#like he might be able to snatch it and then use it on someone else later rather than it being reflected back on the original caster

[egophiliac]

So.... what are your thoughts on Ace's UM, if you haven't been asked this already?

sneaky magic for the sneakiest boy

no but really, I think it fits him really well! I had thought his UM would probably involve something kinda sleight-of-handy or pickpockety! and I looooved that it made such a nice loop-around back to episode 1. ❤️ I was. kind of half-expecting him to just run out and punch Riddle in the nose again. but instead this time 'twas he who offed the queen's head! it was great! and he did it while stone-cold terrified out of his mind! because Ace is the only remotely normal or well-adjusted person at NRC and therefore the only one who is like "we're going to literally die, this is super effed up". but he did it anyway!!!! I AM SO PROUD

[narnian-neverlander]

One Night Stands Only [Jason Todd x GN!Reader]

Summary: It’s obvious Jason only has one night stands - right?

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4,6k

Warnings: none

A/N: Came across the DC Valentine’s special again and… yeah. Decided to do sth about it 💁

If you use any of my works for AI I will hunt you down for sport 😬

“You were right, it’s a nice place.” Bernard nods appraisingly, glancing around the newly opened bookstore, little café situated right in the middle. It’s not a new concept by any means, but the high ceilings and big windows allow the little natural light Gotham has to brighten the entire place and the cozy couches and booths scattered between shelves make for a nice and different respite from what the city usually has to offer. Tim hums in approval as he glances over the menu again. “Yeah; quiet, comfy, good coffee selection. I should thank the person who recommended it.”

“And who was that?” Bernard asks over his shoulder before greeting the girl working the counter and placing their order. Tim’s brows immediately furrow. “It was… I heard about it from… Uhm…” The blonde chuckles as he steers his boyfriend towards a nearby table, eyes flicking towards a corner sofa. “You think it might’ve been your brother?” Tim snorts. “Which one?” He receives a gesture at something behind him as an answer and finds Jason sitting on one of the couches a little further back, book propped open in his lap and a few more stacked on the small, round table in front of him and Tim nods. “Okay, sure, that tracks.” Bernard watches over Tim’s shoulder a few moments longer, then a small smile forms on his face. “I mean, yeah, it is a nice place for a date.”

Tim’s head snaps back around so fast it’s comical, a disbelieving, almost scandalized ‘Date?!’ out of his mouth before he can stop it. Sure enough, someone else has joined his brother, just in the process of placing two cups on the table - or trying to anyways; an almost impossible task with the amount of books already occupying the small space. And while he might not be able to hear either of you, he wouldn’t be part of a family of world class detectives if he couldn’t read lips.

‘Okay, should I just get like, a whole teapot now? How long do you plan on being here?’

‘Eh, not long.’

‘Jay, even you can’t read five books at once.’

‘Watch me.’

A cocky grin and an eyebrow waggle, which earns him an eye roll from the mystery person, albeit attached to a fond smile, followed by a shooing motion to scoot further down the sofa and make space, to which he obliges immediately. Tucked into Jason’s side, his arm coming around your shoulders entirely too naturally as both of you go back to your books, seemingly all settled and content to simply be in the other’s presence like this.

Tim turns back to his boyfriend with brows drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers tapping his chin in thought - and Bernard knows exactly what that look means. “Tim, switch outta detective mode. Your brother has a date, so what?” But the gears are clearly already turning and not stopping anytime soon. “It’s just… Jason only has one night stands.” It’s a look somewhere between surprise, disbelief and even offense before the blonde speaks up again. “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? You don’t know if—“ Tim vehemently shakes his head to interrupt him. “No, no, I mean that’s literally what he told me; what he tells anyone from the family who asks, as far as I’m aware.”

Bernard’s eyes move over to the couch again, simply observing for a few seconds before he shrugs. “Well, one night stands don’t exclude a date. Or maybe he’s changed his mind. People are allowed to do that, you know.” he says with an easy grin right as the little round sensor on their table starts vibrating, indicating their order is ready. He snatches the device up and stands, placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder, effectively gaining his attention. “Either way, I don’t think it’s anything for you to lose sleep over. Or any of your business, to be honest. If he is in a relationship and you don’t know, I’m sure he has his reasons.” He grabs the hand Tim has been busy biting the cuticles off of and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Just let it go, detective.”

With that he’s gone to pick up their drinks, meanwhile Tim almost turns his head to look at the couple again, but ultimately decides against it, instead racking his brain for wether or not any of his other siblings ever mentioned Jason having a partner, but nothing comes to mind. Fingers drumming against the table, he’s one spiraling thought away from getting up and going over there to satisfy the annoying itch of curiosity, but then he watches Bernard walk back towards him, a coffee cup in each hand and a happy smile on his face, his own heart skipping a beat at the sight, and he realizes that his boyfriend’s right. It doesn’t matter right now, nor is it any of his business; if this is someone, important to Jason, he would tell them - in his own time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay I had my doubts, but that was pretty good.” Stephanie states as she stretches her arms over her head, following the crowds out of the theater into the big entrance hall. Cass grins and nods enthusiastically in agreement, while Babs only shrugs and hums in thought. “I mean, sure, it was good; solid storytelling, breathtaking visuals, but—“

“I still think the book’s better, though.”

They all know it’s exactly what the redhead was gonna say, but it doesn’t come from her. Even so, the voice is familiar and all three of their heads snap up almost in unison to look for the source.

A joyful laugh, from around the pillar a little ways in front of them, followed by, “That’s the most Jason thing you could’ve said, ya know.”

Now that voice isn’t familiar to any of them, neither is the person who appears in their field of view a second later, hands linked with someone still hidden by the pillar - not that it’s still much of a secret who it is.

“So? It’s still true.”

The soft grin on the stranger’s face morphs into something more mischievous. “Riiight. I’m sure you hated every second of this. That’s why I saw some tears during a scene or two.”

A squeak as the person gets yanked forward, disappearing from sight again; then laughs can be heard accompanied with, “It was dark, you didn’t see shit.”

The three girls exchange glances, all wide eyes and raised brows. Then they watch the couple walk out into the open of the entrance hall, towards the exit, one of Jason’s arm’s wrapped tightly around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Cassandra is the first to shake off the stupor, a soft smile spreading across her face. “They’re cute together.” she signs. “Yeeeaaahhh…” Steph starts, staring at the doors the two had just left through. “Too cute. And definitely too familiar to just be a one night stand.” The wicked grin is a telltale sign of trouble and Barbara pinches the bridge of her nose because it doesn’t bode well for anybody.

“Just leave it alone, Steph.”

“Oh come on!” the blonde complains. “He’s the one who’s been telling us for ages that he doesn’t do relationships and now he’s out here all sweet and cozy and lovey dovey with someone? And you’re not the least bit curious? I say we investigate!”

Barbara levels her with a blank stare. “And you don’t think that might be the exact reason he doesn’t tell us anything?” Stephanie narrows her eyes at the redhead in suspicion. It’s unlike her, unlike Oracle, not to want all the details of a situation. “Did you already know?”

“Whatever gives you that idea?”

“Because you know everything. And wouldn’t you—“

Barbara doesn’t let her finish. “Would you want a date to be interrupted by your siblings just cause they feel like annoying you? Pestering you about your partner? Jason isn’t the most open, conversational person at the best of times; what do you think is gonna happen if he catches onto your little investigation?”

Steph is about to argue back that sure, while there’s some personal entertainment value involved, she just doesn’t like the idea of someone she cares about being with someone she doesn’t know. What if they’re not a good person? What if they end up hurting him? What if—

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand on her shoulder and she turns to find herself looking straight into Cass’ dark eyes, her expression serious.

“They really like him, don’t meddle.” she signs.

That takes some of the wind out of Stephanie’s sails and she visibly deflates a bit. “You, uh… you could tell, huh?” The black haired girl nods eagerly and Steph runs a hand through her hair in contemplation. People are an open book to Cassandra, without her ever having to have exchanged a single word with them. If she says you’re fine, that you truly like Jason and have no bad intentions, then… then Steph could leave it alone with an easy conscience. For now, anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for the assist, Master Richard, but I assure you, while welcome, it was not necessary.”

“It’s fine, Alfred.” Dick reassures while loading the last of the groceries into the back of the car. “I know you can handle the regular grocery shopping just fine, but it’s rare to have that many people at once at the manor; I’m glad to help out.”

The older man gives him a grateful smile in return, then plucks a piece of paper from inside his coat pocket and checks it over. “Oh dear, I do believe I’ve missed something.” he mumbles and hands the list over to Dick. “Master Richard, would you mind looking our current purchase over again, just in case? I’ll be right back.”

He watches Alfred hurry back towards the store, someone else exiting when he’s a few feet away from the entrance. A short exchange, quick thanks presumably, as the person holds the door open for him. Then you steer left, in his general direction and—

Hold on. He wasn’t here when him and Alfred got outta the store a few minutes ago.

The parking lot is situated lower than the actual store, some stairs to his right leading up to the higher level, so Dick takes a few steps backwards and cranes his neck back slightly, a leafless hedge partly blocking his view, but the tall, broad stature clad in a leather jacket and the black and white hair are a dead give away. He’s about to call out, surely his brother just didn’t spot him yet, but someone beats him to it.

“Okay, let’s go home.”

The person who’d just left the store. Most definitely talking to Jason. And you seem more than a little annoyed and exasperated.

Meanwhile his brother looks like he’s trying not to burst out laughing.

“What?” the mystery person barks, eyes narrowed at the tall man suspiciously.

“I know I did not just watch you whack an old lady over the head with a magazine cause she tried to take the steak from you.”

“It was the last one!” you complain and the tension bleeds from Dick’s shoulders as he realizes that this is in no way a serious altercation. “Besides, Constance had it coming, not the first time she tried to pull a stunt like that; she’s a fucking menace to everybody.”

Silence for a few long seconds. Then, “If you laugh right now, I swear to God I’m leaving you out on the street tonight, Todd.”

Jason snorts. “And then who’s gonna make the food you fought so hard to get? Sure as shit not you; last time I left you alone with the stove, I thought Firefly had broken into the apartment.”

Dick watches his brother’s conversation partner huff, arms crossed over your chest in defiance as you stare Jason down - until your shoulders sag in defeat and you break eye contact, because apparently, he’s right. “You’re lucky you’ve got other talents besides just being pretty, you know that?”

Jason takes the bags from you, met with only mild complaints, as he grins. “You think I’m pretty? Aw, thanks, babe.” You roll your eyes at that, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips either way. “Leave the corny flirting to Nightwing, it doesn’t suit you.” And Jason actually has the audacity to scrunch up his face in distaste. “Hey now. I was only teasing you; comparing me to him is a straight up insult, take it back.”

“Make me~” you taunt with a sing-song voice and a mirthful smirk, then take off full speed in the opposite direction, past the store, with Jason hot on your heels not a second later.

And Dick hasn’t seen his little brother wear a smile that big in such a long time, he almost forgets to be offended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian isn’t sure why he’s even here. It’s not like this has any actual academic value for him.

That’s Chrysaora fuscescens.

Over there, Hippocampus hippocampus.

And that one’s Anguilla dieffenbachii.

He’s studied all these creatures and more before and even if he wouldn’t learn anything new about aquatic dwellers, his father had insisted on him going on this field trip. Something about a chance to ‘improve his social skills’.

Tt.

If that’s the mission he’d been given, he’d succeed. Even if he thought it utterly unnecessary. At least he could do it in the presence of one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet, the mighty—

“Shark! Jason, look, there it is!”

With the level of excitement, one would think it’s coming from a child, but no, it’s very much an adult, standing in front of the big glass tank, in the company of Todd of all people. Damian slows his steps to a halt, coming from one of the smaller side entrances that lead to the huge room, and simply observes from a safe distance.

“Uh huh, I see it. And I feel like now would be a good time to remind you that you have plenty of shark memorabilia and that we’ll simply be walking past the gift shop later.”

An inelegant snort, as the person side eyes him with amusement. “Would now be a good time to remind you that we both know that’s not happening?”

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose as he heaves a sigh, but Damian detects no true malice in it. He’s seen him truly irritated, angry - this is nothing of the sort. Fond exasperation, if anything.

“I know they’re nowhere near as dangerous as the media likes to make them out to be,” Jason starts, “but I’m still not sure how you can look at something decidedly dangerous, built for killing, and think it’s… cute.”

The look he receives in return is one Damian can’t quite identify and apparently neither can his brother.

“What?”

“Really? You can’t figure that out?” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head to the side in thought. “Well, I think you should meet my boyfriend, then. Cause ya know, he’s pretty dangerous and rough around the edges, too, and I still think he’s cute.”

Jason mimics your stance as he responds. “Oh, do you now?”

You nod eagerly, grinning ear to ear. “Of course. When he gets up all groggy with a bed head cause he works late? Cute. When he pretends to get annoyed at his best friend cause he called him a silly nickname? Cute. When—“ That’s as far you get, interrupted by your own squeal, as Jason brings one arm around your shoulders to pull you in and smoosh your face against his chest, the other around your waist so you can’t escape. “Yeah, yeah, got it; I think I’ve heard enough about that guy now.”

Meanwhile you’ve managed to gain enough wiggle room to loop your arms around his neck and pull back to look up at him, lopsided, lovesick smile plastered all over your face. “Sorry, I can’t help it sometimes; I love him very much.” And it’s embarrassing, Damian thinks, how fast Jason breaks, all affectionate grin and soft eyes, just because someone is batting their lashes at him. “Well, he’d be a fool not to love you back.”

Damian turns away in disgust right as the couple is about to share a kiss and retreats down the hallway he came from. He’d never taken Todd for a particularly… honorable man, but courting someone he knows to be in a relationship with someone else? That’s a vile breach of trust that he won’t stand for. And, if he bothered to be honest with himself, not something he could actually see Todd engaging in. Despite his many flaws, he’s proven himself a loyal man often enough. But Damian can’t ignore what he heard with his own ears, that would be disregarding incriminating evidence, so he’ll need to have a talk with his father as soon as he gets home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re curled up on the couch book in hand when the front door all but flies open, your boyfriend hurrying inside and immediately locking the door behind him again. Before you even get a chance to greet him, he’s speeding through the rest of the apartment, making sure all the windows are shut tight and locked, too. You’ve put the book away, instead staring at him over the back of the couch with raised, quizzical brows when he comes back down the hallway into the living room, finally kicking off his boots at the entrance and hanging up his jacket. Then he beelines for the sofa, lifting up your legs to make room and plop himself down, settling your legs in his lap before he tips his head back and scrubs his hands over his face with a groan.

“Okay, Jay? I need you to talk to me; what kind of apocalypse should I be preparing for here?”

He doesn’t answer for a few long seconds, simply drops his hands from his face, his fingers coming to draw anxious patterns into your thighs instead. “Yeah, we’re totally busted. They know about you now.” And as miserable as he looks, as much as you know that spending time with his family is often draining and challenging for him, you can’t help the relieved laugh that bubbles up out of your throat, because with they way he’d just put your apartment on complete lockdown, you’d been expecting something - or someone - way worse.

Still chuckling, you grab one of his hands and squeeze. “Sweetheart, your family literally consists of detectives. In my opinion, we’re damn lucky to have even made it this long without them knowing.” He sighs, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “I’m not convinced Babs didn’t know before tonight. That woman knows everything.” While you’ve only heard stories and seen some pictures of the redhead, you have absolutely no trouble believing that. “So what happened, anyways?”

He mulls it over for a moment. “Well, I think it started when Damian tried to have me disowned.” You almost choke on nothing but air, a sound somewhere between a snort, a cough and a laugh leaving you. “Okay, you’ve completely lost me, babe.”

“Honestly, I was mostly just surprised I’m even still in the will.” A not so gentle nudge of your foot, an annoyed whine of his name because sure, you’d play along for now. Let him get the jokes and sass out of his system and pretend that you don’t see that the lazy grin he gives you is forced. That you don’t feel one his feet tapping the floor anxiously. That you don’t notice the way his eyes keep flicking towards the window and the door, like he’s expecting them to be kicked down any second now. “Apparently Damian saw us at the aquarium together and somehow assumed I’m your, uh, your mistress? And thought it dishonorable enough to bring up disowning me because of it.” Admittedly, picturing that elicits a real laugh, one you try to hide, but the next part still comes out as more of a wheeze than anything else. “And he just… what? Brought that up casually over dinner?” Jason shrugs. “Basically. Tried to talk my way outta it, but turns out some of the others saw us together, too, and things just spiraled from there.” It’s quiet for only a moment, then you, very much still intent on helping him distract himself from whatever it is that’s truly eating at him, but mixed with just a tad of entertained curiosity now, hit him with, “Well, yeah, makes sense; you have been getting sloppy.” His head shoots up from the back of the couch so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap and he actually looks offended. “How exactly is this my fault?”

“Come on, Jay. First couple of months of this relationship you wouldn’t even leave the house with me. Now? Grocery shopping, the movies, café dates, the aquarium - we’re barely apart, so it really was only a matter of time till they figured it out.” Rolling his eyes, he slides further down his seat and pouts, fully aware that technically you are correct - doesn’t mean he has to like it. “Great, helpful as ever, darling. And what do you, in your infinite wisdom, suggest we do about this now?” You regard him in silence for a moment: how he fiddles with your fingers, the set of his jaw, the furrow in his brows, the way every muscle in his body seems tense.

“Hey…” you murmur gently, interlacing your fingers. “Why do we have to do anything about this? What are you so worried about? I promise not to bite them when I meet them. Unless you want me to.” Careful prodding, still interlaced with humor - to let him know he can talk to you about it, but only if he wants to. He huffs out a quiet laugh, giving your intertwined hands a squeeze. “You can be such a gremlin sometimes, do you know that?” Bringing a hand to your chest in mock offense, you grin at him. “Oh, you do not get to call me a gremlin when you’re the one who consistently feeds me after midnight and gets me plenty wet.” The following eye brow waggle from your side is what breaks him; a full blown, joyful laugh as he shifts, picking you up and depositing you on his lap sideways, his arms encircling your middle, some of the previous tension visibly leaving his face. “See, that’s the exact kinda shit I don’t need you saying around them, cause I’ll never live that down.” Humming in thought, you get comfortable in your new position, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Sounds like a you problem, though.” It earns you a playful pinch to your sides that has you batting at his arms and hands to try and get him to stop; a fruitless effort of course, but he eventually settles his hands back on your hips. In turn, you place a hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat; most definitely too fast for simply fooling around with and teasing you. He’s not just worried, he’s scared, so you decide the time for games is over. “I’m being serious, though, what’s the matter? This isn’t anything you actually need to be concerned over, is it? It’s really not that big of a deal. So what if they know about me? So what if I eventually meet them now; not like it’s gonna change anything between us.” It’s small and if you didn’t know him as well you did, you probably would’ve missed it or written it off as irrelevant: the way he ever so slightly flinches at the last part.

Bingo.

But you don’t push, you know better. You let him get his thoughts in order, shifting restlessly beneath you while he does and let him answer in his own time.

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

A sigh, then you feel him rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“I dunno. Being around you is always so… easy. Comforting. Being with them isn’t. It’s complicated and it’s messy and overall just exhausting, most of the time. It’s not all bad, just…” He shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to get rid of an onslaught of memories; good or bad, you’re not entirely sure. “I guess I just don’t want them rubbing off on you, is all.” Pulling back to look at him, you find his eyes elsewhere, anywhere but you, desperate to avoid your scrutiny. “In other words, you’re worried your relationship with them, their opinions of you, are gonna affect mine, right?” He still can’t bring himself to look at you when he mumbles, “Basically…”

You shuffle about until you get your legs back under you, straddling him and cupping his face in your palms, running your thumbs along his cheek bones until he willingly brings his unnaturally green eyes back to yours and you feel like your heart might crack at the uncertainty you find there. “You’re forgetting that, aside from you, I’m probably the most stubborn person in this city; once I’ve made up my mind, it’s hard to change it. If anything, you should be worried about me not shutting the fuck up about how amazing and wonderful you are around them.” He scoffs and tries to turn his head out of your hold, but you refuse to let go and press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose instead, effectively stunning him into obedience. “Uh uh, you’re not going anywhere, I’m not finished yet. I’m on your side, okay? Even if it feels like nobody else is. I’m judging you based on my experiences with you, not theirs. And sure, not everything’s been great; you’re not perfect and neither am I, but that’s human. We live and we learn and we fuck up and then we try again. And I know you try, Jason. Every day, I know you’re trying. Trying to navigate a second life you never asked for. Trying to live in a body that never feels right, no matter how much time passes. Trying to mend the bonds with a family that more often than not still sees the ghost of a boy looking back at them, instead of the man you’ve become. Trying to make things better in this city, so that no one has to go through the same things you did. And nothing your family could say or do or show me is ever gonna change what I see with my own eyes.” He’s been silent this entire time, letting you speak, but you watched his shoulders slump, the tension that’s kept him wound up like a spring finally dissipating, and his own hands are now gently holding onto your wrists.

“And what do you see?”

It’s barely above a whisper, so quiet, you almost miss it despite how close you are.

You don’t have all the answers. You don’t actually know what meeting his family is gonna be like, how it might affect your relationship, but this? Oh, this you can answer just fine.

“A man who’s scarred and deeply flawed, but is still trying to do better, to be better. A man who wants to make up for the mistakes he did make, but sometimes nobody cares to listen. A man who, for all his efforts to appear ruthless, is still the most caring person I know. I see a man who, despite life never having been kind to him, retained a kind soul.”

And with the way he’s looking at you right now? Nothing but wonder and admiration and affection written all over his face? How could you not be sure about what you’re gonna say next? Sure that no one, absolutely no one, would ever be able to change your mind about him.

“I see the love of my life.”

[obsessedwithceleste]

In Between the Lost and Found

Blaise Zabini x reader

week 3 of @acourtofchaos 's Festival of AUs

Summary: Soulmate! au— From a very young age, Blaise had always been taught to value his possessions. Because if you lose something, it winds up in the hands of your soulmate and you very well may never see it again.

word count: 5.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Blaise Zabini’s dormitory was picturesque. Almost like it had been snatched right out of the pages of Witch Weekly’s home and living catalogue. In fact, it was to the point where it was almost too perfect. Every single item in the room had its place, meticulously and painstakingly organized by the inch so nothing went missing. Ever.

Sure over the years a quill or two might have been misplaced. Maybe some loose change here and there. But Blaise had learned very early on to treat his things with care because when an item was lost by its owner, it would end up in the possession of their soulmate. And there was no guarantee that you would meet your soulmate in your lifetime, so it was best to keep a close eye on anything of value to you.

It could not be said that the same lesson had been instilled in his soulmate however. It seemed like every other day a runaway sweater, a hairbrush, even a half written essay once, appeared in his possession. Now, most people over the course of their lifetime, would keep all of these things. Hoarding them in hopes of being able to use them as clues to find their soulmate, but not Blaise.

He knew well and good that someone out there was missing these things, probably looking about frantically in hopes that they’d find them before they were teleported off. And so every time a new item showed up, he’d make sure to lose it just as quickly, tossing it out the window or leaving it behind in an empty classroom. They were just things after all. And he didn’t want his soulmate to miss them.

On the flip side, your dormitory was a disaster zone. Or some might say it was at least, Blaise for example. But you preferred the term ‘organized chaos’. There was a method in all the madness after all. Sort of. See at the ripe old age of seventeen, you’d come to terms with the fact that you didn’t have a soulmate.

A harsh reality perhaps, but it did come with some perks you supposed. Like the fact that you didn’t have to meticulously keep track of every single item in your possession because you knew you’d always find it eventually.

Of course there’d been many a time where you’d gotten your hopes up. A sweater had gone missing and you’d sworn you’d looked for it in every nook and cranny you could think of. You’d dared to convince yourself that maybe you really hadn’t lost anything else before. But then it had turned up under your bed almost as if it were mocking you.

To make matters worse, you’d never received a lost item either. Not even as a child. Most kids delighted in at least a few lost toys or trinkets falling into their possession, but you hadn’t even been granted that.

It had been an endless, painful cycle until you finally made peace with the fact that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. It was exceedingly rare, but you’d heard of a case or two of someone just not having a soulmate. You tried not to think about it too much, but when the signs were all there, well.

“Are you quite positive you don’t want to come to the manor with us?” Daphne Greengrass presses one last time, sitting across from you in the Great Hall.

It was the first morning of break and anyone who was going home for the holiday would be leaving shortly. Daphne and Astoria had been insisting you come with them for the break as you wouldn’t be returning home, but you just hadn’t wanted to be a burden.

“I promise mother and father won’t mind, and even if they do, I doubt they’d notice for the first few days anyway. It’s not like they ever pay Astoria or I any mind.”

You have to laugh at your friend’s words despite the fact that, like your own parents, hers didn’t exactly shower her with attention. At least not like the Malfoy’s did for their only son. But that would be rather suffocating you supposed.

“I’ll be fine here. Promise. Besides, I don’t think Blaise has any plans on going home either, so I’ll have company,” you tell her.

A sly grin forms on your friend’s face as she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Mhmm I’m sure Blaise will keep you wonderfully occupied,” she teases, giving you a knowing look that causes heat to rise to your cheeks.

“Oh shut up, you know as well as I do that he has a soulmate out there somewhere,” you hiss, tossing a breakfast roll at the girl.

“Right, as if that means anything,” Daphne replies, rolling her eyes, “Surely the universe isn’t expecting everyone to just sit around waiting and hoping for their soulmate to appear.”

You feel your shoulders sag a bit, just from the thought of the whole idea of soulmates. You know Daph means well, but the thought of being with someone who very much had a soulmate just felt— wrong. Like you were messing with fate. Or stealing? That wasn’t the right word for it, but it felt wrong. You couldn’t describe it.

Besides, as if she were one to talk. She had a soulmate. And she knew who they were. Even if she was choosing to ignore it.

Daphne seems to be able to read your shift in spirit, as she leans towards you, face clearly showing concern.

“Look, all I’m saying is you don’t deserve to be counted out just because you’ve never had someone else’s junk magically become your problem. Okay?”

You’re able to manage a small smile as you nod along with your friend’s words; Daph always knew just what to say.

“I have to finish packing a few last things. Come help? I want to spend every last moment here with you. I don’t know what I’ll do without you over break,” she sighs, swiftly moving on which you’re grateful for.

Daphne, like most people, kept her dorm neat and tidy. Each item clearly had a home, but the room still felt lived in. Authentic. Which is something you’d always appreciated.

You lounge on the girl’s bed, stomach down, chin in the palms of your hands as you watch your friend flit frantically about her room.

“Don’t tell me you lost something,” you say worriedly, recognizing the panicked look on your friend’s face.

You watch as Daphne’s head falls back, brown waves cascading down her back as she groans at the ceiling.

“Just a rancid pair of shoes mother got for my last birthday. I hardly care what happens to them, but I’m sure my mother will ask. She has the nastiest habit of only remembering the bits I wish she wouldn’t.”

Before Daphne can go on, there’s a knocking at the door. Three sharp raps against the wood before it swings open to reveal Blaise leaning lazily against the door frame.

“Tori is looking for you,” he drawls, “says to hurry or you’ll be late.”

His eyes flicker to where you lay sprawled across the bed, the faintest smile ghosting his lips when he sees you.

“You going with them for break?” He asks as Daphne haphazardly begins shoving the last of her belongings into her trunk.

“No, I’m staying here I’m afraid,” you reply, pushing yourself into a sitting position as Blaise’s eyes remain firmly planted on you.

“I tried to get them to come to the manor with us, but you know how they are. Stubborn as it comes,” Daphne huffs, finally pulling her trunk over to the door.

Blaise just hums in response, moving to the side to allow you and Daphne through before falling into step beside you.

"So you're staying here at the castle then?" Blaise asks as the two of you follow Daphne out to the common room where Astoria is waiting for her sister anxiously.

"Mhmm, can't let you and the house elves have all the fun now can I?" you reply with a laugh

Blaise doesn't get a chance to respond before Daphne engulfs you in a bear hug. By the way she was acting you'd think you were going to be apart for years rather than just one week of break. But spending a week at Greengrass manor probably felt like years to be fair.

"Promise you won't have too much fun without me," Daphne says, her face deadly serious.

"I promise," you reply, hugging the girl back.

"And you better take good care of y/n," she says, turning her attention to Blaise.

"I'm sure y/n can take care of themselves just fine Daph. But will do."

Seemingly satisfied with your answers, Daphne gives your hand one last squeeze before she and her sister disappear through the dungeon doors leaving you and Blaise behind.

"So, I hear Enz was accosted by the Malfoys and gets to spend the break at their manor," you say after a brief moment of awkward silence.

Blaise clears his throat looking suddenly rather nervous.

"Yes, and Mattheo and Pansy are spending the break in Italy with Theo," he replies.

You feel your eyebrows raise as you turn to look at the boy.

"I'd have assumed you'd have gone with at least some of them to spend your break."

“I could say the same about you going with the Greengrasses," Blaise replies easily.

"Touche."

There's another pause as the two of you stand there together, the silence growing.

"So I suppose I'll see you around then," Blaise says finally, clearing his throat once more and bobbing his head at you.

"Suppose you shall." You reply as he turns, retreating back to his own dormitory.

The halls of the castle are quiet as ever, just the low hum of portraits chattering as you make your way down the corridor to the library. You figured since you were staying at school, you might as well use the time to get ahead on some of your assignments. It’s not like you had anything better to do anyway.

The library is equally empty, with just a few of the other students who had stayed behind mulling about. On the bright side for you though, it meant that most of the prime real estate was free for the taking. You make yourself comfortable at one of the tables closest to the fireplace, the warm glow casting your shadow along the walls.

You pull out your books, your parchment, and a quill you’d found lying under your desk the other day. You hadn’t remembered having it, you usually didn’t buy the fancy quills, but it looked like it had been left there a while ago so you figured you must have forgotten about it.

You’d hardly been in the library long at all when a second shadow joins your own, but you’re too focused on the essay you’re scribbling away at to notice. Dark eyes watch you with amusement as you quietly mutter to yourself, the feather of your quill brushing against your lips every so often. It’s not until he lets out a soft, but pointed, cough to get your attention that your eyes flicker up from your parchment.

“Working on the dark arts essay?” He asks, his fingers uncharacteristically tapping against the table top as he leans back in his chair.

You nod, setting your quill down, careful to not smudge the ink.

“Figured I might as well knock it out of the way. Plus I finally have some peace and quiet with everyone gone. I know it might be hard to believe, but it’s a lot harder to write an essay with Daphne chatting your ear off.”

Blaise lets out a low chuckle, his fingers still drumming away as he opens his mouth to say something before closing it just as quickly. You can see his eyes darting about distractedly in the glow of the fireplace as you pick up your quill once more, fiddling with the soft vanes of the feather.

"Fancy quill," Blaise says suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes fall onto the writing utensil in your hands. "Where'd you find something like that?"

Your own eyes flicker down to the quill in surprise, the feather suddenly feeling heavy in your hand.

"I- I don't remember. I found it lying under my desk the other day, looked like it had been there for ages. Figured it must've been old," you reply as Blaise continues to stare at the quill in question.

"I have some like it," he mutters softly, eyes still focused on it as if it was going to divulge all of its secrets to him.

After another moment of silence, Blaise seems to snap out of it, sitting up straighter in his chair and the drumming of his fingers coming to a stop.

“Would you like to study in my dorm later?” He blurts out, a weight seeming to disappear from his shoulders as soon as the words leave his mouth.

You feel your heart flutter a bit in excitement as Blaise waits anxiously for your reply. You never thought you’d see cool, calm, and collected Blaise Zabini squirm.

“Sure, but only if I can see your notes from ancient runes,” you answer, a soft smile gracing your lips as Blaise visibly softens.

“That is an added bonus of studying with me,” he replies rather cockily, his confidence clearly returning with full force.

The water of the Black Lake is dark and murky, reflecting the sky through the many windows lining the dungeons. Your light taps on the door of Blaise’s dorm ring out, echoing on the cold stone walls. You knew the Slytherin common room would be deserted with most students away on break, but the emptiness was beginning to feel rather eerie.

The door swings open and Blaise stands towering over you. A bit of the nervousness from before peeks through as you greet him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, gesturing with his head for you to come in.

The room is pristine, not a surprise for someone with a soulmate, every inch seemed to be accounted for. Books sat neatly on the shelf, their spines displaying alphabetization for easy retrieval. Quills sorted by color in jars lined the desk and rolls of parchment were stored an inch apart with surgical precision. Even the bed was perfect with not a wrinkle in sight, pillows perched neatly against the headboard.

You’d been in here before of course, always with a group of friends, but you were still consistently baffled by just how fabricated the room felt. Like it was difficult to believe someone actually lived there.

A cough jerks you back to reality as Blaise sits down on the edge on the bed, marring its perfect image.

“Shall we start with History of Magic, or do you want to skip straight to the good stuff?” He asks with a tilted grin, pulling out a familiar looking notebook and waving it in the air.

Your eyes widen a bit and you feel your mouth water. Blaise’s notes from ancient ruins were something of a legend in your year. You had no idea how he understood anything in that class, but you’d heard even Hermione Granger had asked for Blaise’s help on a few rare occasions.

You practically trip over yourself to take a seat beside the boy, not even noticing the way your legs brushed as the mattress dipped beneath you. You abandon your book bag somewhere on the floor, completely focused on the holy grail of ancient runes. You ignore the laugh that escapes Blaise’s lips as he passes the notebook into your eager hands, the worn leather soft against your fingertips.

“God, I want to take your brain out and study it,” you mutter as you turn through pages and pages of perfect translations, complete with charts and page references to Spellman’s Syllabary.

Blaise just snorts, leaning in to watch as you admire his work.

“You might have to settle for my bad explanations I’m afraid, I prefer to keep my brain in my head thanks,” he replies, subtle affection seeping into his voice as he smiles down at you.

You just hum in reply, letting the boy guide you through the notes, abstract constructs suddenly becoming child’s play under his careful guidance. Before you know it, you’ve completed all of your assignments for ancient runes and you’ve moved onto history of magic, then charms. It’s all a blur the way the two of you work seamlessly together, practically reading each other’s minds, always knowing where the other is falling short and how to fix it.

You don't know how or when the topic shifted, but one moment you were making an offhanded comment about Flitwick's mustache and the next you were rolling around laughing on Blaise's bed as he told you about one of his mother's many partners who he swore bore a striking resemblance to your professor. Mustache, glasses, and all he insisted with probably the biggest grin you'd ever seen gracing his face.

It had spiraled from there, perhaps the lack of sleep adding to your delirium as you lay side by side staring at the ceiling. Your shoulders were pressed together and you could feel the ghost of Blaise's fingers against your own, his chest rumbling with laughter.

"I swear on my life Blaise, I don't think Mattheo knows how to swim. He almost drowned Enzo when he went in after him. I don't know how you never heard about it!" you exclaim between giggles, recounting to him the time Mattheo had stupidly fallen off the dock of the Black Lake.

As your laughter dies down, the two of you are lulled into a comfortable silence. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable like before. You’re just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Mattheo thinks Daphne is his soulmate,” Blaise blurts out, eliciting yet another laugh from you.

As you rush to slap your hands over your mouth, you still can’t help the snort that slips through and Blaise turns his head to look at you with bewilderment.

“Blaise, Daph has known Mattheo is her soulmate for years. Do you realize how often that boy loses his quidditch jersey? Or his textbooks? He lost his whole bloody owl once and it appeared in Daph’s room while we were studying!”

You turn to meet Blaise’s stare and suddenly become very aware of just how close the two of you are. Your noses are mere centimeters away and you can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Daph has just gotten really good at returning the important stuff,” you murmur, acutely aware of the way Blaise’s eyes had trained in on your lips.

You barely have time to close your eyes before you feel soft lips against your own, warm but hesitant as they begin to move slowly.

You know it’s wrong. You know he has a soulmate out there somewhere, but Daphne’s words echo in your head. You don’t deserve to be counted out.

Before you can think your way out of it, you feel yourself begin to kiss back. You can feel Blaise’s lips stretch into a grin as he shifts beside you, turning himself so he’s able to land an arm on either side of you, boxing you in, his lips never leaving yours.

Your mind goes blank, completely lost in the feeling of Blaise’s hand against your waist and the way he’s kissing every doubt and bit of insecurity out of your head. A soft moan escapes your lips and Blaise just melts further into you, his kisses becoming slow and deliberate until you’re both left panting and gazing into one another’s eyes.

It only takes a moment for you to realize what you’d just done, a wave of cold washing over you, your eyes widening with guilt. You push yourself up into a sitting position and Blaise has to scramble off of you, hurt written all across his face.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter as you quickly begin to gather your things. “I know you have a soulmate. I can’t come between that.”

You vaguely hear him call out to you as you toss your bag over you shoulder and flee the scene. It takes everything in you to not look back, but you know if you did you’d cave to those big, brown eyes. So instead you disappear through the door, escaping to the safety of your own dorm before crawling under the covers, still fully clothed, to hide from the world.

Avoiding Blaise for the remainder of the break is surprisingly difficult. You'd think avoiding someone in an almost empty castle would be easy, but no matter where in this wretched castle you went, it didn't take Blaise long to materialize seemingly out of nowhere. You were beginning to think the portraits were ratting you out.

Point is, when Daphne finally returned, you couldn't be happier. Anything to get your mind off the whole idea of soulmates and the people who had them.

"You will never believe what happened to me over break," Daphne squeals, practically glowing as she dumps the contents of her trunk out onto the floor.

Victoriously, she snatches up a dark green lump of fabric, waving it in the air as if it were a trophy. But you just raise an eyebrow.

"Mattheo lost his quidditch jersey again? Daph, I'm not helping you sneak that sweaty old thing back into his dorm again. His owl bit me last time," you sigh from your spot on her bed.

"No. Better!" Daphne chirps, hands fisted around the jersey excitedly as she skips over to join you on the bed. "He owled me over break. He finally figured it out! You'll never have to help me sneak things back into his dorm ever again!"

You want to be happy for your friend. You really do. So you slap the biggest grin you can muster onto your face as she grasps your hands giddily, rambling on about how she’d spent break writing back and forth with Mattheo.

"He and Theo will be back tonight and we're all going down to the Black Lake. You'll come won't you?" she asks.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, ready to do whatever it takes to be a supportive friend.

"And oh my gosh, I forgot to ask. How was your break? How did things go with-"

"It was so eventful," you interrupt, cutting her off before she could even get his name out. "My break was eventful, and I will tell you all about it tonight. But I should probably go grab a jacket. I think it's supposed to be chilly tonight. Be right back?"

You’re off the bed and halfway through the door before Daphne even gets the chance to respond. God, you just needed to play it cool for a few hours. You could do that for your best friend. Not everything was about you, you thought, chastising yourself as you walked briskly back to your dorm.

When you finally arrive, you swing open the door to your wardrobe, haphazardly rifling through the closet in search of your favorite sweater. You weren’t exactly a messy person per se. You just didn’t need to keep your dorm in pristine condition to avoid losing things like everyone else.

However you were currently seeing the small flaw in that logic. The flaw being that while your items perhaps weren’t magiked away, never to be seen again, they were still lost.

With a frustrated groan, you frantically check the small pile of clothes that had gathered on your desk chair, then the trunk at the end of your bed. Your sweater was nowhere to be found. You quickly look under your bed, in your book bag, even the common room in a last ditch effort trying to remember the last time you’d worn the thing. Oh. Oh no.

Blaise knew he’d messed up. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way you’d bolted out of his dorm. Or then proceeded to avoid him as though he had the plague for the entire rest of break. But he just felt drawn to you. He couldn’t explain why. It was like a faint pull in his chest whenever you were near.

It was common knowledge to everyone at this point that you didn’t have a soulmate. And he knew with certainty that he did have a soulmate out there somewhere. So why was it so easy for him to be hypnotized by your eyes? Why was he waking up in a cold sweat at night dreaming about his lips on yours?

After you’d fled from his dorm, Blaise had let himself fall back onto the bed, a string of curses leaving his mouth as he closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. He’d known kissing you was a bad idea, but it just felt so right. He couldn’t stop himself.

When he woke up the next morning, the sweater was there. At the end of his bed as if it had always been there, but Blaise knew better. It was yet another item his soulmate had lost. Lousy timing on their end when he was trying to sulk over y/n.

With a sigh, Blaise balled up the sweater, already brainstorming places to leave the thing in order to re-lose it when he stops. He’d never kept anything from his soulmate before. He examines the soft fabric in his hands, thin and worn in some places it was obviously well loved. Surely they wouldn’t miss one sweater? If only for a few days? Perhaps keeping it for a bit would help keep y/n out of his head.

You can see your hand visibly shake with nerves as you raise your fist to knock on the door. Honestly you didn’t even know why you were here, you didn’t even like that sweater that much anyway you try to convince yourself. Still though you hear yourself knock three times before stepping back, half hoping the door never opens.

Unfortunately for you, the door swings open after just a few moments to reveal Blaise leaning against the door frame, handsome as ever.

He looks surprised to see you, which you suppose made sense considering you'd been avoiding him, but you can't help but notice the way the edges of his mouth slant upwards a bit at the sight of you.

"Uh hey," he says, clearing his throat as he tilts his head at you as if to ask what you were doing here.

"Hi. I lost my favorite sweater. Was wondering if I left it here." you reply awkwardly, just trying to cut to the chase.

It's clear that Blaise was expecting something else entirely and you feel your heart clench as a flicker of hurt flashes across his face before he turns quickly to survey his room.

"Uh no, I don't think so. I keep it pretty tidy in here so I'd probably have noticed," he responds, his eyes not quite able to meet yours again.

You're about to say thanks anyway and hightail it out of there when a flash of color catches your eye. There, folded neatly on the nightstand was your sweater. Why on Earth would Blaise lie about not having your sweater, you wonder as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Without thinking, you push past the now also very confused boy and make a beeline for the nightstand. Picking up the familiar, but rather worn out sweater, you confirm it's yours before turning back to Blaise.

"This is my sweater," you tell him, lifting the evidence for him to see.

Blaise looks at you like you'd grown an extra head.

"No, that's my soulmate's sweater. It showed up on my bed one morning a few days ago. It's the only thing of theirs I've ever kept," Blaise replies, slowly as if it'll help make sense of the situation.

You just blink at the boy in front of you, wondering why he would claim your sweater belonged to his soulmate when you really begin to replay his words in your head. And the puzzle pieces finally begin to piece themselves together.

"Blaise. What exactly do you mean, 'it's the only thing if theirs you've ever kept'?" you ask, voice steady and eerily calm.

Blaise just looks at you lost, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't know, I guess every time I've gotten an item from my soulmate, I've just sent it back right away. So they don't miss it."

"Send it back?" you repeat, your face dead pan as you finally realize what's been going on.

All these years thinking you didn't have a soulmate because this absolute tosser was too kind and considerate.

"Yes. Every time I get an item, I just lose it again so it goes back to them. So they don’t notice it was ever missing."

You raise an eyebrow, nodding along, waiting to see if the dots will connect for Blaise as well.

“So it’s like it was never miss-“ Blaise’s words trail off as his eyes widen slightly, realization sinking in.

It all made sense now. You knew you'd never seen that blasted quill before! And no wonder Blaise recognized it so quickly.

It really hits you then. You had Blaise's quill. Blaise had your sweater. You were soulmates.

You feel your legs grow shakey as you sit down on the bed, hands still clutching your sweater so hard your knuckles were turning white. Wordlessly, Blaise moves across the room, sitting beside you as you both stare straight ahead in silence.

“So you do have a soulmate,” Blaise exhales, finally saying what you’d been too afraid to.

“You’re my soulmate.”

“I’m your soulmate,” he repeats, though you can hear a slight tinge of satisfaction in his words. “And you’ve been avoiding me all week for no reason.”

You scoff a bit, crossing your arms in defense.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was strategically being in places you weren’t,” you reply indignantly.

“Still for no reason,” Blaise teases, his shoulder bumping against yours playfully as you feel your cheeks begin to heat up.

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you reply, shoving the boy back with a laugh. “Can’t believe you gaslit me into thinking I didn’t have a soulmate.”

“Pft. I was trying to be nice.”

“Mmm, you’re lucky I like you, ya know,” you say, smiling up at the boy.

You’d have thought finding your soulmate would be a lot more jarring. You’d always imagined it to be some big dramatic event when two soulmates finally came together. But you found that you liked this better.

“That mean you’re going to let me finish what I started?” Blaise asks cheekily, turning to face you.

“I don’t know. I told Daphne I’d meet her down by the Black Lake,” you reply, feigning innocence as you feel yourself being pushed further back onto the bed.

“Daphne is going to see her soulmate. I don’t think she’ll be terribly torn up if you don’t show.”

His lips are on yours once more before you have the chance to respond, and honestly, you’re okay with that as his hands slowly guide your head onto one of his satin pillows.

Daphne would have to wait, you decided your lips moving hungrily against Blaise’s.

You were making up for lost time.

Ignore the rushed ending, istg the last 200 words are always the hardest to write.

[exquisink]

f!sorcerer reader, dubcon, stalking, possessiveness, harassment (there will be a non sorcerer reader version)

bully!satosugu aren’t your average bullies. they aren’t bogged down each time you ignore their attempts at getting under your skin. they know you’re smart and know better… but so are they and they do too. and maybe they’re less interested in breaking you down more than simply getting to know you :)

(but they need to understand you aren’t your average target. you can and will stand up for yourself. you don’t show much interest in general and that just baffles them.)

bully!satosugu…who aren’t the kind to dominate the small world of jujutsu tech one because there’s no reason for that or anything to gain from it either but they are instead viewed as just two boys sharing the same brain cell. shoko and utahime tell you not to pay them any mind; they’re just two dumbasses with an overinflated sense of importance being speshul grades. nanami even reiterates the fact. plus they annoy everyone, so it’s not like you’re a special case here.

bully!satosugu who get all up in your space and in your business, ignoring your protests when they snatch your books and notes out of your hands and lap and geto’s scooping you into his strong hold instead.

“why’s a grade 3 sorcerer wasting her time? trust me, we have better things in mind for a pretty thing like you,” geto purrs.

“and besides, what use is a grade 3 in the field when the two strongest can just take care of everything? hmmmm?” gojo taunts while fiddling with a stray strand of your hair.

instead of seeming intimidated, you’re just annoyed that your work has been disrupted. you don’t give them an outward reaction, just a deadpan, “if you don’t let me go i’ll use my curse technique to castrate the two of you.”

that seems to work for now!

bully!satosugu who…for some reason hover over you like they’re your bodyguards yet you treat them as if they’re not there the entire time. even if gojo can usually annoy someone to the point of tears, you don’t react, instead you’re able to completely tune him AND geto out.

how… Unnerving! Perplexing?

bully!satosugu who HATE to see you divert your attention to anyone else be it nanami or haibara or even shoko and utahime. something sets them off when you giggle a little too hard at some off hand deadpan remark nanami makes, you keep making eyes at him like you like him and not them. what’s up with that? and then they see nanami resting his hand on your thigh……….

and shooting a glare their way, as if to ward them off of you or else? wha?

bully!satosugu who aren’t keen on the idea of you trying to have a life outside of them (you never wanted a life with them from the start, but you digress) so they corner you in one of the empty lecture halls. you tell them you don’t know what they mean. in fact you insist, because you really don’t understand (or really care either). you have no regard for them, but they seem to hold so much interest in you and they don’t like that you don’t appreciate their attention so you had to get it instead from fucking NANAMI.

setting your book on your lap, you meet their accusatory gazes with disinterest.

“i don’t have to entertain any of this,” you remark, “i’m not interested in engaging in something like this when we’re in an environment where we’re forced to coexist. i will acknowledge you as my peers but nothing more.”

thinking you have the last word, you get up and brush past them, but geto grabs your wrist and twists you around. you grunt.

“maybe we have to show her why she should want us by her side, satoru,” he suggests in a low, dangerous tone.

“will she actually learn this time, though?”

“oh, it doesn’t matter. we can always repeat the lesson until she understands,” geto yanks you toward him until your back hits his front, your breath hitching as you feel a growing erection through his baggy uniform.

“you both might find better payoff deepthroating each other,” you scoff.

geto’s nostrils flare at that.

“such a foul mouth,” he snarls, "better watch that tone with us."

“yeah,” satoru pitches in, inching closer with a little smirk. “maybe we ought to plug it up.”

TBC???

[froginmygarden]

It started with an ad: an unlikely opponent

It had been late. Danny was exhausted, could bareley look straight, giving Dani a bath - getting splashed by soapy water. It happened almost too quickly, one second she was in front of him, the next - held above his head, water dripping down on him. There was a shattered tile in the tub.

"mmmmmmmu", Dani was kicking around in the air, almost nailing Danny in the forhead.

"Yeah, that was a close one, honey," he'd kissed her cheek. Was it to calm her or himself?

"Well, off to bed for you!", that had raised another round of protest, it wasn't even that late!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a puddle in his kitchen.

Scratch that.

There was a pond in his kitchen!

Indeed. The sink was overflowing with used water, spilling over it's brim straight onto the floor, flooding it. The lake had some small islands of soap and hardened fat floating around - the smell was terrible, Danny was going to barf (preferably not in the sink). He had to snatch Dani off the floor, least she grabs one of the floating bits and, just for the fun of it, stuffs it in her mouth.

Yeah. He can't quick-fix that one. Time to call an actual plumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's going to be fine for now. Some genious seperated the drain pipe to go into the garden, probably for wattering," they were able to drain the kitchen (thank god) without much spillage to other rooms - since, as it turned out, the room is tilted so that the lowest point is towords the buildings outer wall. It still needed to be ventilated though.

"The only reason this happened is because of the rainstorm. The garden probably got flooded, whitch ended with the water comming up the pipes." Thankfully someone was able to come on short notice, and was soft harted enough to give the poor sod a discount - on acount of having a small child living with him.

"It's unlikeley to cause you much truble, well- at least not untill next rainy season. But you might wanna take care of it before then. God knows what else might be wrong with the pipes."

Danny thanked him prefusely, offering some tea and sandwitches, to atleast somewhat repay the man - he insists!

And that's how the Fentons got only 90 dollars poorer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another late night. It's so dark, so quiet, strange for such a liveley city.

There's a bright light shining up ahead.

"Hey, man...", Mark must've changed the bulbe.

"Hi..."

"Did you think about it?", wasn't that strange as well, how this stall allways seemed to be open just past it's time, how this young man seemed to care just a bit too much about someone he didn't know (how he cared about Danny more then people he had needed to trust with his life, a complete stranger)?

"I don't know...", what else were he supposed to say - Actually my kid and I are half human half magical extraterestrials and I don't want to expose my doughter to anyone that might suspect her peculiar development!! - "It just doesn't seem worth it..."

The kid was frowning at him something terrible, "you would't know untill you try. That's. The. Whole. Point.", really he was way too nice today - something good must have happened, "besides- it's only 85 cents. It wouldn't be a loss!"

"..."

"Just do it. If not for yourself then for Dani... Think how this could help Dani..."

"okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

---"and if the room's still available I'd like to have a look- thank you! *clik*"

"Well will you look at that... Let's not get too excited", he sipped his tea, "one thing at a time..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is bullshit! She didn't want to sit here! The best place was obviousley by the tall table!

Dani had been placed, per her wishes, on her mat in the livingroom, but now had deduced that shed much rather have her dadis company.

"aaaaaaahhhh..."

She'd started off small, but that didn't seem to get more then a quick checkup. "But that's fine," she thought to herself, "it's just one guest, dadi will get me soon."

Then she waited and waited.... and waited.... damn it!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

"Ohmygod, hunny!" In a moment's notice Danny was rushing in, scooping and checking her for any harm, while Dani simply cooed at him.

"So this must be the little missus?" The bad guest - yes he was bad, Dani decided, good guests don't stay for too long - asked her, but he wasn't worth responding to, she wanted dadi to take her to the tall table (maybe there would be some food on it again?). She simpley turned away, pressing her cheek to her fathers chest, you know like a dignified lady.

"She's a little shy, doesn't like new people." No she wasn't, she was very vividly expressing her distaste for the man! Dorri would be proud no doupt.

"She'll get used to you in no time, I'm sure! That is if you'll stay?" ..what

"Well it seems nice, so... if you'll have me." ...excuse me?

The bad guest had the audacity to wave at her. Stay? Stay where? Here? NO! She was wrong! This man wasn't a bad guest but a VERY bad guest! How dare hE??

"Hi, I'm Hal. I'll be staying with you and your dad for a while."

Dani shook his extended finger. Hal was it? Well, bad-guest Hal, I'm going to make you regret this - and so she plotted away, there were tons of ways to get back at bad guests, because bad guests deserve to be punished. Teribley.

"See, she likes you already!"

[k-aemi]

Chubby!Reader getting bullied at school for their looks and came crying home to stepbro!Kaiser and he had to comfort her by making reader sit on his face and eat her out to prove she's not heavy at all and is Soo pretty when she cries from overstimulation.

kaiser michael ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ heavy love.

smut, face sitting, praises, overstim, 69, stepcest.

its implied chubby, but it can be for any body type so u girlies dont feel excluded ♡(>ᴗ•)

it was never nice living with your father. having to constantly be in fear and on guard. you hated it, you wished you were never born in this life. but kaiser makes it bearable. just a tad bit, hell comfort you by ruffling your head and reassuring you.

you guys were always on a shortage of food. kaiser would either have to steal or take remains of the left overs. you hated it! you didnt like when he stole from others, but you also didnt like eating peoples left overs, its so gross that you basically rather starve yourself.

kaiser doesnt have any other choice. he does this for yours and his survival. at least he tries, he always feels so bad when he cant give you life you wanted. a nice family, a big house, and cute clothing. the kid you are, you cant see the effort he puts in for you </3

to make yourself a bit better, hed enrolled you in school so you had some sort of interaction and so you can at least be able to read and write. it was the best decision he made! you loved interacting with other people, it made you run away from the horror being at home.

suddenly in the middle of a lecture, youre engrossed in your work until a bang is heard at the front. its...kaiser? what was he doing here? he scans the room before spotting you. he walks up to your desk and you stood up.

"misha, what you doing here?" he gives no response but just a little grunt. snatching your wrist and leading you out. youre confused, had something happen? youre about to open your mouth to speak again but he shushes you.

turns out he was recruited into the bastard munchen football team. youre so happy for him, but what you didnt expect was the money he was about to make from this.

using this, kaiser was able to move out from father, and actually afford the necessities you guys needed. it was wonderful, he was able to buy you food and you might of went crazy with it.

he spoiled you with food you always wanted to eat back as a kid. you loved it, you loved the food, and you loved your big brother. hed buy you sweets all the time! how can you refuse? its everything youve always wanted to eat!

its not until youve realized maybe you have eaten a lot, but it wont do you any harm right? wrong. entering in college, you thought itd be really easy going since you heard people are really nice though! the lectures were a bit difficult but youll get used to it soon!

you had your break and youre outside in the court eating just a little something kaiser bought for you! such a sweet brother he is. but that joy of yours is ruined when you hear a remark about you.

"do you see how much shes eating? shes probably gonna have a heart attack..!" you can hear a couple girls snicker behind you. you know, maybe they were talking about someone else! you shrugged it off and continued to eat.

"cant even eat properly too, look at how big of a bite she took. shes gonna weight ten times more than me.." you can hear giggling and now its confirmed, they were in fact talking about you. youve never felt such a way before you dont even know how to react, you dont even realize it but now youre crying.

after a long day youve arrived back to your place. kaiser was off practice today so he was just in the living room, indulging himself in a book to past the time. his attention shifts to you when you open the door. noticing your saddened face.

you enter in, taking your shoes off before sitting down next to kaiser. you frown, remembering the event during your break.

"misha, do i look weird..?" you shift your gaze to his eyes. your frown is noticeable and he takes note of it. he cups your cheeks and caresses it. "no. of course not. whats with this?" he has a serious face to him. recalling what had happened you just cant help but tear up, sniffling.

"t-there was these girls...they said i eat too much! and...i-i heard it all they said i was gonna be heavy..." you cry and his face softens a bit. he wipes your tears wit his thumb, ruffling with your hair.

"youre perfect. not a single thing wrong about you." he kissed your tear eyes away. you feel a bit comforted, but the words of those girls still lingered in your head, and it seemed his works didnt full sink in. he knows youre a pain in the ass when it came to this, sometimes when hed yell at you, you become a crying mess.

"shh shh...youre not heavy. can prove it to you, yeah?" he rubbed his forehead against yours and you open your eyes to meet his. "h-huh? prove..?" the last thing you saw was his smirk.

you dont even know what happened, kaiser just told you to strip your clothes away and hover over him. its embarrassing really, but he said itd be perfect for you to see yourself in his eyes. you dont know how hed do that but whatever big brother said!

"m-misha...i dont wanna sit on you...'m g'na hurt you!" you whined out, but hes too much in a trance as your bare pussy is in his face. the way it pulses when his breath touched your sensitive bud had him spiraling emotions he cant describe right now.

youre propped up above him and he feels up your thighs, squishing the soft flesh. "s'okay prinzessin. youre not g'na hurt me." he licks his lips and his breathing becomes ragged as he can feel his cock stiffen under his pants. its like it had a mind of its own, it wants to be out of its restraints.

you can only let out a sigh, giving in, you settle yourself down, just lightly. youre crazy to think youd put all your weight on him! of course kaiser takes notice of this, clicking his tongue in annoyance before pulling your whole weight down on him. his grip on you is tight, and you cant even lift yourself up.

kaisers eyes roll back, your scent is so intoxicating and the way your clit rested on his nose was everything. shit this may be his favorite meal of all time, his baby sisters pussy <3

you can feel the wet muscle exploring your pussy and you let out a pathetic moan. god what was this feeling...? it feels so good but weird at the same time. you cant help squeeze your thighs into him more. you think youre hurting kaiser but he actually fucking loves it.

he loves how your thigh closes in on his head, its like suffocating him and he loves the feeling. he continues to lap at your pussy, prodding his tongue at your hole while youre just a whining mess.

"m-misha wait too much-" you grip onto his hair, but he can only ignore your pleas and continue. you practically hear him slobbering all over your pussy and its makes you flustered. you cant anymore, it was too much! tears threatened to spill from your eyes from the immense pleasure.

kaiser didnt care, he needed this. bad. your pussys so addictive he cant stop, its like a drug to him, a cure to his mental state. holy shit his dick needed to be out of his pants right now. he can only admire the sight of your teary eyed self, it just means hes making you feel so fuckin' good right now.

he latches himself off your pussy and you huffed. catching up with your breath as kaiser just watches your pussy pulses, fuck thats so hot-

"turn around." youre too caught up with catching up with your breath you dont question it. youre met with his bulge that sticks out and its huge. its moving on its own!

youre not so sure of it, but it pretty much says "i want to be out". you swallow your built up saliva, unzipping the confinements. this was it? it was so big and his tip was leaking pre-cum. kaiser cant help but thrust his hip onto your face, he needs to feel you so bad already. just hurry up and take him in your mouth.

"put your mouth on it. hurry." he demands. this big thing in your mouth? that was literally impossible...but anything for big brother, hes trying so hard to comfort you, this is the least you can do right?

just lightly putting the tip in was already difficult enough. your gag reflexes were bad, so he hopes its okay! kaiser was already happy youre there to suck his cock. feeing so relinquished as he slurps up your cunt again.

you moan into his cock and the vibrations felt sooo good. he wants to keep making you moan until you come on his face.

well, your high was coming. from the way he just kept eating you like youre his last meal ever, its no wonder you feel the knot in your tummy.

“m-micha-‘m g’na cwumm…” you whined out and he thinks its so cute how you cant properly speak because of his big cock. his cock is doing that to you, no one elses.

hes at his limit too. wouldnt it be so cute that you guys come together? he thinks it is.

thats when you reach your high and all kaiser does is drink the sweet juice that spill. it spills onto his face and splattered everywhere. you moan into his cock pathetically and that was his end game, cumming inside your warm mouth, god he wishes he can feel like that once more.

you fall limp on him and heavy breaths are heard within the room. he gives a light slap to your ass and you yelp, making you pout at him. he can only chuckle before grabbing the flesh. “dont say stupid shit anymore.” he refers back to your past concerns.

is it rushed? i hope not (ヽ´ω`) i will rest now, and write two for you guys tomorrow or three on the weekend, more kaiser fics for those in my anons and i will keep up with the requests do not worry!!! you guys really like a lot of sibling fics, this is now just a sibling page for bllk!!! i swear i will write other things 〒▽〒

blue divider: kodaswrld

[latenightreadingpdf]

Hold Me - James Potter

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: After a hard-fought Quidditch match against Slytherin, Gryffindor’s loss hits James Potter harder than anyone expected. With the defeat weighing heavily on him, Y/N stays behind to offer comfort while his friends try to lift his spirits.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The stands were packed with students, their scarves and banners waving frantically as Gryffindor and Slytherin faced off in what was bound to be one of the most intense matches of the season. Y/N sat in the Gryffindor section of the stands, nestled next to Remus Lupin. He had a book in his lap, though he wasn’t reading it, his amber eyes fixed on the pitch below.

"Come on, James," Y/N muttered, her gaze darting between James Potter and Regulus Black. The two Seekers were neck and neck, their brooms weaving in and out of the players below as they chased after the elusive Golden Snitch.

Remus nodded silently, his lips pursed. "They’re so close." His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edges of his book, though he had abandoned any pretence of reading. He hadn’t turned a page in the past half hour.

Y/N could feel the tension in the air, thick like a storm cloud. Every single student in the stands was on edge, watching intently as the Seekers danced through the air. Gryffindor’s hopes rested on James catching the Snitch, but Regulus wasn’t going to let it go easily. Y/N's heart raced as she watched the two of them twist and turn in midair, the tiny golden ball barely a blur in the distance.

James and Regulus were neck and neck, brooms darting dangerously close as they sped through the maze of players. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as they narrowly avoided colliding with a pair of Beaters who were too absorbed in their own skirmish to notice the Seekers darting past.

“They’re going to crash if they’re not careful,” Y/N whispered, her hands clasping tightly together as anxiety bubbled in her chest. She could see the raw determination on James’s face, his hair windswept and wild as he leaned forward on his broom, pushing it to its limits. His focus was entirely on the Snitch, completely oblivious to anything else on the pitch.

Suddenly, something strange happened. James’s broom jerked unnaturally, wobbling violently as if an invisible hand had grabbed it. It veered off course, and for a split second, Y/N thought he might be able to regain control, but the broom jerked again, this time harder. It twisted sharply to the left, causing James to lose his balance. His fingers gripped the handle tightly, knuckles white, as he struggled to steady it.

The crowd gasped, and Y/N instinctively grabbed Remus’s arm, her nails digging into his sweater. James fought to steady his broom, his face set in determination, but it was no use.

“Merlin’s beard,” Remus muttered under his breath. “That’s not normal. Someone’s messing with his broom.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had seen something like this before—the time during their second year when Professor McGonagall had to stop a match because someone had tampered with one of the school brooms. But this time, it was worse. It wasn’t just a Slytherin ploy to distract James; it was sabotage.

Regulus, on the other hand, seized the opportunity. With a final burst of speed, the Slytherin Seeker shot forward and snatched the Snitch from the air. The whistle blew, and the Slytherin section erupted in wild cheers. Their green and silver banners waved triumphantly as they celebrated their victory.

“Slytherin wins!” the announcer’s voice boomed, but all Y/N could hear were the groans and disappointed mutterings of the Gryffindors around her.

Remus exhaled slowly. “That was… unexpected,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he watched James struggle to bring his broom back down to the ground. Y/N's chest tightened with frustration. She knew something had happened to James’s broom—probably Slytherin sabotage—but there was no proof.

As the Gryffindor team trudged off the pitch, heads hung low, the cheers from the Slytherin stands rang in her ears. The energy in the Gryffindor stands had drained, leaving behind a dull silence, broken only by scattered conversations about what had just happened.

“Bloody cheats,” Mary Macdonald muttered, standing next to Lily Evans, her hands clenched into fists. “There’s no way that was an accident. They did something to his broom. You saw how it was jerking around.”

Lily nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with concern as she watched James descend toward the ground. “I don’t know how, but they definitely did something. James should have caught that Snitch.”

“Yeah,” Dorcas said, wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck as the evening air grew colder. “You could see it from up here. There’s no way his broom would just do that on its own.”

The rest of the Gryffindors in the stands had already started to file out, but Y/N and her friends lingered. Marlene McKinnon, the Gryffindor Chaser, was the last to leave the field. Her shoulders were slumped, her expression dejected as she trudged toward them, her broom dragging behind her.

“Marlene!” Lily called out, hurrying forward to meet her. The group closed in around Marlene, pulling her into a big, warm hug.

“You played great,” Mary said softly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah,” Dorcas added. “That broom business was total rubbish.”

Marlene gave them a weak smile, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “Thanks, but it still sucks.”

“It’s not your fault,” Y/N said, stepping closer and resting a hand on Marlene’s shoulder. “It was Slytherin cheating. You did the best you could. James knows it too.”

Marlene gave a small nod, but the disappointment in her eyes was hard to shake. She had given everything during that match, and losing like this felt like a punch to the gut.

“Let’s head back to the dorms,” Lily suggested, glancing around at the emptying stands. “We can have a girls’ night, yeah? Chocolate, pyjamas, the works.”

Y/N gave Marlene’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Go on. I’ll wait here for James and Sirius.”

Marlene nodded, a bit of the sadness lifting from her face as the group began to make their way back toward the castle. Y/N watched them go, then turned back to the pitch, waiting patiently as the last few stragglers left the stands.

After a few minutes, the locker room door creaked open. Sirius Black emerged, his usual cocky grin nowhere to be seen. His shoulders were tense, and his dark hair was damp from the post-match shower. The moment Y/N saw him, she stood up and hurried over.

“Sirius,” she called softly.

He looked up, his grey eyes dull with frustration, but before he could say anything, Y/N pulled him into a tight hug. “You were brilliant out there,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “It wasn’t your fault, and you know it.”

Sirius sighed, wrapping his arms around her in return, though his grip wasn’t as firm as usual. “Thanks, Y/N,” he muttered, but his voice was distracted. He pulled back slightly, glancing over at Remus, who was watching quietly from a few feet away.

Remus stood up and offered Sirius a small smile. Sirius walked over to him, and without a word, Remus pulled him into another hug. Unlike Y/N’s brief embrace, Sirius stayed in Remus’s arms longer, resting his head on his shoulder for a moment longer than necessary.

Y/N’s heart warmed at the sight, the quiet beginning of something unspoken passing between the two boys. She could feel it, even if they didn’t realise it yet.

Once they pulled away, Sirius rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “James… isn’t doing great. He’s pissed—mostly at himself—and he doesn’t want to see anyone. He’ll probably take a while to come out.”

Y/N frowned, worry creeping into her chest. “That bad?”

Sirius nodded. “He blames himself for losing. Thinks he should’ve been able to fight whatever Slytherin did to his broom.”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Remus. “He’ll come out when he’s ready,” she said. 

Sirius gave a faint nod, looking relieved that someone would be there for his best friend. “We should head back. He’ll be fine eventually.”

As they made their way back to the castle, Y/N walked beside Sirius, linking her arm through his, offering comfort. The three of them didn’t say much, but their presence was enough to calm the disappointment that hung in the air.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Later that night, Y/N walked into the Gryffindor common room, the warmth of the fireplace casting a soft glow over the space. Sirius and Remus were sitting on one of the couches, close together, wrapped in cozy jumpers. Their heads were bent in quiet conversation, the firelight flickering over their faces.

“Is James back yet?” Y/N asked, approaching them.

Remus nodded. “Yeah, he’s upstairs. Hasn’t come down since.”

Y/N sighed and leaned down to give each of them a quick hug, planting a kiss on their cheeks. “I’m going to check on him.”

Sirius nodded, his eyes following her as she made her way to the boys’ dormitory stairs. “Good luck,” he called after her.

Climbing the stairs, Y/N reached James’s door and knocked gently. There was a pause before she heard his muffled voice from the other side.

“Go away, Sirius.”

“It’s me, James.”

Silence followed, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if he was going to answer. But then she heard the soft click of the door unlocking, and it creaked open.

James stood there, his glasses slightly askew and his eyes red-rimmed from crying. Tear tracks marked his cheeks, his face crumpling the moment he saw her.

“Oh, Jamie,” Y/N whispered, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. She pulled him into her arms, and James buried his face in her neck, his breath shaky as he tried to hold back more tears.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Y/N said softly, running her hands up and down his back, offering comfort. She guided him over to the bed, sitting down and keeping him close. James wrapped his arms around her, holding on as if she were the only thing grounding him.

“Is there anything I can do?” Y/N asked, her voice gentle as she played with his messy hair.

James shook his head against her chest. “Just… just hold me, please.”

“Come here.” Y/N said as she leaned back, pulling him with her until they were lying on the bed. His head rested on her chest, his body curled up beside her as his arms stayed wrapped around her waist.

Y/N smiled softly, her hands threading through his dark hair, massaging his scalp in slow, soothing strokes. She could feel the tension in his body begin to ease as he relaxed into her touch.

After a while, James’s breathing evened out, his grip on her loosening slightly as sleep began to pull him under. Just before he drifted off, he mumbled in a low, sleepy voice, “Godric, I’m so lucky to have you.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with warmth, and she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I’m lucky to have you too, Jamie.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[scary-grace]

Somewhere in the Crowd- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura tells himself he's content with singing backup in the band he founded, and most of the time he is. But when he takes a song request from you during the biggest concert the League of Villains has ever played, he realizes that there might be a few advantages to claiming the spotlight. 4.1k words, no quirks, band au. the League sounds like Lord Huron because I want them to and all songs referenced are from LH's discography.

this fic is for the lovely @scarlettcryptid's birthday! she offered me free rein to write a Shigaraki x reader fic, and true to form I have produced a band AU. happy birthday Scarlett! sorry it's a little late.

Even midway into his second tour with the band he started, Tomura still hasn’t fallen for the supposed romance of being onstage. It’s hot under the lights. The entire venue smells like sweat. And if it wasn’t for the earpiece jammed in one ear and the earplug jammed in the other, he wouldn’t even be able to hear what the rest of the band is doing. Not Twice on drums, not Toga on violin or musical saw or whatever weird instrument she dug up, not Dabi on piano or Spinner on guitar, and definitely not either Dabi or Spinner’s singing. Without the goddamn earpieces, the League of Villains would fall apart.

And at the same time, Tomura doesn’t hate it quite as much as he used to. Since the League got signed with Deika Records, they’ve been playing sold-out shows in increasingly larger venues. Tonight’s venue has three thousand people. Three thousand people paid money to get in, and some number of them paid more money to meet-and-greet with the band afterwards, and right now, all of them are focused on the stage.

They’re mainly focused on Spinner and Dabi, who are singing, or on Twice, who’s always doing something weird and destined to go viral, or on Toga, who’s better at playing to the crowd than anybody else in the band. Tomura, off to one side of the stage with his bass and a mic in front of him, might as well be an afterthought. And that’s fine with him. He’s the one who formed the band. He’s the one who writes the songs. His music is in the spotlight. That’s good enough.

They’ve just wrapped up a crowd favorite, one of the songs from the first album, and they’re officially in the back half of the set. Tomura glances down at the set list, sees the blank spot, and feels a wave of apathy sweep over him. It gets even worse when Spinner, his handpicked lead singer who’s all about keeping things fair, steps up to the mic and announces it to the crowd. “We’ve got space for one more request, so send it on over to Shigaraki! It’s his turn to pick.”

When it’s Dabi or Spinner picking the request, people rush the stage, and people rush it this time, too – so they can try to get the poster they made or the picture they want signed right up and personal with Spinner and Dabi. Tomura sidles awkwardly over to the edge of the stage, wondering if anyone will try to request something from him. Tonight there are two dozen or so, all with big posters asking for the band’s most famous songs. Someone wants a deep cut, one that Dabi sings solo, and Tomura’s feeling like an asshole, so he skips that one on purpose. And then he spots something else.

It’s not a poster or a photo for signing. It’s a piece of folded-up notebook paper, held up by someone who doesn’t look like the type to be right up front at a League of Villains concert. It’s hard to get a good look at your face with all the posters in the way, and somebody keeps bumping into you, almost knocking you over. You keep your arm up, your piece of notebook paper flapping, and Tomura reaches out to the absolute edge of his balance and snatches it from your hand.

“We have a winner,” Toga calls out, and a bunch of people cheer – because it’s Toga talking, not because Tomura grabbed a request. “What’s it gonna be, Tomura-kun?”

Tomura unfolds the piece of paper. Three words. Play your favorite.

He knew he grabbed the right one. “Lost in Time and Space,” he announces, to the tune of a collective “huh” from the audience. “Spinner. Move over.”

Spinner’s grinning as he steps away from the center mic. “We haven’t done this one in forever,” he says, too quietly for the crowd to here. He swaps his guitar for Tomura’s bass. “Whoever did the request must be a fan of yours.”

Tomura doesn’t think you are, really. He’s not even sure you’re a fan of the band. If you were, you’d have requested a specific song, not just requested that Tomura play his favorite song. Tomura feels a surge of nerves as he gets set at the center mic, then pushes them aside. Just because he hasn’t sung lead in a while doesn’t mean he’s forgotten how. Everyone might rather look at Spinner or Dabi, but for the next three and a half minutes, they’re going to have to put up with looking at him. Tomura cues the rest of the band, adjusts his grip on Spinner’s guitar, and plays.

It’s an old song, off the League’s first LP. That LP became their first album, with the weird character songs and story arcs the League is famous for, but neither Spinner nor Dabi wanted this song. Tomura doesn’t blame them. He was pretty depressed when he wrote it, and it’s a little too mopey for the LP and for what the League usually plays. But it’s his damn song. He hasn’t played it on tour at all. He’s going to enjoy it.

He does enjoy it. Not enough to make him miss singing lead or being the star of the show, but he enjoys getting to play a song that’s his, one he didn’t write to play to anybody else’s strengths. And at the end of the song, once he’s stepped away from the center mic and gone back where he belongs, he picks up the notebook paper off the stage and tucks it into his pocket. Whoever you are, he hopes you got what you were looking for out of the show. As he slogs through the rest of the set, Tomura wishes he’d gotten a good look at your face.

After three encores – a record – Tomura and the rest of the band get a break, hanging out in the green room before the meet-and-greet. Toga beelines for the fridge, but instead of opening it, she hauls out a can of air freshener from the floor next to it and starts spraying it everywhere. Twice gets a blast in the face and sneezes through his mask. “Hey, what the hell? That’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled and it sucks!”

“It smells like boy sweat in here,” Toga says. “I love you guys, but you stink. The girls at the meet and greet won’t like that.”

“Some of them are into it,” Dabi says, and smirks. Spinner grabs the air freshener from Toga and sprays both armpits. “Quit simping so hard for your fans, lead singer. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

“They paid to come talk to us. We shouldn’t tear-gas them with our body odor.”

“So you’re going to tear-gas them with air freshener instead?”

“They’re his fans. He can do what he wants.” Tomura shakes his head when Spinner offers him the can. Deodorant exists, and it’s not like anybody’s going to want to talk to Tomura anyway. “That goes for everybody. Do what you want. But if you break Magne’s rules, you’re on your own.”

Magne’s been the tour manager since halfway through their first tour, and she’s strict as hell. In fairness to Magne, they earned it. Halfway through their first tour, one meet-and-greet turned into one party and turned into five separate scandals, one for each of them. Spinner’s was the smallest and Twice’s was pretty funny, but Dabi and Toga both spent a night in jail over theirs, and although it upped their cred with the fanbase, it also tanked a possible record deal. Kurogiri showed up to bail them out, and he brought Magne with him.

The door to the green room opens, and Magne steps in, like Tomura somehow summoned her by mentioning her name. “They’re all lined up,” she says. “I’m sneaking you in the back way. Does everybody remember the rules?”

Tomura mumbles agreement along with everybody else. Magne’s smile takes on a dangerous glint. “There are only three important ones,” she says. “First: The bus leaves when it leaves, regardless of who’s on it. I don’t care how hungover you are. Get your ass on the bus.”

When Tomura’s hungover, he usually sleeps on the bus, just to make sure it doesn’t leave without him. “Second,” Magne continues, “remember that whatever you do with a groupie is going to end up all over the internet. And don’t bring any groupies on the bus unless the rest of the band okays it.”

That’s happened exactly never. Tomura uses the bus trips for writing or for naps, and too much groupie bullshit makes it hard to do either. “And finally,” Magne says, “if I find out that any of you were hooking up with a groupie in a goddamn koi pond again, I’m taking you to the vet and having you neutered before you sober up.”

“That was one time!” Twice protests.

“Yeah, and we’re still getting therapy bills from the fish,” Tomura says. Toga cackles. “Can we get this over with?”

“Yep! Right this way.” Magne leads them out the door and down a hallway, then ushers them through the door into the venue’s VIP lounge. Tomura’s last in line, and she grabs his arm before he can go in. “I got a call from the big boss at Deika. He says to try not to look like you’re in pain the entire time.”

“Tell him to stop looking at me, then.” Tomura shrugs her off, steps through the door, and skulks over to the far corner of the room. “Nobody else is.”

Back before he made it in any capacity, Tomura used to daydream about meet-and-greets, getting all wound up over the idea that people would pay to talk to him about his music. A few years into his career, the reality’s set in: Meet-and-greets are for photos and autographs and fans throwing themselves at the artists, and nobody throws themselves at Tomura. Kurogiri thinks it’s his stage presence, or the fact that he doesn’t interact with fans on social media, or that he doesn’t look very approachable. Tomura’s pretty sure it’s about how he looks, period. With a face like his, approachable doesn’t matter.

The fans start filtering in, beelining for the others, and Tomura digs his notebook out of his pocket. He might as well write a bit.

Compress, who handles production and merchandising on the tour, swings by at one point to give Tomura the figures. They’re doing well, which is a surprise. “Even the new stuff?”

“The K-pop strategy is working,” Compress says. He lifts his mask to take a sip of water, then lowers it down again. “Everyone’s trying to collect them all – the photo cards, the different editions of the albums, the replica costume pieces. The fans on Twitter are competing to see who can get an autograph on every piece of merchandise first.”

The fans on Twitter are really stupid. “If it works, it works.”

“It’s working very well,” Compress says. He pauses. “Somebody did come by looking for something I didn’t have. They wanted a copy of Vide Noir. Not the album – the LP.”

“The LP? Why?”

“Because the album doesn’t have Lost in Time and Space on it,” Compress says. “I’m not kidding, Shigaraki. Those were her exact words.”

Tomura has a hard time believing that. He’s pretty sure Compress is saying it just to build him up, because they’re halfway through the meet-and-greet, and nobody, not even the autograph hunters, has come to talk to Tomura. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomura didn’t start writing music so people will talk to him. That’s what he’s been insisting on since he started the band. Midway through their second tour, it’s almost the truth.

Compress leaves, and Tomura keeps writing, scratching away at a verse that’s not coming together. He’s just starting to wonder how much longer this thing is supposed to go on for when a shadow falls across his notebook page. “Um,” a girl’s voice starts. “Hi. Are you Tomura?”

“Dabi’s over there.”

“Yeah, I saw,” the girl says. “Are you Tomura?”

“I’m Shigaraki.” Tomura doesn’t look up. “You want to talk to Spinner? He’s over there. He likes the shy ones.”

Tomura’s not sure if Spinner likes the shy ones or if he’s just less scared of them than he is of the others. For a lead singer, Spinner’s unusually spooked by his fans. “Is Spinner the one who writes the songs?” the girl asks. “I wanted to talk to the person who writes the songs. If the liner notes are anything to go by, that’s you.”

Tomura looks up at tonight’s misguided, irritating fan, and stops at chest height when notes the lack of a backstage pass around your neck. He notes your breasts, too, and the fact that you’re not showing them off. “Nice work on sneaking in here without paying. Dabi will be impressed.”

“I didn’t sneak in,” the fan says. “The woman at the door let me in when I showed her this.”

Tomura doesn’t look up, and the fan sticks a notebook into the middle of his eyeline. A notebook with lined paper and the remnants of a torn-out page still clinging to the binding. Tomura fumbles in his pocket for the request he took and unfolds it, lining it up to match the torn edge of the page. The request is a little crumpled, but when Tomura smooths it out, he can see that the edges match.

His heart skips an awkward beat, then another. He’s not talking to a random fan. You’re the one who gave him the request. He hands you back the notebook without the request sets his own notebook aside, and gets to his feet, so he can finally get a look at your face. You’re pretty, and you’re dressed like you came here straight from an office job, and you came to talk to him – and he’s been a dick. “Sorry,” he says, the word feeling awkward and unwieldy as it forces its way out of his mouth. “Thought you were here for somebody else.”

You shake your head. “I was hoping to talk to you,” you say. “Sorry about the first-name thing. That was – awkward.”

You used Tomura’s first name, and Tomura was a jackass to you. That makes it even, in his opinion.  “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to thank you for taking my request,” you say earnestly. You remind Tomura of some of Spinner’s fans. “And I wanted to know why you picked the song you did.”

Now you sound more like one of Dabi’s fans. Dabi’s fans get kind of direct when they want something. “I’ll tell you that if you tell me why you gave me that request instead of a normal one.”

You look at Tomura, and Tomura looks back. “Can we sit down?” you ask. “I took an elbow to the knee trying to get through the mosh pit, and my leg’s still kind of numb.”

Something about that strikes Tomura as funny, but he doesn’t realize what it is until you’re both sitting down on the floor, leaned back against the wall. “Did you just make a Skyrim joke?”

“Don’t get too excited. I only know the one.” You glance sideways at Tomura. “Want to see the bruise?”

Usually when Dabi’s fans ask him if he wants to see something, they mean their tits. Or their ass. Tomura nods, and you hike up your pantleg. Tomura gets kind of fixated on your ankle, then your calf, but then you pull the fabric up over your knee, and Tomura winces in spite of himself. “Are you sure it was an elbow and not a hammer or something?”

“Maybe it was. Your fans are kind of crazy.”

“The band’s fans,” Tomura corrects. You let your pantleg fall back, covering up your calf and your ankle, and Tomura feels weirdly disappointed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Why I gave you that request?” You tilt your head back against the wall. “You write all the songs, but you never sing lead, and songs sound different when they’re sung by the person who wrote them. I thought if I asked for your favorite, you’d pick one you sing lead on.”

And you were right. Tomura feels weird about that. Weird enough to answer your question before you can ask it again. “I picked that one because it’s the only one I still sing lead on. I have favorites for the band. But I always pick those. I just thought it might be – fun.”

“I liked it,” you say. “When Dabi and Spinner sing, they’re telling a story. It’s a good story, and they’re telling it well, but – when you sang it, it sounded like it was about you. Do you feel like you’re writing about yourself when you write songs?”

“Do you usually get this personal with people you just met?”

“I don’t usually meet my favorite songwriter,” you say. “So no.”

Your favorite. “I’m not your favorite. Don’t lie.”

“I don’t lie about stuff like that,” you say. “I wouldn’t take an elbow to the knee for my second-favorite songwriter.”

Tomura snorts. “I didn’t know people had favorite songwriters.”

“I’m weird,” you say comfortably. Now you sound like a Toga fan. Or one of Twice’s. Their fans don’t take themselves too seriously. “And I’m a writer, so I know the good stuff when I see it.”

“You write?” Tomura asks. He wouldn’t have guessed looking at you. Then again, he wouldn’t have guessed that you’d be at a League concert, either. “Poems or something?”

“No, stories,” you say. Tomura’s a little bit relieved. “Stories have arcs and plots, just like your songs do – and the band’s albums – but you do it in a lot less space than I have to work with, so you’re much more efficient. You can define a character in two lines, and it’s compelling. People connect with it. They must, or they wouldn’t dress up in those outfits.”

Tomura tries not to pay attention to the outfits. Sometimes seeing what people took away from his songs is a little upsetting. Listening to you talk about what you like about his songwriting style is a different kind of upsetting, the kind where he wants to believe it and knows he shouldn’t. “What’s your favorite?”

“Meet Me in the Woods,” you say without missing a beat. “I was kind of sad you all didn’t play it.”

“We need a female vocalist,” Tomura says. “We rented one for recording it, but Toga doesn’t sing, and Magne wouldn’t do it even when Twice dared her to. And Dabi said his balls shrink every time he puts his falsetto up that high.”

You laugh at that. Tomura likes what it sounds like. “Spinner says the song gives him the creeps,” he adds. “I sang lead in the studio.”

“You should sing lead for that one,” you say. “And find a female vocalist.”

Tomura shrugs. “Job’s open if you want it.”

Your face flushes instantly. “I bet you know better jokes than that.”

“Can you sing?” Tomura asks. You look away in a hurry, the flush deepening. Now you look like a Spinner fan again, but you’re not saying no, either. Now Tomura’s interested. He gets to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

Tomura holds out a hand to help you up, and after a long second, you take it. “Let’s go.”

Tomura doesn’t let go of your hand, and you don’t pull away. It’s not until Tomura leads you back out onto the stage in an auditorium that’s now lit only by a ghostlight that you put the brakes on. “No.”

“There’s nobody in here but me,” Tomura says. “You said it’s your favorite song. Try it.”

“Would you try it, if you were me?” Your hand is shaking a little bit. “Faceplanting in front of my favorite songwriter was not on my agenda for this evening.”

“I’ll sing, too,” Tomura says. “I could always faceplant in front of my biggest fan.”

Maybe that was a dumb thing to say. Maybe you don’t want to be Tomura’s biggest fan. He waits for you to protest. Instead, you take a deep breath. “Start singing, then.”

The first verse is Tomura’s, and his joke about faceplanting in front of you gets a little too real in a heartbeat. There’s something weird about singing in front of just one person, someone he can’t see even though you’re right next to him. It’s a relief when you join him on the tag at the end of the verse, even if you’re quiet. And Tomura was right – you can sing, at least enough to harmonize, and to match his tone so your voice doesn’t clash with his. The real test will be the chorus, if you can keep pace with Tomura there.

And you can. Tomura knew you could, but he’s surprised by how good it sounds. By the last line of the chorus, you’re confident enough to screw around a bit, putting a turn on the last three notes of the third line instead of hitting them straight. Tomura’s not projecting his voice all that hard, and neither are you, but the auditorium’s empty. There’s nothing for your voices to hit that will deaden the sound, and the acoustics bounce it back in an echo that sends chills down Tomura’s spine.

When the echo fades, it’s silent. Next to Tomura, you shiver. “Maybe this was a bad place to sing this song.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Tomura will admit the line about the endless night hit a little harder than it was supposed to. “Tomorrow night, try not to stare into the lights.”

“I told you not to joke.”

“I don’t joke about stuff like this,” Tomura says. Now you’re reminding him of Spinner, who took way too much convincing before he’d believe that Tomura not only wanted him in the band, but wanted him to sing lead. “I told you. The job’s yours if you want it. Do you want it?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Where’s your next show?”

“A couple hours from here. Are you worried about your job or something?”

“No,” you say slowly. “Tonight was the last night of a business trip. I’m remote most of the time.”

“So you can work anywhere as long as you have internet access,” Tomura says. He hears you make some kind of distressed noise. “It’s your favorite song. I’ll put it in the set list and I’ll sing lead. You just have to sing it with me. Are you in?”

“This isn’t why I came here,” you say. “I just wanted to meet you and talk about your songs. I wasn’t trying to, like – get on the bus or something.”

“That would be a hell of a long con,” Tomura says. “I don’t think you’d go for that. Too many moving parts.”

“Yeah.” You make that distressed noise again. It’s sort of cute. “Is there a reason we’re still holding hands?”

“Yeah. It’s dark in here and I didn’t want you to fall of the side of the stage.” Tomura starts back towards the wings, pulling you along with him and trying to get his stupid grin under control before he steps back into the light. “Look at it this way. Even if you faceplant tomorrow night, it’ll be something to write about.”

“Are you going to write about this?” you challenge. “You never told me if you feel like your songs are about you.”

Tomura doesn’t, usually. He writes about characters for a reason. Most of the things that happen to him aren’t worth writing about. You, though – you fought through the mosh pit to give him your request, and then you came to find him after the show, and you like him as a lead singer and you can sing and you sound damn good singing with him. And you’re still holding his hand. Most of the things that happen to Tomura aren’t worth writing about. He met you half an hour ago and you already are.

You don’t try to let go of his hand, and you don’t hit the brakes again until you’re just outside the meet-and-greet room. “I want to know,” you say. The shellshocked look you had on when you got back into the light has faded. Now you just look pretty and stressed, and like you’re not going to take no for an answer. Tomura likes that. “Are your songs about you?”

“This one will be,” Tomura says, and he pulls you into the room to meet the rest of the band.

[hauntedestheart]

Security Measures - Thievery

Entry 5 in the Security Measures series- the stories of a boy named Trevor as he attempts to protect his possession-prone boyfriend Andy from snatchers.

In case you haven't caught on, Andy being prone to having his body taken over at any given time is a massive problem, and while he tries to be brave about it, it's clear that he's never going to be able to live a normal life until we find some kind of solution. How is he going to function in the world when can be "snatched away" at any moment?

And that's presupposing that all of these snatches remain temporary. What if, someday, someone (or something) figures out how to make their stay permanent? This would effectively mean death, and what a strange and horrifying death it would be- to just disappear from your own life, no one the wiser because your stolen face keeps going without you.

Andy would be gone, and I'd be the only one who knew to mourn him.

It hasn't happened yet (it never will if I have anything to say about it) but that doesn't mean that people haven't given it their best shot. And the usage of "people" is intentional here, because the majority of attempts to outright steal Andy's body have come from humans. Most supernatural body snatchers aren't interested in settling down permanently and prefer to move on after they've had their fun; it's the people who get greedy and try to play for keeps.

Luckily, the hellscape that is the modern world makes it difficult to pull off a complete hijacking. It's not as simple as just taking the bus to a new city and going by a fake name- the last guy that tried that learned the hard way how hard it is to find a job without a valid ID. The only place that would take him was a sketchy strip club where he spent two weeks shaking his stolen ass and living in a motel before we found him... he made good tips (after all, he stole a really nice ass) but I think he was a little bit relieved when we swapped them back and he got to go home.

At the time of writing, the longest someone else has managed to stay in Andy's body was three and a half weeks, and they were the worst twenty five days of my life. I can't imagine they were much better for Andy either.

He was a wealthy guy, wealthy enough that the usual red tape that holds back other thieves wasn't much of a concern, and he was hopelessly in love with a girl who didn't want him back because she wasn't attracted to him... but she WAS attracted to Andy, and the story wrote itself from there.

Pretend you know nothing that I've told you and just look at the situation from an outside perspective: overnight, Andy just ditched school and everyone he knew to go live in some mansion as the live-in boy toy of an annoying rich girl, and suddenly started acting like a cocky narcissist. Unless you know that this is the behavior of a body snatching who's just gone from pasty white prep to buff black Adonis, you'd just think that Andy was an asshole.

We couldn't even lie about what was happening because the guy used some of his connections to land a bit of modeling work, shamelessly plastering his ill-gotten goods across magazine spreads and billboards so everyone knew about at the amazing new life "Andy" was living. But the worst part of it was having to watch him parade around with his new girlfriend... seeing swanning about kissing my boyfriend, hanging off of his arm, petting his chest… it turned my stomach.

I searched and searched for some sort of countermeasure that would free Andy, but I had no clue what the guy did and nothing I tried seemed to work. I became scared that I was really going to lose him this time, that he would never get to live his own life, and that it would be all my fault.

I did end up solving the problem, but not in the way you might think- I called the guy's mom, who was very upset to learn what her son was doing while away at college and she straightened him out real fast. We even got to keep some of the residuals from the modelling stuff, so we came out ahead.

(Sidebar: I discreetly followed the guy on social media and now that I'm thinking about it, he hasn't been active in a while. Meanwhile the girl he was seeing has a hot new boyfriend out of nowhere… maybe I need to give his mom another call.)

So I guess the lesson here for anyone else struggling with a difficult to overcome body snatching situation is to stay calm, and remain grounded. When your body is in flux, your head is your best asset- and don't forget that even supernatural problems can sometimes be solved with human solutions.

[animeyanderelover]

Hiii, I don't see much of Jujutsu Kaisen so that's what I'll be requesting:

1. Happy deathday (Gojo, sukuna, nanami, Mahito, the 1st years)

2. Their reaction to s/o being able to nullify their ability (Gojo, sukuna, Mahito)

You can add other characters you'd like and think might be interesting.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, clinginess, paranoia, controlling behavior, sadism, isolation

S/o can nullify their abilities

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾I can see his s/o very well being assigned to Yuji as soon as the boy has swallowed Sukuna’s finger. The King of Curses himself doesn’t do much besides cackling over you as he sees you as nothing more but a mere babysitter. It has definitely happened that his mouth has popped up on Itadori’s face, tauntingly questioning you about what you hope to do once he actually gains control. You never appear shaken though, always fairly calm and composed as you reply to him before Yuji slaps the mouth shut and apologizes to you. Sukuna is always watching and he definitely observes your confident exterior which does elicit his curiosity. What exactly can you do? What are your abilities? He wants to test you, to see if you are only bark and no bite or if you can stand for your words. Yuji’s naïve wish to protect people is exploited for Sukuna’s own use and soon he snatches the chance to gain control of Yuji whilst he is in your presence. He is fully prepared to kill you if you don’t prove yourself.

🗾Only that the situation never escalates to a battle as all you do is touch him and seal his powers away, forcing him back inside Yuji’s mind. You don’t want to risk any unnecessary destruction. So you just brush him off as nothing? Who do you think you are? It’s a rare humiliation Sukuna has to suffer on that day as you aren’t even willing to fight him and label it as unneeded. He’s seething, his words from that day on filled with a lot more spite but you always reply with an equal amount of sass and snarl. He really has to work on that mouth on yours. As infuriated as he is though, he can’t deny that there isn’t a spark of attraction within this all though. He definitely has to put you in your place but your unique ability to cancel someone else’s technique is, even if quite plain-looking, definitely the ultimate counter against anyone. You’d definitely be useful in his later schemes to help him to regain all of his fingers and to get his original body back.

🗾The verbal banter between the two of you keeps going on as both of you essentially see who can deliver the heavier blow with their insults. A part of Sukuna is definitely yearning for a chance to get another chance to fight you physically but for now he has to be satisfied with this. He can’t deny it though, he is enjoying this by now quite a lot. He’ll tolerate this bratty and rebellious behavior of yours for as long as he is stuck inside the boy’s mind. As soon as Uraume has revealed themself, Sukuna is ordering his servant to keep a special eye on you for as long as he still hasn’t regained a body over which he has full control. You absolutely can’t die now that he has gotten so incredibly interested in you. As much as he would love to search for you right now and get his rematch, he feels his control slowly fading away. There is a sadistic grin on his face though as he takes one final glance at the havoc he has caused in Shibuya. He can’t wait to see your reaction of despair, knowing that it was your job to prevent something like this from happening.

Gojo Satoru

🩵He has always had a particular interest in you. Although you are a low-ranked sorcerer, there has always been something that has made Gojo’s day that much more delightful. Is it your frustrated facade whenever he is teasing the living daylight out of you? Is it the way you pout whenever you feel a bit neglected? Whatever it is, Gojo is absolutely obsessed about it and just can’t stop himself from always following you around. He is the worst attention-seeker possible and he either annoys you to have you focus on him or he is being more considerate and buys you expensive presents to gain your attention and maybe even some praise and a kiss out of gratitude. Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded if it would have stayed that way. But then you just had to develop this Domain Expansion of yours, didn’t you? An ability that completely eradicates all Cursed Energy within except your own, that drains the energy of all foreign living beings within and only strengthens you in return. Suddenly your popularity breaks through the roof.

🩵Suddenly Gojo’s perception of you changes as well. It is a development he doesn’t want to accept. You were supposed to only be this adorable sorcerer he knew about and paid attention to. You weren’t supposed to be the center of attention, be it good or bad. You weren’t supposed to be like him. He knows that the stronger and unique one’s powers are, the more likely they are to be targeted by those who fear such strength. Even if he has no proof for it, Gojo’s paranoia suddenly appears. What if you are really targeted by someone? What if you are killed by someone? The change in atmosphere when he is around you is palpable as he is a lot more rigid and his blue eyes are always darting around as if he fears that someone or something will come for your life at any moment. For a little while this is all he mainly thinks about as he tries to butter up to you by telling you about the experiences he has had as a child to justify his overly clingy behavior. It isn’t long until he has another realization though. Your abilities would even render his powers useless.

🩵Gojo’s identity has always tied into being the strongest, about being the one who no one can beat. Now you exist though. Now you are there and can eradicate his abilities. What does that make him then? Is he even himself if he isn’t the strongest? A part of Satoru is tempted to ask you to show him your Domain Expansion in the little hope that your powers won’t work on him. The other part of him is too frightened to do so as he doesn’t want his belief up until now to be destroyed. Who is he if he isn’t the one everyone has always thought him to be? The man is terrified, terrified as he realizes that the one person who could most likely kill him is you. That isn’t who you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be only his. Desperation and bitterness collide with each other as Gojo wishes that you would have just stayed that overlooked and weak sorcerer you used to be. You don’t need any Domain Expansion. You don’t even need to be a sorcerer. You only need him. Satoru will help you to realize this.

Mahito

🔷Mahito has always been carefree and goofy even whilst committing atrocities by toying around with humans. He has always gotten a good laugh out of Yuji’s moral lessons, about the boy’s anger whenever he transfigured and killed humans. It has always been fun and that is largely because so far Mahito has never been seriously beaten. Until he crosses paths with you. A freelancer of a sorcerer who isn’t really working for the Jujutsu society. It isn’t his first time that he has fought against a sorcerer and in hindsight his mistake was taunting you even whilst you weren’t willing to fight him. Of course he will never blame it on himself that he pushed you over your limit until you ran out of patience. Soon he is crying and screaming as he tries to scramble away from you yet without any success as he is in your Domain Expansion. Quivering pupils look at you as you calmly walk over, your fists stained in his blood as you look at him with chilling disregard. He isn’t even worth killing.

🔷Mahito is unable to live with the humiliation you give him on that day. Never before has he been on the weak side before, never before has he been on the side that suffers. That’s why he is unable to process it all. He’s deeply scarred after that encounter with you. Partially he is utterly and partially he yearns for revenge, traumatized as he can’t and won’t accept how you treated him on that day as if he was the disposable toy. Mahito initially becomes more obsessed with the thought of forcing you to cower on all four in front of him. He needs to correct his view on the world that has been shattered ever since you cursed his life. His body is still far too terrified to get close to you so the curse starts stalking you from a safe distance and he hates how his body always freezes in fear and panic if your head turns around, petrified that you might have sensed him. He hates what he has become of you, petty hatred all directed against you for this humiliation he had to endure because of you. Mahito wants to see you suffer even more than he did.

🔷Hatred soon gradually weakens with time though as Mahito starts getting interested in you. Initial plans to kill closed ones of you fail as he soon comes to realize that you are a true lone wolf. Your life is lonely and isolated from others as you like to keep to yourself. Why is that? Is there a deeper lying fear? Or does nobody like you? It is almost as if Mahito is actively trying to find something to pity you for all to boost his own sense of superiority and confidence. You really don’t seem to have anybody in your life and suddenly he is very adamant to keep it that way. Someone like you doesn’t deserve anyone and he even takes it a step further by interfering to the point where other sorcerers start distrusting you. He wants to see you lonely. He wants to find a way to break you because only then can he feel whole again. Don’t worry though. He’ll gladly keep you as soon as he has found out how to completely take away your abilities. He’s sure that you’ll be at your cutest when you’re at your weakest and most vulnerable point.

[geotjwrs]

Hey is it possible if you could do Jenna x male reader based off the song Dark Red by Steve Lacy? Thank you

only you babe

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The faint sound of music hummed in the background, barely loud enough to be heard over the quiet tension in the room. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his phone clutched in his hand, his eyes staring blankly at the screen. It had been an hour since Jenna had texted, and her silence felt louder than anything else in his life right now.

"I think you know that I miss you…"

The lyrics echoed in his mind, but all he could focus on was the gnawing feeling in his gut—the one that told him something was wrong. He hadn’t heard from her since their last conversation, and now every passing second felt like a countdown to something he didn’t want to face.

He stood up, pacing the small apartment. He’d always had this fear, deep down, that Jenna might slip away. That one day, she would realize she didn’t need him. And lately, that fear had started to feel more real. The way she’d been distant, the way her messages came less frequently, it all pointed to something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

"Something bad is ’bout to happen to me…"

The words from the song buzzed in his head, like a warning he couldn’t ignore.

Y/N ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything bearing down on him. He knew he should call her, talk to her, ask her what was really going on. But every time he thought about it, that voice in the back of his mind whispered, What if she’s done? What if you push her away?

Just as he was about to give in to the anxiety, his phone buzzed. A message.

Jenna: “Can we talk?”

Y/N’s heart dropped. He stared at the screen, his hands shaking slightly. Those words—“Can we talk?”—were never a good sign. He could feel the blood draining from his face, and the room suddenly felt too small, too hot.

He sat down again, his mind racing with every possible worst-case scenario. She was leaving, wasn’t she? She had found someone else, or maybe she had finally gotten tired of him. Y/N’s thoughts spiraled out of control, and before he could stop himself, he typed out a response.

Y/N: “Is everything okay?”

The seconds stretched into minutes, and still no response. Y/N stood up again, pacing even faster now, his palms sweaty as he waited for her reply. He couldn’t breathe. His mind was clouded with every possible thing that could go wrong.

"I think I’m losin’ it…"

He looked around the apartment, his gaze falling on the little things that reminded him of her. The jacket she’d left hanging on the back of his chair. The coffee mug she always used. The picture of the two of them sitting on the shelf, smiling like nothing in the world could ever come between them.

But now, Y/N wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t been sure for a while, and it scared him more than anything.

Finally, his phone buzzed again. He snatched it up, his heart pounding in his chest as he read her message.

Jenna: “Yeah, but… I just feel like things have been off between us lately.”

Y/N closed his eyes, feeling a lump form in his throat. He had known this was coming. He had felt it in every silence, in every missed call, in every time she had looked at him like she was seeing someone else. But hearing her say it, seeing it in black and white on his screen, made it real.

Y/N: “I know… I’ve felt it too.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to tell her how scared he was, how much he loved her, how the thought of losing her made him feel like he was drowning. But he didn’t. Instead, he just waited, feeling like the walls were closing in around him.

An hour later, Jenna showed up at his door. She stood there, her arms crossed, looking at him with those dark eyes that had always been able to read him like a book. There was something different in them tonight, though—something he couldn’t quite place.

Y/N stepped aside, letting her in. They hadn’t talked in person for a couple of days, and the air between them felt heavy, loaded with everything left unsaid.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice almost fragile as she walked past him.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, his throat tight. He closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a second before following her into the living room.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between them feeling much bigger than it had ever felt before. Y/N fidgeted with his hands, trying to come up with something to say, but his mind was blank.

Jenna looked at him, her expression soft but serious. “Y/N… I don’t know what’s been going on with us lately. But I can’t shake this feeling that something’s wrong.”

Y/N swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted to tell her everything—about how terrified he was of losing her, how he’d been feeling this weight of uncertainty pressing down on him for weeks. But instead, he just nodded, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, he’d make everything worse.

“Me too,” he finally managed to say. “I’ve felt it too.”

Jenna sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t want us to fall apart, Y/N. But lately, it feels like we’re not even on the same page anymore. Like we’re both just waiting for something bad to happen.”

Y/N’s heart sank. That was exactly how he had been feeling. Like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to say she was done with him. He hadn’t realized she was feeling the same way.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N said, his voice cracking slightly. He hated how vulnerable he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. This was Jenna, the girl he had loved for longer than he could remember, and the thought of her walking out of his life was unbearable.

Jenna’s eyes softened at his words. She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we need to figure this out, Y/N. We can’t keep going on like this, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

Y/N nodded, squeezing her hand tightly. “I know. I just… I’ve been so scared, Jenna. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize you didn’t want this anymore. That you didn’t want me.”

Jenna’s expression softened even more, and she moved closer to him, her hand still gripping his. “Y/N… that’s not it. I love you. I always have. But we can’t keep letting fear control us. We need to talk to each other, not shut down every time things get hard.”

Y/N closed his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. She wasn’t leaving. She didn’t want to leave. But the fear, the doubt, had been eating him alive for weeks, and now that it was out in the open, he realized just how much it had been affecting them.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head that I didn’t realize I was pushing you away.”

Jenna shook her head, her thumb gently brushing over the back of his hand. “We’ve both been doing it. But it doesn’t have to be like this. We can fix this, Y/N. We just need to be honest with each other.”

Y/N nodded, finally meeting her gaze. “I want that. I want us to be okay.”

Jenna smiled softly, leaning in to press her forehead against his. “We will be. But we have to stop letting fear get in the way.”

They sat there like that for a while, their foreheads touching, the weight of their unspoken fears slowly lifting. The tension between them wasn’t gone, but it felt lighter now, more manageable.

As the night wore on, Y/N realized that the dark cloud that had been hanging over them for so long was starting to fade. There were still things they needed to work through, still conversations they needed to have, but for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt like maybe they could make it through this.

And as he held Jenna close, he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t going to let fear take her away from him. Not again.

[eldritch-spouse]

You were being chased by some demented mushroom chef but you were able to get into this “abandoned” part of the building and the chef randomly stoped chasing you. Unbeknownst to you this section of the building has been “abandoned” because Santi realized to late that he was going into a heat and his perfect match decided to cross the threshold into his “domain” but hey at least you aren’t being butchered by a mushroom.

[You know what this smells like? Apocalypse AU.]

TW: Death; Gore

You have no idea you're in the very epicenter of the entire infection. Aka, quite literally the worst place you could hope to be, though not for the reasons that you'd expect.

When Krulu first came down with an illness he himself could not control, it was anyone's guess what might happen. Most didn't expect planetary contamination. Most didn't even understand what was currently unfolding. On the verge of perishing, weirdly ambivalent to it all, Krulu grants to his workers, what he can't grant to himself- Immunity. The Clergy's Eye is the very building that spawned this life-devouring mess, but also the location where none can catch it. Krulu's carcass lies hidden in its bowels, where no one but his most devout chosen accompanied him to an untimely end.

You don't know any of this. You don't know that the only reason you were able to wander in to begin with is because the protective "curtains" Krulu had over the building all but popped out of existence the moment he ceased to live.

All you know is that this place is brimming with resources, and looks suspiciously well-kept, when everything else around it is dilapidated and covered in contamination agents.

Luck graced you initially. Many of the Clergy members spend a good part of their days entirely inactive, mostly to preserve energy as food runs ever more scarce. But one of these monsters who absolutely can't afford to stay inactive for long is Morell. He's the one organizing hunts, deciding when and where and how- Scraping dishes out of whatever's out there that's minimally edible.

He can't afford to lose any opportunities.

Having a pig walk right into his jaws is just the biggest blessing, so of course he's expending every ounce of energy he has to catch you. Snatch you, wrap his terrifying, shaking hand around one of your soft little joints and crack it to pieces so you'll stop running. He's going to make you last, he's going to take itty bitty pieces, everyone will get the most out of you, yes. He can make it work, you're a true god-send!

Which is why he damn near tears the elevator doors asunder when you manage to dart into it. You may think you'll be safer, but Morell knows you'll just have a less effective end. One of the others will get excited and gut you right then and there, will eat you whole, leave nothing for the others.

What he didn't expect, is that you might end up in the floors Santi has most dominion over. The guest rooms. Over there, could the faintest glimmer of hope be seen?

Santi sleeps in all the beds, particularly the ones he can still smell people on, the ones with traces of use, lying on them like a dragon in a nest of pillows. He subsists on the lust of his coworkers, whenever they're well-fed enough to even experience sexual urges, or when they're just so incredibly fucked up that they'll take any distraction offered to them. He's in a perpetual starved state not too dissimilar from his heats, but increasingly more unbearable.

His coworkers lock him in the guest floors with magical wards and powerful minerals when he becomes too much to handle, but Santi knows those locks aren't impenetrable, he knows they'll fail and flicker eventually, and no one can stop him then.

When he hears you, it feels like a dream. Like he finally croaked and his nightmare continues in whatever rotted afterlife his soul projects. Someone just wandering in, after so long, he spends way too much time stalking after you without doing a thing. It feels too good to be true, especially as you start succumbing to the few pheromones he still has enough energy to pump. To permeate these rooms with.

Malnourished as he is, whether or not you're anyone's match goes entirely unnoticed. You're already enough of a miracle for him. He has plans for you, and they're quite different from Morell's, yes. You won't end up on anyone's plate, but Santi will eat off you selfishly. And as he feeds enough, he'll protect you from the rest, surely.

He can keep you safe, so you'll listen to him, naturally. Otherwise it's certain death for you, love.

By the time you hear the door shut behind you, it's far too late, and Santi has trapped you in one of the guest rooms, looking wild and disheveled beneath a very flimsy attempt to look suave.

Would you sit down please, he'd coax, tracking your every motion when you jumped and shook, I'd like to have a talk with you.

[goodtobeswift]

So glad I’m not the only one getting obsessed over Descendants all over again haha 😅

Sooo how about a Harry Hook reuniting with a crush!Reader who’s picked with the og VK’s to go to Auradon in the first film? I’d imagine one of the parents to be either Madam Mim or Mother Gothel (maybe she went cuckoo and snatched someone else’s kid), but of course it could just be left ambiguous since the entire point of a reader insert is for it to be the reader.

If Harry were close enough to someone to get a crush on them/fall in love I feel like they wouldn’t be friends with Mal and co, so Reader would probably get left out of going to the Isle in the second movie and probably wouldn’t see Harry until the barrier is brought down (and knowing Auradon, Reader probably wouldn’t be able to send letters (if it were me Id probably use interviews/events that broadcast to the Isle to say hi real quick so the Sea Three know they haven’t been forgotten)).

These are just suggestions of course so feel free to write the scenario/oneshot/drabble/etc however you see fit, I’m just a sucker for mutual pining and reunions haha-

If you don’t want to write this request for whatever reason please feel free to just delete it, thank you for taking time out of your day to write this if you do and have a good day ^-^

LOVED THIS IDEA!! i want to think this through a little more bc i want them to meet during the events of the second movie and god is harry pissed when he sees her after six months. she might said she misses her friends back in the isle but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel betrayed.

i think he’d be super snappy, not letting reader explain herself OH ANDi can picture him losing his mind and yapping to uma and gil right after he got the news😭😭 like very much to his dismay he can’t believe he’s still in love

also, if you want to keep requesting or keep expanding this idea i’m super down and i’d like you (or anyone) to claim anon emojis so i can keep up with the asks! bc i got more than i thought (IM WORKING ON THEM DW🫡)

[hannieween]

opening night | backstage series | l.sm

“Just play along,” he said softly, his lips curving into a playful smile as he leaned his head to kiss you deeply in front of everyone who, until that night, thought you were heartbroken for someone else.

♡︎ pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: smut. 18+ mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ word count: 9.3k ♡︎ aus: theatre performer!seokmin, fake dating with benefits

₊🎧: love me a little – shownu x hyungwon

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ a/n: i am only posting this for fun, but do let me know if you like it pls pls pls. thought of this idea while doing the dishes, quite literally.

♡︎ warnings: swearing, alcohol use, minor mentions of drugs, pet names: baby, noodle (hers), smut with plot, soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, seokmin is kind of a simp, teasing, making out, sexual tension, unprotected sex, couch sex, creampie, hand kink, fingering (f), oral sex (f), reader is quite dramatic, might contain some minor spelling or grammar mistakes and for that i'm sorry.

part 1

Nothing could compare to opening night jitters. There were some shows in which you didn't feel this nervous, small shows, small audiences or those times you had to act in front of other colleagues. It always made you jittery in some way. Tonight, the feeling of not being able to breathe was worse.

It was as if a bubble of air got trapped in your chest, and no matter how much you breathed in and out, nothing could get rid of it.

And not to mention the inescapable tunnel vision. It was something you suspected that it only happened to you, though. You could not focus on anything at all. Food? Not hungry. Thirsty? Maybe. But those were things that you could tend to once the first show is over.

"Shit. I think I forgot my lines," you blurt out with a shaky sigh.

The script was lying on the single chair propped in front of the vanity mirror. But the dressing room was so crowded with people getting ready that you just didn't see the chance of reading out some of it again.

"You know," someone started behind you, "for someone who has been doing this for years, you certainly can't control your pre-show emotions."

You didn't have to turn to know whose voice it was. "Sorry," you reply shortly. "I haven't done this in a short while."

"Well, put yourself together. We begin in five." Minghao told you. He was just finishing dressing the supporting cast, so he gave you a look.

"What?" you say, and look down at what you were wearing, thinking that somehow you had managed to ruin your dress that he carefully confected for your role.

Minghao grabbed you by the shoulders, a soft smile began to show on his lips and he said. "You're going to do alright. Just breathe, and show them what you're worth. It'll be over in two hours."

And with that, you released a long sigh. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he nodded, patting you on the head. "Is that Soonyoung's vest?" He said suddenly, snatching the vest from a chair and exiting your dressing room. "Soonyoung, come here you little rascal!"

It has been about five months since you stepped on a stage. So, there were a few things you need to get a hold on before the show begun. You used to have a pre-show ritual, which consisted in getting into character as much as possible.

However, things changed when you had to take a break after you and your ex called it quits. Now, you don't feel as connected to that ritual anymore. Besides, you haven't had a lead role in a play since your final year at uni.

It usually got really quiet backstage when the show was about to start. Everyone was aware that voices carry all the way to the audience, so movements were quiet, and noises kept at minimal. You closed your eyes for a moment before going to the stage and play your part.

Opening nights were always a challenge. Despite rigorous rehearsals, you were faced with doubt, often believing you could spot the smallest flaws and exaggerating them to fix them.

But this opening night was sort of different. You felt at ease. Exhilarated, even. Once the play was over and you finished bowing to the audience, you went back to the dressing rooms to get rid of your dress and make up.

You changed into something more comfortable. And as you were cleaning your face, you listened to the other girls in the dressing room gush about the people they saw at the seats. Apparently some more renowned actors had come to see the play, as well as some journalists.

That made you think that you didn't invite someone to come see you. You did your part to promote the play in social media, but nothing more.

However, you did see some familiar faces as you made your way out of the dressing room. Seokmin and Seungkwan were bantering loudly about something unbeknownst to you, their voices and laughter were so sounding that you were quick to locate them.

Seungkwan had Seokmin on a playful chokehold when they both saw you. Before you could ask, Seungkwan snapped his head at you. "We're settling a matter like men. Be there with you in a sec," at the same time that Seokmin blurted through his teeth: "Help."

"Ah, they're at it again," you turned to see Soonyoung who was throwing a backpack over his shoulder. "Seokmin has been teasing Kwannie a lot these days."

"What else is new?" you hummed.

You two watched for a brief moment, only to Soonyoung turn to you and chirp. "Anyway, want to leave these two behind and go buy some booze? 'S on me."

You watched his cheeks grow fuller as he pursed his lips. He had one thumb raised, pointing towards the exit.

"That sounds great," you say, grabbing him by the arm.

You turned to the exit, leaving your two other friends fight over yet another stupid thing.

The cold air of autumn hit your face as soon as Soonyoung pushed the door open.

"So," Soonyoung begun and suddenly you knew what was coming, "how you've been?"

The question was simple. But you knew what he meant.

"I've been doing okay, Hoshi," you replied shortly. "You don't need to worry about me."

He hummed. "You can talk to me anytime. You know that, right?"

You two arrived at the liquor store. It was friday night, so there was a couple of people buying alcohol for the night.

"You have done enough for me," you gave him a reassuring smile. "Letting me crash in your apartment for months until I found something for my own is something I will always be grateful for."

He sighed. "You don't have to do that. And you don't owe me anything, you dumbass."

"Do what?" you objected.

"You're avoiding it," he shrugged. "But hey, you don't wanna talk about it, fine. I'll wait."

You smiled and slapped the front of his cap down. "Come on, Soonyoung. Don't get all sappy on me. This is supposed to be a fun night."

He finally smirked, fixing his cap. "Right. Soju."

When Seungkwan and Seokmin finally got to the liquor store, they were sweaty and panting, they probably had to run to catch up with you and Soonyoung. But they were laughing about something as you reunited with them on the sidewalk outside the store.

"Hi there, noodle," Seokmin raised his hand and patted your head at the same time that his other hand reached for the six pack of beer you were holding to carry it himself.

You cringed at the name he used to call you. Which was born after a professor called you only by noodle arms in a dance class you four had to take at uni.

"Dk, it's been ages since you called me that," you whined, but as soon as he propped his arm around your shoulders you couldn't help but smile in his familiar warmth.

"Well, I've suddenly forgotten your name. You're Noodle now," he spoke in an old man's tone. But broke in a laugh as you poked his rib with your finger. "Sorry."

You walked in pairs towards the fancy apartment building down the street.

"Were you in the audience?" you asked.

"Yeah, obviously. Soonyoung wouldn't shut up about the play for weeks," he pressed his lips into a smile. "Besides, it's your first lead role in a while, I wouldn't have missed it."

"Did you like it?"

Seungkwan turned, and you understood he could listen on everything you and Seokmin were saying. "He fell asleep. Obviously," he sassed.

"I dozed off for two minutes!" Seokmin bellowed, but a wide smile formed on his face. "I did get to see your parts, though. And Soonyoung's."

"Thanks for coming, guys."

"No problem," Seokmin smiled briefly. "Hey, I heard that you moved out of Soonyoung's. Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped."

Just five months ago, your world turned upside down when you found out your ex had been cheating on you for weeks. To make matters worse, it was with that one girl he told you not to worry about.

You had to move out of the apartment you shared with your ex, leaving behind many things you couldn't take with you. That is when Soonyoung came to your rescue and offered his place for you to crash for a while.

"Well, I didn't need much help anyways. It was just a few boxes, really."

"I was still sad you didn't call though. You haven't even shared your new address," he pouted as he spoke, and you could tell he was joking. "It made me contemplate the whole meaning of our friendship, you know."

You snorted. "Not you too," you exclaimed. "First, Hoshi gets all corny with me and now you."

He showed a downturned smile. "You know I'm only playing with you. Soonyoung, however, thinks you're still a ticking time bomb."

You glanced at your friends, who were walking some steps ahead of you. Soonyoung was showing Seungkwan some TikToks he recorded for the company's official account, so you were out of their earshot.

"And you don't?" you asked.

He shrugged, looking at the floor as you made your way towards the tall building's lobby. "I think you're doing alright. Better than any of us would in your position. Honestly."

You let out a long sigh. "I just wish that people would stop asking me about it. I'm tired of it, the pity treatment, the tiptoeing around the subject."

"Well, you can't just expect us to not worry," he said softly.

"I know," you coincided.

You were still walking together, since Seokmin had his arm in your shoulders. Lately he did it often, and you didn't mind. You liked the the warmth with which he always treated you.

"I sometimes think that I was emotionally checked out from the relationship some time before I found out," you say, and felt that you could've dropped a bomb with that confession.

"So that's why you don't want to talk about it," he reasoned, his brow furrowed, deep in thought.

"I think so," you shrugged. "But I'm being honest when I say that I'm okay."

"And I believe you," he assented, pulling you closer for a brief moment and then dropped his arm from your shoulders. "I won't bring it up again."

The four of you entered the elevator that took you to the large apartment of the show's director, who was a young man you knew from your early days at uni. He had suddenly found his way through and had started to direct full plays in local theatres. His name was Yoon Jeonghan. And he hosted a party for every opening night.

It was your first time in that apartment. You knew the director in person, however, the three guys riding with you in the elevator knew him better, as they have had more roles than you these past few months.

You feel a slight tug to your side. "You know he's most likely going to be there, right?" Seungkwan said quietly, eyeing you with caution.

"I know," you mumbled. "'M going to be alright."

Now, why would you go to a place where you probably would encounter you cheating ex? Some part within you was deeply uninterested to see him again. And the other part was just enraged that he somehow mattered in your life still.

The opening night after party was almost like a tradition now, at least for most of the people who were close to Jeonghan.

The apartment was crowded, and you could tell it was set up to avoid bothering the neighbours. It had cushioned, soundproof walls, shaded windows, speakers kept at a reasonable volume, and many guests were congregating on the spacious terrace.

Jeonghan was a great host. He was kind of shy, but eager to meet everyone personally. He welcomed you with a warm smile, however he did hug the boys as they stepped into his large apartment.

You were quickly left to your own devices as your three friends were absorbed into the group of partygoers. Then you remembered how popular they have been since you met them.

The trio kind of took you in from that point forward because you were the one who organized university projects and stayed on top of schoolwork. But short after that, you found a close group of friends who were always there for you.

You decided that the only way you were going to get through the night was with some alcohol in your system. You weren't either an introvert or extrovert, you always thought you were in some middle point.

But your ex was there, sitting outside in the terrace with a girl beside him. You never knew the girl he cheated on you personally, but you knew it was her.

You snorted.

Suddenly, you felt a hand at your back. Seokmin looked at you, wariness in his eyes that dissipated quickly. "Want something to drink?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"I feel like a bad influence," he simulated a shudder. "It's exciting."

You two downed your first glass of soju.

A few moments, the one glass of soju turned into the whole bottle. You drank while singing karaoke with strangers or with your friends. You drank while meeting new people and getting to know those who were part of your cast.

As you said, you were alright.

You just finished singing a song in the karaoke with Seokmin, who could hold his liquor a lot better than you. Both of you laughed at the way you couldn't keep up with the lyrics anymore and became a slurry mess.

"Never again," you say as the karaoke score marked a 10% on the screen.

"Remind me to never let you do this again," he agreed, teary eyed and red on the face from laughing with you.

The microphones were passed to other people, and soon after that, the party settled for just music.

Your chest still hurt from laughing.

"I'll go get some air," you announced a bit breathlessly as you made your way to the terrace.

Suddenly, Seokmin's hand made its way to your waist again and you glanced at him, his face had hardened.

And then you understood why.

As you were heading outside, your ex was leaving the terrace with his new girlfriend causing an awkward encounter. Your ex gave you a casual nod as if you were friends still, and his new girlfriend shot you a sly smirk as your arms brushed past each other.

"Hey, y/n," your ex goaded as they made their way inside the apartment.

You didn't reply.

Within this awkward exchange, you don't know how Seokmin's hand ended up intertwined with yours.

The air on the terrace smelled like a mixture of weed, vape and cigarettes. But it was cruelly cold enough to cool your body.

Seokmin mumbled something under his breath. And you noticed he was glancing at the back of your ex's neck with a scowl on his face.

You squeezed his hand, still not knowing how he grabbed you.

"How drunk are you?" he asked, his face was still serious.

"A bit. I think I'm beginning to sober up."

"Good," he breathed, pushing his bangs from his forehead and with them his furrowed brow. "Can you do something for me, noodle?"

You hit him in the shoulder. "Don't call me that," you smiled. "What do you want?"

"How about," he begun, not letting go of your hand, "I pretend to be your date for the night? Make the bastard realize he has no room in your life anymore."

"What," you blurt out and blinked feeling a bit perplexed at his offer. "You've finally lost it, Seokmin."

"I'm sorry. I know I said I wouldn't bring it up again. But I hate the way he thinks you still give a shit about him."

"I don't," you blinked.

"Then why would he go out of his way to even speak to you?" he countered.

"Seokmin, are you angry?" you gasped.

You could count on the fingers of your hand the number of times you'd seen Seokmin angry. And the other times it didn't matter because he was more the sulky type when something was bothering him. But at that moment, he was pissed off.

"A bit, yeah," he admitted with a sigh, but immediately flashed a sincere smile, almost as if his anger was a little embarrassing to him. He raised his brow. "But my offer still stands, though."

"D'you think it will work?" you mused.

"It might tell your ex a thing or two about leaving you alone. And as a plus, everyone else will also stop asking you about what happened between you and him." Seokmin added, almost casually.

You glanced towards the other end of the terrace briefly, and realized that Seungkwan was eyeing you too, a worried look on his eye as you caught him.

Licking his lips, he grabbed you by the shoulders. "What do you say?" He seemed relaxed, even focused; he tilted his head slightly as he looked into your eyes.

You held his gaze, listening to his words. Realizing that they were very much real and that Seokmin was dead serious about it.

Then, you realize how close you were to his body. His hands slid from your shoulders to your arms, where he traced soft lines with his fingers.

"Just for tonight," you murmured, but it came out sounding like a question.

"As long as you want," he offered. One hand found your chin, his fingers pressing softly on your hot skin.

You looked at his dark brown eyes. The relaxed look on his face was almost unsettling. As if he knew your answer already.

"Deal," you breathed.

His fingers angled your face towards him. "Just play along." He said softly, his lips curving into a playful smile as he leaned his head to kiss you deeply in front of everyone who, until that night, thought you were heartbroken for someone else.

Your hands found the back of his head, burying your fingers in his soft copper hair. You couldn't ignore that it had been a long while since your body felt so ablaze. Maybe it was the remaining alcohol on your system doing its part.

But even before you and your ex split, you felt kind of longing for the touch of someone. Something real. And although Seokmin was playing a role as he did on stage, kissing him felt different. It felt good.

As the kiss deepened, his tongue brushed your lower lip almost hungrily and you thought your knees might buckle under the shudder. A moan was quickly supressed in his mouth when his hand moved from your face to the back of your hair, his fingers tangling in a soft fist.

"I never imagined you'd be this good of a kisser," you confess.

Your chests were now pressed together, so you felt him chuckle. "Well, you know now," his demeanour had changed completely.

You wanted to look if anyone had seen you. But Seokmin was quick to read your intentions. He grabbed your chin again softly, forcing you to keep looking at him.

"Act normal," he ordered quietly with a look of endearment on his face, as if he were saying something sweet to you.

"I've never done this before," you sighed.

"I can tell," he smiled sweetly.

"Don't tell me you've done this before!"

He removed his hands from you, and made a gesture with his head, pointing towards the couch on the terrace. "Come with me."

You sat next to him, and as you did so, you saw Seungkwan's face, he was looking over at you both with an expression on his face that clearly read, 'what the fuck?' to you.

Seokmin scooted close to you on the couch, and placed one hand on you thigh and his other hand rested on his own thigh.

"I haven't done this before either," he confessed. "But you're an actress, and I'm an actor. We can act this out."

You snorted. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Lee Seokmin," you said drily.

Seokmin was smiling sweetly at you. Your shoulders were pressed together and your thighs were also so close that you might as well just sit on his lap. You fought against the thought.

"Then, act like you're my girl," he said idly, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek.

An exhilarating feeling roused deep within you. You fixated on how comfortable his hand on your thigh looked, and the ease to which Seokmin took your face with his other hand and captured your lips with his.

Your hand met the one that was holding the side of your face.

"Afraid to put on a little show?" he coaxed.

A smirk crept on your lips, almost involuntarily you find yourself saying. "What do you want me to do?"

He blinked slowly, almost as if he was a little startled by your new demeanour. "Just relax." he put in softly. "And if you don't like something, tell me. Okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

His thumb caressed your jawline softly, before pressing his lips with yours. What started as a sweet kiss, slowly evolved to a enticing one. His mouth explored yours, biting softly at your lower lip, and his tongue lapping yours, testing what made you whimper or what made your hand clasp his.

You rested your forehead against his for a bit, catching your breath. "I hate that you are so good at this."

He laughed, taking one strand of hair and tucking it behind your ear. "Why is that?" he asked quietly.

"Dunno. I never thought of you as anything other than my friend."

His eyebrows shot up. "You never thought of me doing this?" he asked almost amazed.

"You did?" you quipped with half a smile.

Then you thought of doing something with your hands, since they were laying flat on your thighs. You pushed some strands of hair from Seokmin's forehead, and brushed the hair that you had messed up when you kissed.

His eyelids fluttered briefly. "I mean, I did wondered."

You pointed a finger to his face. "Don't lie, Seokmin."

He smiled sheepishly. "I just wondered what you'd be like. Honest."

"And?" you ask.

Seokmin shrugged. "You're not terrible."

The tingling sensation in the lower pit your stomach only intensified. Almost as if Seokmin had just challenged you. You laughed at his words, seeing his chapped lips smile at your reaction.

You locked your lips with his again, but this time more confidently, and your slipped your tongue to meet his. Your hands grabbed his face, and travelled to the sides of his neck, earning a small moan from him.

Feeling embarrassed, you broke away to breathe. If Seokmin noticed that you were getting all worked up, he said nothing about it. Yeah, you were both actors and have known each other for years, but you were human. And somehow Seokmin knew where to put his hands and how to kiss you perfectly.

You pulled out your phone from your pocket and opened your camera. Seokmin understood immediately and took your phone from your hands and angled it to capture you both for a few photos.

He took photos of you leaning your head on his shoulder, one in which you kiss him on his cheek and he smiles, and another one of him kissing the top of your head.

The photos would be kept in your album, as you didn't intend on actually posting them. Not yet anyway.

You tried not to think too hard about how crazy this all was. A part of you didn't feel awkward, as if the familiarity of his body near yours was meant to be this way anyway.

Testing your own boundaries, you turned to him, grabbing his chin to kiss him again, and you realized just how much you liked his lips on yours. But you didn't think it was anything else.

You nuzzled to his side softly. "D'you think that was enough of a show?" you mumbled to his ear, feeling embarrassed that you were so breathless from kissing.

You felt Seokmin smile again as if you had just spoken sweet nothings to his ear. "I think. Wanna get out of here?"

"Sounds good to me."

You stood up from the couch at the same time as Seokmin. He promptly grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers in his. As you made your way out of there, you and Seokmin waved at your friends goodbye. Making a show that you were leaving hand in hand with Seokmin.

As soon as you stepped on the elevator, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Before you saw the screen, you knew what you were about to read.

[10:39 PM] boo: hello ??? [10:39 PM] boo: wtf are you doing? [10:40 PM] you: wdym? [10:40 PM] boo: with dk ?? [10:40 PM] boo: since when ?

"We have to come up with a story," you tell Seokmin, who was leaning his back against the wall of the elevator.

He was looking at his own phone. And you couldn't help but eye at his lithe fingers. You sighed, pushing your thoughts away.

"I agree," he said and showed you his screen. Messages from Seungkwan and Soonyoung were popping on the screen so urgently that you couldn't read any.

You buried your hands in your pockets along with your phone. "I think we did stir up some waters," you muttered.

Seokmin pressed his lips into a content smile. "Hopefully they stop nagging you with questions of your ex."

"They're going to ask questions about you now," you countered with a smile. "Though I rather talk about you than that jerk."

"That is the plan," Seokmin smirked.

"Why, though?" you find yourself asking.

Seokmin eyed you for a second. "At first it was because I really despise your ex," he confessed. "But I think I'm obligated to tell you that I really liked it. The attention."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Promise?" you insist.

He came to a full stop on the sidewalk and you were force to stop too. Seokmin held out one pinky finger towards you wordlessly.

You breathed out with a smile. "This is not necessary." You say, linking your finger with his.

It wasn't just a pinky promise. It was something your group of friends took too seriously. You didn't lie to each other, and promising it with your pinkies could very well serve as an oath.

It was childish. But your friend group liked it that way.

Seokmin walked you to your apartment building, which also served as a way to show him where you lived now.

"Talk to you tomorrow," Seokmin said as he pull you into a bear hug and patted your head affectionately.

"Sure," you said.

He watched as you entered the building, and waved at you goodbye before disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Someone peeked over your shoulder to look at your phone screen to the point where you can feel their breath on your neck.

That someone was Boo Seungkwan.

You've been typing nonstop for five minutes, your fingernails snapping at the screen in a frenzy.

"Stop snooping," you tried to tell him while typing.

The coffee shop where you both work part-time has been quiet, as it's almost 9 p.m. and you're both about to clock out. There have only been a couple of passing customers during the last hour of your shift, so your attention has been diverted elsewhere.

You hear a sigh and then, "So you're not going to tell me what happened yesterday?"

"'Bout what?" you said absentmindedly.

"About what happened with Seokmin," he answered pointedly.

"What about it? We just kissed."

You heard him scoff. "You two did not just kissed, you made out on a dirty couch. And then you both disappeared for the rest of the night. Yeah, you're not fucking fooling me."

You didn't find it strange to hear him curse. He's been your friend for years, ever since you met at university. But he's lately been expressing his annoyance with you for your decisions, so you hear him cursing a lot more lately.

That is what pulled your gaze from the phone screen. "Don't put it like that. The couch was decent."

He rolled his eyes, and cursed some more. "Now, you're trying to be coy. The couch doesn't matter. What matters is that you kissed with your friend, our friend!"

"And? We're two consenting adults," you shrugged while trying to keep a straight face. But you couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed.

"Are you guys a thing then?"

You stared at him, racking your brain to come up with an answer.

A customer entered the shop at the same time you opened your mouth to tell Seungkwan everything that happened last night. Somehow, you didn't see far up ahead your actions and didn't think Seungkwan would react like this. So you feel secretly grateful that the customer drove you away from that conversation.

"Listen," Seungkwan said as soon as you two finished closing up. "I really don't care what you two are, I just hate it when you keep me in the dark on important stuff like this. Before last night, I though you were still broken over Youngho."

You two usually walked home together whenever you had to close the shop. Seungkwan lived a couple of blocks away from you so you kept each other company.

You contemplated sharing with him that what happened with Seokmin was improvised on the spot. That you were just as surprised with the turn of events as he was. But, telling him would just trump the deal you had struck with Seokmin.

And you were a bit too greedy to let that happen.

"I'm sorry, Seungkwan. I know it was shitty of me to not mention anything," you found yourself saying with a small shrug.

"That and playing dumb," he said, shooting a resentful glance at you.

"Yeah, and playing dumb or whatever," you said, rolling your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Can you cover me on monday morning?" he answered a bit too quickly.

You snorted. "Sure. But only if you promise to stop berating me."

"I am not berating you."

You continued walking to the apartment complex in silence. For a short bit, though. You knew what was coming.

"So you two are a thing or not?"

"Sorta," you shrugged again.

"Sorta," he parroted.

You stopped at the door of the building where you live.

The weather was cold, to the point that Seungkwan's breath could be seen as he sighed with a weak smile.

"Well, just don't fuck this up, okay?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "I know that you are a big girl and can take care of yourself but, just don't do something stupid just because you can't move on."

"I got it, Kwannie," you tried to brush off with a hand gesture. "I promise not to fuck it up, okay?"

"See you tomorrow." He turned around and walked towards two buildings down the street, where he lived with his roommate Vernon.

"See ya!"

In the elevator, you scrambled for your keys, which were in the pocket of your jacket. You tried to play it cool with Seungkwan, however couldn't help but feel anxiety pulsating on your stomach as the elevator doors opened with a ding noise.

Seokmin lifted his head to the sound, he was leaning back next to your apartment door, phone in his hand. "Hi there," he said with a soft smile that reached his eyes.

"Hi. Have you been waiting long?"

He stood up straight and pocketed his phone as you walked to the door and opened it. You glanced sideways at him, he was wearing the oversized hoodie from last night, but instead of jeans he was now wearing grey sweat shorts.

"Nope. Just ten minutes."

"I couldn't shake off Seungkwan's prying," you informed, as you both entered your apartment.

You closed the door behind you two, removing your boots at the entrance. Seokmin followed suit and removed his Nike's, carefully placing them next to your boots.

"I imagined as much," he hummed. He still had a content smile on his face.

You two held each others gaze for a moment. Only to realize that you hadn't even turned on the lights, or fully invited him to your apartment.

"Make yourself at home," you chimed, turning on the lights of the living space. It was empty except for the lone large sofa, a TV screen perilously propped up on a plastic table, and a pile of boxes from when you moved out of your ex's apartment.

Seokmin smirked.

"I haven't had the chance to unpack yet... or buy more furniture," you murmured briefly.

He noticed the pillow and the pile of blankets that were tossed in the couch. "I assume that you don't have a bed yet, either."

"I just have the bed frame," you reply as you remove the pillow out of the way and fold the blankets in half. "It's still packaged, though."

"Hey, don't think I'm judging you," he raised the palms of his hands innocently. "I use to sleep on the floor at a friend's place when I got to this city, remember?"

Seokmin was a great friend. If you could describe him succinctly, it would be that. A great friend. You knew he wasn't judging you, since the curiosity in his smiling eyes didn't fade as he sat on the couch and eyed the piles of boxes that were labelled with your name in your ex's handwriting.

You also knew that Seokmin sleeping on the floor when he moved to the city to study was not the same as being kicked out of you and your ex's apartment after he cheated on you. But you were glad that his mind didn't go there, evidently.

"Can I offer you anything?" you sighed heavily. "I may not have furniture yet, but my fridge is full and the rent is paid."

"Well, that is what matters as far as I'm aware. I'm fine, thank you," he pressed his lips. He then scooped to the side and patted next to him on the couch.

Right.

"So..." you breathed, sitting down next to him. "You wanted to talk."

You were now sitting next to each other. Being so close to him sparked something deep within you, something that last night made you feel alive.

Then, you knew that you were in trouble. It was alarming the fact that you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You were aware of every gesture, every movement Seokmin made. You gulped.

Seokmin sat with his knees spread slightly apart, his hands resting comfortably between his thighs. "About last night," he begun.

"I, uh-"

"If we're going to do this, we need some ground rules," he declared.

"Wait. Seriously?" you blurted out.

"Wha- what did you think I was going to say?" He looked up to catch your gaze.

"I thought you were going to back out."

"Oh, you want to call it off?" Seokmin retorted, his eyes searching your face.

"No. Not really. Last night was..."

His eyes lit up along with a playful smile. "Fun?"

"Yeah, exactly," you matched his smile. "Well, I don't enjoy lying to Seungkwan, but at least I didn't get the pity treatment, for once."

"Wait. What did you say to him?"

"That we are sort of a thing," you mumbled.

His eyebrows pushed up. "And he believed that?" Seokmin laughed, brushing his hair hastily with his lithe fingers.

"He seemed to," you shrugged. "He stopped questioning me after that."

"Well, that is what you wanted, isn't it?" he shifted beside you, so that he was facing your body. Then he took that same hand to fix his watch on his other wrist.

You mirrored his movements, and now the two of you sat facing each other on the couch. You leaned your head on your hand, with your elbow resting on the couch's headrest.

"So what happens next?" you asked.

Seokmin shrugged slightly, a relaxed look on his face. "Whatever you want, I told you."

You bit your lip for a second, aware of the fact that Seokmin was gazing at your mouth and your eyes, silently waiting for your response.

"I'm still thinking of last night," you confessed, the act of being that blunt made your cheeks heat up.

"Me too. I couldn't think of anything else," he smirked. Your eyes lingered a bit on his lips too.

He toyed a bit with the sleeves of his black hoodie, and pulled them up to his elbows, then crossed his arms across his chest. You swallowed at the sight of how veiny his forearms looked.

"D'you think that we could talk about the ground rules later?" you asked sheepishly.

Seokmin couldn't help but notice the way you inclined towards him slightly. And you couldn't help but notice him swallow hard. "What do you want to do?"

"I really want you to kiss me again," you mumbled, feeling something rouse within you.

His eyes twinkled with excitement. "Oh, yeah?" he hummed.

He seemed as if he were waiting for you to say something inviting, you noticed the moment he smiled when you nodded a bit too eagerly with your head.

He lifted his hands to grab you by the sides of your head. "C'mere," he whispered, his lips quickly finding yours in a soft kiss.

You felt his breath on your neck as he pulled away slightly. "Again?" you sighed.

His mouth was smiling as his lips found yours again, and as the soft kisses turned more demanding, you couldn't ignore how your body responded.

This felt different from the make out session of the night prior. It was entirely carnal, at least, Seokmin kissed you with more eagerness, unafraid of being seen and judged. You heard his breath catch in a gasp and his lips smack. You both were not acting.

You broke away from him, all thoughts in your head quieted down when in a sudden movement, you moved in the couch to sit on his lap, straddling him. Seokmin said nothing either, and you silently thanked him, as his hands returned to the sides of your face to kiss you deeply.

The sizzling feeling at the lower pit of your stomach, the warmth all over your skin when one of his hands slipped from your face to the back of your head and fisted your hair softly, sending chills down your spine and making you moan in response.

"Yeah, I thought you liked that last night," Seokmin mumbled gruffly.

"Shut up," you smiled.

"Make me," he whispered back.

You leaned in to kiss him again, a rush of adrenaline filled you as his hands that were on the sides of your head moved to your back to press your body against his. Fingertips trailed softly on the sides of his neck, you felt him shudder as you made your way to his collarbones where you shyly touched his skin like never before.

Seokmin left a trail of kisses from your lips, to your jaw and ended on your neck. You gasped when he found a sweet spot effortlessly, and made something flutter in your stomach. Hearing your reaction, Seokmin sucked on the spot gently, eliciting a moan from you.

It had been a while since you felt like this. Even with your ex, you felt that the last few times you were together like this were more of a obligatory act from both of you.

So, being close to Seokmin like this was like unearthing feelings that your body had long forgotten. And it was really hard to control.

You let your hips sit fully on his lap and started grinding on him suggestively. Seokmin groaned in your mouth and broke away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sounded raspy.

"Oh, fuck—sorry. You don't like that?" you whimpered and made a gesture to move out of his lap.

But Seokmin grabbed you tightly to his body effortlessly, since his hands were still on your back. "No, it's not that," he put in briefly.

You stared at him, puzzled. "What is it then?"

"What do you want?" he countered.

He watched you swallow hard. "I want you," you muttered, hoping that the emphasis you put in the word was enough for him.

A few strands of hair had stuck to your wet lips, and Seokmin pulled them away with gentle fingers as he asked: "How do you want me?"

You couldn't help but smile. "Don't tease me like that."

Seokmin just shrugged calmly, but his eyes were burning with lust. "I won't do anything unless you tell me."

You planted a soft kiss on his jaw, then one on his lower lip. "I want you to fuck me, Seokmin," you whispered into his lips.

He reciprocated the slow, wet kiss. And groaned again when you grinded your hips one more time. "I didn't bring any condoms," he mumbled.

"Really?" your voice sounded obnoxiously high.

"I just came here to talk," Seokmin laughed. "It never crossed my mind that we'd fuck."

"Really?"

"Really. I didn't think you'd be this needy," he started laughing when you landed a playful smack to one of his shoulders.

You rolled your eyes at him. "I'm on the pill."

His hand grabbed your chin and he pulled away to look at you in the eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

You both understood what this meant for your friendship. Seokmin didn't seem concerned at all about you being on his lap, or that you were practically begging him to fuck you right there and then. He seemed willing, but like the good gentleman he was, he needed you to say what you wanted.

You nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Seokmin's lips parted briefly as he scanned your face with his eyes one last time. "Fuck," he groaned, and pulled you to his mouth again.

Your lips latched onto his, hungrily, teeth grazing, tongues clashing. You could feel the wetness from his saliva beneath your mouth as the kiss turned sloppy and more fervent.

His hands casually made their way from your back to your hips, where they rested comfortably before giving you a gentle squeeze.

"Take these off," he murmured in your lips, his fingers pinched at the fabric of your jeans.

You stood from his lap to take your jeans off, aware that Seokmin had his eyes on you. He rest his head on the back of the sofa, his hungry eyes watched your body up and down. His hand grabbed yours and tugged you his way to gesture you to straddle him again.

Your lips explore his neck, licking the spot below his ear, and he breathed out a moan. His fingertips dug slightly on your hips, and then he cupped your ass when you left wet kisses and sucked in the spot again.

Seokmin pressed your body back and forth, rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard cock. You moaned and hid your face in the crook of his neck and grinded some more on him.

"Let me see you," he muttered in your ear.

Your lips searched his tentatively, kissing him with haste as his hands moved from your backside to underneath your top. You broke the kiss again, and let him remove your shirt entirely.

Seokmin revelled at the sight of your half naked body, his fingers trailing softly from your collarbone, to your sternum, all the way to your bellybutton.

"Pretty," he mumbled when his fingers tugged at the band of your pink panties.

He looked at you, as if asking for permission. But he quietly trailed his fingers to your clothed core, and there he found that your panties were already soaked. You could feel yourself grow more aroused at the mere act of him feeling you without breaking eye contact.

You shuddered a sigh when he pushed the soaked fabric aside and had to bite your lip from moaning loudly when his fingers found your wet core.

Seokmin sighed. "You're so fucking wet," he smiled softly.

"God, Seokmin–," you breathed and your eyes fluttered close when he slowly moved one of his fingers inside you. And then, he pushed another finger in.

He bent his head and planted a kiss on your shoulder. "Ride my hand, baby," he said hoarsely.

A shiver went down your spine at hearing what Seokmin called you. You started moving on his hand almost immediately grinding on his fingers the same way you had done on his lap.

Your forehead found his, a tingling sensation travelled your body when you his breath caressed your face. "Seokmin."

His lips were formed into a smile when he pressed his lips on yours in a chaste kiss. "Mmyeah, that's my name, baby."

His other hand unclasped your bra expertly, and you helped him with the straps and threw it somewhere on the floor. You felt his breath on your skin and your nipples grow hard.

It was almost embarrassing to you to hear the squelching sounds you were making against the hand between your legs. But you could barely pay some thoughts to it, all you could think of was the way he moved his hands on your body. And that you wanted more.

He rubbed his thumb around your nipples, and you watch him do it, watched the hand buried in your pussy as you grinded on him, close to your release. Then, his hand rested on your neck for a bit and you shuddered when his thumb caressed your skin and curved around your throat.

"You like them?" he asked peering at your face. "My hands? I've seen the way you look at them."

"Yeah," you breathed. "I wondered what they would look like on me."

"Oh, yeah?" he smiled. Then pulled out his fingers from your core, just about when you were about to cum. You blinked at him, confused.

"Lie down," he muttered, pointing to the sofa. You did as he said, and moved your back to the sofa, your knees pulled up.

"I knew you'd be bossy," you confessed, feeling hot on your face.

Seokmin's eyebrows raised a bit. "Been thinking about me a lot, huh?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. And then his hands reached up to the collar of his hoodie, he threw it over his body in one swift motion and tossed it aside.

His bare chest was the first thing you saw, it was wide and lean. You also got a good look at his strong thighs when he undid his shorts, and step out of them.

A shiver shot up inside you when you saw the outline of his hard cock pressing against the tight fabric of his black underwear.

His toned arms as they came to the sides of your head to lean and kiss you fervently. "Stop looking at me like that," he groaned softly in your mouth.

He placed his knees on the sofa and patted you on one of your knees gently. "Spread your legs for me," he placed himself in between your legs as soon as you did what he ordered.

Seokmin left a trail of open mouthed kisses from your neck, to your collarbones as he palmed and squeezed your breasts with his hands. Your fingers tangled in his soft hair and moaned his name again when he sucked one of your nipples gently as his fingers pinched the other one.

He stood on his knees, hooking his fingers on your panties and dragged them along your legs, and dropped them to the side of the sofa.

Seokmin held your legs with his hands, as he placed kisses on the inner side of your thighs, sucking and licking softly on your skin. He gave you a glance one time before lowering his mouth to your core.

A whine reverberated on your chest quite loudly as your back arched almost involuntarily. Feeling his tongue lapping on your core, licking almost hungrily but patiently too, as if he wanted to take his time pleasuring you.

Seokmin revelled in your taste, in the sounds you made. He groaned when your fingers tugged at his soft hair again, he groaned when you whimpered his name as you neared your orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered with eyes shut. Just as when you thought you couldn't feel any closer, Seokmin slid his two fingers inside you, pumping in and out. Your hips rutted desperately against his face and he was quick to hold them down with his free hand.

"Be still," he said softly, before dipping his head down on you again.

"Sorry," you replied breathlessly.

He hummed in response, and you could tell that he was amused at the desperate mess he made of you. But all you could think of was his mouth on your clit, as he had quickly found out how you liked to be stimulated, eliciting moans and half pleas.

You heard him moan with you when you reached your climax, as if he enjoyed the noises that you made, along with his name. Seokmin pulled his fingers out and placed sweet kisses on your clit.

You watched him lick his lips and fingers clean, and you could see that the tip of his nose was slightly wet with your arousal, making you grin at the sight of it. You cleaned it with your fingers as you brought his mouth to yours to kiss him fiercely.

"You taste so good," he muttered lazily on your lips and you could taste yourself in them.

You started tugging at the band of his underwear, pulling it down as best as the position of your bodies let you. Seokmin sighed, and you noticed that he was smiling.

"Be patient," he groaned, his demeanour seemed elated still. But he stood up from the sofa, and quickly got rid of his underwear, revealing his large cock.

You gulped almost involuntarily. "You have a pretty cock," you mumbled once he was between your legs again.

That took him off guard. He gave you a breathy chuckle. "Well, that's a first," he confessed.

Yeah, you were quite sure he didn't get the word 'pretty' as often as 'big'.

He gave you a small peck on your lips, pulling you out of your trance. "You're ready?" he asked.

You winced in anticipation the moment you felt his cockhead align with your entrance. Your fingers cradled his face as he watched you nod.

"I need to hear you, baby," he crooned, placing another sweet kiss on your lip.

"I'm ready."

He held one of your legs angled for him as he eased himself inside you painfully slow. You grabbed at his shoulders, letting your fingertips dig at his skin.

"F-fuck," you whispered, releasing the air that caught between your teeth and Seokmin sighed deeply too as he stretched your pussy slowly.

It had been a while since you last had sex, so the feeling of having someone, let alone someone as big as Seokmin took a bit more from you than expected.

"Good girl," he muttered through gritted teeth when your hips met fully. You felt your walls flutter a bit around his cock, easing from the sting at having him stretch you open.

His eyes searched your face briefly, but wasted no time and started moving slowly and with shallow thrusts until you both adjusted to each other's bodies. Then he effortlessly picked up his pace and his thrusts started coming and going deeply inside you.

He kissed your moans with wet lips and released your leg from his grip. "Wrap your legs around me," you did as he said, also wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed your lips again.

His hands buried in your hair, closing in a tight first and his forehead leaned on yours. "You feel so fucking good, baby," he gritted his teeth. His hips buckled once before taking a faster and harder pace on you.

"Fuck! Right there," you moaned on his mouth. And gripped him tighter with you hands.

The grip on your hair tightened and he turned your head to the side slightly to make way for his lips on your neck where he had found a sweet spot.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself on the reflection of the tv screen. You hadn't noticed it before when you were so busy staring at Seokmin, but now, you could see your face wild with lust, and your body entangled with Seokmin's; as his hips rammed against yours.

You almost fell in love at the image of him fucking you, passionately, hard and fast. Just seeing your bodies melted like this made your body quiver almost sending you to the edge.

He lifted his head and found you staring at both your reflections, he smiled at you and cooed. "Look at you, so flustered and pretty."

His thrusts quickened, but they didn't relent on their depth. And it was exactly what you needed. Your hands travelled down his back and dug your nails in his ass, earning a throaty moan from the man above you.

You were panting, feeling all sanity lip out your mind and you could hear yourself call his name in whispers, but couldn't make out another word.

Soft, wet kisses trailed down your neck to your mouth as the lewd noises you made filled the room.

"Are you going to cum again, baby?"

"'m so close," you whimpered. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling as you reached your second orgasm.

"Look at me, baby," you heard him whisper and opened your eyes to find his.

"God. Seokmin. Don't stop, please," you cried as your body trembled with hot waves of pleasure.

A long moan escaped your mouth but was quickly supressed by a wet kiss. "I know baby," he whispered as you came on his cock, whimpering and twitching uncontrollably under his body.

Then he sat back down on his knees, grabbing you by your hips with a tight grip, and the change in position made you moan lazily. You didn't think you could keep going, but the sight of Seokmin's face riddled with pleasure made want to chase after a third orgasm.

Seokmin threw his head back before letting out a deep moan with his eyelids shut, his lips parted and twitching slightly once. You could feel your body tremble again at the thought of his cum inside you, and moaned at the same time he did, his thrusts on you not relenting until your cream started dripping at the base of his cock, mixing with his cum.

As his hips came to a stop on top of you, he glanced down to where your bodies remained connected and sighed in pleasure at the sight.

You also could feel yourself get lost at the sight of him for a bit. His heavy breathing made his chest and shoulders move up and down in a languid manner, a light layer of sweat covered his neck and collarbones.

He moved to rest his head on your chest for a moment, without saying a word. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, as you could feel his own heart stuttering against your body.

His forehead also glistened with seat, his hot breath caressed your breasts and even though you could see his relaxed features, you noticed that he was lost in thought.

You pushed his wet bangs from his face, drawing his attention to you. "We're still friends, right?" you asked jokingly.

His lips rose in a lazy smile and nodded. "Still friends."

♡︎ Final notes: I haven't posted fanfic for years sooo... well, if you liked it please show it some love, a reblog or leave a comment, i'm all eyes. click here for part 2 ( · ❛ ֊ ❛)

[undercoveravenger]

Intoxication

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.

Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.

But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.

“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”

Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”

You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”

It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop. 

“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.

“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.

“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”

Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”

A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd. 

“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask. 

Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.

Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.

“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.” 

You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”

Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.”

His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. 

You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”

Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"

Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.

You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room. 

"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."

Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."

You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then- 

Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him." 

You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.

The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.

“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.” 

With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”

A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.

Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to. 

“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”

When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date. 

Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house. 

Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 23)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence more generally.

Part 23 -

I hurriedly changed into jeans and a t-shirt, pulling on my hoodie and a baseball cap. My feet were relieved to be in sneakers again as I gathered up the cardboard box I had set by for this part of my operation. I assembled and taped it, sticking the address on the top. Then I hurried down to the 24 hour internet café and printed off a false FedEx invoice for the property opposite my target, before hailing a cab and riding it to Fiskin Avenue. I had my handgun stashed in my beltline, but it didn't do much to alleviate my anxiety at how badly wrong everything could go in a matter of seconds. The crushing weight of what I had to achieve was terrfying as I stood in front of the open door to the old building, my heart was in my throat and I felt like I was going to throw up I was so scared.

I stepped inside and walked as confidently as I could into the offices, just like the guy I'd threatened for information had said. There was no one inside to my absolute joy, and it was stupidly easy to get into the room with two desktop PCs inside. I could tell Alexe wasn't anywhere near as powerful as the major players in the city -The ones like Maroni. If he was, there would have been some security. It was becoming so clear that there was a new-money arrogance to Alexe, and a self-assurance that no one could take him on.

I had hoped that I would be able to copy some of the files to a USB stick or CD, but quickly realised my terrible oversight. Of course the computers were password protected. After trying the obvious things like 'password1234', I began to panic. Instead I hurriedly crouched beneath the desk and decided to take the part itself.

I popped out the side panel of the first tower and disconnected the wires to the DVD drive which sat in front of the part I needed to access. I unclipped it and removed it with trembling hands. Then I slid off the cover and connectors to dislodge the hard drive and withdrew it. I stuffed it inside the cardboard box.

It didn't take to long to slot everything else back into the right slots and clip the cover back on. I moved on to fhe second one, expecting to be discovered any minute. As soon as I had the second drive and the computer towers were back together, I realised another potential hitch in my plan. If they tried to use the computers and realised the drives were gone before the raid, someone might get wise to the fact there was more going on. What if they tried to get rid of the girls or move them on? There was a rising lump in my throat as I considered this.

I decided to try and buy time in case anyone did attempt to log on by deliberately turning off the power at the wall and cutting into the cables. I did my best to make it look like a rat had chewed into them. Then I turned the power back on and stood up with the closed package in my hand.

I cautiously slipped back out of the room, closing the door behind me and heading for the entrance hall. I was about five paces from it when a voice called out.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

For a moment I considered running but knew doing so would arouse suspicions and lead to a chase. No, the best thing to do was act calm and unassuming. I turned around smiling. I'd make them attribute it to stupidity rather than malice.

"Ah, sorry. I got this parcel to deliver and I got the wrong address. Which side is 37?"

The burly man approached, looking skeptical.

"Here look," I said, placing the package on the desk and fumbling in my pocket to withdraw the fake invoice.

I held it out and he snatched it from my grasp, scanning over it. His prickly demeaour dropped by a fraction as he handed it back and held open the door so that I could exit onto the street.

"It's the opposite side of the street," he said, with a look that clearly conveyed he thought I was far too dumb for my job.

As I squeezed past, I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust from the insane amount of stress. My legs were like jelly as I walked away but no one ran to stop me. So I just kept walking. One foot in front of the other. I just kept on walking until I had rounded two corners and frantically flagged down a taxi.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

I laughed in giddy shock as soon as I made it back into the safety of my hotel room, locked the door and jammed the chair under the handle again. Immediately I flicked on the TV to try and drown out the sound of someone's music coming from the room above me and people shouting down the hall. I flopped down onto the bed, kicked off my shoes and pulled my spoils - the hardrives - out of the box, turning them over in my hands for a while in disbelief. It felt like a dream. I truly expected to get caught... I had been extremely lucky so far. I would be dropping one off at the DA's office, and one at a location only Renée Montoya would know to collect it from. If the DA had a copy, and her, then it was more likely this couldn't be swept under the rug again, and after what was still to come, I'd make sure peoples' eyes were on them all.

I sighed as whatever cheesy nineties sitcom was running on the TV. I was watching, but not really taking it in. I just had to hope and pray that the Ibanescus didn't realise what had been taken from them, and who by. One of them had seen me, afterall, and if someone tried to access the computers, they would soon be able to see what had happened. Everything was about timing. Only some of it could be controlled...

I laughed a little to myself, thinking life is rather like that. Timing. Always sbout timing...

Missing the bus could put you in the path of an oncoming car, or a lover... make your day, or break it. How long did any of us have left? Who should be counting the seconds? How late is too late?

Time is a great healer, or so they say. It's also a thief. It waits for no one. It's the most valuable thing a man can spend - and once lost, never found again. If you waste time, time wastes you. What's the secret to all good comedy? Timing; without it, your jokes won't land. Time was not on my side, but it also wasn't against me. I had to hope I could pull it off, that was all I could do. Blindly, if I had to.

Again I sighed and laid back on the bed. I was exhausted and whether I liked it or not, I would need enough sleep to stay sharp for the grand finalé of my plan. I had several hours to kill, so I might as well try to rest, however paranoid I felt that the Ibanescus, J, or even the cops, were after me...

I curled my body up into a foetal position with the hardrives clutched to my chest and a knife beneath the pillow. Exhaustion would take me into my subconscious, but danger still loomed over me. Before I knew whqt was happening, I was falling. Like Alice down the rabbit hole.

I found myself in a desolate place. A decimated landscape. It was all mud as far as the eye could see, the only breaks in the horizon were the bark stripped poles of blasted trees. The sky was as red as a wound while I struggled through the mud. Across duck boards and around great tangled spools of barbed wire, until I came to a dug out - a scar in the ground. Seeing a ladder, I clambered down, slipping and falling from the fourth rung into yet more mud. It covered everything. A reddish clay, caked on every surface.

The angry sky began to pour rain down over me in a torrent of misery and I wandered the maze of trenches stretching out in front of me. I was ankle deep in water. Still I saw no one. Suddenly, ear splittingly loud, the sound of machine gunfire hit me like a wave. The ground rocked beneath my feet and the air cracked with the sound of shells exploding nearby.

Terrified, I squated and threw my arms over my head. The most primeval part of me was scared, scared like an animal. Scared like I wanted to find some cave to crawl into. Still I saw no one. No evidence of the war that was apparently raging around me. A warzone where the soldiers where absent. With renewed terror I ran, darting round corners, over sandbags, splashing the mud further up my legs.

In the sly way that dreams do, everything suddenly changed. I found myself in a totally different place and was slow to notice. Accepting it as normal. Before me now was a towering staircase. The room was dimly lit, but I could make out that it was at least five flights. The steps were narrow and supported by old metal girders and ornate railings, spiralling into delicate designs. I felt that something was at my heels and lurched forward, scrambling up the steps, at times on my hands and knees, as I stumbled, my limbs still slick with wet mud.

As I finally made it to the top floor, the crispness of the cold nighttime air hit me. It was a kind of clocktower, I could tell from the enormous shadowy husks of the bells, metal giants compared to me. I skirted around them towards the clockface. The clicking of the internal mechanisms and the movement of the hands was incredibly loud and I paused for a moment in the glow of the enormous round pool of light it cast. How strange it was to be stood on the wrong side of time like this.

Jarringly, with a fluttering of heavy fabric, a large figure dropped from somewhere above me down to my level. He landed with a thud on the wooden platform. A cloak as dark as the shadows around him splayed out like a black ink blot. As he drew himself up to full height I cried out in startled fear. He rushed forward which only made my terror rise. I scrambled away from him, not wanting to turn my back. I was going too fast. Before I knew what was happening I had crashed through the glass face of the clock tower.

As my body ruptured the glass, I tried to throw myself forwards, somehow managing to grab ahold of the balcony stonework of the floor immediately below. The wind whipped at me as I dangled over a drop into oblivion. The city cars crawled like ants below me and I screamed as terror overcame me.

My limbs trembled as I clung desperately to the ledge, the rough grit of the stone scoring into the skin of my fingers and palms. My feet scrambled for purchase against the sheer face of the tower and I desperately tried not to let my right shoulder drop over the edge; I was propped up at the elbow and through sheer force of will beginning to drag myself up, up and over. If I could get enough of my torso back inside, I could make it. I cried out with the exertion and the pain in my arm as the muscles strained in protest.

As suddenly as the mysterious batman had dropped into the picture, he had semmingly vanished again. Dissipated like mist over the river.

Now I could make out a different silhouette. Of course, it was him. I couldn't run away this time. There he stood, in his purple pinstriped dress pants and blue shirt, looking even more dishevelled than he usually did, with his trouser braces hanging loose at his side and his tie undone and flapping in the wind. His tangled, green-tinted hair waved around him as he started directly at me, eyes peering out of the all-too-familar black circles.

"Help me!" I called out in total desperation.

He slowly advanced, as thunder rumbled around the black sky, briefly silencing the ever present noise of Gotham city. He knelt down about a pace in front of me, and I clawed at the air, aiming for his outstretched hand. Drenched in the rain and mud, I was a wretched creature. Like Adam reaching out for the hand of God. Like Victor Frankenstein's creation, seeking his guiding hand.

"Please-" I begged.

I had no strength to say anything else. Another flash of white lightning illuminated his face as he remained just out of reach. His expression turned my stomach. It was stoic, callous even. I redoubled my efforts to save myself at the sight of his dead eyes. Suddenly his hand closed around my wrist, and he pulled a little, offering me just a little additional strength. A spark of hope. I began to rise a little further towards salvation, so close to the point of safety. I pushed harder, thinking I could get up and over to safety.

My eyes met his, hoping to see something kinder in them this time. Instead, I was met with a faint glimmer of sadistic amusement and I noted the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. I watched in despair as a real grin joined the permanent red smile.

I knew then. I was wrong to think he would help me.

His arm which had been pulling upwards, slowly stopped, leaving me dangling, watching my struggle. He was enjoying it. I knew what was coming and there was nothing I could do stop it. He was like a cat toying with a mouse. His grip began to loosen. I stopped struggling. I didn't scream. A hint of disappointment flashed in his eyes at my attempts not to give him what he wanted. I was spoiling the sadistic satisfaction he was withdrawing from the moment. He looked down at me again, this time with the same disappointment that a child might regard a broken toy with.

Then he let me go. I began to fall. Time seemed to slow almost to a stop as I lurched down, watching him silently as I did. He began to laugh. Even as I fell, and couldn't see him anymore, it was like it followed me. It was so loud. Ringing in my ears. Poking its way into my brain.

Tag List

If I forgot anyone or you want to be removed from the tag list - please let me know! 💕

@dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd

@dance-like-a-clown

@furisodespirit

@heath-ledger-jokers-wife

@sunfyrejoker

@lightsabergirl

@clowning--around

@ruby-da-archangel

@harleenqvinn

@helchronicles

@ostricx

@knoepfl

@vampiiriic

@jumpingjellyfishhaha

@nicklet94

@torossosebs

@all-bi-myselfs-blog

@myassisasolarsystem

@secondminkoq

@mikuley

@robin-the-enby

MASTERLIST CONTINUED II ⬇️

Dividers by @strangergraphics