘Oh,’ Draco said, considering. ‘That doesn’t sound too bad.’

Draco snatched the list out of Harry’s hand, eyes flickering rapidly over the – Harry thought – excessively long list of frankly embarrassing but also amusing thing they had to do. 

‘This could actually be fun,’ Draco mused after a bit. 

‘I agree,’ Harry said. ‘We can make it even more fun. They don’t say anything about why we’re supposed to be mortal enemies, really, so we can make it all about something really stupid. It could be hilarious.’

‘Something stupid,’ Draco said thoughtfully, folding the paper again and handing it back to Harry. ‘Like the fact that you dip your chips in ice cream? That does feel like something I should be hating you to the death for.’

‘Sure,’ Harry shrugged, then smirked. ‘Or the fact that you feel comfortable with sitting on our bed with your outside clothes. That truly feels like enemies material.’

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘You’re so annoying.’

‘Good,’ Harry said, lifting Draco’s legs and sitting on the couch, settling Draco’s feet on his lap. ‘If i’m your mortal enemy, you should -’

Draco gasped, a hand flying to grasp a fistful of Harry’s shirt and drag him closer to him. Harry grunted, shifting, staring at Draco’s wide eyed, exhilarated expression with confusion.

‘What?’ he said, staring skeptically as Draco’s mouth curled into a broad grin.

‘The sex,’ Draco whispered, pulling him closer. ‘Think of the sex, Harry. We could hate-fuck our way through this thing!’

Harry stared at Draco, then broke into an equally broad, lavish grin. ‘Hate-sex,’ he whispered, as Draco dragged him even closer. ‘Bloody brilliant.’

[missviviii]

I saw your post and could I request a Zayne fluff where he comes home from a tiring work day & us making him a coffee + preparing a warm bath

a/n: ooooh!!! sure!! <3

.

ミ★ Love & Deepspace ミ★

pairing: zayne x reader

warning(s): none

summary: zayne has been so busy lately, and you decided to help him relax after a late night at work with a warm bubbly bath and a cup of coffee with a side of him laying in between your legs with his head stuffed into your chest.

“Best Thing to Come Home to.”

It’s no surprise that Zayne often goes home late and always wake up super duper early. Lately, you’ve been staying at his place since your place needed some of its heating and plumbing fixed and other issues. Very much reluctantly so (actually he agreed quite quickly), he let you stay with him until your place was finished.

You worked as a Hunter, yes, and there were days where you had to pull all-nighters or wake up extremely early for missions, but on the whole, you felt like Zayne had very little time to relax properly. So for today, you decided to pamper him a bit, helping your dear Zayne relax.

Tick Tock the sound of his clock in his office ticked. On it, it read 11:20 pm. Just some minutes away from midnight. Zayne sighs, leaning back in his chair as he takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. Just a few more files, and he’ll be able to go home, maybe even sleep in for an extra few minutes since he actually had some leeway in his schedule tomorrow. He put back on his glasses, continuing to work on those patient files before he turned off the lights in his office then left.

You were in the kitchen, brewing some fresh piping hot coffee for Zayne while you were preparing a small dinner for him. You didn’t really cook often, but sometimes you did when you really felt like it. Zayne had texted you he was heading home in about 20 minutes, and you had already prepared a nice warm bath for him. You were reading the news on your phone when you heard the door open, and a tired voice came out. “I’m home,” Zayne said as he hung up his coat on the coat hanger. His house smelled like freshly brewed coffee. Zayne looked towards the kitchen, where you were just leaving after finishing your hands.

“Hey! Thought I’d make a cup of coffee for you. Also, I prepared you a warm bath upstairs.” You smiled while you leaned against the doorway, watching him look at you in a certain way. Well aren’t you nice today? Not that he didn’t like it… In fact, he very much did like it.

Zayne only hummed as he took off his shoes. “Aren’t you being nice today?” He mused, looking at you with a slight tilt to his head. He leaned in close, closely inspecting your face. “What’s the occasion? I don’t usually return from work to find you being so nice. Perhaps you are sick?” He put his hand up to your forehead, to which you swatted away.

“I’m gonna take back the bath and the coffee if you don’t stop messing with me!” You pouted as you turned your back around and stormed off to the kitchen

Zayne let out a sigh, not a disappointment one, but more of an amused one. He took off his glasses before heading to the bathroom, where you had prepared a bath for him already. “Very nice of you, hm?” He muttered to himself as he closed the door and took off his uniform, slowly sliding himself into the warm water. It smelled like lavender and vanilla, mainly because you had used lavender soap for the bubble bath and had vanilla scented candles all around.

You were laying on the couch and on your phone, texting Tara about your plans to hang out whenever you both are off of work. You didn’t notice Zayne coming down, clad in his comfy pajamas and his black hair messy. Suddenly, you felt someone climbing onto the couch and hovering over you. “Zayne?” You called out as you looked away from your phone, only to find him shifting around and laying in between your legs, head on your chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist. “I made coffee, do you want any?”

“Later. Let me have this for now,” he mumbled as he nuzzled his face closer against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed your hands running through his hair. You were like a personal heater, your body warmer compared to his. And he lived for the cuddles and hugs you provided. “Just another minute with you, my love.”

[syubseokie]

all on my tongue (i want it) | khj

― pairing: kim hongjoong x pierced afab!reader ― genre: explicit, a lil fluff, idol au ― word count: 2.6k ― warnings: oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, pet names (baby, babe), reader has a tongue piercing, a hint of cockwarming ― summary: Your voice is coaxing but not demanding, and Hongjoong acquiesce to your siren call. Soon, the gentle prodding of your tongue bleeds into longer strokes and your lover shivers at the sensation. Yet, something feels different... OR The one where you surprises Hongjoong with a new tongue piercing ― notes: at the end.

"Do you think I'd suit a tongue piercing?"

The question is completely random and you had not even realised the words left your mouth until you noticed your sister stare at you with wide-eyes and an excited grin.

"Yes, oh my god!"

You hum, pulling a quick inhale on your vape, before asking, "Should we go get it done now?"

"Damn! Hongjoong only left last night and you're already spiralling." She teases. "Let me smoke this last cone and then we can go."

You wave your dismissively, thinking over the spontaneity of this afternoon's session with your sister and the upcoming event. It was not often your sister had a day off, but being that you were at home on your own for the next month, she decided to "pull a sickie" and crash your apartment; arms lined with snacks, a bag of the devil's lettuce, and her home-made gravity bong.

The sound of spluttered coughing brings you out of your quiet musing and you snort as she chugs back her fruit juice. "You good?"

She nods, a slight wheeze escaping her lips, before she reaches over to take a hit from your vape. You allow her to do so, stealing her drink and taking a gulp, before standing up and motioning her to follow. "Alright, let's go get a tongue piercing."

∞

"What are we getting today, hun?"

It suddenly hits what you're about to do as you fill in the consent form, and you hope your voice is clear of nerves when you reply, "Tongue piercing."

Once the form is completed and the payment finalised, you and your sister follow the piercer into a smaller room where she instructs you to sit on the edge of a black cushioned table. Your sister sits on a chair opposite you, playing absentmindedly with her own tongue bar, but you can see the excitement in her eyes as your piercer preps the required instruments.

"Don't be nervous," your sister chimes when she notices your gaze, "You're going to look so cool with it once it's done. And it doesn't even hurt!"

You glance at the clamp in the piercer's gloved grasp before looking back to your sibling. "You sure?"

She offers you a reassuring smile. "Trust me. The healing process is probably worse than the actual needle and it doesn't even take that long to heal either."

The piercer agrees, informing you of what to expect in the coming days and weeks as your tongue heals. They remind you to rinse your mouth daily with warm water and salt, and also advise what foods will be easier to eat during the next two weeks. "Are you ready?"

You inhale deeply, steeling your nerves. "Let's do it."

∞

Using the bathroom mirror, you stare at the cute barbell that sits on your tongue. After three-and-a-half weeks since your initial visit, you returned to the piercing studio to check the healing progression. You had spotted the light blue aurora borealis designed jewellery in the glass cabinet when you entered the store for your follow-up appointment, and after receiving the go ahead to change the piece to a slightly shorter bar, you requested the pretty one that had caught your eye.

Safe to say, you were very happy with your impulsive decision and you had a feeling your boyfriend would be too.

Speaking of...

The feeling of excitement (and, to be honest, relief) floods your system when you glance at your phone to see Hongjoong's text reminding you he and the members were finally back in the country. You do not consider yourself a needy partner, but you cannot deny how much you missed him — or at least being in the same time zone. Phone calls, voice notes, and sending tiktoks could only fill the gap of his missing presence so much, and you could not wait to wrap your arms around his frame once again.

Nor could you wait to wrap your tongue around his c—

The sound of his ringtone breaks through your thoughts, and you are quick to answer his call.

"Baby?"

A smile graces your features when you hear the familiar endearment, and you switch off the bathroom light before making your way into the living room. "Hi Joongie," you reply with a soft voice. "Are you out of the airport now?"

"I am. Did you want to come to our place or should I come to your apartment?"

You hum, mulling the options over. "I'm not too fussed. What's easier for you?" There is a bit of rustling on his end and you faintly hear Wooyoung's voice in the background.

"I'll come to your place," he decides. "I'll drop my things off first and shower before heading over. Is that okay?"

"Of course, love. Are you sure you're not tired, though? We can always see each other tomorrow or once you've settled back in. I'm not going anywhere, Joong."

Despite the tiredness you hear in his tone, he waves off your concern with assurance that he wants to see you. "I miss you."

His words make your chest flutter and you can't help but internally roll your eyes at how soft you are for him. "Alright then. I'll get some food sorted."

"You are heaven-sent. See you soon."

∞

It is just over an hour later when you hear the tell-tale sign of your apartment door opening, followed by the removal of shoes and Hongjoong's dulcet voice calling out for you. Having just finished whipping up a pot of stir-fry with whatever you had in your fridge, the aroma of a home cooked meal wafting through the air and the low sounds of lo-fi music welcomes your boyfriend into your place.

Quickly wiping your hands with a kitchen towel, you go to greet Hongjoong but his excitement to see you is palpable as he meets you halfway with a playful "Honey, I'm home!", before wrapping you in his embrace. You chuckle, allowing him to bury his head in your neck, and return his hug. His scent is familiar and overwhelming in the best of ways, solidifying his physical presence.

"I'm glad you're back," you murmur while gently running your fingers through his hair. "I missed you."

He responds with a low hum and his arms around you tighten just a fraction. "I missed you too. So much." He slightly loosens his hold enough to press a much-needed kiss to your lips, but before he can deepen the action, you pull away and offer him a knowing smile.

"Are you hungry? Food's ready."

He shakes his head and brings you back into his arms. "Not hungry right now. Not for food anyway." His mouth begins a trail from your collarbones, up your neck, and back towards your lips, his hands stationed in your hips to steady your wavering frame. "One month away from you is far too long."

You cannot help but sigh happily at the sensations he offers; tilting your head back to grant him access to your neck as he makes his way back down the opposite side. "You're being dramatic. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure you and your right hand became well acquainted again on the nights you really missed me."

Hongjoong huffs, his breath tickling your neck deliciously and you fight the urge to rub your thighs together because there was no way you were going to let him know just how much he was affecting you. God, you are so weak for him.

"While that's true," he says, his thumbs digging into your sides just a little deeper, making you emit a small, undignified sound, "It certainly doesn't beat the feeling of your tight pussy. Or your mouth."

His vulgar words stir something inside of you, and you quickly decide that food can definitely wait. "In that case," you hum, pushing him towards your sofa, "I have a surprise for you."

He responds with a single eyebrow raise before collapsing on the furniture as you settle on your knees in front of him. A knowing smirk plays on your lips when you see the outline of his semi pressing against the confines of his black jeans, and you waste no time in unzipping his pants and pulling him out of his briefs. A quiet hiss escapes his mouth once you begin stroking him gently, coaxing him into full hardness before placing a chaste kiss on the tip.

"Close your eyes, Joongie. Let me make you feel good."

Hongjoong does not argue; simply allowing his head to fall against the back of the chair and his eyes to flutter shut. Your touches are magic in the way he feels the tension in his muscles ease and a giant sigh mixed with relief and pleasure fall from his lips. Kitten licks from his tip down to the base are less of a teasing gesture and more of a warm up before the sound of you spitting into your palm and taking hold of his hard member makes his balls clench in anticipation. He moans softly and resists the urge to beg for your mouth. You know what he needs at this very moment, and all he has to do is enjoy it.

"Relax for me, baby."

Your voice is coaxing but not demanding, and Hongjoong acquiesce to your siren call. Soon, the gentle prodding of your tongue bleeds into longer strokes and your lover shivers at the sensation. Yet, something feels different—

With purpose, you flatten your tongue against Hongjoong's cock and drag it upwards in a painstakingly slow motion. His nostrils flare, and just as he opens his eyes to lock with yours, you swipe your muscle along the slit of the head, making sure he feels the piercing where you want him to.

"Holy fuck—" he gasps, staring at you in awe. "Baby, did you— fuck —did you get your tongue pierced?"

Your eyes twinkle in delight. Rather than respond verbally, you choose to focus on bringing your boyfriend to perfect absolution by taking him in your mouth and slowly pushing him down your throat. The sound he makes is one that has you clenching in excitement, and it isn't long before you feel his hands settle on the back of your head. You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him moan again, before dragging your lips and tongue back to the tip. You continue doing this in a relaxed manner for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds falling from your boyfriend’s lips, until you decide to up the ante by steadying your palms on his thighs and increasing your pace.

"Shit!"

Satisfied with his reaction, you carry on; occasionally meeting his dark gaze with your own, but never stopping. Even when you begin to feel that familiar dull ache in your jaw, you switch up your movements by including your hands to work in tandem with your mouth.

Hongjoong is in pure bliss. Soft pants and whispers of your name and how good you are drip in honey-covered ecstasy, and he believes that if the world were to end that moment, there is no other way he would go (except, maybe, between your thighs but semantics ). The sound of wet slurps mixed with the sensation of your pierced tongue and soft hands brings him closer to that just-out-of-reach high, but when you take him wholly in your mouth again — your nose pressing against his neatly trimmed pubic bone — and swallow, that high brushes against the frays of his sanity.

"Baby," he mutters with a choked gasp, "f-fuck, baby, I'm really—" another wheeze as his orgasm crawls up the base of his spine. "I'm really fucking close."

You do not pull back. In fact, your grip on his thighs tighten as you bob your head up and down his length with determination while maintaining eye contact. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth with each push and pull, and there are unshed tears pooling in your waterline. You are not particularly fond of the mess that comes with giving head, but Hongjoong loves it messy and you love making him happy.

Hongjoong is at his wits ends and barely coherent when he tries to warn you. "Shit. Baby. I'm going to — f-fuck — I'm so close ." His words are desperate, body tense and breathing shallow. "Please, baby. Where? Where c-can I...?"

You pull back and take hold of his throbbing cock. Spews of curses and praise mixed with wet squelches resound loudly. You close your eyes and open your mouth with your tongue out.

The sight of the pretty coloured jewel sitting snugly on the awaiting muscle is enough to send Hongjoong over the edge.

A long, drawn-out groan is heard seconds before you taste the familiar thick, warm fluid. Your upper lip catches a bit of his release too and you eagerly swipe along its plushness. The pulsating member in your hand is a reminder that he is still going, and you teasingly stroke him until his whines signal his oversensitivity. Yet, even when he pleads your name with a warning hiss, you offer gentle kisses and soft licks to his softening cock.

—

Hongjoong shudders as exhaustion finally settles in. Normally, his stamina allows him to last a lot longer, but having gone without you than what is normal, he is not surprised at how quickly he succumbed to the pleasure of your warm mouth and knowing hands. Hongjoong does not know what nation he saved in his past life to have met you in this one, but as he watches you swallow his cum with a grateful sigh and a wistful smile, he wisely chooses not to question it. He is unsure how much time passes — though he suspects it has only been less than a few minutes — when you gently usher him to consciousness and hand him a hot bowl of the food you had prepared. There is another bowl in your hand for yourself, and he eagerly accepts the meal before gesturing to you to join him on the couch.

"Welcome home, Joongie."

Yeah. Hongjoong wisely chooses not to question it at all.

∞

A little something extra:

03:48am Buttcrack (Sister): A little birdy told me your boyfriend is home 👀 03:49am Buttcrack (Sister): Did you show him your piercing yet? 03:49am Buttcrack (Sister): What did he say? 03:51am Buttcrack (Sister): Helloooooo ??? 03:55am Buttcrack (Sister): Bro you better be dead or giving him head 03:57am You: It's literally crackhead hours wtf go to sleep 03:57am Buttcrack (Sister): What did Hongjoong say about your piercing? 03:58am You: Idk I was too busy sucking his dick 03:58am Buttcrack (Sister): Gross 03:58am Buttcrack (Sister): 🤢🤢🤢 03:59am You: gave him that hwak-TUH gawk gawk 3000 04:00am Buttcrack (Sister): brotha eugh 04:02am You: Fuck off I'm going back to sleep

Switching your phone to DND and placing it back on the charging dock, you curl back into Hongjoong's arms and close your eyes. His cock inside of you twitches and, despite the sensitivity you feel as a result of the activities that took place after your meal, you clench around him.

"Who were you texting?" Your boyfriend tiredly mumbles as he drags you on top of him.

"My sister."

He makes a humming noise and softly traces patterns along your bare back. "What did she want?"

"Wanted to know what you thought of my piercing. Told her I was too busy sucking your dick to ask." You answer, sleep dragging you into its warm embrace.

It is silent for a few moments. You are on the edge of fully succumbing to the land of dreams when Hongjoong's voice brings you back—

"Maybe I should get a tongue piercing."

―

fin.

a/n: hey, hi, hello!

uh…it's been a minute lol. and i'm an ateez girlie now (atiny wassuuuuuup)! i've had this sitting in the dungeons for a while after i spontaneously decided to get my tongue pierced at the start of this year when my partner visited their home country for a month. fun fact: all interactions with reader and reader's sister are actual conversations that transpired between my own sister and i (because she's the enabler out of all my siblings lmao). anywho, thought this would be a little fun thing to publish after two years of radio silence. i have been going through the trenches y'all and the imposter syndrome hit HARD when it came to my writing.

thank you so much for reading my work. i am always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or leave me a comment!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Three

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2,507 (mayhaps I lied...but they will get longer in the future! Trust <3)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rated; 18+ for swearing and some mature themes

Notes; Rafayel curses...once or twice (I believe this warrants a warning)

Prev || Next

Masterlist

The training honestly wasn't that difficult. There wasn't much to say about it. Just testing out different weapons on makeshift dummies that Xavier had created with his light evol or shooting targets from different distances. You warmed up to your gun rather quickly and while you could use other weapons, you preferred the versatility of a gun. You felt like you and Xavier grew closer during the training.

Today, however, was the day of the art expo. You decided to dress a bit nicer than usual, choosing a yellow dress with a choker and some sneakers just in case you needed to fight. Then, you catch a ride to Whitesand Bay where Rafayel's art studio ‘Mo Art Studio’ was located. You pay the taxi driver and start heading for the large metal gate, pushing it open and you go straight for Rafayel’s front door. You don't bother to knock since Rafayel never knocked on your door and this proves to be the right choice as it allows you to sneak up on Rafayel and scare him while he's painting.

“Boo!” You place your hands on his shoulder and Rafayel actually jumps, his paintbrush leaving a jagged red line across the canvas. “Ah, you ruined my- wait,” Rafayel pauses, holding his chin with one hand, “actually…This is going to be my best painting yet. Hold on for a second and go sit down somewhere.”

You flop down on the sofa near Rafayel so you could keep an eye on him painting. “Do you need my assistance again?” You tease and Rafayel looks over at you with a sassy look, “I think I can handle this on my own.”

After thirty minutes of waiting, you roll over on your stomach on the couch. “Are you done yet?” You whine, your feet kicking behind you as you scroll through your phone. “Almost. I just need to do the last finishing touches.”

“Thomas says you're going to be late.” You sing-song, having snitched him out to his manager as a way to make the artist hurry up. “Well then we'll be fashionably late, silly girl.” You pause at the nickname, blinking a few times before your ears turn a light shade of red and you clear your throat. “Are you bringing that painting to the expo?”

“Hmm no? I'm thinking…of giving it to you. Doesn't that sound so charitable of me?” Rafayel muses, finally setting his paintbrush down and he turns toward you, holding a hand out. “Want to take a look?”

You get up from the couch and walk over to Rafayel, taking his hand before he tugs you closer to stand between his legs. He turns you around so your back is to his chest and then rotates his chair to show the painting. It was an abstract piece of art but you could clearly tell it was supposed to be you, lying on your stomach on his couch. “I'll send it to your apartment later, yeah?” His breath brushes past your ear and you hold back a shiver.

“You're too kind.” You say dryly though the smile on your lips contradicts your condescending tone. “I'm happy to be your muse for today.” You turn your head to look at him and Rafayel quickly looks away as his face turns red from his blush. “Let's get going, Miss bodyguard.” He taps your side before standing. “Hopefully we won't encounter any trouble and we can keep your pretty dress clean. Did you dress up just for me?”

“Hmm, more like I dressed up for myself, mister artist.” You poke his chest before shrugging, “but if it helps you sleep better at night then yes, I did dress up for you.” You turn to smile at him with your hands behind your back. “Now let's go lover boy, we can't keep your fans waiting.”

The art expo was boring at best. Rafayel dip, dodged, and evaded every single reporter while you stood off to the side, sipping on a complimentary alcoholic drink. You could've sworn you saw a familiar head of white hair before Rafayel waves a hand in front of your face. “I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Don't tell me you've been ignoring me.” He pouts, putting his hands on his hips.

“How could I ever ignore you? You make it so difficult to even try.” You laugh behind your wine glass and Rafayel plucks the glass from your hand, tilting his head back to down the rest of it. He sets the now empty glass on a metal tray as a waiter passes by and rests his hand on the wall behind you, effectively trapping you between him and the wall. “Can you ignore me now?” He asks, leaning his face a bit closer to yours and you hold back a smile as you look away, “I can sure as hell try if that's what you'd like but I don't think you want that.” You glance back at him and he's clearly flustered, not used to you flirting back with him.

“I think you've had too much to drink. It's late, let's get you home.” Rafayel turns to leave but you grab him by his shirt. “Are you scared?” You whisper, raising your left brow as you challenge him. He scoffs, still blushing as he retaliates, “Why would I be scared? Shouldn't you be worried that you'll be in so many news articles? Oh, I can see the headlines now! ‘World renowned artist Rafayel has a mysterious girlfriend’? ‘Artist beloved by millions has his own beloved? Who is she?’ Does any of that sound fun to you?”

“I can always say I'm drunk and you're just helping me out.” you muse, clicking your tongue. “And then the news article would be ‘World renowned artist helps a drunk woman home? Where did he go after, did he go back home or…’ “ you trail off, tilting your head to the side as Rafayel groans, “You really need to know when to stop, silly girl. We're leaving, now.”

Rafayel tugs you outside by your wrist as you laugh, your head smacking against his back as he suddenly stops walking. “What's wrong now, lover bo-” Rafayel suddenly turns around and pins you to a column. “There's reporters at six o'clock. Unless you want everyone knowing you were with me tonight, act like you're so drunk you passed out.”

“You're no fun.” You pout, but rest your head against his chest nonetheless. Your drooping eyes closed as you actually felt a bit sleepy now. “Are you going to carry me out?” You whisper, a smile in your voice before Rafayel sighs and grumbles, “Don't push your luck.” Though you suddenly find yourself being lifted into the air and you wrap your arms around his neck. “Jesus, you can't give me a warning?” You whisper-yell and Rafayel chuckles, “What drunk person needs a warning before being picked up? Now shh, you're supposed to be drunk off your ass right now.”

You pause your retort at hearing Rafayel curse. Now that you think about it…the boys never cursed in game. At least, not that you remember. Curses sound almost pretty coming from Rafayel's lips. You close your eyes once more and rest your forehead against his neck, your hair thankfully covering your face so if any pictures surface, no one would know it's you unless…it's someone who knows you well like Xavier or Zayne but those two never check social media so you doubt they'd find out.

A few cameras go off but for whatever reason, you don't see any more bright shutters behind your eyelids and you end up being lulled to sleep by Rafayel’s breathing and unusually fast heart rate.

The next few days go by rather quickly. You're either chasing after Rafayel and going to Twinkle Toys with him to play the claw machines, training with Xavier and actively fighting wanderers as you're back working at the Hunter's association, or what you're currently doing- which is heading to Snowcrest in the Arctic with Zayne since your grandma's letter said you'd find some answers there with someone called Doctor Noah.

Apparently, he's Zayne's mentor so that makes it even easier to find the man. As you get off the train with Zayne, you notice multiple hunters and check your watch. There must be some metaflux anomalies around the Arctic but that's not what you both were here for. Since today marks a week since you were discharged from the hospital, the wound on your right eye is healed enough to not cause you constant pain.

“You know where we're going right, Zayne?” You ask as you hook your index finger through his belt loop so as to not lose him in the crowd. “You know, if you wanted to hold my hand, you should've just asked.” Zayne takes your hand from his belt loop and instead holds it as he walks. “I-” you pout, ears slightly turning red, “I just didn't want you getting lost.”

“Me getting lost?” Zayne chuckles and shakes his head. “Sure, we'll go with that.”

You talk to a few locals and they point you in the direction of the sleds since that's the only way to get to Doctor Noah's home, which is higher up on the snowy mountain but not too far. “Have you driven one of these before?” You ask as he steps on first and motions for you to stand in front of him. “It's automated.” He tugs you over by your gun strap since you didn't move fast enough, one hand resting on your waist as he presses his chest into your back so he can set a destination on the small, touch pad screen.

“Is this safe?” You ask after a few moments of silence. Zayne presses the last button on screen and sighs, “Do you think I'd be using this if it wasn't safe?” The robotic dog begins to pull the sled and after about thirty minutes of the chilly ride, it finally stops. You're cold, of course shivering but that doesn't stop you from petting the robo dog, even if it doesn't react.

“Let's head inside, you're getting a bit too cold.” Zayne says, tugging at your hand as you both walk toward the cabin.

The information you learnt from Doctor Noah wasn't much of a surprise to you, who is already aware of this information but like always, you have to act as if this is all new and surprising. Like your grandma working for Onychinus, experimenting on children with aether cores, saving you- their most prominent test subject after the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, saving Caleb as well, her leaving Onychinus with us and putting that life behind her. Every trail leads to Onychinus being the one behind the explosion that killed grandma and Caleb but you didn't feel so sure about it. Sure, they could've been tying up loose ends by why do something so obvious when they would've just assassinated her and left you and Caleb alive? Maybe they wanted you to be isolated since they want your aether core?

Honestly, even with all of your knowledge about the game, you still didn't know everything. You definitely didn't get every single card, not wanting to spend all of your money in the mobile game, and the game wasn't completed- seeing as an update was scheduled a few months before you entered the game. The only information you had about the next love interest was that his name was Sylus, he was devastatingly attractive with his white hair and red eyes, and his evol was dark red. You would guess blood manipulation could be his evol but that's just speculation. Oh, you also know he is the leader of Onychinus, so if anyone would have answers, it's him. You came to the same conclusion as the one who came before you, the N109 Zone and Onychinus would be where your answers lie.

Though that's easier said than done. The N109 Zone was a lawless area, having taken the most damage during the Catastrophe fourteen years ago. No real plants grow there, it's mostly dark and gloomy, it seems to be the area with the most crime and poverty. It's where orphans and the homeless go…it's where big gangs like Onychinus can run free, an illegal protocore market, all kinds of underground stuff goes on there so honestly, you're a bit worried how you'll fare there. But you have to continue the story somehow.

Doctor Noah's snow white fox Pie hops into your lap as you sit on his porch, blowing out smoke from your lips as you pet the soft creature. Doctor Noah had said Pie got his name because he'd steal pies from people’s windowsills like he was in a cartoon and when the doctor saved the little fox, he ate even more pies. It's a cute reason for a name and it made you want a pet. Your apartment always felt lonesome, even if you saw the three guys every other day. When you were on your own, you felt the most suffocated as the constant reminder that this isn't your world pressed down against your chest. You weren't sure what to do, if you could act differently from the game and what changes it would bring if you did. You didn't want to act too differently and flip the whole story on its head and you not know what the next course of action was.

At least currently, you still know what's left until the end of chapter eight. You still have a month before you're sent into the unknown. A month before you'll allow yourself to spiral, panic, and act differently from the original main character.

You hear the chair next to you creaking as Zayne takes a seat. He stays silent, allowing you to stay lost in your thoughts before he taps your thigh. Pie nips at his finger and nuzzles back into your lap and you turn to look at Zayne. “Look, it's the aurora.” He smiles, jerking his head in the direction of the sky and honestly, that's exactly what you needed. You lean back in your chair, head tilted up as you look at the pretty lights in the sky that only appear in the arctic. “It's so beautiful.” You murmur, cold hands lightly petting Pie to stay warm.

“It is.” Is all Zayne says and you know he's looking at you without even having to see his face. You knew how the game went and you knew you'd have to stay the night in Snowcrest before heading back to Linkon tomorrow. Then, a few weeks after that, you'd be going on a mission with Rafayel.

Honestly, all you wanted to do was rest. Especially with everything that's soon to come.

Your eyes slowly drifting closed and your hand falls from Pie's soft fur. Your last thought as you fell asleep was that you wanted to bring Rafayel here to give him some inspiration.

---------------------------------------------------

I hope no one minds double author's notes! To be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit having to post this to three different sites but it's fun. Tumblr is by far the prettiest in terms of design though. Wattpad and AO3 are the bane of the existence but I don't mind posting to multiple platforms in case one story gets taken down. Then, I still have the copies! So, I guess, it's worth it in the end.

Hope you enjoyed this short chapter (I sound like a broken record) and I'm really hoping the next one is longer because I don't even remember...)

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- First time blow jobs, cumming, dirty talk, jealousy (Gojo is kinda sweet now yay lol)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 7,681

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here!

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

You tap your pen on the table, nibbling your lower lip and staring at the presentation you have just put together a couple of days later. Though not your ‘kink’ perhaps, it was immensely satisfying to do them, you had to admit. You clicked through each slide, making sure they all matched up just so, going over things for the tenth time in your head.

It was damn good.

You errantly pop your knuckles, starting to finish up, and then uploading it to your little thumb drive to show him. You peek over and see Gojo in his office, and of course Miwa is there, gushing over him. He kept a distance, you notice errantly, his hands were in his jean pockets, as it was your office’s casual day. Even you wore some jeans and a black tee shirt today.

Miwa came bouncing out, running over to you with a smile. “Mr. Gojo is ready to see you when you’re finished!”

“I actually just got done. Perfect.” You start to pack up some things since there are only a few minutes left, the office is already nearly empty since five o clock had just passed. “You should head home, Miwa.”

“I will see you later right?”

“I’ll be there!” She grinned and then headed out, leaving you relatively alone in the giant offices with Gojo. You caught his icy blue gaze, bringing your little flash over as you walked in his office. “All done, Sir.”

“Cut it a little close, hmm? Did you just wanna be alone with me.” He shot you a wink, and you rolled your eyes.

“It needed to be perfect.” You walk over to his computer, popping the drive in and loading the presentation.

“You smell really good.” He murmured, suddenly right behind you, and you let out a little gasp of surprise as he inhaled your scent.

“You scared me, shit.”

“Are you wearing that love potion shit?”

You chuckle at that. “Love Spell, yes.”

He sighed. “It’s something that reminds me of hot girls in high school.” He mused, playing with your hair errantly.

“That’s so random. Pay attention.” You lean over and press to start the presentation on his large curved monitor. His hand was against your waist, and you smack at it. “Gojo!”

“Assistant.” His voice tickles your ear. You feel desire just from that, and you hate him for what he does to your body.

“If someone comes back in…”

“Who cares. I’m Gojo Satoru.”

“You’re annoying is what you are.”

“You should wear this all the time.” He was sniffing you again, and you trembled in his hold, struggling to keep your composure. You feel yourself losing hold on your surroundings as his hand slides to your curved hip now.

“I should wear something that repels you. Like mosquito spray. Should see if it works for Gojos.”

He chuckled at that. “You’re going to try to avoid me with citronella? What am I a vampire that you need garlic for?”

“Yep, that. With those sharp fucking teeth. I- mnh.” He bit your neck then, and you trembled, pain and pleasure intermingling. He had nibbled before, but he had not just bit you with those damn sharp fangs of his… his…

“Hurt, brat?” He demanded, with that silken voice, and the cool air of the vents above you two shocked the hot and wet spot he had just devoured, making you shiver. “Ohh… you liked it, didn’t you baby girl?”

“N-no.” He bit you again, the same spot, doing more damage. Your hands clenched against the arm that held you, crying out and shivering, leaning so that he had more access. You were a terrible liar.

“No?” He licked the spot he had hurt, and it stung. All of it was shooting down to your pussy, as if it responded to Gojo ridiculously, he seemed to just talk straight to her and not your brain.

“Fuck… yes I like it. A lot.” Your ass arches back against his hard body, unwillingly.

“Good girl, telling the truth for once.” He whispered, kissing your cheek.

“I can't focus… Can we put a pin in this?”

“So fucking businessy ugh.” He brushed his fingertips along the skin he’d just bit, making you shiver.

“I need to know if you like it.” He sighed and pulled away finally, watching the slides for a few moments.

“It’s perfect like usual. Why even show me?” He rolled his eyes behind his shades and stuck his tongue out in the goofiest expression. You cross your arms, tapping your foot.

“It's literally my job to do that, well part of my job. You think it's good?”

“Of course it is. Not like you've ever given me anything not perfect. Can I just inhale that scent again?”

You chuckle, gently pulling out the thumb drive, turning to face him. “Sure, go ahead.”

Gojo moaned softly, and sniffed your neck, sighing happily, then he kissed you, and you pressed against his hard body, little tingles shooting from his lips like nothing you could describe. Yesterday you had not done anything and it had taken so much out of you it was embarrassing. He seemed to know every ounce of you, every sensitive place… how to touch and how much pressure…

Your lips were bold as he leaned you against his desk. You paused for a breath, shaking your head. “We have the work get-together. I need to get ready. If we keep going we won’t show up.”

“Fuck, I forgot.” He let you go, eyes raking down your body. “Want me to buy you an outfit for tonight?”

“You can't just keep buying me clothes, Satoru.”

He scowled. “Why the fuck not. I'm rich as fuck.”

“I…” You trail off with a breathy laugh.. “I have clothes I can wear, you don’t have to get me anything.”

“Mmm, probably some Nun clothes.”

“Bullshit. I have cute clothes! I'll bring citronella and garlic tonight..” You pulled away with a smirk.

“No. Wear this. You like me all over you, anyway..” He caressed your neck with his long fingers.

“Ugh.” You couldn't deny the obvious. But you wouldn't admit it.

“So… you gonna let me buy you drinks if not an outfit?”

“Um, you want to?” He nodded. “Isn't it kinda date-ish then?”

“Would that be so bad?” You had to admit the thought didn't bother you as it once would have.

“No… Not bad.” His brows raised at you.

“The orgasms I give you are so good you're starting to be nice to me. Holy fuck.” You smacked his chest. He laughed.

“Dick.”

“You love it.”

“Do not. ”

He started laughing at you then. “Well, let's get ready. I'm expecting something slutty.” Gojo led you to your desk. You snatched up your purse.

“It's a work thing, I'm not going all slutty.”

“You don't have any sense of fun.” He frowned as you two stepped into the elevator. He pushed a ton of the buttons, like a child wanting to light them up, and you scowled as he deviously looked at you.

“The fuck, Gojo! We'll be here forever ugh!” He laughed maniacally, pressing you into the wall. “You're such a dumbass.”

“A dumbass you wanna fuck.” He kissed you again, and you stopped on each empty floor. You cursed internally, smirking up at him. “Fuck me please Satoru. I can take that dick.”

You were bright red as he mocked you from the other day. “I can't stand you.” You shoved at him, then. He grabbed your leg, wrapping it around his hip, pressing so intimately it made you gasp.

“You know you're the only woman I have ever had to try for?” His other hand was on your face. You froze, blinking up at him.

Why had that not occurred to you before?

Why did that feel good to hear?

“Why try? You have girls in line to suck your dick.” He grinned, glint in his eyes. Another floor dinged. This would take forever.

“Yet I would rather eat you out, then have them suck me off.” You sighed when he grinded his hard cock against you in his jeans, denim on denim, friction making you ache.

“What about me sucking you off I wonder…” He stared down at you in shock, and your shock mirrored his. Did you say that out loud?

Another floor. Jesus let no one be there still.

“Shit. You want to?” He asked, softer. You bit your lower lip, arching your hips up and enjoying how his full lips parted.

You give a little nod. “I haven't before, though, so I might suck at it.”

His smile returned, devilish, and he pecked a little kiss on the tip of your nose.. “You want daddy Gojo to show you how hmm?”

“Daddy Gojo? The fuck.” You shook your head at him. “You’re too much.”

“My dick is.”

“Stuff it. Just kiss me again.” He traces the contours of your lips with his tongue before sliding in your mouth against yours in a push and pull, you took the lead, then he did, like a waltz.

Another floor.

Gojo was great at waltzing.

“Should I make you beg to suck my dick with that pretty mouth, little brat?” His whisper made you wetter.

You grabbed him by the collar of his expensive ass white shirt, then. “I should make you beg.”

“Is this a challenge? Because I'll win.” You snorted at him, kissing him again, and he drank your sighs of pleasure. “You fucking love kissing me. Don't you, brat.”

You loved it more than anything. That scared the living shit out of you. “You are a good kisser.”

“The best?” You flushed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Say it.”

“You love to make me say shit, don't you.”

Another floor.

“I love watching you unravel for me.” He whispered, before his tongue slid back in between your lips. You moan, just enjoying how he fucking felt, how good you felt in his arms. Fuck.

One more floor.

“My little nun is always so hot here.”

He pressed himself against your aching cunt, hard. You cried out, clinging to him. Gojo eases off you then, putting his hand at the small of your back as you finally get to the first floor. You try to adjust your hair, your shirt, flustered and overwhelmed, stepping out of the elevator. Gojo was too much.

“Wear something black tonight. It looks good on you.” He eyed you, and you almost got lost in them.

“I'll wear bright orange, then.” Gojo laughed, rubbing your waist with familiarity as you stepped out of the doors of the office.

“Bitch.” He blew you a mocking kiss as he walked off, all long and lanky like some fucking model on a runway. You found it fucking endearing.

Shit… you really like him. 

What would that even mean… what could even come from it? Anything at all? He was Gojo… you were…

You were gonna wear black.

***

You walk into the little pub, and the vibrant atmosphere of the lively pub immediately envelops you. The warm golden lights that cast a soft glow on the people gathered, creating an intimate cozy little ambiance. The chatter of lively conversations, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter and even some shouts as people watched the game fills the room was a cacophony mixing with the music playing.

It’s super busy in there, so your eyes search for your group as you smooth down your little black pleated skirt. You see them then, Shoko, Suguru, Nanami, even Kiyotaka who looked just stressed and out of place you mused. Sukuna was there with them all as well, decked in a suit, unlike the rest of the casual group, all sitting around a big wooden table.

You don’t see Gojo until your eyes hit the polished wooden bar, then you see Miwa and Gojo sitting next to each other.

You pause, and notice the pretty bartender flirting with Gojo as Miwa just gushed, sipping on a little red drink. You were curious if she was even old enough, but you then remember Japan has a different drinking age. As you navigate through the crowd, you see Sukuna and Suguru are about to play darts.

Sukuna calls out your name and waves, so you head to them with a bright smile. “Ooh, remind me to have us go out more often if you’re dressing like that.” Sukuna drawled, eyes shooting straight to the little corset top you wore and the ample cleavage that showed. You flushed.

“Sukuna, you’re such a pervert. No way to talk to a lady.” Suguru took your hand and winked at you, making you do a spin. “Gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Suguru. And I guess thanks, Sukuna?” You huffed, and he laughed, hand on your back.

“Play darts with me?” He asked, and you grinned.

“Oh I’ll stomp your ass.”

“Oh really?” His smile was cocky, everything about Sukuna was cocky though, even more than Gojo if that was possible. Next to the calm Suguru they were like night and day.

“Mhmm. Need a drink first though.” Sukuna gestured to the little table full with a bucket of beer. “No, like liquor.”

“Oh shit, she’s really come to the party.” Shoko came up to you all then, as did Nanami, who shot you a little half smile.

“Hey guys!” You gave Shoko a little hug.

“You came out! I’m glad Miwa got hired, now you can actually breathe a little.” Shoko said, and you wanted to feel grateful. But then…

“Gojo just didn’t want her to leave.” Nanami said, and Sukuna’s brows raised.

“I could have stolen you away, goddammit. I lost my chance.” He frowned, wrapping a big arm around you. You snorted.

“You’d probably work me harder.”

“Oh I’d work you all right.” He shot you a wicked wink. Everyone yelled at him, yanking him off you. “Fine, fine. Let me get the lady a drink would you all? I’ll be a gentleman.”

“Yeah right, I’ll grab her one.” Suguru took you by the hand, and you laughed as Sukuna frowned like a kid who’d lost a toy.

“My hero.” You teased, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“I got you, no worries.” He held out two fingers, waiting for the bartender to stop flirting with Gojo. “Fucking Gojo, can’t take him anywhere.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes, but Suguru studied you seriously.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“What? No! I… mean… no?” You chewed your lip, leaning against the bar, sighing then. “Why would you say that, Suguru?”

“I can see by your reaction that it's past liking.” He tilted his head, long hair falling just over his shoulder.

“It’s complicated.” You sigh, trying not to look at Gojo or Miwa.

“Well, he certainly likes you. A lot.” The bartender came, and he ordered you your favorite cocktail.

“What? No. You see him.”

“He’s liked you for a long time. But like a child yanking on a classmate’s hair, he was mean to you. He’s kinda stupid when it comes to that shit.” He rolled his eyes, and you felt a gaze from behind you, intense. You stiffened. “And he’s staring. Hmm.”

“Is he now?” You tried to act unbothered, waving a hand errantly. Suguru Geto saw right through you.

“I’ve known him since middle school. He is one of my best friends… but he really can be just a dick. But yeah, he was pretty worried you’d leave. Not to say that isn’t mostly because you’re the best, but something else is ticking in the empty little head of his.” He tapped his temple.

“Am I so obvious?”

“You aren’t, I am just good at reading people. Just be careful, yeah? I love Gojo but I wouldn’t want you to be hurt by him either.”

“I don’t intend to like… date him? I don’t think… does he date really or just fuck? Also I don’t think I’m really his type?”

“His type is not his type. Not really. He’s a confusing little shit. He would get serious with a good whack if you need me too." You snorted, peeking behind your shoulder. Another bartender was flirting with him.

“He really is a little shit.” You giggle, sipping your drink. “Are you playing darts too?”

“Ooh yes, let’s do it. Let’s team up on Sukuna.” He chuckled and you two went back over to where the group was. Nanami and Shoko had a deck of cards out, playing a drinking game, and Shoko sure could take shots. She was beating the crap out of him.

You went over to the dartboard as Gojo and Miwa made their way back. Miwa ran over to you, gushing.

“Oh my gosh you look so hot!” She cooed, complimenting your look. You smiled with a thank you and complimented her little outfit as well, a little mini skirt and a cute blouse with a tie.

“You look super pretty, Miwa!”

Gojo stared at you as you spoke, eyes raking you in, and he came up to you and surprised you by kissing your cheek softly, giving you a little one armed hug around the waist, bringing you against his hard chest. You inhaled his cologne as it mixed with his natural scent, woodsy and bright. You tried not to sniff him. Your colleagues were a little more quiet, watching you two.

“You look hot as fuck.” He said, and you laughed a bit, softly. Gojo’s compliments were always giving you whiplash. He pulled back to look down at you, and it was like it was just you two, and you hated that.

“Thank you.” You looked up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, and he looked good as fuck. Like a million bucks, as always. “You look good too.”

“Of course I do.” He shot a wink at you, and your eyes rolled.

“Team up with us.” Suguru Geto smacked Gojo hard in the back of his shoulder blades, winking over to you as well. He had some plan, you were sure.

“Who’s playing?” Gojo didn’t have on his sunglasses, and those goddamn eyes made it hard to focus as he stared right at you, intensely.

“You could wait and play with Miwa. It’s me, Suguru and Sukuna.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm. He scowled at you. Suguru chuckled.

“Oh no… I don’t play darts. I will go play some cards!” Miwa shot you all a little wave and bounced over to where Shoko was still annihilating Nanami.

“Who’s on which team then?” Sukuna asked, wrapping an arm around Gojo, who had his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll team up with Suguru.” You piped in, and Gojo’s pretty blue eyes narrowed, while Suguru smirked.

“I’d love to team up and stomp their asses.”

“Oh no… I must play against Gojo. You’re with me.” Sukuna yanked your arm, pulling you to him.

“Then let me and her team up. We will stomp your asses.” Gojo winked, and yanked you to him.

“Am I some fucking doll or something?” You rolled your eyes, and Sukuna and Suguru laughed. Gojo just studied you, grip tight on your arm. “I wanted to play with Suguru.”

“Oooh, dirty.” Sukuna winked, and you flushed.

“Oh god… not like that!”

“You’ll be fine without your bestie.” Gojo huffed, and you and Suguru frowned, making Gojo sigh and shake his head, Sukuna just grinning like the whole Devil. Gojo led you over to the bucket with all the darts, peeking down into it with you. “What color, Princess?”

Fuck you liked those pet names. Your mind went awry for a minute, as you pressed against him, leaning forward, just a brush of his hard body against you making you both tense a bit. “Hmm. Black for me.”

He snatched up some for you, blue darts for himself. “I like the outfit.”

His voice was husky against your ear as he bent over you to snatch them all up. You felt your body overheat. “Thank you. Told you I have cute outfits.”

“That corset… it’s doing things.” He put a firm hand on your waist, and it burned through the layer of the corset then, branding you for him.

“Good things?” You teased, smirking up at him. His face was oddly serious, his grip a little tighter as his eyes raked in your breasts, pushed up high in the outfit. Your mind is wild with memories of him biting your nipple, grabbing them…

Fuck.

“Very good things.” He answered, and you had forgotten the question. “The skirt is also doing things.”

“Is it? It’s not even short.” You mused, for it was well past mid thigh. He errantly slid a hand up your thigh a bit, making you bite your lip hard, lest an embarrassing cry escape your lips.

“Makes me wanna sit you up on a sink in the bathroom and make you come on my face.” It was a whisper, and it made you shiver, desire shooting hot through your body. “You’re so goody goody you’d never.”

“I… you… shit.” You grumbled, and he laughed, taunting you. “I am not a goody goody. You’re just a whole ass deviant.”

“Maybe I am.” You all got waved over, and Gojo didn’t take his hand off as you walked back. You noticed eyes on you both. “How good are you at darts, little brat?” He asked softly.

“I’m great. I have your picture at home and I aim for your forehead.” You said with a wink. He scowled, and Sukuna and Suguru burst out laughing.

“I have one too.” Sukuna wiggled his brows.

“You’re a dick. And you’re a bitch.” He let go of you then, and you grinned.

“Let’s do it.”

As you teamed up with Gojo, taking turns, you all surprisingly made a great team. Gojo’s precision was next level, and you came in clutch with your bullseyes. With every dart thrown, the tension escalated between the teams, and soon nearly everyone around you was invested in the game.

You and Gojo worked together seamlessly, your movements synchronized as you aimed for the bullseye and the triple twenties. Sukuna and Geto fought back with equal ferocity, their darts whistling through the air.

It was fucking fun.

You took a sip of your drink and wiped the sweat off your brow, as the end was approaching. “Holy fuck this is a whole battle.”

Gojo chuckled, taking your now empty drink. “It really is. Let’s grab you a drink. I was supposed to buy you one you know.”

“I think you were buying Miwa one when I got here.” You brought it up casually, and you two excused yourselves, leaving the two men to grab their own beers and take a breather.

“Such a jealous little bitch.” He gripped you hard, as you all stood over at the bar, and Gojo raised long fingers of the hand that didn’t have you in a vise.

“I’m not at all. It’s a fact. Suguru got me one.” You smiled sweetly, batting your eyelashes, pressed against him.

“You just really like to make me fucking mad.” He said through his teeth. You shook your head but you kind of did enjoy it, you had to admit, hiding your smirk as the bartender came, ignoring you completely and simping for Gojo. “Give me a pink pussy for the lady.”

“A what?” You asked curiously.

He grinned, and the bartender frowned, looking at you, assessing you as if you were now her enemy. Gojo sat you up into the tall bar stool, bending down a bit, leaning his elbows on the bar. “She didn’t like you.”

“Because she wants your dick.”

“Who doesn’t? And don’t say you. You want it most of all.” The little pink drink came, and Gojo smiled charmingly at the pouty bartender, handing it to you with a straw. “She didn’t scowl at Miwa, they got along actually. You’re intimidating.”

“I’m five foot nothing, Gojo. I’m not a model or anything to be worried about.” You take a sip of your cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors dancing on your tongue. “Oh fuck, that’s yummy.”

“See? Gotta trust me. And you don’t see yourself like others do. Like I do.”

“I know, I know, you think that I would tie you up and powerpoint you to death.” You nudged him a bit, and he was between your thighs, making you suck in your breath, horny as fuck in the dark bar.

“I’d let you.”

“You’re really… on me. In front of everyone.”

“Ah, embarrassed? Shy?”

“I just don’t want to give the wrong idea.”

“What’s that?”

“That we’re more than just… I don’t fucking know. What even are we, Satoru? Makeout work buddies?” Your brows knitted together. Your head hurts just thinking of it. You had no answers.

“You always need to define shit. You’re so fucking uptight. I should loosen you up some more.” And then his hand was under your skirt, and your eyes met, yours wide, his lidded. His thumb found your clit with disturbing quickness, and he raised his brows as he felt around. No one could see the action, he was slick, but you felt…

God you felt a lot.

“Are these…” He played with the material, and red tinted his cheeks, leaning further towards you.

“Shut up.” You were as red as a tomato. His grin was triumphant.

“Aw, you’re such a good girl, wearing crotchless panties just for me. ” He whispered viciously, you shook your head, begging your pussy to not get stupid wet around him. It didn’t listen. “What, for someone else?”

“Maybe.” He scowled, then, and snapped the elastic hard, making you wince as it smacked the side of your lips. “Ow! Dick!” You hissed quietly.

“Admit they’re for me.” He crooned the words, and you scowled back at him.

“Maybe I just wear them for no good reason.”

“You sure the fuck do not. You wear boy shorts.”

“How the fuck? Pervert.”

“Say it.”

You shoved at him, and he snapped the elastic on the other side, you had to grind your teeth against the pain. “Yes. For you. Ugh.”

He grinned like he’d won the damn lottery. “Oh my, such a dirty nun you have become. What will the church say?”

You couldn’t stop your little laugh, and his hand slid down your thigh, leaving little trails of goosebumps wherever he touched. “You’re so annoying, Satoru.”

“You love it. And no, I wasn’t trying to fuck Miwa, by the way. I was just buying her a drink and talking.”

“I wouldn’t care.” You lied. You hated how much you cared. “It’s your life, I don’t claim to have some say in it.”

He frowned. “Maybe you should show how you really feel. But you’re too afraid to say it.”

“I…” You sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

“Afraid of feeling things?” He asked softly, his demeanor just a little different for the moment, more serious. You sighed.

“Yeah, I am. Feeling things I shouldn’t.”

“What, wanting to suck me off got you crying ?” You blinked back emotion, gulping, looking down. “Look, I’m kidding-”

“The experiences I had… it was like a couple times and it was like I was pressured? So I kind of told myself I just wouldn’t do that until I actually got with someone I cared about. And well… now I’ve got your hand under my skirt and it’s really fucking confusing.” You hated how it all spilled out. Gojo was silent, and you sipped your drink with a shaky breath. “Go ahead and laugh.”

“So sex is special to you now, because before it wasn’t, and you regret it.” You blinked a bit in surprise.

“Yeah, that summed it up quickly. Shit.”

“You talk too much. So you’re confused, you want me but without some weird feelings or something?”

“No. Feelings will come for me on my end, and then… then it’ll be weird? Especially if I leave.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.” His hand slid down to your knee, grasping it firmly. “So you have feelings for me and you’re all scared like a little chicken shit. Aw that’s kind of cute!”

“I didn’t say I did! Yet. I… I just don’t know. And it’s not like it would be returned on your end. I know how you are.”

“You don’t know shit. You’re dumb as fuck for how smart you seem.” He yanked you down, making him so much taller than you again, towering over you, intimidating and tantalizing you at the same time. “Why don’t you take things as they go rather than getting in that head of yours?”

“Shit.” You sighed. The alcohol started to hit a bit, making this enigmatic handsome fucking man make a lot of sense. Your body felt warm, tingly. “Let’s just go play.”

He rolled his eyes at your non answer, and took you by the hand back to the little dart game you all were playing. As the final round approached, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, from the game somewhat but moreso from Gojo’s words. The weight of the words you spoke pressed down upon you, but you refused to let it fuck your game.

You met Gojo's gaze as you had the final shot, his eyes conveying something serious but also his smile was playful. With a deep breath, you hurled your final dart towards the board. It landed squarely in the bullseye, securing you and Gojo’s victory. You turned to face Gojo, your eyes sparkling. He snatched you up in the air and spun you.

“That’s my girl!” He stood you back down in front of him, and you giggled, turning to face Sukuna and Suguru. Sukuna was furious, Suguru had a smile playing on his lips as he watched you both.

“Fuck you both.” Sukuna flipped you two off, sulking, and you all laughed around him. You ended up at the table with everyone, and you just honestly had fun. Fun . For the first time in a while, there was a little thrill as you and Gojo sat together, his arm casually around the back of your chair.

“Did you drive here?” Gojo asked you after some time. You shook your head.

“I took a ride since I knew I’d be drinking.”

“I’ll have Kiyotaka drive us. Anyone else need a ride?”

“Not with you two. You’re just like a married couple bickering.” Sukuna grumbled. You sputtered, and Shoko and Nanami raised brows at you both. Gojo leaned back in his chair with a laugh.

“We don’t bicker! We… well shit.” You sighed in defeat.

“She’s secretly in love with me. Don’t embarrass her.” Gojo said, and you smacked at his shoulder.

“You wish.” You all continued on until everyone started to get ready to go, hugging and saying goodbyes to each other. Gojo took you by the hand, and you all went to the car Kiyotaka had already started.

“Food?” He asked simply. You leaned back in the car a bit, humming to yourself, feeling light and airy, your head just a little fuzzy.

“Hmm. Maybe. I didn’t eat much today.”

“You smell good enough to eat.” He teased, and before you knew it, you were on him, straddling his lap indecently in the back of the car, as Kiyotaka drove on. His hands were on your waist, and you were grinding on him, fucking obscene, you didn’t care. You had no barrier but Gojo’s own pants. He hissed, halting you. “Fuck.”

“S-sorry. Carried away.” You pause, burying your face  in his neck. “Gojo… can I ask you something?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Do you like me?”

He broke into a laugh, and you buried your head further, his arms around you, chest shaking with laughter. “Do I like you?” You nod, not facing him. “Yes, I fucking like you, silly girl.”

“Not just my super wet pussy?” He laughed harder, yanking you back so you could face him. Your eyes were unable to look into those blue depths, so you just looked at his glossy lips.

“That’s definitely a bonus. Not gonna lie. What, you think I do this…” He kissed you then. “And don’t like you?”

“You don’t like everyone you fuck. Do you?”

“Fucking is just fucking sometimes. Sometimes it’s more.”

“We haven’t… so you… do you…”

“Having trouble using words?” You sigh, nodding. “This isn’t like you. Usually you won’t shut the fuck up.”

“I know.” Your head went buried in your hands now. You didn’t wanna ask it, and you didn’t wanna care.

“I’m not fucking anyone currently, if that’s your concern.” He stated it plain and clear, but you were mortified. “Thought you didn’t care, hmm?”

“It’s not something I need from you. If we… if we fuck or whatever this situation becomes, as long as you’re careful, I don’t expect you to just not fuck others. You’re Gojo Satoru. They’re everywhere. And I know that.”

He paused, sighing, gently pulling your hands down. “I don’t wanna fuck anyone but you right now. So I haven’t. I’m not dying from no pussy for a week, I promise I’ll survive fine.” He smiled, a little sad, caressing your face.

“You haven’t?”

“You seem shocked. No, I'm pretty occupied with you. You’re so annoying, that’s what it is.” You smiled a little tremulously. “There, that’s better. Why don’t we get some food for you and sober you up, hmm?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” You burrowed back into his neck. “You’re comfy.”

He chuckled. “Am I?”

“Mmhmm. And you’re actually really thoughtful.”

“Shh, keep that to yourself. Don’t ruin my reputation.”

You two end up snatching up food through the drive-through. You make it to your home pretty quickly. “Do you… wanna come up?”

He blinked, eyeing you up and down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. To eat?”

“Yeah… you gonna make Kiyotaka drive all night though or do you wanna let me sleep there?”

You flushed. “I can let you crash. You can wear my pink pajamas.”

“I’ll look so beautiful.” He fluttered those long silvery lashes. You giggled, and got out of the car, waiting for him to tell Kiyotaka. He sped off. “He’s happy.”

“You work him too hard. Come on.” You two trudge up to your apartment, and you flick on the lights. “Let’s drink water too.”

“That’s a good idea.” You bend over and grab the water bottles, and turn to find Gojo’s body bent over, head tilted. You flush. “I am gonna be really fucking mad if you bent over like that at the damn bar.”

“I didn’t.” You tremble a bit as you hand him the water, snatching up the food and heading to the couch.

“Good because I just saw pussy and all.”

“Did not!”

“Did so.”

“Hush.” You hand him the fries and burger he’d ordered, popping on music. You nibbled on the fries, moaning. “Yum!”

“You listen to this?” He asked softly. You giggled.

“Mmhmm. Even before I moved here I listened to a lot of Japanese pop. This is from my favorite Anime.”

“Ah, the guy all over your room?”

“Mmhmm. He’s a whole sorcerer. He’s my anime husband.” You nibble some more and he just watches you, amused.

“I’m jealous.”

“He’s fictional. It’s okay.” You pat his shoulder with a giggle.

“You know… I think we’re kinda on like our third date.”

“We haven’t been on one yet!”

“What do you call this?”

“Not a real one.”

“Okay, brat, then I will ask you for a real one. My boat isn’t big enough, hmm?” You snorted, but your heart fluttered. A date… a real one… with Gojo?

“Your boat is awesome. Okay, I’ll go on a date with you. Let me guess, that award ceremony?”

“No, but I still want you to come to it. How about tomorrow? Real date. And then you can come to my house and help me work on my speech?”

“Business and pleasure.” You winked, popping another fry into your mouth. He grinned.

“You’re getting it.”

“I’ll go.”

“Yeah?” You nod. “Knew it. How could you turn me down?”

“On second thought…” He scowled at your laughter. “No, no, I will go. It sounds fun even.”

“I’m always a good time.” He kissed you, softly. You sighed, easing away.

“Let’s see what clothes I can find you.”

“Can I shower too?” Gojo in your shower? Jesus fuck…

“Of course. I have one.” He smirked. “That was so dumb…” You smack yourself on the head. “Who doesn’t? I mean yes you can. Oh! I remember I have your clothes. You can just put those on to sleep.”

“See, I already have clothes in your apartment.” He backed you into the wall with shocking speed. “Soon I’ll have my own drawer.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shove at him. He kisses you, slowly, softly, and you tiptoe, your arms reaching around his shoulders, saying fuck anything and everything. His kisses consume you.

“Shower with me.” He whispered, and you felt yourself falling further and further, into a confusing horny mess. “I’m so good at washing hair. Want me to wash yours? You’ll love it.”

“That sounds nice.” Your face was buried in his chest.

“My little nun is all shy tonight.”

“Not a nun…” You turn and step into your bathroom, which you don’t think Gojo has seen yet. It was decked out in pink marble everything, and your shower was actually big and nice, pretty white tile that was a bitch to keep clean and a waterfall shower head, something you splurged on. You started turning the water until it was hot enough. “How hot do you like it?”

“Scalding.”

“Same.” You giggle, and then put two fluffy towels on the wrack. He smirked. “Yeah they’re pink too.”

“I look great in pink. I won’t complain.” He started undressing, shutting the door behind him, and you did the same, turning. He stopped you as you went to take off the panties, hands on your hips. “Fuck those are hot. Allow me.”

Gojo kneeled behind you, sliding your panties down your thighs, and your legs trembled when he kissed the ass that was bare to him, the same spot he’d smacked the shit out of the other day. He eased back up, and you walked in the shower, letting the hot spray start to hit you, he followed, and you looked at him, his beautiful body, always hiding in long sleeve suits.

“You’re gorgeous.” You murmured, hands trailing down his abdomen, seeing his full hardness you had not even gotten to hardly touch. He was huge, thick, veins wrapping around his cock, so long you doubted you actually could take him. Gojo shut the glass of the shower, coming against you under the waterfall that was pouring down on you both.

“I am gorgeous.” He chuckled at you, wiggling his brows. He started peeking at your toiletries, snatching shampoo up. “You’re beautiful.” His hand gently traced the curve of your body, like an artist with a brush. “Come here, you’ll like it.”

You let him lather your hair up, slowly, massaging your scalp, and it did feel good, so fucking good. “Ugh I needed this.”

“You need a good massage too. You’re a tense bitch.”

“Fuck off.” You whisper it though, leaning back as he uses the pull down head to spray the suds out.

“I like it, it makes that pussy extra tight.”

“Shut up, Gojo.”

Your words are just sighs. He slicks some conditioner in your hair, piling it up on your head. You peek up at him and switch spots. Now he’s fully under the spray. The droplets hit his hard body and fall in little rivulets. You’re feeling bold. You slide a hand against him, and his abdominals tighten. He doesn’t stop you  from gently stroking his cock this time, he just eases his back against the tile wall, watching.

You do know how to do this properly, you think, and you twist gently at the top, watching his face as you stroke him. Your pussy is aching but you want to make him feel just a bit of what you do. You get on your knees, and he pauses you, tilting your chin up, hot spray and steam falling around you both. He says your name ever so softly then.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” He asked. It made you pause. When it came to pleasuring you, he had no care, he made you beg. But now, he asked about you, worried look almost on his face. You nod.

“I want you in my mouth.” He cursed.

“Put this on the hottest thing I’ve ever seen or heard list.” He caressed your face, tilting your chin up. “Your knees okay though?” You nod again, loving how thoughtful he was, how surprising it was.

“Tell me a little what to do?” You ask nervously, and he slides a thumb across your lower lip, making you open a bit.

“You can lick it first. Fuck.” You lick his tip, tasting something salty amongst the hot water beating down. “Open.” You do. He grabs you by your slick hair, and guides himself into your mouth, hot and so hard. He moaned, and took one of your hands, wrapping it around him. “I’m big so use your hand too. Your mouth can’t do it all. Go up and down.”

You start sliding your hand with your mouth, taking a moment to get a rhythm going, and your saliva and the water made things slick, he slid in and out of your mouth with ease. His hands were enwrapped in your hair, and he was moaning, echoing in the shower, turning you on more and more with each sound, each tensing of his hands. You tried to take more but he eased back a bit.

“Don’t hurt your throat.” He murmured. You peeked at him. “Play with yourself for me, would you?” You flush, finger sliding down to your aching clit, puffy and sore with desire. You were slick. You moan and he swore.

You look so fucking gorgeous, on your knees, those pretty eyes looking up at Gojo as you take his cock, your moans vibrating around him, your mouth so hot and wet. You cry out as you play with yourself, little tears making your eyes glisten, and Gojo has to lean against the wall as you suck harder, making him closer and closer, but he wants it to last, wants to keep watching you on your knees. Taking him so good in that mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” He whispered, caressing your face. You felt yourself losing control at his words, and your hand struggled to keep going as you sucked him harder, he grew impossibly big in your mouth. “Where do you want me to come? I’m really fucking close.”

You locked eyes with him, not answering, instead bobbing your head down as much as you could go, relaxing your throat and taking in so much you were choking on it, tears hit your eyes and you coughed. He paused you, tilting your chin up, those blue eyes and dripping lashes drinking you in as you drank in his cock.

“Brat wants all my come does she?” You nodded, crying out, and he stopped your motions. “Ask for it.”

“You’re the worst.” He smirks down at you. Your eyes look up seductively, and your hands slide up to his thighs, gripping, watching the desire fill his eyes. “Let me drink your cum, Gojo. I want it.”

“Goddammit.”

He was shaking, his usually stable big ass hands, were trembling against you, before he wrapped a hand in your hair, and shoved into your mouth, fucking it. He eased back as he came, you knew so he did not hurt you, and he pulsed in your mouth, as hot sticky liquid started to shoot into it.

“Take it all, just like that. You’re doing such a good job.” You sucked it all, swallowed every bit of it, with his praise, and felt him soften slightly, gasping as you flicked your tongue on his tip. “Fuck. Jesus fuck.”

You eased up, and he helped you. Your knees were red, your lips were too, fucked raw like your throat. He picked you up with ease, slamming you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. You kissed him, and felt him start to lose himself in you too. You both drank in each other's sighs, moans, under the hot water that pounded down on you.

“How’d I do?” You asked softly, and his lips parted.

“How’d you fucking do? You’re a whole dick sucking champ.” You snorted in laughter. “I can’t put things elegant or what the fuck. You…” He paused, thinking of words.

“It’s okay.”

“No. Not okay… it was mind blowing. And I’m not exaggerating. I’m literally fucking spent.” He kissed you, softer. You moan quietly as his kisses trail down your neck.

“Good. I have to be the best at everything you know.”

“My little perfectionist.” He pressed firmer against you. “Want me to return the favor?” He asked softly, and you shook your head. “Why not?”

“It was enough for me to pleasure you.” He grew serious, studying you. Then he shook his head a bit, as if shaking himself out of some deep thoughts.

“I bet you’re close.” He found your clit, holding you with one arm, sliding it in little circles. You cry out, arching into his touch, shivering, as he brings you to a climax within moments. “You’re too pretty when you cum. Can’t not do it.” He kissed you softly, easing you down. Your legs were jello yet again.

“Should have made you beg, dick.” You giggled as he turned off the water, then gasped as he smacked your ass hard, while wet. “Ouch!”

“Watch that mouth, fucking brat.” You liked it all too much. Everything about him, even his fucking dick, one you hadn’t even had in you yet. How fucked would you be when that happened?

And now you are going on a real date.

With Gojo, a man you knew you didn’t hate, not really.

One you felt shit for. Confusing shit.

You were in deep now.

Chapter 7

Ao3 chapter:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141269194#workskin

[heliads]

ok so… i’m totally obsessing over Newt from TMR rn but i’m not sure if u still write for him🤧 but if u do i was thinking maybe something like during bonfire night the reader has had too many special drinks from Gally, accidentally confesses to Newt and lists everything she loves about him and then Newt gets all flustered and stuff (he’s so cute omg) but the reader is too drunk to go back to their own hammock so then Newt carries reader to their hammock but ends up sharing a hammock and then the reader doesn’t remember anything the next morning and then i’ll let u decide the rest😭

gally's special brew as a plot device >> it will always be famous to me

masterlist

In roughly thirty seconds, you’re going to reach a milestone you never thought possible. You’ve been waiting for this for a while now, counting down the days and hours and minutes like you were going to find yourself anywhere other than right here when your self-imposed timer went off. All you’ve got to remember the date is a memory, but given the fact that you only recall so many of those, it was easier to place than one would expect.

An alarm goes off across the Glade, ear-piercing klaxons rattling off of the high stone walls surrounding you. The rest of the boys around you start to amble towards the source of the noise, the Box newly arrived from who knows where, but you stay put for the time being, just breathing in the moment.

One blond boy next to you, your closest friend and favorite person here, nudges you in the leg with his foot. You’re both sitting in the unruly grass, ignoring the press of the green strands against your arms and calves. You have a habit of always wanting to keep him within reach.

“Why aren’t you racing towards the Box?” He asks.

You tilt your head to the side, staring up at the sky. Robin’s egg blue dappled with clouds, it’s the only pocket of space outside the Walls that you’ll likely ever know. “Today marks one year since I showed up here for the first time.”

Newt whistles through his teeth. “Shoot, already? Feels like time has flown. I swore you came up just last month.”

“No, I’ve been keeping count. Twelve months and I’m still here.”

Newt winces. He made a promise to you at the very start that he would get you out in six months, then, when that deadline came and went, he lengthened it to a year. The oath was only sworn because you were nervous about this place when you were still a Greenie and unused to the idea of living and dying here in endless repetition. You’re no happier about that fact now, but you are more used to it, at least.

“Well,” he starts off, “maybe you’re still here, yeah, but Minho and the other Runners are getting closer to finding a way out, I swear. Minho says they’re this close to having mapped the whole thing, then we’ll have an escape route for certain. Just give it another year. You won’t even notice the time passing, I promise.”

It’s kind of Newt to try to distract you again, even though you both know by this point that it’s useless. Minho is getting closer to traveling every pathway of the Maze, yes, but what Newt isn’t mentioning is how little the Keeper of the Runners actually is to finding something useful. Whenever you ask Minho what he’s learned about how to get out of here, he only ever comes up with a blank slate.

Still, harping on that doesn’t exactly make for a good time, so you’ll let yourself play along with Newt’s idea of your inevitable escape from this place for now. He’s losing hope even faster than you, even if he doesn’t tell anyone. It would be good to keep up the pretense.

You eye his leg, the one with the limp, and nod. “Yeah, next year for sure.”

Newt sits in silence for a moment or two longer, then stands up carefully, offering a hand to you. “Come on, then. We’ve got a Greenie to stare at and stuff to unpack from the Box, no time for musing. Besides, we’ve all got to get ready for the bonfire later tonight.”

You accept his offer of help, and when you’re on your feet once more, your smile is back. “I forgot about the bonfire! Oh, that’ll make everything better. Always does.”

Newt grins. “You’re just saying that because it’s the one time a month Alby will let all of us get proper wasted and skip work for the afternoon.”

“Of course I am,” you laugh, “I want to have fun! Is that such a terrible thing?”

Newt slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as the two of you walk lopsidedly over to the Box opening. The other Gladers have already crowded around the opening, but there’s enough space for the two of you to peer in at the befuddled newcomer inside if you squeeze past a few Track-Hoes.

“No,” he murmurs later, once you’ve almost forgotten what you were talking about, “I don’t think it is.”

Damn right. You’ve looked forward to each Bonfire Night of your full year here with just as much excitement as everyone else. The soaring flames, the delighted shrieks and shouts of your friends, plus Gally’s special brew, everything about the celebration is a joy to behold. You can watch Gally kick the asses of people who should have known better to challenge him, or observe the Greenie as he tries to figure out his name.

Or, better yet, you can sit in a circle of your friends and tell jokes that get progressively worse as the lot of you get progressively more tipsy and tired. The night wears on, the stars burn themselves out above you just trying to catch a glimpse of your magnificently roaring fire, and all is well, as much as it can be around here.

At some point, you look up and you’re sitting alone with Newt towards the outskirts of the gathering. You don’t remember quite when that happened, but you’ve refilled your glass enough times that the memory loss sort of makes sense. Does anything here, though? No, not at all. Not ever.

Newt’s grinning over at you, saying something that you have to focus extra hard to hear. “Are you lucid again?”

“Not entirely,” you beam up at him, “Have I had a lot to drink tonight?”

Newt grimaces. “Probably more than you should have. You’ll be regretting it tomorrow, I can promise you that. Sorry for not cutting you off earlier.”

You shake your head a little too wildly and have to pause for a moment to blink the stars out of your eyes before continuing. “No, that’s not your fault. You don’t have to watch out for me all the time.”

Something almost like hurt plays upon Newt’s features, mixing with the warm glow of the firelight, and it makes you rush to say something so he stops looking so unhappy. “Only if you don’t want to watch out for me, that is. I like having you around. Makes me feel better.”

“Really?” Newt asks, amused.

“Really,” you confirm happily. “You’re my favorite person here by far. Minho teases me about that a lot, actually. He says I should soldier up and just tell you that, but he can’t bully me anymore, because I’m talking about it right now, aren’t I? He’s right, though, I do like you. Oh– I was thinking, Newt, and– and I think I’m okay, staying in the Glade forever, if I’ve got you here with me. You’re the best thing about this place.”

You hadn’t meant to ramble on like that, but the words came easily enough from your throat, and Newt seemed like he really wanted to hear what you were saying, so you went ahead and let him. 

Newt sits for a few minutes in stunned silence before clearing his throat a little too loudly. “Um. Well, I think you should get to bed. Like, now. I think you’re drunk.”

“No,” you protest, “well, I am drunk, yeah, but I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk. I mean it, Newt. I really do.”

Newt’s expression softens. “I know you did, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed anyway, though. I think some rest would be good for you.”

“Alright,” you decide. 

Newt stands up. You try to start walking back with him, but your feet refuse to cooperate on the uneven ground and you end up tripping more than you should. Eventually, Newt laughs quietly and picks you up, easily carrying you back to your hammock. He tries to set you down but you’re seized by the overwhelming panic that he’ll leave you here alone and you complain vehemently.

He’s still in a good temper, though (is it not wonderful to be needed?) and instead shifts so he’s lying down in his hammock instead, you on his stomach. You whisper goodnight to him and he says goodnight back, then a beat and a half later, did you really mean what you said? About me, that is? About how you–

You can’t really pick up what he’s saying, though. He was right about you needing rest, because the gentle swaying of the hammock and the soft beat of his heart under your head is just enough to send you off to sleep. Darkness pulls you under in an instant, and you’re rocked away to the tune of the crickets chirping somewhere in the distance and Newt still mumbling questions against the top of your head.

You can sense your hangover looming like dark clouds on the horizon, signaling a true storm of a day about to wreck you for good, but for now it’s just in the distance, not quite yours, not yet. The terrible feeling is warded off by an odd sense of calm and quiet. It’s warm now, warm and comfortable in your hammock, which is strange. Usually, you wake up cold on mornings in the Glade, but not today. It makes you want to snuggle down further, push off consciousness just a little longer.

Then your hand connects with something that isn’t one of your few allotted threadbare blankets or the knots of your hammock, something soft, like skin. A hand, one that isn’t yours. Your eyes fly open and– well, you don’t remember this, but you’re not exactly going to complain.

Newt is lying next to you, still asleep. You are curled up beside him, must have fallen asleep with your head on his chest. One of his hands is just touching yours, the other is cupping the back of your head to pull you closer to him.

Immediately your brain splits into two warring factions. One half wants to run away quickly, figure out what happened and why you’re here. This isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing, you know. Shuck, Alby would have a fit if he saw the two of you like this. Probably enough to throw you in the Slammer for a couple of hours.

The other part of yourself wants to stay here forever, to close your eyes and make Newt wake up first and handle it. You haven’t felt peace like this in a while. It’s just the two of you, soft and sweet and mostly folded over in sleep. Why should you disturb this? Disturb him? He’ll just be unhappy if you wake him and force him to realize that you’re here. Probably. Unless he’s the one who let you sleep in his hammock, which is more likely and far more terrifying.

Your issue is solved when Newt shifts slightly, rocking the hammock, and wakes up at last. You quickly shut your eyes and feign sleep, but judging by the movement of his chest as he laughs, you were caught in the act.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.” He says.

You reluctantly open your eyes. “Maybe. By any chance, do you know why I’m here and not in my own hammock?”

You might just be kidding yourself, but you swear something almost like disappointment crosses Newt’s face. “You were pretty drunk last night,” he says at last, “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

It’s a decent explanation, but that doesn’t explain why he’s looking at you like he really, really wants you to remember something about the events of the most recent Bonfire Night. “What did I do last night?” You ask slowly.

Newt shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything, trust me.”

“Then what did I say? You’re looking at me like you’re going crazy.”

Newt furrows his brows in a moment of indignation. “What? I’m not– I’m not looking at you like that. Anyway, you might have said a thing or two. Maybe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Newt, if you keep withholding information from me, I’m going to rock the hammock so much you fall on the ground. What happened?”

He has the audacity to laugh at your threat, as if you weren’t completely serious about it. “Alright, alright. You might have told me that you liked me.”

Your sense of terror, which had faded briefly after Newt woke up, is back in full force. “I did what?”

“You told me you liked me,” Newt repeats, “and I thought– well, you were drunk, so I thought you didn’t mean it, but–”

“I did mean it,” you whisper.

Newt’s eyes are wide when you dare to risk a glance back up at him. “Oh.”

That’s a bad oh. Has to be. You move to get up and try to run away before he can look at you like that anymore, but Newt tightens his grip around your waist, forcing you to lie back down. “Wait, wait. Don’t go. I like you too.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, “Have for a while. Minho teases me about that too, by the way. No wonder he seems so frustrated about it, he has to listen to both of us moping around even though we both like each other.”

You laugh. “That would be annoying, yes. He has to be happy now, though, we finally told each other about it.”

“That we did,” Newt says, and you can feel the upturned crescent of his lips as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Maybe you spent a whole year in the Glade without ever seeing rescue. Maybe another year will pass without anything, or maybe five, or ten. Maybe you’ll never leave at all. Still, you’ve got your reasons to be happy after all. They start with him.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @w1shes43, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[maleyanderecafe]

Bleeding Canvas (Visual Novel)

Created by: Frogcake

Genre: Horror

I think it's pretty fun when yandere games have a twist that slips right under your nose. It makes playing the game a second or even third time more interesting when you go "oohhh, that makes a lot of sense!" Bleeding Canvas does this pretty well and not quite in the way that you would expect, and you can really see the various foreshadowing of this in some of the more weird interactions.

The story starts with You (yes, you) in class sleeping, and having a dream about your crush, Mikey. The professor wakes you up, and while walking home, Mikey asks if he can walk you home. The next day, you go back to attend your art lessons class as people come in. It seems that you and your best friend Julia had an argument recently and rumors are starting to spread. Mikey interrupts and the two talk about art for a bit before heading to your other classes. Mikey wakes you up after you fall asleep in class today and brings you home. Worried about the events of a serial killer in town, you decide to follow him to make sure he's safe- only to come back into an alleyway to watch him killing your friend Julia. Freaking out, you run back home, with Mikey there to see you. He admits that he's enamored with you and that he wishes that you were to be his muse, despite feeling unworthy (good, I love yanderes with self esteem issues), asking if you love him back.

If you admit that you do, Mikey will be incredibly happy, and you can either ask Mikey to drag the body back to your place or to go mourn the body at the alley.

The next day at Art class, a bunch of students ask you if you know what happened to Julia, to which you contemplate about throwing Mikey under the bus, but decide not to. Mikey thanks you for this and the two of you continue your classes, cooking and then finding out that one of your professors was found dead. You end up going home afterwards and the next day you are painfully hungry with no food to eat. On the news, it seems like the professor who died's body was tampered by two different people. You receive a poem from Mikey in the mail, which deeply disturbs you. While at class, you notice that Mikey isn't there and due to your lack of food, you nearly pass out, eventually being called out by one of the professors to go home and sleep. At night, Mikey breaks into your home and when you awaken, you see Mikey on your couch. Mikey seems remorseful for killing someone. Mikey finds out that you are actually a cannibal (and a murderer), explaining why you wanted Julia's corpse. He is incredibly happy about this, believing that the two of you are meant for each other. Mikey seems to have started killing because of your murders. Mikey gives an ultimatum, asking you to be his muse, and stating that if you refused, he would turn both of you into the police.

Rejecting his love initially can lead to actually being able to throw Mikey under the bus. To which afterwards, Mikey drags you into an alleyway and kills you.

Rejecting walking home with him the first time and going to mourn your friend Julia will instead lead to Mikey at night coming into your house and waking you up. We see that he's trying to get some blood out of you, and in a panic, you freak out, causing you to impale yourself on his knife. This leads to a panicked Mikey as you slowly bleed to death.

Rejecting him entirely will lead to Mikey simply leaving, no longer coming to class and you having mixed feelings on him.

Personally, I always think it's really cool to have a MC that is evil or otherwise pretty twisted. Not only does it give them character, but I think it also makes their relationship with the yandere that much more interesting. There are actually quite a lot of hints that the MC is a cannibal, though most of them are not super obvious. The MC seems to eat food at a generally very animalistic manner, and when they do run out of food, they don't seem to go buy things from the grocery or eat a snack or anything. There's also the detail that they are really good at cooking class, the fact that it seems there are two killers on the loose, the fact that they are self conscious about smelling bad (and the fact that their apartment also smells bad a lot of the times), and of course, asking Mikey to drag the dead body into their apartment, and then never mentioning what happened to it again. There are also a lot of other small details, but there are a lot of hints that there's something up with the MC that isn't normal. I can assume that the player constantly falling asleep is likely a product of not being able to eat that many people, considering the effort to kill and then consume an entire person without getting caught. I honestly only caught on that something was off about the MC when they asked to drag Julia's body back into the apartment (since... who would do that?) and the fact that they just very casually accepted Mikey as their boyfriend, stating that "well, all guys have a few flaws, right?". It's pretty neat that Mikey seems to have fallen for the MC because of the murders and has their murders based off of theirs, making them a perfect killing duo. Honestly, I really hope to see more games with a more twisted MC because it makes the story much more interesting.

Mikey as a yandere seems to just be the player's crush until they catch him murdering their friend. From what I can tell, aside from being a muse type of yandere, he also is a worshipper type, sending mail to the MC and eventually finding out that he was inspired by the player themselves. It seems pretty obvious that he would responsible for the killings, considering we see that he kills our friend Julia, but as a turn we do actually find out that there are actually two killers on the loose! While Mikey does seem to not want to hurt the player, he will if he is threatened, as shown in the ending where we do out him to others, and that he has been stealing the player's blood for his own art projects. I am curious what happens after the true ending when Mikey outs the player for being a cannibal, and I kind of hope that they end up being a duo and just going from town to town killing and eating people because that would just be cool. Not exactly sure what happens in the "Good End" when he kinda just disappears, though I'd like to think that he simply just watches the player from afar and continues to stalk them. Plus, his design looks pretty cool and I'm a sucker for his lovestruck face when he confesses to the player.

Overall, a solid and pretty fun game with a twist. The saving system is a bit weird though since it only allows you to save at the end of every day (and I think the game would really benefit from a skip button for players who want to get all endings, like me), but overall, very fun.