#he's a friend to me now <3 but i still think he Knows something...

[mononijikayu]

triassic love song — gojo satoru.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.” The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile.  “They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation au!;

WARNING/S: edo japan era, nsfw, angst, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, engagement, hurt, physical touch, implied character death(s), natural disaster(s), mourning, pain, grief, happy ending, depiction of natural disaster(s), depiction of suffering, depiction of character death(s), depiction of violent destruction, depiction of grief, depiction of suffering, mention of implied character death(s), mention of death(s), mention of suffering, mention of destruction, mention of earthquake-related destruction, fiance! gojo, fiance! reader, reincarnated! gojo, reincarnated! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.6k words

NOTE: this song has ruined me beyond understanding. paris paloma, your album was just insane like im sorry. the fact that she wrote a song about the triassic cuddle inspired me to write something similar and i just??? i can't help myself. ive been so crazy about this song that i just decided, you know what. this is great. this is just something i would in fact like to bawl my eyes out writing. and i did. i did that. and i hope you cry with me and enjoy it. anyway, i love you all so much <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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IT WAS ENJOYABLE TO BE TOGETHER. IIt was forbidden to be together at this time, with the curfew in place, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when it came to him. The world outside was still, bound by rules meant to keep order, but within the quiet sanctuary of your family estate, the constraints of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant. Inside, warmth and anticipation filled the air, thick as the lingering scent of incense that wafted through the halls. The soft glow of lanterns bathed the room in a warm light, casting shadows across the delicate shoji screens, and reflecting off the polished wooden beams and traditional tatami mats beneath you.

Gojo Satoru sat beside you, his presence magnetic as always, but tonight, something was different. His signature smirk still played at the corners of his lips, and his bright, sparkling eyes glimmered with mischief. But beneath that playfulness was an undeniable depth, a new layer of emotion that wasn’t there before—an unspoken excitement, a shared understanding that you were no longer just childhood friends.

You were now betrothed.

Bound by the ties of engagement that your noble families had arranged, it felt as though a long-awaited dream had finally come true. And though you had known each other all your lives, this new bond between you carried a weight of its own, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. The happiness you felt was undeniable, shared in the way Satoru’s hand occasionally brushed against yours, in the subtle glances that said everything words couldn’t.

“You’re quieter than usual, don't you think?" Satoru remarked with a teasing lilt, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something more serious. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, as if daring you to speak first.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his intense scrutiny. “I could say the same about you, hm?” you replied, trying to match his teasing tone, though your voice betrayed the flurry of emotions swirling within you.

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning back on his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, it’s not every day you get engaged to your best friend!” he said, his tone light, but his expression softened as his usual bravado gave way to sincerity.

That sincerity took your breath away, and for a moment, the reality of the moment hit you fully. You weren’t just sneaking out to spend time with him as you had countless times before. This was different. This was a promise, one sealed by the love you’d always shared but never fully acknowledged until now.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know?” you admitted quietly, your eyes meeting his. “For us to be more than just... childhood friends.”

Satoru’s playful demeanor softened even more, a rare seriousness taking over his expression as he reached out to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, and the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“Me too.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For a long time.”

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. The world outside was still and silent, but inside this room, the air seemed alive with the energy between you. The gravity of the situation settled in—this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the beginning of something much bigger, something that both excited and terrified you.

“You always did like breaking the rules.” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Staying out past curfew, sneaking into my room like this...”

Satoru grinned, his usual confidence returning. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, right?” he quipped, though the softness in his gaze lingered. “Besides, how could I stay away from you tonight? Our first night as an engaged couple... I had to be here.”

You laughed, but it was a soft, breathless sound, the kind that came when words failed to fully capture the emotions coursing through you. “I’m glad you’re here, Satoru.” you whispered.

He smiled, that warm, heart-melting smile that was reserved just for you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Not the rules, not the expectations placed on you by your families, not even the looming responsibilities of your engagement. It was just you and him, sharing a quiet, intimate moment that you knew you would cherish forever.

“I brought something for you.” Satoru said after a brief pause, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a small bundle of paper. “I wrote these for you.”

You blinked in surprise, watching as he carefully unfolded the papers. “Poems?”

He nodded, the tiniest hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, something you rarely saw from him. “Yeah, don’t laugh!” he added quickly, though the look in his eyes told you he trusted you completely. “I’ve been working on them for a while...”

You took the papers from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. The sheets were neatly folded, each one carefully written in his distinct handwriting. It touched you deeply to know that he had taken the time to craft these for you, that he had poured his heart into something so personal. Something for you, with all his love.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I could never laugh, my dearest.” you said softly, your voice sincere. “Thank you, Satoru.”

"I made these for you, my beloved." he whispered, pulling out one of the carefully folded parchment from your grasp and unfolded it. "Listen to me, alright?"

His slender fingers traced the delicate paper before he began to read softly, his voice like a gentle breeze:

"Beneath the cherry bloom, I wait  

for you, a light that never fades.  

In silence, your name takes root in my soul—  

a promise written long before time."

His tender words wove into your heart, each syllable filled with the love he had always held for you, now finally given shape. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat that matched your own excitement. The future felt certain, and the night was perfect. You kept listening to his voice, letting it guide you into the tender slumber of the night.

Satoru leaned closer to you, watching your expression, his bright blue eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and affection. Your orbs gazed at the tender strokes of his writing.

His calligraphy had always been so beautiful, but to form such words in order to capture not just the feelings he had for you, it was even more beautiful. And to have him read it with such affection, such love — for you and only you…..what could be more beautiful? What could be more perfect, more delightful?

But then, the ground beneath you shifted, a low rumble reverberating through the tatami mats. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible, but within seconds, the shaking intensified. It was subtle at first, a low rumble that made the lanterns flicker.

Satoru paused, his brow furrowing. Before you could ask, the ground shook violently, and the delicate house groaned under the pressure. Screams erupted from other rooms, echoing through the halls as the tremor grew stronger.

"Satoru?" you whispered, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, not from love, but from fear.

He was already moving, his hand gripping yours tightly. “Stay with me, my beloved.” he commanded, his voice steady, though his eyes flashed with a seriousness you had never seen before. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The room shuddered violently as the earthquake hit full force, and you could hear the distant crashing of objects falling in other parts of the house. Screams erupted outside even louder—voices of your family, the servants, all caught in the chaos of the sudden disaster. And then all the sudden, it was eerily quiet. And that made your heart drop to your stomach 

For a moment, you thought that it would finally be over. But then, the earth beneath you trembled once more. You squealed as Satoru let his body encompass your own with the enveloping of his whole body on yours as the world crashed against you both. The walls were swaying left and right, the roof tiles were shattering one after another. It was chaos.

"Hold on to me. Don’t lift your eyes." he said, his voice calm but firm, even as the world quaked around you. “I’ll protect you.”

You clung to him, your heart pounding in fear as the floor shifted beneath your feet. His grip was unyielding, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, shielding you from falling debris as the shaking intensified.

“I’ve got you, my beloved.” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “D–don’t worry.”

You feared when he stuttered, that he had gotten hurt. But he did not falter. His fingers gently stroked your back, trying to calm your trembling as the earthquake raged on. You could hear the distant crashing of porcelain and wood, your ears ringing from the harsh sounds of the destruction. But in his arms, you felt an odd sense of safety amidst the destruction. Because it was your Satoru holding you, protecting you. Because you’re together. 

As the tremors finally subsided, Satoru’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go. His breath was shaky, and when you looked up at him, you saw a rare flicker of fear in his usually carefree eyes. He swallowed hard before giving you a small, reassuring smile. You were still stunned, your head shaking as you tried to make sense of the world.

"Seems like the earth itself wanted to remind us of its power." he joked softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. He was just as afraid, perhaps even pained by some injury he would never show you. “We’re….we’re alright, my beloved. Don’t worry.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still clutching his robes as you pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The night was no longer perfect, but in that moment, with Satoru holding you close, it felt like nothing could tear the two of you apart—not even the earth itself.

The earth, which had momentarily stilled, seemed to shift again beneath you, this time more violently.More catastrophic, more angry and volatile. You screamed as you held tightly to him, his body wrapping itself against you once more. The walls of your room groaned, beams creaking as the tremors returned with a vengeance, fiercer than before. The floor shook so hard you could barely keep your balance, even in Satoru's arms.

He pulled you even tighter against him, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”

You could feel his muscles tensing beneath his robes, his usually easy going demeanor replaced by something more protective, almost desperate as his entire body forced itself to become a shield against anything against you. What remained standing of your ancestral home rattled more easily around you, dust falling from the ceiling in thick clouds. Outside, the screams grew louder, more frantic as the destruction worsened. Perhaps, it wasn’t even your family any longer. Perhaps it was the town, perhaps it was a neighboring village. You do not know anymore. And that’s what frightened you even more.

You could hear the unmistakable crash of something heavy—perhaps a roof beam—collapsing nearby. Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. The wide, elaborate shoji doors rattled on their frames before they were blown open by the force of the quake. Your own room felt like it was being torn apart piece by piece. One of the wooden beams above groaned under the strain and, without warning, splintered and fell, hurtling toward the two of you.

Your beloved Gojo Satoru reacted in an instant, pushing you down and covering you with his body just as the beam crashed into the floor where you’d been trying to stand. The air was thick with dust, and the scent of earth and shattered wood filled your lungs, choking you. You shook as your eyes slowly opened to see your fiance pinning you down with his body shielding you.

“Satoru!” you gasped, your hands gripping the front of his robe, desperate to make sure he was unharmed.

“I’m fine, my beloved.” he muttered, though you could hear the strain in his voice. His arm was still braced above you, shielding you from any further debris. His other hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into the crook of his neck. “We need to move. The house isn’t going to hold.”

You nodded against him, heart pounding in terror. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. The childhood home that had always felt so safe, so untouchable, was crumbling around you, and the only solid thing left was Satoru. He was all you had, you think. Everything…Everything was gone. Your body was shaking. 

He pulled you to your feet, guiding you toward the door, but just as you reached it, another powerful tremor sent the ground pitching beneath you. You fell forward, and Satoru caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as the floor buckled and cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the splintering wood beneath your sandals, the whole structure of the house breaking apart beneath the relentless force of the earthquake.

“Satoru, we need to get out—” you started, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of another beam collapsing behind you, followed by a sickening crash from outside the room.

“I know, I know.” he said, his voice tight with focus as he scanned the surroundings. "We’ll find a way out. I promise."

He led you toward the door again, but just as you stepped forward, the entire room seemed to tilt. The floor caved in with a horrific crack, and suddenly, you were falling. Satoru’s grip tightened as you both plummeted into darkness, the floorboards and debris collapsing into the space below.

“Are you hurt?” Satoru’s voice cut through the chaos, his hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you close, checking for injuries in the dim light. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the fear he usually kept hidden so well.

“I’m okay,” you gasped, though your body felt battered and sore.

He exhaled in relief, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment, his breath shaky. “We need to get out of here. Stay close to me.”

Even now, with the world collapsing around you, his determination didn’t waver. He pulled you to your feet once more, and together, you began to make your way through the rubble. The house was a maze of fallen beams, shattered walls, and debris, the once-beautiful estate reduced to ruins in a matter of minutes.

The aftershocks still rumbled beneath your feet, making every step treacherous, but Satoru kept you steady, his arm around your waist, guiding you through the wreckage. The air was thick with dust, and the distant screams of those outside continued, filling you with dread for what might await you once you escaped.

As you neared what used to be the outer courtyard, the quake hit again, this time more violent than any before. The very ground seemed to split open beneath you, and with a loud, earth-shattering roar, the outer wall of the estate gave way. You barely had time to scream before the floor cracked beneath your feet, and you fell into darkness once more.

This time, Satoru’s grip on you tightened, and you felt his body pull you against him, sheltering you as the ground gave way entirely. You hit the ground hard, the pain radiating through your body, but before you could react, you felt the warmth of Satoru’s arms around you, shielding you from the worst of it.

“Don’t leave me.” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held you tighter than ever. “I won’t let anything take you from me—not this, not anything.”

In that moment, as the world continued to crumble around you, his words were the only thing that kept you grounded. No matter what happened next, as long as you were with him, there was still hope. You clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, as the tremors finally began to subside, leaving the two of you alone in the wreckage, but together.

You landed hard, the wind knocked out of you as your back hit the ground. The tatami beneath you was torn, and debris scattered everywhere, yet Satoru still held onto you, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, as though his grip alone could shield you from the crumbling world. The force of his embrace had absorbed much of the fall, but the impact still left you breathless. For a moment, everything was a blur—dust and darkness clouded your vision, and the deafening roar of collapsing beams filled the air.

Your body throbbed with pain, and panic surged in your chest, but even through the chaos, the warmth of Satoru’s body against yours anchored you. His presence, solid and unyielding, kept you grounded in the midst of the chaos.

"Satoru..." you gasped, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, his voice steady despite the tremors still shaking the earth beneath you. His breath was ragged, but his grip on you didn’t falter. His white hair, now disheveled and covered in dust, clung to his forehead, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—remained focused on you. “Are you hurt?”

You tried to shake your head, but your mind was still reeling, struggling to catch up with what had just happened. The earthquake raged on, though the initial violence of it had passed. The ground trembled beneath you like a sleeping beast disturbed from its rest.

Satoru shifted, pulling you up as carefully as he could. The house around you was nearly unrecognizable—wooden beams had collapsed, shoji screens were shredded, and parts of the roof had caved in. The once peaceful and warm room where you had shared your engagement was now in ruins, littered with broken objects and torn memories.

The sound of screams echoed from outside, faint but piercing. Servants. Family. It was hard to tell who, but the urgency in their voices cut through the haze of shock that clouded your mind. Your breath caught in your throat, panic gripping you once more.

“My family... my parents.” you muttered, scrambling to get up, but Satoru stopped you, his hand on your shoulder, firm yet gentle. “Satoru—”

"Wait," he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of authority. "We need to get out of here first. It’s not safe."

He tried to keep you calm, his steady hands guiding you through the debris, but you could see the tension in his posture. He was on high alert, his senses sharp as he glanced at every unstable beam, every shifting pile of rubble. He was scanning for danger, but more than that, he was trying to protect you from seeing the worst of it—the destruction, the death.

But as you stumbled through the wreckage of what had once been your home, you couldn’t avoid the horrors that surrounded you. Bodies. Littered through the halls, some crushed beneath fallen beams, others lying still in the open. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world spun around you.

"Satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled away from his protective hold. "Where are they? My parents... my siblings?"

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes darting around, trying to keep you moving forward, away from the bodies, away from the worst of it. But you knew. The silence was louder than any scream. You could feel tears fall from your face and that broke his heart to see.

"Satoru!" you cried, your voice breaking as your legs buckled beneath you. "Where are they?"

He knelt beside you, his hands cupping your face as he gently forced you to look at him. His bright blue eyes were filled with an overwhelming sadness, but he tried to hide it, to be strong for you. He had to be strong. He had to. He can’t be weak, not right now.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to go. We need to find shelter. I’ll take you to my family home. They’ll know what to do.”

You nodded, though the words didn’t fully sink in. Your body was moving on autopilot now, your mind numb to the world as Satoru pulled you back to your feet. With every step, the destruction around you became more apparent, more real. The walls were crumbling, the air thick with dust and smoke, and the scent of burning wood filled your nostrils.

Together, you navigated the ruins of your estate, stepping over debris and through the remains of lives that had been lost in the quake. GojoSatoru kept a firm grip on your hand, leading you with a determination that seemed almost impossible given the circumstances.

But even he couldn’t hide the way his shoulders tensed, the way his jaw clenched when another body appeared in your path, forcing him to shield you from the sight.

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IT WAS A CHALLENGE, TO GO AND LEAVE THE DESTRUCTION BEHIND. The sky deepened into a somber shade of dusk as you and Satoru finally reached the estate’s edge. The once proud gates, symbols of security and honor, now stood twisted and mangled, crumpled by the sheer force of nature’s wrath.

Beyond the gates, the town stretched out in a nightmare of ruin—buildings reduced to heaps of rubble, streets fractured and littered with debris, and the air thick with the lingering scent of smoke and dust. The cries of the wounded and the wails of those searching for lost loved ones echoed through the broken streets, a chorus of despair that filled the silence left in the wake of destruction.

“Keep your head high,” Satoru urged, his voice low but firm as he tightened his grip on your hand. “Don’t look. Just… don’t.”

But it was impossible not to look. How could you not see the devastation, shared by all? Every corner of the town had been touched by this catastrophe, and every person who remained alive carried the weight of loss. It was a destruction understood by all, but none more deeply than you at that moment.

The memory of your home—once filled with laughter, warmth, and the presence of family—now lay in ruins. Your parents, your siblings… their fates were unknown, swallowed by the chaos. You hadn’t seen them, and the hope of finding them alive was growing fainter with every passing moment. Satoru’s words rang hollow in your ears, even as you clung to his hand for strength.

He guided you through the crumbling streets with a fierce determination, always positioning himself between you and the worst of the wreckage. The buildings, once grand and vibrant, had become tombs of stone and wood, each step revealing more of the town’s shattered soul. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some half-buried in rubble, others left untouched by the debris but claimed by the quake nonetheless. It was too much, too overwhelming.

Every time you stumbled, your legs trembling with fatigue and grief, Satoru was there, catching you before you could fall. His presence was like an anchor, keeping you steady amid the storm of devastation that swirled around you. His hand never left yours, his touch a silent promise that you weren’t alone in this. You didn’t have to face it all by yourself.

The survivors—those who had managed to escape the collapse of buildings or who had emerged from the wreckage—followed behind you, a somber procession of hollow eyes and ashen faces. Their steps were slow, heavy with the weight of shock. No words passed between them, no cries for help—only silence and the occasional sob as they moved like ghosts through the streets, trying to find some semblance of safety, of life, in this broken world.

Your heart ached for them, for their pain, but your own grief consumed you. The memory of your family’s voices, the warmth of your home, felt so distant now, like a dream you had just woken from. And yet, with each step you took beside Satoru, you realized that this nightmare was real, and there was no waking from it.

The earth beneath your feet still trembled occasionally, aftershocks reminding you that the worst might not yet be over. Each tremor sent a fresh wave of fear through your body, your grip tightening around Satoru’s hand. He responded in kind, his hand strong and reassuring, though you could sense the turmoil roiling beneath his calm exterior. His family, too, was somewhere in this mess. Their fate hung in the balance just as much as yours.

As you made your way through the gates, leaving behind the wreckage of your estate, you couldn’t help but glance back one final time. The place where you had grown up, where you had shared laughter, joy, and the news of your engagement just hours ago, was now unrecognizable. In the span of mere moments, everything you had known had been reduced to rubble, leaving behind only echoes of the life you had once cherished.

“Satoru…” your voice cracked as you spoke his name, the words barely audible over the distant cries. He stopped, turning to look at you, his eyes softening with concern.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall unnoticed. “I know it’s hard. But we’ll make it through this. We have to.”

His resolve was unshakable, but you could see the grief hidden behind his determination. He was trying to be strong, not just for himself, but for you. His family’s estate lay ahead, yet you both feared what you would find when you arrived.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the land in shadow, you continued onward, the fire of Satoru’s presence the only thing keeping you from sinking into despair. The path was treacherous, littered with fallen beams and shattered stone, but Satoru led the way with careful, deliberate steps. He kept you close, his arm around your waist now, guiding you over the broken streets as you navigated what felt like the remains of the world.

Every glance revealed more heartache—broken homes, toppled lanterns, and the pale, lifeless faces of those who hadn’t made it. But Satoru never let you linger, gently urging you forward each time your gaze began to drift toward the horror around you.

Finally, you reached his family’s estate. Or what remained of it. The grand structure that had once stood proud and formidable was now a heap of collapsed roofs and shattered walls. The once beautiful garden, where you had shared many moments of happiness, was now a twisted, chaotic mess of uprooted trees and scorched earth.

Satoru stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning the destruction with a silent, composed fury. The pain was etched into his expression, though he quickly masked it as he turned to you, his voice low but firm.

"We’ll make it through tonight," he said. "We have to survive, no matter what."

In that moment, even as the world crumbled around you, there was no fear in his eyes—only determination. For now, all you could do was follow him. Follow him through the darkness, trusting that somewhere, beyond the destruction, hope still lingered. 

As you finally reached the outskirts of the Gojo estate, the enormity of the destruction hit you again. The town below had not been spared either. Smoke rose in the distance, and the ground was littered with rubble, buildings half-collapsed, and people wandering aimlessly, searching for loved ones.

Satoru didn’t hesitate. He pulled you forward, his grip never loosening as he led you through the streets toward his family’s home. But when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was even more devastating.

His family estate, much like your own, had been reduced to little more than a broken shell. The grand gates had collapsed, and the once beautiful gardens were torn apart, now little more than mounds of earth and stone. The house itself had fared no better, with parts of the roof caved in and walls shattered.

Satoru’s face paled as he took it all in, his hand tightening around yours in a desperate attempt to remain calm. But you could see it in his eyes—the grief, the disbelief. This was his home. His family. And now, it is gone.

For a long moment, he stood still, his gaze fixed on the destruction before him. His breathing was shallow, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. But then, with a sharp breath, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

As you both began your journey toward the Gojo family estate, the weight of the day settled heavily on your shoulders. But Satoru’s hand never let go of yours, a silent promise that even in the face of unimaginable loss, you would survive this—together.

When you and Satoru finally reached the outskirts of his family estate, the sinking feeling in your chest returned with full force. What should have been a place of refuge, a sanctuary from the horrors you had just fled, was nothing but devastation. The Gojo estate, once majestic and proud, had fallen to the same fate as your home.

The gates were twisted and mangled, barely hanging from their hinges, and the walls that had once stood tall now lay in heaps of rubble. Smoke rose from what remained of the manor, a bitter scent of burning wood and stone hanging in the air. The destruction was so complete, so absolute, that it felt like the very earth had swallowed everything whole. The silence was deafening.

Gojo Satoru froze at the sight, his grip on your hand tightening until it almost hurt. You looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his usual brightness dulled to a vacant stare. His family, his home....everything he had known, everything he had grown up with. All was gone. Nothing was left but the earth where it all once stood.

You tried to say something, to offer words of comfort, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. More tears could only pour out of your eyes from then on. All you could do was squeeze his hand, hoping he would feel your silent support. He didn't need to hear your words right now; he just needed to know you were there.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his blue eyes scanning the destruction as if trying to comprehend it, trying to find any sign of life among the wreckage. But there was nothing. Just like at your estate, the earthquake had consumed everything.

Finally, Satoru exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. But even in his grief, he didn’t break. He couldn’t—not with you depending on him. He glanced down at you, his eyes softening with a kind of sadness you had never seen in him before. 

Satoru stopped for a moment, turning to you with a look of determination in his eyes. “We’ll make it through this,” he promised, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to hide. “We’ll get some place safe here, and I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. You hear me?”

You nodded, though the world felt unsteady beneath you. The future that once seemed so bright, the engagement that had filled your heart with hope, now felt overshadowed by the tragedy that had befallen your lives. Still, with Satoru’s hand wrapped securely around yours, you knew one thing for certain—no matter what came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

“We need to stay warm tonight.” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not safe to wander around in the dark. We’ll make a fire here, and then tomorrow, we’ll figure out what to do.”

He led you to a relatively clear patch of ground, away from the worst of the rubble. The sky was darkening, and the air had grown cold, a biting wind cutting through your torn clothes. Satoru quickly set to work, gathering what dry wood he could find, his movements steady and focused despite the grief that must have been tearing him apart inside.

You watched him in silence, too exhausted to help, too numb from everything that had happened. When the fire finally sparked to life, its warmth was a welcome reprieve from the cold that had settled deep into your bones. You sat beside him, huddled close to the flickering flames, the only source of light in the endless night.

Your Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He simply stared into the fire, his expression distant, lost in thoughts you couldn’t fathom. His hands, usually so relaxed and playful, were tense, gripping his knees as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.

But then he turned to you, his gaze softening when he saw the exhaustion written on your face. Without a word, he pulled his outer robe from his shoulders and wrapped it around you, tucking it gently against your chin. He tried to do it, smiling like nothing happened. As though to comfort you even in all this suffering. And yet, you could see it all in his eyes. He was exhausted, he was in pain. And he didn’t know what to do.

“Sleep, my beloved.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep watch.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that he needed rest just as much as you did, but your body betrayed you. The exhaustion, the grief, the sheer weight of everything you had been through—it was too much. You nodded weakly, laying your head against his shoulder as you curled into the warmth of the robe.

Satoru shifted slightly, easing you into a more comfortable position so you could lie down near the fire. His hand rested on your arm, a protective gesture that reminded you of his earlier promise. Even as the world fell apart around you, Satoru Gojo was still there, watching over you.

As you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, Satoru leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. His lips lingered there for a moment, as if he were afraid to pull away, afraid that something might take you from him if he let go.

“I’ll keep you safe, my beloved.” he whispered against your hair, his voice trembling with the weight of his vow. “No matter what happens. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but his resolve was unshakable. He couldn’t save everything—his home, his family—but he would save you. That much, he was certain of.

As you slept, Gojo Satoru remained awake, his eyes scanning the horizon, alert for any sign of danger. The devastation around him was complete, but his focus never wavered from you. You were his world now, the one thing he had left in the midst of the ruin.

The night stretched on, cold and unforgiving, but Satoru didn’t move from his spot by your side. Even as the grief gnawed at him, even as the weight of everything he had lost threatened to crush him, he stayed strong. For you. Because no matter what came next, no matter how uncertain the future had become, Gojo Satoru had made a promise—and he would keep it.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THE YEAR 2018 WAS AN INTERESTING YEAR FOR DISCOVERIES. You remember reading about it in the newspaper on your way to university—the discovery of two lovers found in an eternal embrace, huddled together in a shoreline cave, their bodies preserved for three hundred years by the elements that had claimed their lives. 

The volcanic eruption, the earthquake, and the tsunami that had ravaged Japan centuries ago were some of the worst disasters the country had ever known, obliterating entire villages and swallowing countless lives in an instant. And yet, even in the face of such unimaginable destruction, these two had remained together, their bond undisturbed by the passage of time.

Standing quietly in front of the memorial, you felt the weight of their story settle around you. The air was still and somber, carrying with it the distant hum of waves crashing along the shore. The stone monument before you was simple yet profound—a silent marker of the love these two souls had shared, a love that had endured in the most unimaginable of circumstances. Their bodies had been found in the ruins of a household long buried by the mud and debris, a household much like the ones surrounding this coastline, now reduced to scattered memories.

You had followed the story from the beginning—the day the archaeologists uncovered them from the earth, the painstaking care they took in revealing the remains. The headlines had drawn attention, not because of the tragedy alone, but because of the story those two bodies told.

There were no names. No clues as to who they had been, what their lives had looked like before the disaster struck, or even how they had ended up in each other’s arms when the end came. But it didn’t matter. Their identities weren’t needed to understand the significance of what had been found. What mattered was that they had faced their final moments without fear. They had faced the end together, with love.

It was that thought—the resilience of love in the face of overwhelming disaster—that had touched you most deeply. In a world where so much is fragile and fleeting, the strength of their connection had remained, even after centuries had passed. It was as if their love had transcended the destruction, as if they had chosen to defy the disaster by holding on to one another in their last breath.

You stepped forward, placing your hands together in silent prayer. You wished them peace, a kind of peace that transcended the tragedy of their death, that honored the love they had shared.

You prayed that their spirits had found rest, and that wherever they were now, they were still together, watching over the place where they had once stood. The offering you placed at the memorial was simple, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, symbolizing purity and remembrance.

"I pray that you'll always be together, the two of you." you murmured, your voice soft, barely louder than the breeze that rustled through the trees around the monument. "Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace, and that your love is still as strong as it was in those last moments."

You stayed there for a while, the silence of the memorial surrounding you, offering its quiet comfort. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene, a contrast to the deep sense of loss the place carried. But you didn’t feel sadness. Instead, there was something almost beautiful about it—knowing that even in the face of disaster, these two had been together, and their love had transcended time. As you prepared to leave, footsteps approached from behind. You turned slightly, curious to see who else had come to visit this quiet, forgotten place.

A man with striking white hair and bright blue eyes under the rim of his glasses stood at the edge of the memorial, his head bowed in silent prayer. He was tall, his presence commanding even though he moved with a quiet grace. His features were sharp, but softened by a kind of deep, unspoken sorrow. He knelt down beside the monument, laying a single white flower on the stone, his fingers brushing the surface with reverence.

You watched him for a moment, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though you couldn’t quite place it. The way he stood there—tall and composed, with an air of quiet reverence that just seemed to draw you in.

There was something almost ethereal about him, as if he was intrinsically linked to the story of the lovers you had come to honor. The connection felt deeper than mere coincidence, as though his presence was a significant part of the narrative that had touched you so profoundly.

His white hair glowed softly in the fading light, and his posture was relaxed yet dignified, embodying a calmness that contrasted sharply with the turmoil you had felt as you reflected on the lovers’ fate.

His eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene, as if he was offering a deeply personal tribute to the souls who had been found together in their final moments. The sense of connection was so strong that you could almost feel it emanating from him, a silent bridge spanning the centuries between his presence and the lovers' tragic end.

You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his moment of solitude. Yet, there was something compelling about the situation—an unspoken invitation to acknowledge the shared significance of this place and the story that bound them all together. Your curiosity and empathy drove you to speak, despite the quietude that hung between you.

“Excuse me.” you began softly, breaking the stillness of the memorial. Your voice was gentle, barely a whisper against the backdrop of the crashing waves. “I couldn’t help but notice… There's something about you that feels so familiar, so connected to this place. I… I’ve been deeply moved by the story of the lovers found here, and I can’t shake the feeling that you share a connection with them.”

The man turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and understanding. He seemed to consider your words for a moment, his expression thoughtful and measured. There was a softness in his gaze, as if he had been waiting for this moment, this conversation, even if he didn’t quite know why.

“Oh.” Gojo Satoru whispered back, his cheeks tinged with a flush of surprise, as if your words had caught him off guard. He seemed momentarily at a loss, his usual confidence replaced with a bashful vulnerability. “Yeah, I… I saw the news, and I thought, I just had to come. It felt… it just felt right, you know? To come here and see them off, to wish them well.”

There was a sincerity in his voice, a raw honesty that struck a chord. You could see that this wasn’t just a casual visit for him; it was something deeply personal, a moment of reflection and respect that went beyond mere curiosity.

“I see…” you mumbled, your gaze softening as you looked at him. A smile slowly spread across your face, touched by his heartfelt gesture. “That’s kind of you to do.”

Gojo Satoru shook his head slightly, a rueful smile on his lips. “Ah, not… not really,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “If anything, I think you were more kind. You brought them white chrysanthemums and everything. You probably had more of a proper prayer for them than I did.”

You waved off his comment with a small laugh, the sound light and airy in the quiet of the memorial. “Oh, not at all. I think… I think your intention was purer than mine. You came here just on a feeling, an instinct that something was right about being here. I was… I was interested historically before I was here emotionally, you know?”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. “I guess we both had our reasons,” he said softly. “But in the end, it’s the connection that matters. Whether we came here out of personal feelings or historical interest, it’s our respect and acknowledgement that count.”

You nodded, feeling a shared sense of purpose in your conversation. There was something profoundly meaningful about how your paths had crossed at this place, driven by a mutual respect for the story of the lovers and a desire to honor their memory. The distinction between your reasons for being here seemed to dissolve in the face of a greater truth—that both of you were here because of a deep-seated respect and a wish to pay tribute to the enduring power of love.

“So……” Gojo continued, a slight smile returning to his lips, ���I’m glad we met here. It feels like the right place for this kind of encounter, don’t you think?”

You agreed, feeling a warmth in his words. “Yes, it does. It’s like the universe brought us together in this moment to remind us of something important.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, something like that. It’s nice to know that even after so much time, and despite all the changes and challenges we face, there are still moments that can bring people together in such a profound way.”

You stood together in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared understanding settling around you. The memorial continued to stand as homage to the lovers’ eternal bond, and in that quiet, sacred space, you felt a connection that transcended all the limits given by the bountiful universe.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.”

The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile. 

“They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

There was something in his tone, a weight to his words, that made you wonder if he was speaking from experience. You gave him a respectful nod, choosing not to pry into the emotions that seemed to flicker beneath his calm exterior.

The two of you stood there in silence for a while longer, both paying your respects to the nameless lovers who had defied death with their love. The sun continued to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the memorial. Finally, the man rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes before turning to you.

“Take care, stranger.” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the sorrow that had lingered moments before. Then, with one last look at the monument, he began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light like a beacon.

As you watched him go, something tugged at your heart. You didn’t know who he was, but in that moment, you felt as though you had shared something important with him—an unspoken understanding of love and loss, of holding on to someone even when the world falls apart around you. 

Somehow, there was something stirring within you—a feeling that you couldn’t let him just walk away, not without knowing more. There was something about him, an invisible thread connecting you, as if fate had brought you both to this quiet place for a reason.

"Wait! Hey, mister!" you called out softly, taking a few steps toward him. The man paused, turning back to face you, his expression curious but calm.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, with a gentle smile, you extended your hand. "I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself. My name is……"

He looked at you for a moment, as if weighing whether to reciprocate. Then, with a small, almost teasing smile, he took your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, and comforting in a way that felt strangely familiar.

"I'm Gojo Satoru." he said, his voice smooth, yet laced with something deeper, as if his name carried a history he didn’t fully reveal.

The name hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of recognition. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come. You smiled politely, though something about the way he said it, the way his gaze softened as he looked at you, made you feel like there was more to his introduction than simple formality.

"It's nice to meet you, Satoru." you replied, feeling a strange sense of ease as you spoke his name. There was something about the way it rolled off your tongue, as if you'd said it a thousand times before.

He tilted his head slightly, his sharp, crystal-blue eyes studying you with an intensity that was both disarming and oddly reassuring. It was as if he could see beneath the surface, understanding more than what was immediately apparent. Yet, instead of feeling exposed, you felt a sense of comfort, a silent acknowledgment that he grasped the depths of your emotions and thoughts.

With a gentle, almost shy smile, Gojo Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it toward you. “Put your number in,” he said, his voice tender and inviting. “I think… I think you know more about this story than I do. I’d like to know more, if you’re willing to share.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the request, but the sincerity in his voice and the warmth of his smile compelled you to act. With a nod, you took his phone from him and began to enter your contact information, a small flutter of excitement rising in your chest. There was something intriguing about the prospect of continuing this conversation, of sharing more about the story that had brought you both here.

When you handed his phone back to him, a playful grin appeared on your face. “It’s your turn,” you said, taking out your own phone and extending it toward him.

Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement as he looked at your phone. “Well, alright.” he said, taking it with a mock sigh of resignation. “If you insist.”

As he entered his number into your phone, the atmosphere between you shifted from one of solemn reflection to one of friendly connection. The small act of exchanging numbers felt like a bridge, linking your shared experience at the memorial with the potential for future conversations and deeper understanding. Maybe, just maybe — you’ll understand life the way these two in front of you did. Just maybe.

When he handed your phone back to you, he looked at you with a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing this moment with me. It’s been… meaningful. I’m glad we crossed paths today.”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that came from more than just the shared experience. “I’m glad too. It’s not every day you meet someone who understands the significance of something like this so deeply.”

Finally, Satoru spoke again, his tone lightening slightly. "Well, I should be going. The train is leaving soon. But... It was nice meeting you." He paused, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe we’ll see each other again."

You smiled, feeling the same unspoken connection. "I’d like that."

With one last look at the memorial, Satoru turned and began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light of the day. You watched him go, a strange sense of calm settling over you.

As you stood there, the weight of the lovers' story still fresh in your heart, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you would see Gojo Satoru. Something told you that your paths would cross again, in ways you couldn’t yet predict.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the memorial, you whispered one final prayer—not just for the nameless lovers, but for yourself, and perhaps for Satoru too.

"May we all find each other, in every lifetime."

[darnell-la]

I can't stop thinking about how Logan would be like "yeah those boys are not enough for you you need a man like me to take care of you" pleeeese do a story based on that <3 Love you guys works btw

note: Logan Howlett is an eater.

———

Logan had originally come to y/n’s apartment to drop off dinner. Wade had told him she hadn’t been eating proper food because of her study hours, so he cooked and packed it, ready to foul her up.

When he arrived, he heard noises from the young woman’s room. Two voice. Hers and someone else’s. A man’s. A boy.

He held himself together, understanding that she was young and experimenting. At least she better be. She shouldn’t be dating right now. He won’t allow it.

The man went to turn around and leave, maybe come back in an hour, but he heard a moan. Her moan. “Fuck no,” the man said, changing his mind about experimenting after he heard her with another man.

“Y/n!” The man knocked on the door hard, making the two jump in the bed. “Fuck, that’s Logan — M-My friend’s friend. My friend. J-Just get dressed,” y/n got up quick as well as the boy.

“Goddamnit,” he cussed, angry that he didn’t get to finish after touching y/n for the longest to get her wet. “Can you just like shoo him away or somethin? I’m fucking hard,” the boy said.

“I can’t, he’s like family. And he wouldn’t leave anyway,” she said, making the boy roll her eyes. “Get him outta here or I ain’t comin’ back,” the boy said, making her roll her eyes, but she was also horny now. She needed something.

Y/n cracked the door, hoping to talk with Logan for a quick second before sending him off, but he pushed open the door, causing Y/n to fall back.

“You ain’t comin’ back. Get the fuck out,” Logan snapped at the boy. His attitude was unacceptable. Even his appearance in her room was unacceptable.

“Dude, get out of here — We just got-“ Before he could say anything, Logan grabbed the boy by his collar and pulled him out of her room. “Don’t come back, or you’ll regret it,”

Logan shut the door and then turned to look at y/n who was embarrassed. “Logan, I-“ she went to say but he cut her off. “You what? Fuck boys during your study time?”

“What!? No, I- I mean — Logan, why are you here?” She asked, trying to switch the conversation which made him chuckle. “To give you dinner that you never have time to eat. Now I see why,”

Y/n felt bad. Now Logan knew she didn’t show up on Friday nights because she was fucking some random boy.

“You ditch family for a boy that can’t respect you? Let alone, properly make you wet!?” The man asked, shocking y/n. “H-He does make me wet,” y/n said, not knowing why she would tell Logan that. She just felt defensive.

“Oh, really? You know I can smell ya, Bub. Right?” Logan asked the young lady as he placed her dinner down on a desk before walking towards her. “And you’re already all dried up,”

“Logan that’s- That’s very inappropriate,” she said as she backed up, the back of her legs hitting her bed. “Is it? Then I must be a nasty son of a bitch, because I smell for you every time I’m around you,”

Y/n didn’t know how that got her on her bed, spread open for him, but she was, legs spread and cunt leaking as he stuffed his face in between her legs.

“So fuckin’ tasty. Gotta lick that son of a bitch off of you,” Logan groaned onto her heat as her hands tangled in his hair. “Oh god, Logan,” y/n threw her head back as her bud swole.

“Sweetest pussy that lives, baby. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t stop eating at her. He lifted a hand up and used two fingers to push at her entrance until he could curl in the right spot.

“F-Fuck,” y/n cried, making him lean back to watch her as he finger fucked her cunt. “You like that?” Logan asked as she nodded, head still leaned back and eyes closed.

“Yeah? Gonna start callin’ me instead of the boys?” He asked her, making her nod quickly. “Yeah, these boys aren’t enough for you. You need a man like me to take care of you,”

Y/n whined as she grinned at his fingers, chasing her orgasm. She was close, and he had just started. He was definitely better than any boy she’d been with. He was even better than herself.

“Give it to me, baby — Cum on my face — Need my face drenched,” the man looked into the girl's eyes and began to cross and roll back.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me — Give it to your man,” Logan kitty licked her bud to give her a better sensation that Wii jot sent her over the edge with a loud moan.

Logan latched his lips around her lips as he continued fingering her, humming into her cunt to get this amazing feeling in.

She tried to push the man off and close her legs, but he kept slapping her hands away and speeding her legs further with his free hand.

“G-God, Logan,” y/n cried out, feeling a bit embarrassed, and he felt it. He slightly loved the idea of her being shy from now on. The animal in him loved the look of a deer in headlights.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK

one | two | three | four | five

authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)

Liked by 14,082 others

dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!

View comments

user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever

user2 ALMOST HAD HIM

user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭

↳ user4 i think they’re on and off

user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!

user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!

↳ user6 i’m crying .

user7 y’all don’t love them like i do

user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg

user9 they thought they could keep it a secret 😒

user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭

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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.

speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.

eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.

“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.

you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.

drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.

leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.

when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.

he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.

“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.

drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.

he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.

“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.

“you have your homemade sandwiches—”

“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.

“assortment of chips!”

“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”

“can’t go wrong with your candies!”

“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”

“what?”

“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”

libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”

you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.

“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.

you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.

“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.

as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.

you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.

you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.

drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.

with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.

he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.

the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.

as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.

his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.

his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.

he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.

his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.

“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.

drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”

you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.

“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.

as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.

he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.

but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey

[itneverendshere]

I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3

loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖

i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.

You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.

Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.

You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.

It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?

You’re not so sure.

"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.

Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”

You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”

You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.

“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”

He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”

No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”

He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 

You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.

Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.

The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.

Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.

You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.

That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.

Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.

“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.

You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.

Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 

I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..

But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 

“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”

What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”

“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”

You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”

Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”

Oh.

You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”

“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."

His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”

You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.

 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.

“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”

That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

“Dirty pogues who think—”

"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."

“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"

Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."

“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”

That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.

He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."

You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 

He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.

Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.

Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”

Girl drama your ass.

He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.

He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”

Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.

“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”

Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”

Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

"She’s a psycho.”

Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"

"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”

“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”

You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.

But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling��anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.

“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.

You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”

You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”

He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”

You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”

Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”

You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”

He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”

You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”

He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.

“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.

Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”

You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 

He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.

“I like you horny.”

You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.

You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.

“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"

You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.

But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 

His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.

You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 

“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”

He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”

You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.

“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.

He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”

You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.

You need him, and you need him now.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.

You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.

You feel filthy.

You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”

He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”

You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.

She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.

But you? You feel smug.

You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.

Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.

“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."

And that’s what makes it even sweeter.

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[girliemattitude]

— - Horny Text - — M.S - —

A/N:Just a little something I wrote based on this thought I had…Hope you enjoy :)

A/N(2): This is my work please don’t steal it <3

………………………………………………………………………………….……………………

The night had started off so casually— a relaxed hangout with friends, some laughter, and just the right amount of banter to keep things interesting. Nick and Chris were in their usual goofy mode, while Matt was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looked so chill and laid back that you just had to mess with him—You smirked, eyes narrowing as you typed out a message that was just a little too bold for the current setting. You knew exactly what you were doing. You hit send, leaned back into the couch, and waited, a moment later, you saw him pause, eyes fixed on his phone. His fingers stopped moving, his whole body going still as he processed the message.

“I need you so bad”

“Like I can’t stop thinking about your hands on my body, the way you can make me squirm by the slightest of touch”

His brows furrowed slightly, and then his lips parted just a bit in surprise, he swallowed hard, blinking a few times as he tried to recover. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit you’d noticed before, and it only confirmed that you’d gotten under his skin. His eyes darted toward his brothers, making sure they were still wrapped up in their own conversation, and then back to his phone. You could see the exact moment it hit him—when the meaning behind your words sank in, you had him right where you wanted. His relaxed posture stiffened, and he gave the screen a second glance, clearly surprised by what you’d written. He thought he could play it cool, but you knew better.

Matt glanced up from his phone, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his eyes locked with yours, his lips twitched into a half-smile, the kind that made your stomach flip, his hand tightened around his phone as he kept his eyes on yours, letting you know he was fully in the game now.

His response came through a second later, the vibration buzzing in your pocket. You slid your phone out just enough to read it, making sure to keep your face neutral despite the heat rising in your chest.

“You serious wanna do this? You’re trying to get me all riled up or what?”

You looked down at the text, biting your lip to suppress a laugh. Of course, you were serious. That was the fun part. You glanced over at him, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still trying to compose himself, you could see the flush creeping up his neck as he waited for your response.

You didn’t leave him waiting long. Your reply was quick, direct, pushing him just a little further.

“I just really need you right now… Or maybe I just really like teasing you and seeing how you’re try to keep it together.”

Matt’s eyes flickered toward his phone again, his reaction was instant. His eyes widened, he bit his lip and he stared at his phone for a long moment, his face turning a shade darker. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his cool. His eyes flicked up again, meeting yours, and this time, the look he gave you was filled with disbelief, heat, and a hint of frustration, you could tell he was barely holding it together.

His brothers and friends were still deep in their conversation, completely unaware of the silent, heated exchange happening just a few feet away from them.He brought the phone down to his side, as if distancing himself from the message would help him think straight, but the damage was done. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he knew it too.

His phone buzzed again in his hand…

“What if I’d tell you I’m wearing those panties you like”

You saw him glance at your text, his eyes darted back to you, and you shared a look that felt electric. There was no going back now—he was fully locked in. It felt like you and Matt were in your own little world at that moment.

He stared at you for a beat too long, his expression flickering between flustered and something much more. The tension was thick, and every time his eyes met yours, it was like a silent dare to keep going, to see just how far you could push him.

Your phone buzzed once again and you glanced down to see his reply.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.You might not feel so bold later.”

You could practically hear the challenge in his voice, even though he wasn’t speaking aloud. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his again, and this time it was more intense, heavy. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he held back, he shifted, leaning against the counter, his posture tense as he tried to ground himself. His eyes kept flicking back to his phone, then to you. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at you every few seconds, like he was waiting for you to do something—anything—that would break the fragile balance he was trying so hard to keep.

You could see his struggle clear as day. His lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow, and his fingers twitched around his phone like he was dying to send another message but didn’t trust himself to stay subtle.

Chris called out to him, bringing him back to reality, he straighten up quickly. “Are you bringing those chips or what?” his brother asked, laughing like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Matt blinked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it, he shot you a warning look before he replied to Chris “Yeah, uh, on it,” he mumbled, though his voice was a little rough, like he’d been holding his breath. He quickly grabbed the snacks and walked over to the couch, sitting down next to you, his leg brushing against yours as he did.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his body tense even though he was trying to act casual. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered, “You really think you’re so slick, huh? You think you can just act like a little brat and tease me like that, with everyone around?”

Your pulse quickened at his words, you fought to keep a straight face, though the flush rising to your cheeks was impossible to hide. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye—“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said innocently, but your smirk gave you away

Matt’s eyes darkened, and you could feel the tension ratchet up between you two as he shifted even closer. His thigh pressed against yours now, the warmth of his body seeping into you, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip.

“You’re pushing it sweetheart” he whispered, his voice low and rough. His hand rested on the back of the couch behind you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder in a way that made your skin tingle. “keep this up and you’ll regret it.” The anticipation was building, and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Your breath hitched at his words, and you felt a flush creep up your neck, but you held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Matt’s eyes darkened even further, and for a second, it felt like the entire room disappeared, the laughter and noise from the rest fading into the background as the space between you two crackled with energy. He shifted closer still, his arm now resting fully behind you, his lips just inches from your ear.

“It’s a fact,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, making your whole body heat up in response. “You wanna keep teasing? Fine, you’ve been warned, I won’t holdback tonight.”

You suppressed a shiver, the thrill of the moment coursing through you. Matt’s hand slipped behind you, his fingers lightly grazing your back, sending another shiver down your spine. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow, but he only grinned, his expression full of unspoken promises. He leaned in just a little more, his voice low, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m gonna leave you so fucked out and dumbfounded, you won’t be able to handle it”, He said before he chuckled dryly.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as your body responded to his words. The thought of what was going to happen when everyone else left, when you two were finally alone, sent a wave of anticipation through you. You could already tell that Matt wasn’t going to let this little game end easily—and neither were you.

As the night wore on, the shared glances between you and Matt grew more frequent, more charged. Every time his hand brushed against yours, every time his knee pressed against your leg, the tension between you two intensified. It was, an unspoken agreement that when the night ended and everyone else went home, things were going to get a lot more intense.

[erabu-san]

First of all, I would like to thank you so much for all your support and your kind message !! Thank you so much for being patient with me too !! (you will see, I thanks a lot in this post lol)

Haha tbh I believe that ignoring and move on is a great way too! Yeees when I read this anon ask, I was wondering if they are living somewhere where pale person are oppressed and they are personally in this case and it affects them so badly that they have so much hate in them or they are just being hateful toward poc w/o any explication ? It was a bit uncomfortable And what is appealing with Genshin Impact (for me) is the fact that they use real culture to create their game ; even in the last survey, they ask if we like Natlan's authenticity (weird they only ask abt environment and music, i think they know they have issue with character design bahaha). I learn a lot about persian, algerian, but also chinese and even about french culture ! It is because people recognize themself that they start talking about it. I know there is a lot of controversial topic in Natlan, but because of this, I learn a lot on Hawai'i 's culture too. So yes, even if it is fiction, representation *is* important. And it is because they take inspiration of their culture that there is people who want a better representation, and in my opinion, this is something to not ignore !

About taking well what anon said, thank you so much ! If i can be honest tho, I didn't take it very well neither, or just I don't know how do I really felt at the moment I am an adult but I still hard time to distinguish what is morally okay or not, what is bad and good ? So if someone doesn't tell me they are explicitly a bad person with bad intention, I won't get it haha (ofc I grew up and now I identify my value and morals, but I still questionning if my morals are objectively great or not- yeaaah i was called weird for that, I am aware) Since forever I always try to understand other so I can communicate properly (at least I try), and that's why I am always interested on how does people think, why do they react in this specific way etc etc. Pro, I am patient and can take even the most violent take "well" (all depends. I am still a human) Con, I give free speech to those who have a "bad" take </3 and I apologize for that aaaa

KFSDLFSD I wish to express my angryness sometime but I just don't know if it is really adequate What if I interpret their text in wrong way as they initially try to say ? I wasn't feel offended by what they said, I was just uncomfortable because their opinion is something I consider hateful. and what if i was wrong??? But reading you all's opinion just affirm that's they were indeed rude ! I should stop overthink, life would be easier Maybe next time I have a doubt I will ask my friends's opinion before answering ksdkfsf

Oh my god thank you !!! If i can be honest, I draw Kinich this way because when I draw him w a darker skin for the first time, I thought "Oh !!! he looks so cool !!!!" and seeing a lot of positive comment abt my Kinich just makes me happy so I keep him like this ! And thank you for sharing with me informations !<<333 This is not overstepping at all ! And it is a reciprocate feeling anon ! It might be a bit weird but "angry" is such a complex feeling for me. I feel it but I don't really know how to express it in the most healthy way and it is super frustrating. So... seeing people getting mad at something I also disagree on makes me feel better !! And for this, thank you all !

I SNORT SO HAAAARD Damn Macron you again..........!! I didn't put all ask here but I read them all !! Thank you for sharing with me your opinion and reaction, it is truly interesting (and way more relaxing that the hater anon kskskss) !! and again, your support is truly meaningful for me. You all have sincere gratitude Hope y'all have a great day !! Stay hydrated too <3

[fresitaskywalker]

Trials - A.S

Warnings: Language 

    Pairing: Slytherin!Anakin Skywalker x Reader (use of y/n)

    Summary: Padmé dragging Reader to trials for emotional support leads to a near death experience.

    Word count: 2.0k

    A/N: It’s here! It’s been awhile since I written so excuse if it’s not perfect, wanted something simple and I also decided not to give the reader a specific house, please enjoy. <3

“C’mon (Y/n), please? I need emotional support!” Padmé begged (Y/n), clasping her hands together, looking at (y/n) with puppy eyes which only earned her an eye roll and a sigh, both of them walking in the corridor, navigating through various students trying to get to their next class which they shared together, History of Magic. “Do you really think so? I think you’d do just fine without me there.” She responded, giving her a quick glance, tightly holding onto their textbook. Padmé had been constantly bringing up Quidditch trials throughout the summer through the letters they’ve sent one another, (Y/n) always encouraged her to try-out but Padmé was always preoccupied with other activities she was involved with until this year, finally being able to try out. There was only one downside though, Padmé was currently begging them to accompany them to trials, claiming she needed her there for support.

(Y/n) loved to encourage and be there for Padmé but they were never a huge fan of Quidditch, not for any reason in particular, they still attended games, supporting their house but that was it and all they were willing to do. They both arrived at their shared classroom, taking a seat beside each other, (Y/n) gently placing her book on her desk in front of her. “Please? I need you there.” Padmé spoke, desperation in her tone which now caused (Y/n) to have second thoughts. (Y/n) sighed, looking at Padmé, “Fine i’ll go.” She finally agreed, Padmé squealing in excitement, throwing herself to (Y/n), hugging her tightly. ‘Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!” Padmé thanked her over and over again, a faint smile on (Y/n)’s face, light laughter escaping her lips as she returned the hug. “Alright! Alright! You better make the team!” (Y/n) said, despite having full faith she would.

Quidditch trials were being held after school, Ravenclaw and Slytherin trials being held the same day, Ravenclaw scheduled first. (Y/n) was already sitting at the bleachers, looking down at Ravenclaw’s Captain gathering everyone who was trying out, Padmé being amongst them. Padmé scanned the bleachers quickly, eyes landing on (Y/n), quickly waving at her. (Y/n) waved back, giving Padmé a thumbs up before Padmé turned her attention to the Captain, commencing the trials. (Y/n) sat in silence, her leg bouncing up and down rapidly, feeling anxious for Padmé. Being too engrossed in the trials, she didn’t notice Slytherin’s Quidditch Captain entering the bleachers, his blue eyes landing on her, immediately making his way to her. 

“Padme’s trying out?” Anakin suddenly spoke, causing (Y/n) to gasp, jumping at the sound of his voice. “You scared me!” She spoke, having been too focused in watching the trials, completely clueless in knowing he had approached her. A chuckle escaped his lips, taking a seat beside them, “Relax, It’s just me” Anakin said, finding her reaction a bit hilarious. (Y/n) and Anakin weren’t best friends necessarily, maybe between acquaintances and friends but they’ve known each other since they first stepped foot inside Hogwarts Express, sitting together in the same compartment, sharing sweets and talking about one another. They would see each other around Hogwarts, Anakin always either nodding, smiling, or waving at her whenever they passed each other in the corridors, very rare for them to converse since people were always around Anakin, despite that, (Y/n) always held a soft spot for Anakin, he was the first friendship she formed within the wizarding world, being introduced to basically a whole new different world was scary and somehow, Anakin made it feel less terrifying. Anakin was very fond of (Y/n), always making sure to acknowledge her whenever they both passed each other, his eyes lingering on her even after she looked away, his mind clouded with thoughts of her. Meeting (Y/n) was probably the best thing that could’ve happened when he stepped foot in Hogwarts Express to him, they both instantly clicked, immediately getting to know each other, buying sweets from the Trolley, he felt comfortable with her, feeling a sense of relief whenever their eyes found each other.

“You caught me off guard!” (Y/n) said, taking a deep breath, looking at him for a couple seconds before looking back at the area, seeing everyone gather again, trials coming to an end. “She’ll get in, she’s got spirit” Anakin said, his gaze following (Y/n)’s, noticing she’s watching Padmé like a hawk. (Y/n) sighed, weight being lifted off her shoulders, although she believed in Padmé, hearing it from someone who’s Captain and has plenty experience with Quidditch was promising. “You aren’t trying out this year?” Anakin asked, shifting his gaze to her. (Y/n) laughed, nodding her head, “Absolutely not, not my thing whatsoever.” She replied, gathering her things, standing up the minute she saw Padmé leaving the arena along with the others. “I have to meet with Padmé, see you around, Anakin.” (Y/n) waved goodbye, in a hurry as she wanted to know if Padmé got in or not, hearing Anakin call after her but assumed it was just him saying goodbye.

(Y/n) walked quickly to where the Ravenclaw changing rooms were, hoping to hear good news. She made it, entering the girl’s changing room without a care, eyes scanning the room in search of Padmé, seeing her packing up her stuff, quickly making her way to her, “Did you get in?!” she asked, startling Padmé as she wasn’t expecting for (Y/n) to enter the changing room, gathering whatever was left of her belongings. A pout formed on Padmé’s lips, (Y/n) beginning to frown when Padmé’s expression suddenly changed, smiling. “You’re looking at Ravenclaw’s new chaser” Padmé announced, (Y/n) breaking into a smile, engulfing Padmé in a hug, being over the moon for her friend making the team. Once Padmé finished gathering her belongings, they both walked out of the changing rooms, Padmé talking about how she felt and her thoughts as (Y/n) only really knew the basics and even so, she didn’t remember them that well. As they continued walking, (Y/n) began to slowly feel as if she forgot something, sliding her bag off her shoulders quickly as she rummaged through her bag, a groan escaping her lips when it finally dawned on her, “Sorry, Padmé, I must’ve forgotten my textbook up at the bleachers” (Y/n) spoke, sighing as she put her backpack back on, “I’ll see you around, yeah?” she said, both of them quickly bid each other goodbye as (Y/n) scurried back, mentally cursing at herself along the way for being forgetful. 

Just as (Y/n) was about to head to the bleachers when she noticed Anakin by his lonesome, packing up as Slytherin trials were over. Perhaps when she thought he was saying goodbye, he was actually trying to let her know she forgot her textbook? Wouldn’t hurt to ask. “Anakin!” she called out, jogging over to him, immediately getting a reaction from him as he quickly turned, a smile on his face, his broom in hand. “Finally realized you forgot something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. (Y/n) nodded, sighing, “My textbook, have you seen it?” she asked, Anakin nodding as he turned around, picking up her textbook from the ground, lifting it up for her to see. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, reaching out to grab it but Anakin quickly pulled his hand back, a puzzled look on (Y/n)’s face, standing there empty handed. “I will give it back to you if…” he paused for a second, a smirk on his face, “ You play a round of Quidditch with me.” he said, looking at her. (Y/n) laughed, immediately chopping it off as Anakin pulled some sort of joke, trying once more to grab her textbook only for Anakin to take a step back, groaning at his actions. “C’mon..” she mumbled, crossing her arms, “You know I don’t know how to play” she said, already annoyed at his tactics. “Let me teach you then.” he said, “Either that or I’ll throw it in the Black Lake, your choice.” he simply shrugged, a look of disbelief on her face as he basically gave her an ultimatum. She stared for him for a while, taking his threat seriously, she simply nodded, earning a satisfied smile from Anakin as he began by explaining how the game worked.

(Y/n) and Anakin stood in front of each other, brooms between their legs, (Y/n)’s hands gripping tightly onto her broom. One of Anakin’s hands gripped the stick of his broom while the other held onto the golden snitch, looking at (Y/n). “Are you ready?” he asked, anticipation bubbling inside him. “No but do I have a choice?” she asked, Anakin simply nodding his head ‘no’. Anakin opened his hand, the golden snitch on the palm of his hand, its wings beginning to spread, fluttering almost instantly as it flew away quickly from his palm and towards the arena, both (Y/n) and Anakin quickly flying towards the golden snitch, the goal being to catch it. Adrenaline pumped through her veins mixed in with fear, Anakin immediately gained more speed than her “You must really not want that textbook, (Y/n)!” he yelled out at her, turning his head to look at her briefly, a mischievous look on his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh, loosening up, the fear now being replaced with determination, quickling ganging up on Anakin. It was basically Ring Around The Rosy, both of them flying all over the arena trying to catch the snitch, pushing and shoving each other lightly as to not hurt one and other, both of them laughing, (Y/n) was surprisingly enjoying herself, heart swelling whenever she’d hear his laugh, not getting enough of it. (Y/n) was at arms length from the snitch, the taste of victory on her tongue, extending her arm, a loose grip on her broom as she was determined to catch it. Anakin saw just how close she was to catching the snitch, not wanting to admit defeat as he quickly gained up on her, both of them neck and neck, (Y/n) being too focused on trying to grab the snitch to notice Anakin.

Anakin shoved himself onto Amber, shoulders colliding but he had underestimated just how rough he was, (Y/n) losing balance immediately, no longer straddling her broom, beginning to fall. Her heart sank as fear consumed her once more, the feeling of falling absolutely terrifying her, trying her hardest to grab her broom but failing. “(Y/n)!” Anakin yelled, completely forgetting about the snitch, immediately acting fast and flying to her, the look of horror on her face making his heart heavy with guilt. Anakin reached out for her, (Y/n) being quick to grab his arm, straddling his broom behind him, her arms snaking around his torso and tightly holding onto him, face buried on his back, her eyes shut as she felt nauseous, feeling as if she saw how close she was to landing on the floor she might throw up. 

Anakin tried landing gently but due to his panicked state, he landed roughly, both of them being knocked off the broom, rolling onto the field. Anakin immediately stood up, clumsily making his way to her as she just laid on her back, breathing heavily. “(Y/n)! Are you okay? Fuck i’m so sorry I–” He was cut off by the sound of her laughter, a look of disbelief on his face before also breaking out into a laugh, a wave of relief hitting him, laying beside her, both of them staring up at the sky, she was okay. Their laughter died down after a while, a smile on both of their faces as they just stared up at the sky, the sound of birds chirping now filling the air, their shoulders touching. “I hope you know you owe me for almost killing me.” (Y/n) spoke, turning her head to face him, slightly admiring his side profile. Anakin turned to face her, “Wanna get butterbeer at Hogsmeade?” he asked, basically asking her out, hoping she’d accept.

“It’s a date.”

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 14

Loop #427

Tango: Jimmy!?

Jimmy: Rancher!?

Pearl: Oh wow, they look adorable.

Scott: Yeah...

Pearl: ...who shit in your coffe today Scott?

Scott: What!? Uh??

Pearl: Why are you being weird about it?

Scott: Excuse you, I'm not.

Pearl: Uh huh.

Scott: I'm not... lying.

Pearl: Huh, if you're sure.

Scott: ...

Pearl: Listen Scott, I don't care if you are jealous but don't let it become a problem.

Loop #429

Scott: Pearl, Pearl I fucked up.

Pearl: What's wrong!?! What happened.

Scott: I let it become a problem.

Pearl: ... What did you do.

Scott: I ... Poured water into Decked out 3.

Pearl: YOU DID WHAT!?

Scott: I didn't mean to but I just so ... tempting.

Pearl: Do you know how much time Tango has put in on it!?!

Scott: I know!

Pearl: That was multiple loops of work

Scott: I ...know.

Pearl: ...

Scott: I'm ...sorry.

Pearl: Listen Scott, you are one of my closest friends but that was really fucked up.

Scott: I don't know why I did that... I didn't think that-

Pearl: You didn't think at all mate... Why did you come here?

Scott: ... I'm going to tell Tango.

Pearl: ... And? Why tell me?

Scott: I... don't know. I guess I wanted to know what do to. And now I do.

Loop #430

Tango: ...

Scott: ...

Tango: So?

Scott: I dropped water in Decked out 3.

Tango: ...That's it? Scar does that like 5 times a week, It's annoying but accidents happen-

Scott: It wasn't an accident.

Tango: What do you mean?

Scott: It wasn't an accident, I did it on purpose.

Tango: But why would you do that?

Scott: I... don't know. I didn't think.

Tango: ... Are you sorry?

Scott: I am.

Tango: Are you willing to help fix it?

Scott: Yes.

Tango: Then, a truce?

Scott: Truce?

Tango: I think I know why you did that, so truce, for Jimmy's sake at the very least.

Scott: Alright, truce. For Jimmy.

Loop #433

Grian hated yhs loops with a passion, he really did. Taurtis was an enabler at best most of the time and Sam... Yeah. Accidentally going sun titan mode and being mistaken as Amateratsu was new... To be fair there was much that he wanted to avoid so all things considered this was actually a pretty ok loop. Still getting worshipped always felt unconfortable...very unconfortable.

Loop #438

The Narrator: You are on a path in the woods and at the end of that path is a cabin and in the basement of that cabin is a watcher. You are here to slay it, it will be the end of the world if you don't.

Mumbo: ...

The Narrator: Hello? ...

Mumbo: I feel like this is a meta joke of some kind.

Loop #441

Tango: Let me guess, Scott?

Scott: Tango?

Tango: Is it so obvious?

Scott: Your villain name is literally fireburn.

Tango: Listen, creativity is hard ok?

Scott: So, guess fire powers?

Tango: Fireficating, yes.

Scott: Sooo, why the visit?

Tango: Jimmy is a hero in this loop.

Scott: Oh? I have to see this.

Loop #443

Scar: Ok, what if I also went insane this time.

Pearl: Uh?

Scar: I could be uh... Scarlet Scar!

Pearl: I hate the fact it's an alliteration.

Scar: Oh, it could be so fun!

Pearl: Hmm... I have an idea.

Pearl: Prepare for trouble!

Scar: And make it double!

Pearl: To protect the world from devastation.

Scar: To unite all people within our nations.

Pearl: To denounce the evils of truth and love.

Scar: To extend our reaches to the stars above!

Pearl: Pearl!

Scar: Scar!

Pearl: Team Scarlet blas off at the speed of light.

Scar: Surrender now or prepare to fight.

Tilly: woof woof woof woof! (Woof, that's right!)

Loop #446

Tango: Being a gem is... Weird.

Scott: Comes with being a being of light. Pearl told me about it but it is a lot weird when actually in it.

Tango: So you are a uh...

Scott: Sapphire, guess you are a carnelian.

Tango: Yeah... overcooked too.

Scott: Ouch. Jimmy is a lapis lazuli this time around.

Tango: That's the water one, right?

Scott: Yeah. I can being you to him. You could say sapphires are good runners.

Tango: Jimmy is so bored lately, I don't get it.

Scott: It's part of the loops, happens to me to. Sometimes we feel a little numb.

Tango: We should do something interesting but I don't know what.

Scott: Actually I have an idea.

Scott: Jimmy!

Jimmy: Scott, Tango, what's going on?

Tango: We have someone we would like you to meet!

Jimmy: Oh uh...sure...?

Scott was actually pretty light Tango had to admit, it only took a twirl and and a dip and they were both engulfed by light.

Jimmy: U-uh!... H-hi? Y-you look great! I mean good I mean nice.

???: Oh don't be shy, you look great good nice too.

Jimmy: A-ah!?? Uh??

The fusion didn't last that long considering the tension still present between the two but Jimmy's glowing face was worth it.

Prev Next First

[voteformightyclocks]

Why The Bad Batch Season 3 Was Bad

Now hear me out! I enjoyed it, for the most part. And I know many fans did enjoy love it. But objectively speaking, the show had a rough Seasons 1-2 while it tried to find it's footing, and then a horrible Season 3 due to bad writing. I could never really find the words to explain how I felt but recently I discovered an actual writing technique that was not implemented, which is the core of my problem. So let's talk about that!

The technique in question is setup/payoff. Ideally, everything in your story should have some sort of payoff. Think Boromir being tempted by the ring, and then later betraying the Fellowship. Or the dwarves and elves hating each other but later on Legolas and Gimli referring to each other as friends. The setup can be truly anything, and the payoff also can be. They don't need to be these massive moments that feel epic. But ideally, every notable moment and every lore drop should be building towards something.

While nothing has to build towards something, Tech's death should have. His death was a consequence to the Bad Batch's actions, however it wasn't properly built up or hinted at. The mission was treated the same as any other mission. There was no setup for Tech's death. You could replace his death with literally anyone else in the crew and the impact would have been exactly the same. So if Tech's death wasn't paying anything off, then it should be setup for something later down the line. It's a major event, it needed to be.

Fast forward to Season 3 and we have this assassin pursuing the Bad Batch. This assassin demonstrates Tech's abilities, as well as Crosshair's. Theories buzzed around the internet that this assassin was, in fact, Tech. This would have been awesome payoff. But instead the assassin was a faceless individual. I understand where the show was coming from: "This is what the Empire wanted to turn Task Force 99 into." But that's not satisfying. There was no buildup towards the Empire removing the identity of the clones, not truly. We could have seen that through Crosshair, but all we saw was the Empire trying to control Crosshair, not erase who he was. If we in contrast did have Tech return as the assassin, that would have been different. There would have been setup for that, and then slow buildup, and then finally, the reveal.

And this leads to a major thing that I'm going to talk about that Star Wars...has a history of ignoring. It's okay for the audience to be right. They knew we were saying "Tech could still be alive!" They knew we were going to theorize about the assassin the moment we saw him. I suspect that the whole Faceless Assassins twist was implemented to try to surprise us. It sucked. It had no setup. It wasn't paying anything off. It landed as flat as Tech's death. Yes if the main assassin was actually Tech, we would have guessed it and not been surprised, and granted that would have been a slightly cheesy part of the story, but we would have been excited. It would have been proper payoff to Tech's supposed death.

So TL;DR, The Bad Batch Season 3 sucked because it abandoned a writing principle in order to attempt to shock us, and instead left a major Season 2 event and the entirety of Season 3 dangling with emptiness.

To all you writers or aspiring writers out there, don't follow that path. Even if it means the readers are right, stick to your story and don't abandon writing techniques. There is so much power in writing a story that is purely yours, and no one else's.

Until next time

[matryosika]

Three Times Again

Pairing — Hyunjin & Reader Wordcount — 6,171 words Includes — Fem!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, smut (warnings under the cut). Author's Note — Finished college, graduated with a psychology degree and a 98.8/100 general score, I now have a serious, serious job and I haven't written anything in eight or nine months so this is the best I can do at this point. This might be a bit rusty but honestly I'm happy I was able to write something for the first time in so long. Don't think I forgot about you folks, I never will! Hope you didn't forget about me either.

Smut Warnings — Virgin AND inexperienced reader paired with somewhat experienced male character, best friends trope. Use of petnames, praise and worship if you squint, very very delicate smut if i'm being honest. Fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, lots of making out and kisses, protected sex, mentions and use of condom, piv.

It was bound to happen.

Hyunjin knew it. You knew it. All of your friends knew it. 

Rather sooner than later, it was just bound to happen. 

The four walls on his bedroom and the remnants of the incense smoke are lively witnesses of the tension unraveling —a tension that lasted enough for the two of you, and that is now slowly causing havoc with each of your heartbeats.

It all started with a simple, pointless "truth or dare" kind of game, you and your friend's very own rendition: truth or shot. You asked each other's questions, and you could choose between replying or chugging down a shot of liquid courage. No room for those "lick the floor" or "text your ex" shenanigans. 

Of course the catch was that after 3 or 4 rounds, your headspace wasn't as sober as initially. And after a series of shots, one would eventually start spitting out just truths that cannot be spoken after the sun rises.

“Don’t think about it,” Hyunjin begs in between kisses, dragging his swollen lips  along your shoulders and neck. His hands are roaming underneath your clothes, getting familiar with your body while feeling your warmth. “Please, don’t think about it”. 

You can't. And you try not to. 

At least not when the sensations of his wet lips teasing your skin becomes too much to handle in a span of minutes, or when the ghost trailing of his fingertips against your flesh is making you turn desperate for him.

But it is difficult.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, the logical, still functioning part of your brain tries to protest. Despite how aroused you are, and despite how receptive your body is to that of Hyunjin's. “We’re- you’re my best friend Hyunjin”. 

“And you’re mine,” he hums against your skin, only lifting his gaze when you bury your fingers a bit too harshly onto his dark hair locks, “is that so wrong?”

His words get underneath your skin in ways that they shouldn't, and you start kissing your rationality goodbye as Hyunjin nibbles softly at the flesh where your shoulders and neck connect.

“You’re- we are going to regret this,” you exhale, ironically locking your arms around his neck. Your words are only saying much, but your body is risking it all to let him know that you want this just as much as he does. “What if- you wake up tomorrow and think this was a mistake?”

The dark-haired lets out a quiet groan, filled with both amusement and despair. “How can this be a mistake?” he asks, moving one of his hands from your hips to your thighs, sneaking it between your shorts and your underwear, “how can it be a mistake when I've waited years to have you like this, all for me?”. 

You arch your back against the palm of his hand. 

“Hyunjin,” you exhale his name once again, but you're not quite sure what for. It could be a plea, or the beginning of a sentence you can't begin to articulate in a situation like this. It could also be the familiarity of the word falling from your lips in between moans —you would be such a filthy liar if you were to deny having touched yourself while thinking about your friend before. 

Either way, Hyunjin never really thought of his name that much until now, that he's hearing you moaning it. 

“Yeah?” he asks with a weak hum, getting lost in the way you smell, “talk to me”. 

“F-fuck,” you murmur weakly, the stinging feeling of tears pricking on the corners of your eyes.  You’re about to cry, but you don't know why. Blame it on the alcohol, the sudden release of that secret you've kept years locked inside of you, or the overwhelming sensation Hyunjin’s skin is, “promise me something-”. 

Your friend is all too busy engraving every single inch of your skin into his brain. Every freckle, mole and stretch mark, he needs to memorize your flesh like it's a map. He wants to remember how it looks underneath the dim light of his room, proof that this all happened and it's not just another wet dream of his.

“Anything,” he says, with such a raspy voice it's vibrations travel from the skin spilling out from your bra up until your throbbing center, “ask me anything”. 

You gather all your courage within you to lift your upper body from the mattress, resting your weight on your forearms and causing Hyunjin to take a slight step back from you.

“Promise me this isn't going to change a thing in our friendship,” you murmur, your chest moving up and down almost frantically. Hyunjin's dark eyes are all over yours, with a subtle furrow in his brows that just tells you he's still trying to get a hold on everything that's happening. “Promise me, Hyunjin”. 

You're honestly asking for a lot. How can he promise such a thing, when he is already missing the warmth of your skin? How can he pretend nothing is going to change, when tomorrow he will wake up with the ghostly feeling of your pussy around his dick?

Hyunjin will say yes. Hyunjin will say that he promises you something he knows he is not going to fulfill. And honestly, he can play pretend. You're not going to be able to tell, and he is not going to say it. 

But Hyunjin knows everything is going to change the minute he gets to feel your lips on his again. He knows nothing will ever be the same once he bottoms out inside you, hearing you moaning and gasping while he fucks you however you ask him to.

“I promise,” he swallows the lie thickly, staring at you between furrowed eyebrows. “I fucking promise just- please let me have you, please”. 

You're staring at each other with hitched breath, rapid heartbeats and an insane amount of uncertainty neither of you can sort out. 

“Please let me taste you,” Hyunjin plants a chaste kiss right above your hip bone.

And then another. 

And another.

And another.

“Please,” he begs again, humming your name. “Let me make you feel real good”. 

You close your eyes in defeat, getting immersed in the way his hot lips feel against your tummy. He is kissing, and licking, and nibbling at your flesh, it's practically impossible not to give in when all that's left is your word consenting to it.

“Please,” Hyunjin insists, the tip of his fingers grazing against the hems of your skirt and underwear. “Say you want this just as much as I do”. 

You whine, kicking your head back.

“Say it,” he repeats, whispering your name. “I need to hear it from you. I need to know that you want me like I want you”. 

“I want this,” you finally confess. “I want this- fuck, I want you, Hyunjin”. 

The words leave your lips with a shakily breath, and you think it might be the release of it all.

His lips crash into yours once again, and you realize how much you missed his taste despite having kissed him just minutes ago. Hyunjin's saliva tastes like plum soju, mint and your strawberry gloss, and your heart skips a beat at the realization that this is real, that this is happening —your taste and essence lingers in Hyunjin's mouth, and there's no turning back now. 

The closer your bodies are, the more your fragrances mix. You can't tell his smell apart from yours, and he can't tell either —your hands smell like his lotion, and his shirt smells like your perfume.

Your mind spirals into all the sensations he is providing you with, that is until his hands sneak underneath your blouse and you get to feel his hot flesh against the sides of your body.

Then, your mind goes blank.

Your blood boils, you feel the heat rising to your chest, cheeks and ears. You feel exposed, in a way, but you're sure things aren't going to end there.

Hyunjin has seen nothing of you just yet.

"Can I take this off?" His hands are still attached to your waist underneath your clothes, and as far as you're concerned he could be talking about your shirt or your bra. You want those two off anyways, so you nod and agree to whatever he is thinking.

Things unfold in slow motion to your eyes, but everything is happening pretty fast, actually. In the blink of an eye your blouse is scattered around his bedroom floor, and it doesn't take too long before his t-shirt is joining yours there, too. 

Between all the kisses and pettings, you feel the loss of his warmth when he takes a step back. Then, you feel really exposed.

Apart from your heavy breaths and fast heartbeats, the room is completely quiet. So quiet it scares you, so you break the silence with a muffled "what?".

Hyunjin's straight eyebrows furrow just slightly, and he parts his lips to say something yet nothing comes out of them. Nothing but a deep, trembling exhale; it sounds like the equivalent to being able to finally breath after being underwater for so long.

“What, Hyunjin?” You repeat with a stern voice, fearing he might've started to regret the whole thing. He is unreadable —as far as you're concerned, he could be having second thoughts about this stupid idea. You wouldn't blame it for it.

But when he drops to his knees in front of you, and his hands find the waistband of your skirt, you get the sense that he might not be regretting any of this at all.

“So pretty,” he mutters, with rounded eyebrows like crescent moons and big, open eyes as he stares up at you, “you’re so, so pretty”. 

The compliment takes your breath away, and the skin on your nape and back short-circuits as if an explosion of electricity it’s taking place underneath your flesh.

"You really think so?" You're not quite sure what prompts you to ask such a question, but you figure you should let yourself get loose. The last thing you want for tonight is to hold back, because that isn't the idea.

You're doing this with Hyunjin for a reason, and said reason is because you trust him.

Without holding back, without overthinking, without hesitating. There will be plenty of time to reflect on whatever happens tonight, but right now isn't the time.

At least not when Hyunjin is kneeling in front of you, holding so much adoration in his eyes you swear you finally feel those butterflies people keep talking about.

“I know so,” he reiterates, “just look at you”. 

Your eyes fall to where his hands meet with your skirt, and this time he asks for consent with just his gaze. You nod and swallow thickly, watching as his fingers expertly dance along the hems of your skirt.

You want to shy away, to cover yourself and evaporate into thin air —at the same time, Hyunjin wants to look at you. You want him to be the first one to see you naked, to touch parts of your body nobody has before. You want to see his expression, to wonder what he will do when the realization of having you in his bed finally sinks in.

Because up until now, everything feels like a fever dream to him.

You stand in front of the edge of his bed, and watch as he undresses you. His hands trace the path of the skirt, from your thighs to your calves, and only looks up when it reaches your ankles, signaling for you to step out of it.

The color and fabric of your panties match those of the bra, and for a split second Hyunjin feels played. 

Did you plan it? Have you been thinking about this as much as he has?

It could be a coincidence, but it isn't —at some point throughout the night, you and Hyunjin were bound to happen. And you both knew it.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, standing up from the floor right in front of you. His eyes are all over your face, his hands are shy and you get the feeling that he might kiss you, but all he does is press his lips against yours and murmurs, “you make me feel so- fuck, I don’t even know”. 

You appreciate Hyunjin's sincerity, because honestly you don't know either. All you know is the adrenaline running through your veins, and the palpitations you feel underneath your left rib cage and between your thighs.

All you know is that you want Hyunjin to fuck you. Whether it's painful, or not. Whether you get to feel some pleasure, or not. All you want is for him to be your first, to be the one you experience sex for the first time like everyone around you already has.

It's actually more complicated than that, than just experiencing, but you don't dwell on it for long.

“Don’t think about it too much,” you suggest, just as fazed as he is. “Don’t think about anything just- do whatever you want”.

Hyunjin is unsure of what he is doing, judged by the hesitation behind his movements. He holds you by the small of your back and presses you tightly against his body, so close the tip of your noses are grazing against each other.

“Stop me if I hurt you,” he whispers with shortness of breath, “alright?”

You nod and swallow thickly, “okay”. 

Inevitably, Hyunjin feels a pressure over his shoulders. He knows it is your first time. 

You deserve something memorable, something that it's all about you. 

Sure, his dick is hard and throbbing, and he swears he is one second away from exploding inside his pants, but he is willing to leave his pleasure aside for yours.

He'd have other opportunities to get his dick wet and other chances to experiment. Right now it should be all about you, about making you feel good.

And under that thought, he kisses you again. 

Soft and slowly, dragging the tip of his fingers along the middle of your back. His tongue brushes against yours and you completely forget about the concept of oxygen.

It doesn't matter now that Hyunjin's breath is everything you need to respire.

His fingers keep lingering in the hooks of your bra, and it surprises you how he is able to get it off of you on his own.

"No man ever gets it right the first time," your best friend had told you amidst laughter. But Hyunjin just did in his first try. He is just naturally good at everything he does; excelling at random tasks, always getting things perfectly from the very start.

You hardly think about how naked you're in comparison to him, because he presses his chest to yours and your breasts become squeezed by his golden skin. You feel your nipples hardening against him, and you’re fully aware he can feel them too.

Fuck, he can feel them. And his cock gets even harder by that alone. 

“Let me see you,” Hyunjin whispers under his breath, but you wrap your arms around his neck, preventing him from taking a step back from you. You shake your head, feeling abruptly overwhelmed by his embrace, as well as the cold air hitting your skin.

“No one has ever seen me naked,” you say.

He knows.

“I want to see you, if you let me,” he swallows thickly, brushing his nose against yours. “Please, let me see you”.

Hyunjin feels your arms releasing some strength, falling limp over his shoulders, and he takes that as an opportunity to walk back just enough to see you.

All of you.

Everything he shouldn't fantasize about, but he does. 

“God,” he exhales with a strangled breath, doing everything he possibly can to remain collected.

But it's irrational, and impossible. How can he remain calm when you're standing naked in front of him? Your skin is covered in goosebumps, your nipples are hard and the dark, wet patch on your cotton underwear just tells him that your body needs something only he can give you. How can he be calm throughout any of this?

He can’t, and he is finally coming to terms with it.

“It’s not fair,” you murmur, slyly crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m practically naked, and you still have your pants on”. 

Hyunjin listens, but decides to ignore you. Instead, his hands find your crossed arms and he motions for you to drop them, pressing his lips against yours to kiss you one more time.

He swears he might never get tired of kissing you, ever.

“Lay down,” he presses desperate, short kisses against your lips, and you follow his guidance until your back meets the softness of the comforter.

His hands hold the sides of your body, only to drag the last piece of clothing off from your body. And it happens all too fast, that you don't even have time to shy away. Hyunjin lays down between your spread legs, with his hands and arms hooked underneath your thighs, half-lidded eyes looking right at yours.

“Remember,” Hyunjin warns, and the feeling of his warm breath against your core feels too weird and unfamiliar, you mean to close your legs around him but he doesn't allow you to, “tell me if I hurt you”. 

Your heart would have exploded inside your chest at the sight, but it doesn't until Hyunjin's tongue meets your pussy for the first time. Then, you feel your heartbeats ringing loudly in your ears.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, holding up your weight with your forearms.

“You’re dripping wet,” he murmurs, nose brushing against your clit while his tongue collects all your arousal, “you must have been wanting this for so long”.

You writhe under his hold, feeling weakened by his words. Your chest feels heavy, and there's a tension on your lower back that prompts you to grind your hips against his face, practically begging for him to do something.

And he does —the tip of his digits slide against your folds, exploring you. He focuses his tongue on your clit, and by that alone you swear you're seeing stars. You thought the stimulation would pretty much feel like your fingers or toys, but it's nothing close to that. It feels foreign, out of your control, and you like that.

“How do you touch yourself?” Hyunjin asks with a deep voice you swear you can't recognize. 

Instead of replying, you guide one of your hands to his, that is already wet and sticky, and take two of his fingers, “put them inside”. 

He follows your orders, sinking his index and middle finger with such an ease it surprises both of you. Normally, it would take you a while to get wet on your own —right now, it seems that your body is reacting to Hyunjin much faster than you expected.

“So fucking warm,” the mutter is more to himself than to you, but you still catch it. And for some reason, the sound of his voice makes you clench harder around his fingers, “and so tight”. 

“Don’t say that,” you kick your head back, closing your eyes shut.

“I know you like it,” he says, a small smile creeping through the corners of his lips, “I can feel it”. 

There it is, again. Your walls flutter around his fingers, squeezing them softly at every word he says.

“You like it when I tell you how wet you are?” Hyunjin’s voice is gradually lower now, and his choice of words has the desired effect on you, “don’t lie, I can feel you getting tighter”. 

This may be better than any lie detector the world has come to know. Discovered by none other than Hyunjin, right before any other guy all over you could.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, your fingers instinctively latching to his black hair. You don't mean to pull it, but you find yourself using it as leverage, and Hyunjin finds himself groaning at it, “seems like I've discovered something about you too”.

He smiles and presses his lips and nose further against you, pretending to know every single inch of your core with his tongue. It's the first time he has you like this, and he isn't quite sure if he is doing alright —a couple of soft whimpers and quiet, strangled moans are falling from your lips, but that isn’t enough for Hyunjin.

"What else do you do?" He asks, and the question comes out more as a whimper than a casual, nonchalant voice. He is clearly affected by all of this, and you can tell by his hips rut against his bed as he touches you. “When you touch yourself, what else do you do?” 

One of your hands leaves his dark hair, and guide to your breasts. It always goes a little bit like that —your dominant hand maneuvers the toy against your clit, and your other hand focuses on your breasts and nipples, pinching and twisting them as you like.

Fuck, well, that's going to be a sight imprinted in Hyunjin's mind forever. The way your back arches as soon as your fingers tease your nipples, the way your chest elevates with a deep inhale. The way your hips buck against Hyunjin's touch, and how your toes curl just slightly at the stimulation.

He soon focuses again on his task, pumping two of his fingers inside you while his tongue takes care of your clit that has become more swollen than initially. 

He is doing anything he can to get to know you, to see how his touch is affecting you. And when his middle finger touches a spot inside your walls that he hadn't before, and you let out a guttural moan of his name, Hyunjin stops short.

“Did I-” 

He must think he hurt you. But it's all quite the opposite. 

“Right there,” you shake your head frantically, acquiring strength from, practically, nowhere to push your body up in your forearms again, “shit, again, do it again”.

And he complies. His middle finger curls, and the reaction he gets is the same, if not more pronounced, from you.

“You’re fucking dripping,” repeatedly, he manages to find a pace of his own. His fingers move slowly and deliciously inside of you, almost always touching that spot that has you moaning louder than before. That, added with the suck of his mouth around your clit, sends you to cloud 9.

You've never felt this before, on your own, and it scares you.

It feels more intense, and slightly painful. Your lower back hurts, you're sweating and you fear you might pee. 

It definitely feels as if you're going to pee.

“Hyunjin!” You gasp, your hands pushing him away, “I feel- ‘m gonna make a mess”. 

His heart is beating loud in his ears, and he feels the pressure of your thighs squeezing his face. The quick thought that he might be hurting you flies across Hyunjin's mind, but is quickly discarded when your hips move in sensual circles against him.

You must be close.

“Wait!” You gasp, and Hyunjin withdraws from between your legs, but his fingers continue fucking your pussy with an increased pace, “G-god, fuck, I’m-”.

You’re babbling, not making any sense. And Hyunjin feels his dick leaking precum, sticking to his underwear. Never in all his years of life had he been this hard, and it's hurting him to no end. At the same time, it feels deliciously torturing. 

He just fears he might come untouched.

“Close?” Hyunjin asks, and you just nod frantically. 

As if an expert, his palm hits your clit every time he bottoms his fingers out inside of you. A part of him tells him he should position himself back between your legs and make you come with his mouth and fingers; the other, however, urges him to crawl up, between kneeling and lying next to you, as his available hand guides your chin to him.

The sight is even better like this, Hyunjin thinks —your teary eyes and the hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks with sweat is something he might never be able to forget.

The way you're staring at him like you're scared, and confused, and oh so aroused. He is the reason behind your body shaking and your hands gripping the bed sheets underneath you; the reason behind your cries and whimpers, and the wetness between your legs.

All because of him.

"I think I'm coming," you manage to spit out in a strangled breath, and soon after lose complete control over your body.

Your back arches against his bed, your legs close around his wrist, and your body threatens to push him away. But Hyunjin doesn't let you —he embraces you, holding you in place as you ride your high. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, with a soft smile creeping through the corners of his lips.

Your trembling hand wraps around his bicep, and you can barely open your eyes without tearing up. Whatever just happened, you haven't experienced it before.

“Hyunjin,” you whimper yet again, feeling how your walls clench over and over around his fingers. It tired you, both mentally and physically —your toes feel funny from clenching them much, your legs are sore from being spread open for a while now, and your hips feel tired from all the tension that suddenly snapped minutes ago, “holy fuck, Hyunjin”. 

“I’m right here,” he tells you while leaving a quick kiss on your lips.

And then another.

And another.

And another, until it turns into a proper kiss, one that isn’t nearly as sloppy or fast as the ones he offered you before. This time, Hyunjin kisses you slowly, carefully, almost as if he is trying to soothe all that tension with his lips.

You place your hands on either side of his face, and he does the same —with ease, he manages to position himself on top of you, with so much care not to put all his weight on top. Hyunjin only breaks the kiss to look at you, and the way your lips form a subtle "o" when you feel his erection pressed against your lower abdomen is enough for him to run out of breath.

“We don’t have to- I mean, we don’t have to do it tonight,” Hyunjin murmurs, his lips barely touching yours. “We can stop right here, I’m okay with-” 

“Let’s do it,” you notice how he swallowed thickly and how his bright eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights stare at you with just the same amount of fear and lust. 

To be your first; to mess around together, to experience what sex is all about.

You want this, and he wants this just as much. There's trust, and there is a promise —nothing can go wrong because that's exactly why you're doing it with each other.

Because there's no one else in this world you trust more than Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he exhales, backing away from your body to fully undress himself. And although it's not prohibited to look, you feel insanely awkward when your eyes meet his figure.

Hyunjin doesn't show much skin, not even during the summer days when you visited the beach or his parent's lake house. Seeing him shirtless was already much of a shock, but seeing him fully naked? That is a whole other story.

You feel your cheeks blushing and you need to look away before Hyunjin catches you staring, but it is already too late. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, forcing yourself to keep contact with his eyes rather somewhere else.

Hyunjin licks his lips, and he does so in such a swift movement that it barely registers in your mind. But it does, and you can't stop thinking how attractive he is, and how awfully aroused he is making you feel. It's like your body has a mind of its own, one that's completely enticed by him.

“C’me here,” he kneels in the bed again, hovering your body. His erection pressed against your lower abdomen once again, and you let out an unexpected, almost embarrassing moan just by that alone.

He is hard, and his dick feels warm. You can't help but sneak a hand between your bodies and wrap it around him, making him curse under his breath.

It's the first time you see (in real life, anyway) and touch a dick; you're not sure what you were expecting, but the feeling of it isn't bad. However, it isn’t as nice as the sight of Hyunjin's eyes closed shut, and his bottom lip caught between his lips.

“If you touch me again, I'm going to come,” he warns you.

“And isn’t that what you want?” You ask, stroking him softly. You’re barely discovering how to touch him, but there’s something pleasant about the way you’re exploring him.

“Not before fucking you,” Hyunjin tells you, “I have to make you feel good again”.

He straightens his body slightly and puts a condom on. It is tight around the base, and too slippery for his own liking, but he can't complain about it when you're patiently waiting for him. 

Your eyes never abandon his figure, and just the sight of him unwrapping a fucking condom and putting it on is more than enough to make you clench around thin air. And you're too lost in that thought, of how strikingly beautiful Hyunjin looks tonight, that you don't feel any sort of panic until the tip of his dick slides against your slit.

This is really happening, you think to yourself, and suddenly all the oxygen from the room has vanished, leaving you with a heavy chest and an awful sensation that you're choking.

“You okay?” He asks when he catches a glimpse of your furrowed eyebrows.

“Just nervous,” your eyes dart between his face and the parts of your bodies where you almost meet. You've heard awful stories about first times, involving a lot of pain and discomfort; why would yours be any different than those?

You feel your heart beating in anticipation, and your throat gets dry.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to kiss you, “I’ll be careful”. 

You nod, because you know he is telling the truth. So you brace yourself by holding his biceps, watching as he guides his dick inside of you.

“Inhale,” he tells you, and you follow. Your lungs get filled with fresh air until they hurt, until you no longer can harbor any more oxygen.

And only then, the tip of it slides right in easily, with just the tiniest bit of discomfort —your fingers and toys are not close to the size he is.

“Fuck”. 

“Let it all out,” and you exhale deeply, relaxing underneath him as he finally bottoms out. He stays there, without moving, feeling how your walls adapt to his girth. Hyunjin kisses your cheek, and snuggles his face in the crook of your neck to leave a couple of them there, too, “good job”. 

You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck just as your legs wrap around his hips.

His weight on top of you feels nice, just as it does having him inside of you. But you're desperate to know how he really feels, so you prompt him to move.

“I’ll go slow,” and he sticks to his word. His thrusts are slow, but deep —every time he bottoms out, you moan.

You're just getting used to him, so the way he is fucking you is more than enough for now. And it is enough for him, too —if he goes any faster, he is sure he will come.

But he maintains a certain pace, and your bodies get to meet each other in a way they hadn't before. 

“Does it feel good?” You ask him in a murmur, and he hums in response.

“So good,” his eyes never leave yours. “You feel so good, your pussy feels so good”.

You bite your lips, wanting to hold back whatever reaction his words elicit from you. 

There's something lewd about his voice, and the way he says things tonight. There's something lewd in the way you like it, too.

“You feel good too,” you compliment him, caressing the sides of his face. “Want to come again, with you”. 

Hyunjin nods, as if you’re giving him an order for him to follow. But you might as well have, because he takes it upon himself to give you what you want. One of his hands sneak between your sweaty bodies, and albeit difficult, he manages to position the tip of his fingers over your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as his thrusts.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, closing your eyes shut when you feel a pinch of pain from the overstimulation. 

It's crazy how many things Hyunjin has learned about you in the past hour.

“Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” He manages to ask, and you nod frantically.

His hand then withdraws from your clit, and when you're about to protest, you notice his mouth is leaning closer to your chest, “what-”. 

He then latches his tongue around one of your hardened nipples, and you become a mess of whimpers underneath him.

“And this?” Hyunjin asks with his lips attached to the flesh of your breast, “does it feel good when I do this?”

You might as well have figured something about you.

“It feels so good, Hyunjin,” you chant, with teary eyes that threaten to start bawling in ecstasy, “so good, fuck, so good”.

He continues, sucking on your nipple while his fingers tease the other. And you really seem to like it because you can't stop moaning, because all your hands do is to force him even more against your chest. 

“Squeezing me so good,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, losing control of himself as he feels you clenching around him. He's drooling over your breasts, swollen and pink lips dragging across your flesh while his hips start spasming, “God, you’re so fucking tight”.

You sneak a hand between your bodies, and when your digits brush against your clit, you feel your body jolting, and the tension threatening to unravel. 

You're so close, again.

And you hope he is close too.

“I’m-” You don't manage to finish the sentence when Hyunjin's fingers replace yours, “Hyunjin!”

You mean to keep your eyes open, to look at him in between, but you finally give up to the overwhelming pleasure. You close them shut, and all you're left with is the feeling of Hyunjin's body against yours, and the sounds you and him are eliciting from each other. 

“Close?” And you nod frantically, tightening your limbs around him —your arms around his neck, your legs around his lower back. 

You’ve hugged Hyunjin before, but nothing will ever compare to this; to your naked bodies pressing together, to his lips murmuring sweet nothings against yours. 

To share something as intimate as an orgasm can be.

“Coming,” you whisper weakly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. And at the same time, Hyunjin lets out a painful, choked groan.

His throat hurt at it, but not nearly as much as the tension finally unraveling did. 

Not as much as the sight of your hazy eyes looking up at him as you both come down from your highs.

Not as much as the realization that it was all over.

“Hyunjin,” you whimper again, and your loud heartbeats, and the way you're still clenching around him is preventing him from listening to your voice. He sees your lips moving, but he is too far gone in the bliss of his orgasm to care.

“God,” you close your eyes shut and hide your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. 

You don’t want him to let go of you, to pull out. You want to stay like this for as long as you’re able to.

And Hyunjin wants it too, plopping all of his weight carefully on top of you. He presses a kiss to your temple, and then your forehead. Nothing in his life has ever felt this good before, and he fears he might not be able to live a moment like this again.

"Did I hurt you?" He just has to ask again, now that you're settled between his arms.

You shake your head subtly, and look up at him with so much gloss and sentiment he feels a pinch of hope you feel the same way he feels about you. 

"Not once," you exhale, offering the most beautiful smile Hyunjin has seen on you.

And when you press a quick peck to his lips and snuggle right next to him, with your head on his chest and your hand over his abdomen, 

he just knows it will happen again. 

And again.

And again.

And again.

Bonus note: If you liked this, PLEASE let me know. I'm kind of nervous putting this out there because I've been away for so long, I'm not even sure if this is any good. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. It is nice to connect with past hobbies to be honest.

Love you all! And take care!

[stupidstupidratcreatures]

caught up with what happens next. thoughts mostly about the comment section under the cut sorry

1. it's always been really interesting to me just how abstract a depiction of a person can be and still have people that find that depiction hot. i check the comments because i'm a dipshit and there are pretty consistently 2-3 people under any vikki or gage panel there for that. also shoutout to that one "when vicki's done resting her head on her mom's lap can i have a turn" comment

2. there's a lot of speculation-presented-as-fact about 202X griffin in the comments and it all feels like stuff we kinda can't know? we've only ever seen him post-murder in that photo with gage and we haven't seen current griffin "in person" at all. this isn't normally something i would care about or disagree with but it doesn't seem like what current griffin is actually like as a person is relevant at all to the role he's playing in the story right now

3. hm it's like very possible that in-fiction named himself after the mcelroy brother huh. what year would it have been like 2014? scary stuff

4. there are like a pretty large number of people ripping on milo in the comment section also. that feels weird. i get disliking That Type Of Guy but he was made to cut up his dead friend with a saw and then also institutionalized for five years. can we be nice

5. i feel like there's stuff here that shows this comic's age even in the three years since it started. gage is less of an extant guyotype than he used to be (as in the cultural signifiers and the true crime/serial killing obsession. "poor and isolated trans guy who talks to people online" is not someone going away so long as poverty, transmasculinity, and the internet exist). vikki says "because of woke" in a panel that's meant to be part of the same scene as the very first page and that definitely isn't something they were saying in 2021. the look of the tumblr ui, that thing max graves draws a lot, has changed drastically since the comic started. i don't mean this in a cinemasins way i just mean this like. idk. the way time moves so much faster than any webcomic updating schedule does is just something that i think about and this comic gives me a lot of occasion to think about it. it's very good

[isolaradiale]

. . . . .

"Mmhm, I see, I see... Your father did tell us you had a bit of a mishap with your art project. We couldn't help coming to give some advice." Solaris muses, circling the diorama of the city. Currently, it's been moved to a coffee table.

"Yes, he told me I should try and spin it as if I had done such a thing on purpose. But I don't see how I could possibly..." "Oh, we had an idea for that!"

Mimosa flutters from behind, resting her hands on Janus' shoulders. The glint of mischief hiding in her rosy glasses does not escape his notice.

"We could help you mirror it in the city proper, you know!" "What?" "It's an interesting theory. The structures you made still stand, but what gives them life and personality has been greyed out." "I wouldn't say that--" "So how do you fix it? Do you paint them with the hues and values they're supposed to be, or do you pick something new?" "What do you do with the spots where the paint bled together? Do you paint over that, too?"

As the two bounce back and forth in this terrible game of brainstorming, Janus begins to put his hands to his cheeks in mounting horror.

"Oh, no. No no no. Absolutely not--" "If we make someone look like an old black and white movie, what happens? Will they try to change to technicolour?" "Would they paint themselves the colour palettes they're used to? Maybe it's something entirely different. If we make those hues correspond with their personalities..." "I--I'll have no part in this! The last time something like this happened, everything--" "Ah-ah, don't worry."

Mimosa leaves Janus side to twirl next to Solaris, who makes an artful pose himself, as if framing the splotchy mess of a diorama in his hands.

"We have this one completely under control. Not like last time." "I'll make sure of it. Just a little bit of editing... ah, Mimosa, what if we..."

Janus can only move his head as the two take their leave, watching them scheme and snicker. He turns back to look at the model of the city. And in a scramble that almost makes him trip over his own feet, he rushes to his boxes of paints.

"--I have to at least put the base coat back on, or they really won't have anything at all!"

. . . . .

Welcome to another zany event for the fall season! It looks like Mimosa and Solaris aren't done causing trouble, but this time, it should be harmless. Right? (Right...?)

Taking inspiration from a creative mishap, the Stars have decided to effectively render the city in greyscale--including the people residing in it--to see what really makes everyone so colourful. Thankfully, most people will start with a base hue.

What does that mean, though? Here's a handy-dandy list of notes!

As soon as it strikes midnight that night, your muse will find that they've been completely greyscaled, save for one colour that represents who they are at their core, and only that colour! - Think of it like those 'what colour is your soul' quizzes. If your muse was only one hue, what would it be? For example, a character that is inherently cheery might turn completely yellow or pink, while a hot-headed character may turn red or orange to reflect their personality.

Your muse cannot help but feel and act whatever hue/personality they seem to be. However! The more your muse interacts with the people around them, the more colours (and feelings/facets of their personality) will open up to them. This will also physically reflect on them. - If your cheery yellow muse bumps into a sad, blue muse, you'll both have a new colour to express. Now you can feel happy (yellow) AND sad (blue)! And perhaps a sort of melancholy joy, like watching your best friend win that prize you wanted instead of you. Of course, you're happy for them, but sad you didn't win. - Or maybe those two colours mix into being green with envy... And suddenly, you have a new colour ;3

Any inanimate object your muse interacts with (except their Island Issued Cell Phone) will take on your muse's hue. Every step you take will leave a colourful footprint in its wake, every hand rail will have colourful handprints. More on that later.

With enough interactions and perspectives, your muse will be back to their old selves in no time! If, that is, they want to go back to their old selves at all. Maybe another colour palette suits them better than before...?

"It can't be that easy, though."

And, you're right! The experiment did more than reduce everyone to solid (or no) colours! Some other strange things are happening, too. Such as...

The NPCs of the city have not escaped unscathed. Unlike you, though, they have no hue to them at all. However, they'll absorb colours from your muses by proximity and action. - If your deep-green jealous muse is around, NPCs will turn deep-green too, and may want what you have--and might try to take it by force. But a calm mint-coloured muse may just leave you alone and soak up some vibes. - This extends to creatures of the island, too, so watch out!

Sources of water in the city (the ocean, lakes, ponds, swimming pools, etc) will wash away at least one colour from you. (You can still drink and cook with it without any effect, though.) Better not get caught in a rainstorm any time soon!

To combat this, you can find paint cans with a random colour paint in them around the city. You never know what you're going to get, though!

The city itself is completely greyscale, so navigating it might be a challenge without any colourful landmarks to stand out. That being said, your muse will leave colour wherever they go, like they're a giant paint roller. And so will everyone else's muses! Figuring out populated areas will be Very Easy, but you might get disoriented in places that don't get a lot of foot traffic.

These are the major issues...... for now :)

FAQ

"Do I have to pick a hue at the beginning? I can't decide on one."

It's entirely possible that your muse can start in greyscale, and just has No Personality. In that case, they'll take on the hue of the first person they interact with.

"What do we do if a colour has multiple associations with it?"

Each association of that colour is a valid one, and there are no incorrect colour associations. Each colour is whatever you need it to be in the moment. The definition of "red" for your muse may not match the "red" of your RP partner--and that's okay! What may be helpful is to make an event info post explaining your colour choice, how you interpret it, and how it would affect your character!

"Do we have to stick to basic colours like red, yellow, green, blue, etc?"

Nope. Maybe your muse is a mauve, emerald, beige, or aquamarine. Pick any colour you think is best for the moment!

"In theory, could we use the paint cans laying around to add hues to others by splashing them with it or something?"

PVP is enabled, if you want to be a menace! (with mun permission, of course)

"Is the comic in black and white for plot reasons?"

No, I'm just lazy :c

Have a question you don't see on here? You can message the Masterlist!

See you in a week! Make sure to get as many colour perspectives as you can, okay? :)

[eggmeralda]

if I had a nickel for everytime a funny little guy from an album cover by a band I don't regularly listen to evoked something vague and unknown in my soul and haunted my thoughts during late january/early february, I would have two nickels

[xxplastic-cubexx]

so like do you think they made the plastic wheelchair ALONGSIDE the plastic prison as a Just In Case situation, only after they realized charles was going to be a frequent visitor, or both as in because they knew charles was going to be the only person visiting him during planning they decided to make him a chair ahead of time

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)