#sorry for the sarcasm but i forgot to mention that i think that they are meant to just accept that they are on separate paths is also a dum

[fandoms-x-reader]

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

-

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

[grahamcarmen]

carmen's team red seeing carmen being upset that she doesn't get to be with gray

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

It’s the last day of school before Christmas, and the first thing Eddie hears when he enters Family Video is Steve Harrington saying, “Fuck this,” which seems kinda unreasonable; he’s not even done anything yet.

But then Steve continues, his voice turning distant as he heads to the back of the store—“I don’t care what the goddamn handbook says, the radiator’s goin’ on full blast,”—and Eddie realises he hasn’t actually been noticed at all.

Not by Steve, at least. 

Robin Buckley is standing by the computer. She’s checking her watch; Eddie can see the thought cross her mind, that he should’ve been out of class over an hour ago, like she was.

All of a sudden, he feels uncomfortably aware of what he must look like: drenched from the rain, dripping water onto the carpet. 

“Hey, Munson. O’Donnell got you working overtime, huh?”

Eddie fakes a laugh. He doesn’t know Robin that much—but still just well enough to know she doesn’t mean anything by it.

So he nods and rolls his eyes, concocts a story about an unjust detention; he even embellishes it with a pinch of truth as he brings the video tapes out from the shelter of his jacket. Says that his last-ditch attempt at improving his grade before the holidays was offering to return the videos O’Donnell rented for her classes.

He doesn’t mention the fact that he stayed behind voluntarily. That he spent all that time staring down at a perpetually unfinished essay, gripping his pen with an all too familiar desperation. That kind of honesty somehow feels more embarrassing than lying; it always has.

Robin takes the videos from him. “Okay, tell me if that works,” she says, with a hint of sarcasm; she’s joking, Eddie reminds himself, but not in a mean way. “Because I’d be returning, like, so many library books if…”

She trails off with a frown, eyes on the computer screen. Glances to the stack of video tapes before punching in something.

Eddie doesn’t mind the wait; it’s only now that he’s really appreciating just how cold he is. He shakes some water off his jacket sleeve, fingers numb, and realises too late that he’s creating a puddle on the floor. 

“Uh, sorry for, um. Dripping,” he says awkwardly, but Robin doesn’t seem to hear him; she just keeps frantically tapping on the keyboard.

Outside, the wind picks up even more, throwing rain against the windows. 

There’s the creak of a door swinging open somewhere in the back, followed by a voice calling, “What’s up?”

Eddie startles—he almost forgot that it wasn’t just him and Robin in here. He watches Steve sidle up to the register.

“It’s this stupid—“ Robin gestures to the computer with frustration. “It keeps going all, you know, aaaah.” She draws out the sound, wiggling her fingers.

Surprisingly, Steve catches Eddie’s eye with a wry look. “Technical term,” he says, deadpan.

If Eddie didn’t know that he was the only other person in the room, he’d think that surely he’d been mistaken for someone else.

Not that he thinks Steve would ignore him outright; it’s just that they’ve not got much history—no fleeting camaraderie forged from sitting next to one another in class. Sure, they crossed paths as much as anyone did in Hawkins, Steve a recurring figure in Eddie’s peripheral; he knew of his existence, obviously, it’s Steve Harrington, but nothing more than…

A collage of all the times Steve’s picture has appeared in the school newspaper flickers through Eddie’s mind. Okay, but that was because of The Tigers, and the swimming team, and—anyone would’ve noticed that—

His justification is brought to a halt at a particularly fierce howl of wind; Robin flinches so badly that she knocks the video tapes onto the floor. 

“Just the wind,” Steve says quietly.

As he speaks, he gently nudges Robin out of the way with his hip. Picks up the fallen tapes.

And to anyone else, it might seem kind—and nothing more. 

But there’s something almost imperceptible in the way Steve does it, Eddie can’t get away from that fact: a meaning behind the words that he can’t grasp.

Then he hears Wayne’s voice in his head—son, you know fine well when something’s none of your damn business—and tells his curiosity to quit it.

“Sorry, it’s still not working,” Robin says, giving the computer one last thump. “I can, um, write you a receipt? To prove you returned them? So O’Donnell doesn’t get all…”

Eddie nods. “Sure.”

Robin gets a pen out of her shirt pocket and writes a receipt, triple-checking the movie titles as she does so.

Eddie thanks her as she hands over the paper. Catches himself hesitating. 

There it is: the familiar prickle of discomfort, not knowing what else to say. Jesus Christ, isn’t that a failure on its own? Another year at school, and you’d think he’d be somewhat closer to other students, just from the sheer amount of time they’ve spent together in the same four walls. And yet, he’s starting to feel more distant than ever.

Granted, there’s Hellfire, but on bad days even that chafes, not that he’d ever admit it. Like he’s playing a part far bigger than who he actually is.

Eddie expects to just walk out without another word being said. In fact, he’s bracing himself for the cold again, almost at the door, when Steve inexplicably speaks up.

“Are you actually leaving?”

Eddie turns around. Steve’s leaning by the desk with his arms folded, looking at him expectantly.

Eddie’s half-convinced there’s a joke he’s not getting.

“Uh, yeah?” he says. He tries to ensure that ‘what the fuck else am I supposed to do?’ goes unheard, but from the way Steve’s eyebrows rise, he doesn’t think he succeeds. 

Steve gives a pointed, dubious look outside. “Dude, you wanna drown out there?”

Eddie rocks back on his heels. There’d be a time where he would really snap back at that (the first time he flunked out, maybe), but now he’s more caught off-guard. 

So he just glances outside and says, “Ideally, no.”

Steve gives a slight huff of laughter at that, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m just saying, man, I’m not gonna be driving till it clears up. Thought I was gonna need a canoe just to get into the parking lot.” He turns to Robin as if looking for agreement, stacking the tapes Eddie returned as he adds, “I said that when I drove you in, right?”

“I dunno, I’ve had crazier journeys,” Robin says.

Steve rolls his eyes like she’s made a corny joke—but he’s grinning like he just can’t help himself.

Eddie watches with a flicker of amusement rather than irritation, which catches him unawares. If he was honest, he’d felt drained not even a few seconds ago. But seeing Steve and Robin’s back-and-forth sparks an unexpected urge to respond in kind.

“Since when were you the spokesperson for road safety, Harrington?”

Robin snorts.

Steve shrugs. “At least wait until it’s not so brutal out there.”

And what brings Eddie up short is that, despite the dry tone, Steve sounds sincere. It leaves him struggling for an acceptable reply.

Before he can work one out, Steve steps to the side and pushes a swivel chair with his foot, right into Eddie’s path.

Eddie sits down in silent bewilderment.

He braces instinctively for an unbearable awkwardness, but it’s not so bad: Steve and Robin just continue working. It gives him time to try and dry his jacket off, at least, and when that ends up a lost cause, he turns to noticing the background noise in the store.

There’s a TV overhead playing It’s a Wonderful Life; George Bailey and Mary Hatch are about to Charleston right into the swimming pool.

Steve wanders into his eye line, scanning the aisles with a clipboard. Eddie doesn’t actually know how long he’s been there. He’d kinda got caught up in watching the movie. Steve seems to notice that; it’s gone too quick for Eddie to be sure, but his lips might’ve quirked, as if in approval.

“Hey, d’you want me to take your jacket? I’ve got mine and Robin’s on the radiator in the back.”

Eddie does his best not to stare. It’s a habit he’s still not shaken off: waiting for the other shoe to drop when anyone apart from Wayne is so… so…

“Didn’t realise this place was a hotel, Harrington.”

Despite his misgivings, he shrugs off the still damp jacket; Steve’s already stuck his hand out for it.

“Not everyone gets this treatment, Munson. You just haven’t annoyed me yet.”

“Then what am I doing wrong?” Eddie returns flatly. 

This time Steve’s smile is obvious.

“Don’t move my scarf off the radiator!” Robin calls as she wheels a trolley of tapes.

“What do you take me for?” Steve says.

He disappears into the back again, returning empty-handed when the phone rings. He mutters at it before he picks it up, “Yeah, of course you still work,” and it’s not endearing, Eddie tells himself. It’s not.

And no, he isn’t listening in to the phone call. That’d be… that’d be stupid. It’s just that the movie isn’t all that loud, so he can’t help but…

“Hello, Family Video? Oh, hi, Mrs Wilcox, how are… Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.” Steve listens to whatever’s being said on the other end. His eyes find the TV, and then he’s silently mouthing along to George and Mary singing, ‘Buffalo Gals.’ “Oh, are you kidding? No, no, stay inside. It’s not a problem, I can just—yeah, of course. I’ll push it back to after the holidays. Yeah. Yeah, you too. Thanks for calling. Enjoy the movie!”

He hangs up, absentmindedly humming. Eddie quickly looks away.

He notices then that he’s sitting right on the edge of his seat like an idiot. He makes an attempt to sit back—be normal, just be fucking normal—but there’s a rigidity he can’t quite shift, that’s been stuck there probably since middle school, when the cafeteria was full of whispers, did you see the new kid? There, the one with the buzz cut.

“Steve, you off the phone?”

“Yeah. Hey, Rob, if I forget, could you make a note to extend Donna Wilcox’s rental? I’ll do it when we’re back, if the computer’s—”

“Sure, sure. Um, so—”

“Oh, God, what?”

Robin grins, a mixture of sheepish and teasing. Eddie stays put. Has she forgotten he’s here? Should he move? Leave? Yeah, he should leave, they’re not gonna notice… He’ll grab his jacket, slip away; the weather’s not that bad—

“I’ve got something for you to—”

Steve waves his hands in disagreement. “Nope, we said we weren’t doing presents!”

“It’s not really a—my grandma wouldn’t listen, Steve, it’s, like, more of a punishment, honestly, just—just wait there.”

There’s a clatter as Robin rushes off, scattering some more tapes off the trolley. The employee door slams shut behind her.

Steve tsks to himself, but picks up the tapes again. As he bends down, he glances over his shoulder with a brief ‘what can you do?’ sort of expression—which forces Eddie to consider the fact that he hasn’t been forgotten.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He settles for an attempt at nonchalance: sticks a foot out to spin the chair ever so slightly, just side to side, and says, “So, uh, is this job just throwing tapes on the floor?”

“Yeah, we take turns,” Steve says without missing a beat.

He scoops up a tape, twirls it deftly before slotting it into place on the shelf. Eddie should probably find it annoying.

He doesn’t.

In the silence, he tries to lose himself in the movie again, at least a little bit, but he can’t manage it—feels too aware of himself, the creak of the seat as he moves even the tiniest amount, the restless fidgeting that he doesn’t even want to be doing, but knowing that never helps him stop—

“Ta-da!”

Eddie turns in time to see a blur of red; Robin’s just thrown something at Steve, who catches it easily—of course he does, Eddie thinks, but he can’t pretend that the thought comes from a place of resentment, not even inside his own head.

It’s a sweater. Steve unfolds it with a cackling laugh; there’s not a trace of the artificial veneer of high school in the sound.

Unlike you, whispers a nasty inner voice.

Steve’s still laughing. “Robin, this is the best—”

“Shut up, no, it’s so bad.” Robin hoists herself up to sit on the desk. “Grandma did the actual work, all the bits that are messed up are from me—”

“You knitted this?”

Steve beams. Eddie notices that there’s an endearingly crooked tilt to one of his incisors.

And then Steve’s glancing around like he’s checking no-one else has come into the store. He ducks out of view of the windows, but is still very much in Eddie’s view as he throws off his work vest, yanks his shirt up over his head, and…

Eddie suddenly feels like he’s been flung back into the claustrophobic space of the school locker rooms, the dread of changing for phys ed. The voice in his head gets louder: don’t look, don’t look; they’ll know. 

But Steve doesn’t seem to care. He just leaves his shirt in a heap on the floor, wincing overexaggeratedly at the cold, and practically dives into the sweater with a boyish glee.

He laughs again; the sleeves are far too long. “I love it.”

“You do?” Robin says, and while she’s playing up her dubiousness, Eddie can hear how she’s pleased underneath it all.

“Uh, yeah!”

The back of Steve’s hair is ruffled from how eagerly he put the sweater on—but instead of fixing it, he focuses on artfully rolling up his sleeves.

Eddie should look away. Should, at the very least, attempt to appear like he’s zoned out, in a world of his own.

And yet…

Despite everything, he watches Steve Harrington with all the silent, rapt attention he usually reserves for movies.

Moth to a fucking flame, Eddie thinks, resigned.

“Suits me, huh?” Steve says to Robin; he does a stupid little move, one hand on his hip, like he’s on the front cover of a magazine.

“And you’re modest, too.”

“You just don’t know style when you see it.”

Steve’s at the desk now, nudging one of Robin’s feet playfully, before turning round to lean against the corner again. “Hey, Munson, what do you think?”

Eddie finds himself fighting the instinct to reply with something undeservedly cutting. He’d just be trying to cover, anyway, using barbs to conceal what the question makes him feel: something akin to the franticness when confronted in class with a test he hasn’t studied for.

And he looks. Really looks—his heart slowing, the initial panic from the flash of bare skin fading away.

Steve’s right; the sweater does suit him, in all its homemade charm. The shade of red is flattering, brings out his eyes: maroon, if Eddie had to put a name to it, although he suspects that the colour’s actually got nothing to do with it, more the way Steve holds himself—a quiet, certain confidence that’s always been out of Eddie’s reach.

He inwardly gives himself a shake as Steve and Robin keep waiting on his response.

This isn’t school, idiot; they’re not trying to catch you out.

“I’m hardly an expert on high fashion, Harrington,” Eddie says—thinks he just manages to pull off the lazy, unbothered drawl.

“Well, you have a look,” Steve says faux delicately, like he’s being incredibly generous.

Eddie cracks a genuine smile; it sort of weakens the whole aloof thing he’d settled on, but he surprisingly doesn’t care all that much.

“Damned with faint praise.”

Steve scoffs as if to say touché. His gaze catches on something outside, and Eddie wonders if it’s an actual customer, if it’s time for whatever all of this is to stop.

But all Steve does is poke Robin’s foot and add, pointedly singsong, “Rain’s stopped.”

“So?” Robin asks.

“I think it’s in between storms,” Steve says sagely. “Like, we’ve got a little window before more rain hits.”

“Great, Steve, I’ll love waving that opportunity bye.”

Steve tuts. “Rob, I’m saying we should ditch. Come on, it’s been dead all day. We can be home early and warm, it’s, like, single-handedly the best plan I’ve ever had.”

Better than when you won the championship game? Eddie thinks—wisely keeps that strictly to himself, because he’ll admit following Hawkins High’s basketball results on pain of death.

Robin looks torn. “I don’t know, Steve, what if—”

“Who’s gonna tell?” Steve says, gesturing around at the empty store. He nods at Eddie, says sarcastically, “Oh yeah, Eddie Munson, known snitch.”

“You flatter me,” Eddie says. He surprises himself at how easily it slips out, like for once, there was no need to overthink it.

“See? Rob-in,” Steve wheedles, “come on, I’ll cash out. You and your grandma could knit for hours.”

“Shut up,” Robin says fondly. “Fine! Quick, quick, I’ll flip the sign.”

The whole thing resembles a military operation, with how speedily Steve and Robin manage to close the store. Eddie stands up and moves the swivel chair out of the way, but feels almost exposed without it.

Steve’s just finished at the register when he catches Eddie’s eye. He snaps his fingers, “Oh, shit, yeah,” and yells over his shoulder to Robin in the back room, “Hey, pick up Munson’s jacket, too!” Then he’s stuffing a couple of tapes into a backpack. “Want one?”

Eddie blinks, confused. “What?”

Steve wiggles one of the movies in demonstration before zipping up his bag. “I always take some home. As long as you have it back by, uh,” he waves a hand vaguely, “some time in the New Year, whatever.” He clicks his tongue. “Damn it, forgot to turn this off…”

It’s a Wonderful Life falls silent.

Through the whir of it rewinding, Eddie speaks almost without meaning to. “Can I have that one?”

Steve looks up at him in faint surprise. “Sure. Hang on, I’ll just find…”

He ejects the tape and passes it to Eddie. It’s still warm from being played.

And then the case is being handed over, too—there’s scraps of paper folded in the corners, rolls of receipt in Steve and Robin’s handwriting: games of tic-tac-toe and movie recommendations.

As Eddie puts the tape inside, a thought occurs to him. “Wait, uh. Were you gonna take this one home, too?”

Steve’s folding up his discarded shirt and vest. He smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think there was something shy in it.

“Oh, nope. I—” He laughs under his breath. “I have it already.”

The back door bursts open to reveal Robin all wrapped up in a scarf. She throws Eddie his jacket, jangles some keys and imitates Steve’s half-singing when she announces, “I’ll lock up.”

The wind’s thankfully died down so the contrast from inside to the parking lot isn’t terrible—though that’s probably helped by the fact that Eddie’s jacket is warmed right through from the radiator.

As he gets to the van, he expects that Robin and Steve will already be out of the parking lot. But when he slides into the driver’s seat, he sees Robin’s the only one actually inside Steve’s car; Steve’s half-in, half out, one hand on the roof. 

“Safe journey, Munson!”

And maybe it’s just how Steve’s voice is anyway, but it sounds like it’s more than just a platitude. Like it means something.

Eddie honks his horn in reply. He lets Steve drive out first—his car’s parked closer to the road—and absentmindedly drums his fingers on the VHS case in the passenger seat.

This was a fluke, he tells himself. Like a movie being played in last period, the curtains drawn—how it always feels kind of like a dream.

Still, he drives home warm. Thinks in a gentler voice, one that sounds like Wayne—a reminder that not everything is a trap waiting to spring shut on him.

[tojjist]

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

[dxrlingx]

Don't Say You Need Me When, You Leave And You Leave Again.

Gojo x Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, comfort, soft!gojo, small mention of kissing, gn!reader.

Satoru wasn't one to stick around for long, never. He was like a flowing stream of water, never staying in one place. He didn't see or feel the need to entertain a someone for long, he was a busy man. Hell, he's the strongest sorcerer out there for crying out loud, the only reason he even needed to indulge in these actions was to get some form of stress relief from his tiring job, then he was gone as quickly as he arrived.

But now here he was, leaning against your door frame with his arms crossed, that annoyingly handsome smile on his face as he watched you come out of the bathroom, staring at him. He didn't know why he kept coming back to you, you weren't dating, no, even though a small part of him wanted to make things official between you two, he just didn't trust himself enough to let that feeling wash over him, so he kept it hidden and forgot it the best he could. He couldn't understand what made him so attracted to you, why he kept crawling back to you when he got the chance, why you wouldn't leave his mind when he was busy with his missions and why his heartbeat got faster around you, and especially why he missed you so much.

"Missed me?" He asked, his words held his usual mischievous tone, but you didn't fail to recognise the pang of tenderness and sincerity that came along with it. You crossed your own arms, glaring at him from across the moonlit room, his snow white hair glowing in an almost ethereal way as the moonlight fell on it. "Huh, so you finally decided to pay me a visit hm?" You answered back, tone dripping with sarcasm. A part of you held in all the excitement you felt seeing him there, all the atoms in your body urged you to embrace him after having not seen him for months.

"Heh, I don't like that tone." He responded, a hint of playfulness in his voice as he approached you, looking down at your grumpy attire as he chuckled lowly, "Don't be mad at me now, baby.." he continued, his large calloused hand coming up to your cheek as he playfully pinched your soft flesh, laughing lightly in amusement as you swat his hand away, a small huff escaping from your pretty lips he wanted to kiss so, so badly. "Satoru. I'm serious, you think you can just leave for months like that with no context and come back to me whenever you desire? I'm not here for your fucking entertainment."

He felt a tug at his heart strings at your words, he knew it was true, he tended to leave with no context whatsoever, and barely had time to keep in contact with anyone. But it was only him that knew that when he had left you behind, guilt and regret soon washed over him, he couldn't bear it even when he was the strongest, the more he went no contact with you the more he punished himself, but he was too far off now to have the heart to reach out to you, and now here he was. "You've just missed me too much, didn't you?" He whispered. "Don't start satoru." You replied sharply. Satoru chuckled, raising his hands up on either side of his head in a playful manner.

"Hey, look at me, sweets." He said softly, lifting up your chin, his touch as gentle as ever, his blue breathtaking eyes full of love and sincerity. "Stop being mad at me." He said, you were about to open your mouth to respond with another comment, but quickly closed it, "I've missed you." He blurted out, your eyes widened ever so slightly, breath hitching and the angriness within you slowly faded despite your desire to stay mad at him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you like that for so long." He mumbled, one of his hands snaking behind you, his other hand on your chin moving to the back of your head as he embraced you tightly.

"You better be, you jerk.. i swear if you leave like that one more time and have the nerve to come back again I'll already be off with another man." You responded. Satoru's hold slightly tightened around you at your words, he let out a soft chuckle, resting his chin on top of your head. "Then I'll rip him into pieces." He said so casually that you can't tell if he's serious or not. "Don't even think about being with another guy, baby." He continued, he knew he had no right to say that, but it slipped out of his mouth like it was something meant to be said by him, and he let it be, because he felt no need to hide his love for you anymore.

"I missed you... I missed you so much toru." you responded, your sudden confession causing haywire in his heart, he softly caressed your hair, breathing in your familiar scent that he had missed so much. He smiled softly, pleased with your words especially with his nickname coming back to use by you. "I missed you too, more than you realized. I'm so sorry, baby, i promise I'm here now.. forgive me?" He asked, pulling away slightly to see your face, letting out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding in when you nodded your head with a small smile, immediately crashing his lips against yours like he had been craving to.

Maybe Satoru was not the type to stick around, not the type for long term relationships, but he knew that for you he was willing to change all of that about him, because one thing Satoru knew for sure is that he wasn't going to lose you, never.

[spider-stark]

Sweat & Spandex

PETER PARKER X READER

Summary - You tell Peter about an idea you had, he makes it a reality.

Warnings - idk, just poorly written smut about getting fucked by spider-man i think?? mentions of him breaking into ur room? i’m bad at warnings i’m so sorry pls tell me if i should add something here

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

WHEN YOU first approached him with your little idea, Peter hadn't been sure of it.

Actually, to be perfectly honest, when you first decided to swallow your pride and bring it up to him, he immediately began to worry about your well-being; a response that only furthered your pre-existing embarrassment.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" He asked with a nervous chuckle, leaning back against your headboard and jokingly moving his hand to your forehead, pretending to check for a fever. "You sick or something?"

You quickly flopped over onto your stomach, evading his touch as you buried your face into the pillow, trying to hide your mortification. It took every ounce of confidence you had to share the thought with him, and his sarcasm wasn't making it much easier. "I just think it would be nice!"

The innocent wording only made him laugh harder. "Okay, so you think it would be nice if I fucked you as Spider-Man?" Confusion laced his voice, and you only groaned in response, frustrated by his teasing. He continued, "I mean, you're kinda already fucking Spider-Man, right?"

Another cry fell from your lips. "It's different!" You stated matter-of-factly, the words slightly muffled against the cotton fabric of your pillowcase. "I just think you look hot in the suit, alright? Sue me!"

Peter shook his head, amusement still reverberating through his chest. "So it's about the suit?" He knew it was about the suit, but he wasn't quite done teasing you yet. "Men in spandex just really get you off, huh? So I just put the suit on and thats it?"

Silence suddenly swept through the room, an unusual reaction. Peter quirked a brow at you as you lifted your head, just a few inches, but enough that he could see the red-hot blush spreading across your cheeks. "Yeah." You confirmed sheepishly, "And maybe, sorta, ya know—break into my room and fuck me when I'm not expecting it!"

The last bit of your sentence essentially blurred together, the words spilling out of your mouth at a record pace before you shoved your face back down into your cotton refuge.

Peter's jaw dropped, shooting up from his relaxed position as the words registered in his head. "You want me to do what?!"

Luckily for you, the conversation didn't last much longer than that. After a few minutes of relentless teasing, Peter let you off the hook and changed the conversation, letting your humiliation at your admission fade into the background until eventually you forgot all about it.

Peter, however, couldn't forget about it.

Despite his initial reaction of concern and hilarity, he couldn't help but become intrigued by the thought. In the past he had never considered bringing his vigilante identity into the bedroom, yet now the more he thought about it, the more he started to like the thought.

There was a certain thrilling factor to it all, of sneaking into your house and having his way with you as Spider-Man. He liked the concept of not having to be a hero, of not having to do anything but use you in whatever way he wanted—and more than that, he liked that you wanted that too. And so, he eventually decided to take you up on the idea.

Your heart nearly stopped beating as you suddenly collided against your bedroom wall, your hand instinctively reaching for your pocket so you could call Peter, but it was pinned in place before you could even get close.

When you looked towards your wrist you were comforted by the sight of a familiar red fabric covering the strangers fingers, your breathing beginning to even back-out now that you realized who the intruder was. "What the fuck are you doing, Pete?" You asked him gruffly, attempting to pull your hand from his grip. You expected him to let go, but he didn't, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall.

You almost spoke again, almost told him that whatever joke he was playing wasn't funny and to let you go—but then he leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear through the thin material of his mask. "Should've locked your window."

From there, things escalated much faster than you had anticipated. In a matter of minutes the two of you had moved from the wall to the bed, your clothes already discarded on the floor as he mercilessly stripped you down to nothing, likely tearing the fabric as he pulled it from your body.

You had always thought Peter was hot, but seeing him like this? Was downright pornographic.

His hands were rooted on either side of your hips, the mask lifted just above the tip of his nose, his gorgeous dark eyes still covered by the whites of the fabric. His sweet lips were latched to your neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, leaving little bruises in his wake.

"Tell me what you want, baby." It burned as his dug his nails into your flesh, his hips moving painfully slow as his cock pressed up against your already soaked pussy.

He refused to fuck you, not until you asked, and so you desperately tried to move your hips against his, finding some pleasure in the feeling of the tip of his dick rubbing against your clit. "Want me to fuck you?" He asked again, more specific this time, "Want your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to fuck this pretty little pussy?"

You could only whimper in response, nodding along in a state of pure delirium. His grip on your hips tightened enough to leave a bruise, the sensation eliciting a lewd gasp. Peter moved to your ear, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he traveled up your neck. "I asked you a question, sweetheart." He purred.

"Yes!" You cried out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your frustration built. He was holding you in place, refusing to let you move against him, not letting you find the friction you needed to quell the burning feeling building in your stomach.

You'd never experienced this side of Peter before; having gotten used to the slow and passionate version of him that you loved so much. Under the 'guise of his secret identity, though, he seemed to gain an unfamiliar sort of confidence, a roughness he had never unleashed on you before. And you liked it.

"Good girl." Peter praised, and with super-human agility he quickly flipped you over, taking your place against the mattress as he placed you on top of him.

He didn't give you any time to adjust, a single hand sliding down your thighs to forcefully shove your knees further apart, burying his full length inside of you with one swift movement.

You could barely hold up any of your own weight, falling against his chest as pathetic whimpers poured from your mouth as he bounced you up and down on his cock, his hips sloppily meeting yours as he attempted to drive himself even deeper.

"So good," he murmured against slick, salty skin, drunk on the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, "feels so fucking good."

He was definitely gonna do this again.

a/n - this is some seriously poorly written smut that i 100% didn’t proof read and i wrote in like less than half an hour because it popped in my head and just UGh i could definitely make it better, more detailed, etc. but i have better and more important ideas to work on and i don't want this in my drafts so please just take it thank you

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 3)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts (part 4), reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, descriptions of bullying & people being jerks but like also very overdone tropes, mentions of smut

A/N: Please let me know if you liked it!! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to fangirl with me over these two because I cannot stand them at this point. LOL Or if you want to share any ideas/predictions for upcoming parts with me or other ideas for future stories with Eddie, I would love to hear them. Also, if I forgot to include a warning that should be included, please let me know!

Series Masterlist

“Eddie.” 

“Hey, Eddie.” 

“Earth to Eddie.”

“EDDIE.” 

“Shit! Sorry,” he says, breaking out of his thoughts and coming back to reality. He stares at his notes in his DM folder and he literally has no idea where the campaign has left off. He clears his throat and awkwardly flips through the pages. “Umm..”

“We just made it to the fishing town and we were tasked by a local merchant to kill a sea serpent that’s poisoning the local fish in exchange for..”

“Oh yeah,” he interjects, grabbing the correct script he needs to continue. “Uh, did you roll..?”

“Are you kidding me, man! What the hell?” Gareth exclaims, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you today?” 

Eddie’s face turns pink, shaking his head and ignoring the question. He was not going to admit to being distracted. He’s not embarrassed to talk to the guys about you, but he hasn’t told anyone he signed up for the study. He didn’t want to admit he was desperate or lonely, he’s too proud. He knows his friends don’t care, but it’s a mental block he can’t pass. 

“Nothing, I’m good. Just let it go,” he says defensively. 

“No way. Fucking spill it,” Jeff laughs. 

Eddie racks his mind for the most sane way to answer their questions. He sighs, pushing a mess of his curly hair out of his face. 

“Who is she?” Gareth asks, raising an eyebrow. 

***

DAY FOUR

“I’m mad at you,” Eddie says, and you roll your eyes. 

“What did I do now?” You ask, playful sarcasm evident in your voice. 

“You’re throwing me off my game”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” 

“Obviously because I’m really cool and popular,” he jokes, “I’m a Dungeon Master as you know.” 

“Yup, I’m familiar,” you toy. 

“My friends called my ass out so many times last night for not paying attention and I kept fucking up.” 

“I don’t appreciate you pinning this on me,” you chuckle. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Lies!” He says in a bravado. “You are the distraction! You have managed to weasel your way into every aspect of mind- I hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m probably going to be dethroned. My reign is over.”

You bite your bottom lip, to hold back the goofy smile you know is creeping over your whole face. Never before has anyone made you feel like this. The notebook to keep track of other “dates” is long forgotten. You only want to continue talking to Eddie. You wonder if any of the other people you spoke to felt a connection this strong. You’re dying to know if there are other people who feel as good as you right now. 

“What were you thinking about?” you ask shyly. You can hear the way it makes Eddie stop in his tracks. You assume he wears some sort of chain on his pants cause you can hear it when he paces, but suddenly, his end of the wall falls silent.

“How honest do you want me to be?” he asks, suddenly sounding shy. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I could go the cheesy, romantic, ‘I was thinking about you’ way- which is true. Or, I could be brutally honest because ‘I was thinking about you’ in this context has much more implications than that.” 

“You’re confusing me,” you laugh, “just tell me.”

“Do you ever fantasize about when we get out of here? In like, a you know-”

“Like sexually?” you ask, throwing him a bone. He was drowning. 

“Yeah,” he admits, and you can hear the chain on his pant leg as he fidgets. 

“Yes,” you answer honestly, “I do.”

“I think about it all the time,” he says, the confession spilling out, “The fact that I can’t touch you is driving me fucking insane. It’s not even like just like the thought of getting to fuck you- it’s like being close to you and like feeling your body heat, or like the weight of you sitting on my lap, what it feels like to just touch your skin- just everything that we’re being denied. I don’t even have a visual in my head to go off of it’s just like- I don’t know, man…”

You wince at the mention of sitting on his lap. “I don’t know if you’d want me on your lap for a long time..,” you sound defeated. 

“Um, don’t speak for me,” he cuts you off, playfully. “Any man who doesn’t want the full weight of his woman on his lap is a fucking idiot. Ugh, I don’t even think you understand just how amazing it is. I don’t care if you try to fight me on this, princess. You’re sitting on me, and I will love every second of it.” 

“I’m not thin, Eddie,” you whisper, feeling defeated. You hear him blow a raspberry and then he knocks on the wall. 

“I… don’t… care,” he emphasizes by drawing out each word. “You need to believe me. I couldn’t care less about your weight, your height, your hair… whatever  it is. I like you! And that means I like every part of you.”

His voice begins to raise, like he is yelling up, “If these fuckers would realize we’re done already and let me out.” He then lowers his voice like he’s looking back to the wall. “I want you. The experiment fucking works, I wish I could show you what you do to me cause maybe then it’ll finally stick. I’m going out of my mind that I can’t touch you and show you how much I want you, your body, everything. Do you need me to spell it out?” 

“Would you have still found me attractive if we met outside of this experiment?” you ask, “I bet you wouldn’t have even looked my way if you saw me at a bar or something.”

“Sweetheart,” he coaxes, “absolutely. I know that I would’ve been annoying the shit out of you for your number. You’d have been the one to reject me, I guarantee it.” 

“I would have never,” you reply. 

“So if it’s possible for you to know that you wouldn't have rejected me without seeing me,” Eddie muses, “why can’t you believe the same for me?”

“You haven’t asked me a single thing about my appearance,” he continues, “Do you care how much I weigh? Do you care if I’m short?”

“Not at all. I haven’t thought about it,” you admit. 

“I haven’t either. Now, please let me have my fantasy of you sitting on my lap please,” he whines, “I need something to get me through the day, Christ.” You laugh at his fake annoyance. 

You’re so happy at how he’s able to talk you down. It amazes you how he’s able to see through the insecurities and brings you back down to Earth. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, settling back into the couch and getting comfortable. You rest your head back. 

“I don’t know, basically, we’re in the middle of the campaign- I literally spent weeks writing it,” he continues, “and I literally just can’t stop thinking about how amazing it would be if you were there. I’m just sitting there, thinking about what it would feel like to just have you sitting on my lap while we’re playing and then I’m thinking about how I want to feel lean back on me and I’d have my arm around your waist holding you, and maybe I’d rub little circles on the side of your thigh and I thought about how soft you probably feel and then suddenly I’m sporting the most embarrassing boner which thankfully no one saw- Fuck, this is what you’re doing to me.”

***

“Is there any way to end the trial early?” Eddie asks, sitting in the interview room. There’s a man putting a pulse oximeter on his right index finger and another testing his blood pressure with a monitor on his left side. 

Two other technicians sit across from Eddie, taking notes from Eddie’s answers on a clipboard. They have tested his levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. They’re taking extensive notes on Eddie’s physical reactions to you, and the same is done to all of the candidates- including you. They continue to ignore Eddie’s questions as they ramble on about his levels of oxytocin. 

“In order for us to gather all of the information necessary, this isn’t possible,” one of them finally answers. 

“But I’m telling you how I feel- I’m telling you it works,” he insists. 

“Mr. Muson,” one says, closing a file folder that contains his charts. “This is a study in brain chemistry. You agreed to participate for the designated number of days and in exchange you’d receive compensation. Your conversations between yourself and the other candidates is not our business, nor what you choose to do afterwards. Our job here is to collect data, not the details of your personal life.” 

“I can’t believe this,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He pulls off the oximeter and grabs his jean jacket. He walks out, despite their protests, flipping them off as he goes. He couldn’t care less about the lousy $200. As far as he was concerned, they poked and prodded the two of you enough. 

Of course, he did show up the next day. Promptly with a big grin on his face, he walked in with a happy go-lucky attitude that the entire lab team was secretly sick of dealing with. These sudden outbursts and dramatic tirades were becoming a staple of Eddie’s interviews and they equally couldn’t wait to be done with him. 

***

DAY FIVE

“Are these dice?” You ask with a chuckle, opening the small, black velvet bag that’s been left for you on the table in the room. You empty the bag out into your hand and watch as the dice roll into your palm one at a time. They’re all red and shimmer as you move them around in your cupped hand. 

“Well, I wanted you to have them,” you hear his voice explain from the other side of the wall. You’re beaming as you carefully pour them back into the bag and tie it off. 

“This is so sweet, Eds,” you marvel. “I love them.” 

“I also brought my guitar and like in a non-douchebag way I was kind of hoping to play something for you,” he says, his guitar perched on his lap. “I’ve just been working on this song and I wanted your opinion on it.” 

It's surprisingly soft sounding. You were expecting heavy guitar, something really metal based on what Eddie has told you about his music taste and his band. It’s slower paced, like a dreamy, slow rock ballad. 

You wished you could see him, observe how he looks when he’s concentrating or how his fingers look strumming against the cords. You just know he has the most beautiful hands. You imagine his fingers and try to visualize them flexing as he strums. You’re so distracted by it that you almost miss him singing a verse. 

“It’s not done yet,” he prefaces, still strumming. “I’m still working on the lyrics so don’t think too much about them, just like the meaning and the melody you know?” 

“Yeah totally,” you hum in agreement. “I think it sounds great.” He smiles at the praise. 

***

Before

You anxiously sit by the front window, peeking out between the blinds occasionally. You smooth out the skirt of the new dress your mom bought you, and you make sure your hair is still how you requested. Your mom let you wear makeup and you picked eyeshadow that matches your dress and you feel like a million bucks. It’s your ninth grade formal, and the star of the JV basketball team asked you to be his date. 

The minutes tick by and the time changes from reasonably late to stood up. You still hold out hope, and reject your parents' offers to just drive you to the dance. It’s been 45 minutes now, and you still hoped he’d be there. It was long past an hour that you admitted that he wasn’t coming. 

The following Monday you learned the whole thing was a prank, and he never wanted to ask you to the dance. It’s in the school paper that he’s at the dance, dancing cheek to cheek with one of the cheerleaders, who you can’t help but compare yourself to. 

***

Eddie is sitting at the middle school cafeteria table alone. He’s about a hundred pages into the Hobbit and the crusts of his peanut butter sandwich are forgotten about on the crinkly brown paper bag Uncle Wayne packed his lunch in. He’s long forgotten he’s sitting alone, far too engrossed in the story to care, when suddenly his head is yanked back by someone tugging on his t-shirt. 

“What’s up, Freak?” the voice asks before shoving Eddie back towards the table. He catches himself on the edge before his head comes in contact with the surface. He winces as anger boils up inside him. The three jocks laugh amongst themselves until a familiar voice shoos them away. 

“Sorry about them,” she says apologetically as Eddie looks to see her. Chrissy. He notices how she glances from him to the cafeteria table where the cheerleaders sit, and Eddie knows she doesn’t want to be seen with him for too long. 

“You can go, I’m fine,” Eddie says, forcing a laugh to make her feel better. “But, uh, I wanted to ask you-” 

“Okay, thanks,” she says, cutting him off and practically skipping to sit next to the prick who shoved him. Eddie recoils as the jock’s arm wraps around her. Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to have lunch outside. Along with the remains of his lunch, he shoves the necklace he meant to give her in the bin. He’d stayed up past his bedtime, Wayne showing him how to drill a small hole into the top of one of his guitar picks to put a metal jewelry loop through so it could be put on a silver chain. 

***

You’re sitting at the table in the dimly lit restaurant and sipping on your cocktail when you see him walk in. He matches the description your friend gave you, and you feel yourself smile at how cute he is- definitely living up to the hype. Your friend spent weeks convincing you to go out on this date- one of her boyfriend’s best friends. They’re in the same fraternity. 

You can see as he walks into the dining room, he’s looking around trying to find his date. You offer a smile when he makes eye contact, and you offer a small wave. 

“James?” You ask, “you’re exactly like how Donna described you.” He offers a polite closed lipped smile, and a nod, taking a seat across from you without saying anything. 

As the date continues, you notice you’re doing a lot of the talking. You ask him questions and you’re met with a lot of one word answers. He looks detached, checking his watch and his attention seems to be wandering throughout the restaurant at anything but you. By the time your entrees arrive, he yawns. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something or say something?” you ask, hesitantly.

“No, no you’re good,” he says, straightening his posture like it would correct the behavior he’s been exhibiting. 

He pays for dinner, and you ask if he’d like to do this again sometime (just to be polite, you knew it was going nowhere). He sucks in air from between his teeth, and lets out an exhale. 

“You’re a nice person,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits for the valet to bring his car. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t really my type. Tom didn’t tell me anything about you really. I just felt like we didn’t click.” You notice the way his eyes scan your body, the unspoken awkwardness of you knowing what he isn’t saying. You nod, and say strained goodbyes as he gets in his car. You wished you were more surprised. 

***

Eddie is met with dirty looks when he approaches a girl at the bar. He feels her eyes on his tattoos and on his clothes, judging him. He sees her friend, who's also looking at him, lean in and whisper something and they both laugh. He knows the joke is on him, yet again. 

He opts to hang where he is, leaning against one of the high top tables, when he watches another guy approach her. He’s muscular, of course he is, and Eddie looks down at his own torso in comparison as this guy’s abs strain his shirt. Eddie scoffs, but now feels incredibly insecure at how his own shirt hangs loosely on his figure. 

***

DAY SIX

“Are you still worried about tomorrow?” Eddie asks, playing haphazardly with his rings as he sits with his forearms rested on his thighs. 

“A little,” you admit sheepishly. “Are you?” 

“More excited than nervous,” he replies honestly. “This whole thing has been fucking wild,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Insane,” you agree, laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“I just wanted to ask, no pressure,” Eddie says, clearing his throat, “Uh the other day, when we talked about, you know- what’s gonna happen when we see each other…”

“Yes?”

“You said to not hold back, I don’t remember exactly what it was but along the lines of ‘I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.’ Or something. I just want to make sure…”

“You don’t remember exactly, huh?” you tease. 

“Is that still what you want?” he asks earnestly. 

“Without a doubt,” you smile.

PART 4

TAGLIST

@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @andrearose89 @sosawwycantrelate @animechick555

[akxmee]

★ 03. 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗬𝗘𝗧.

You looked at the man in front of you, processing his offer. Yeah, a little bit of help wouldn't hurt since you had no idea of what to pick for Satoru and Suguru. Since he was a man too, he would know about it right? Besides, it won't take more than five minutes.

"I mean, why not?"

He gave you a nod, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side as he looked at you up and down.

"So..for who might it be? Don't think you're looking for male clothes just for ya', are you?"

"No, they're for my friends."

"Right." He looked at you, then at the clothes you were looking at just before he appeared. "And how are they?"

"Nice, i guess?"

A short pause was made, the black haired man raised an eyebrow as if he didn't understand what you just said.

"..I was refering to the size. Tall, medium, short?"

You reacted immediately, embarrassed of what you had just said. He on the other hand, snickered because of that.

"Oh. Uhm, yeah. They're tall"

"How tall?"

"Really tall."

He hummed, looking through different clothes around. If they were tall, then their clothes would probably be some large size ones. He asked for you to follow him, and you did. This man who you didn't even know his name was actually pretty nice; he was between casual and polite, asking you about your friends and their style even if he mentioned he wasn't really an expert at shopping. Turns out he even had the best wallet-friendly tips and recommendations too, that's a bonus.

When you reached a specific section, his hands moved to grab a pair of hoodies, both of the same brand and in different colours.

"Then this is for you, doll." He motioned to give the clothes to you. "Won't disappoint, trust my word. I use them every now and then."

"Thanks, mr.."

"Call me Fushiguro, no need for formalities. I'm not that much older than you anyways."

He answered, folding the hoodies and helping you to get them into your cart. You thanked him, thanks to Fushiguro you were able to find lots of clothes for the boys to wear for an economic price. He didn't know a lot about combining clothes, but with a little description of satoru and suguru he had been able of making a few outfits each.

The two of you walked through every corner of the store, talking about trivial things while you collected what you thought it was best. Sometimes he corrected you and told you to pick a bigger size since that one wouldn't fit someone tall, and some other times you were the one that corrected him because your friends wouldn't wear something like that even if you paid them to. Of course, jokes were also exchanged between the two of you while the clothes were being chosen. Bad ones enough to make another clients glare at you two, but jokes nonetheless.

This time you spent with him, approximately 20 minutes, was not as awkward as you expected it to be at first. He wasn't really as intimidating as you expected him to be and his sarcasm was kinda funny, so time flew faster than anticipated.

So now you were chatting with him now about some brand he told you about while grabbing the last pair of shoes of the day to put them inside your car when, out of nowhere, a voice calls your name.

"Y/N, where were you?"

You looked behind you, finding Suguru.

Fushiguro smiled.

"So Y/N it is? Cute name."

You looked at him, realizing now that you never even told him your name. How unpolite! He told you his and you forgot something as important as that.

"Ah, yeah it is! Sorry, i didn't even introduce myself properly."

Suguru looked at you, then at the man next to you. He just looked at Suguru with that shit-eating grin still present on his face, placing his hand on your shoulder. Suguru's jaw clenched at this, but smiled nonetheless.

"No worries, doll. Is this one of the 'friends' you were talking about?"

You look at Fushiguro somehow confused because of what he just did, not knowing if it was okay for him to touch you when you met him twenty minutes ago. However, seeing how he is, he doesn't look like the type of man to care about things such as boundaries with strangers so you didn't think too much about it.

"Yeah, that's Suguru. Suguru, meet Fushiguro." The long haired male listened to you as if he was looking for an explanation, so you gave it to him. "He helped me pick some clothes for you both."

"That's right, I was just about to leave anyways." The man shrugged, taking his hand off you. "But I'm glad I made a friend. I'll see you around, yea?"

"Right! Thank you, really. I hope to see you soon!"

Oh, he was sure he would.

And Suguru was too.

And that was bad. Oh, so bad.

But he couldn't tell you, not yet.

So he simply positioned himself next to you peeking at your mini cart where you carried all of the items, pretending like nothing happened.

"Well Y/N, what did you two find for us? Don't be so shy now, tell me.."

"I can't believe you really like those cheap glasses over everything i just bought you."

Satoru just smiled, putting the glasses on and looking at his reflection in the window of the car as he posed and looked at himself from different angles.

"Watch your mouth! They're actually cool. Isn't that right, Suguru?"

The white haired man grinned, his gaze now focused on his friend. He recieved no response for a few seconds, the man was looking intensely through his window. A price tag he just ripped off the glasses was thrown at Suguru, trying to get him off his mind. He scoffed, but replied anyways.

"Sure, they suit you."

His tone wasn't teasing as he expected it to be. It held no emotion, as if his mind was somewhere else. And Satoru knew his best friend too well, so he scooped closer to him even if you protested about the fact that he didn't put his belt on. Then he talked, whispering in order for you not to hear them.

"You good, man?"

Suguru blinked, as if he didn't notice when he got suddenly closer and changed seats. However, he was soon looking at his bestfriend's eyes debating whether to tell him or not.

"I saw him today."

He finally managed to breathe out. There was no need to specify who, since he knew satoru would easily catch up on who he was refering to.

"You mean him, as in him?"

Just as expected.

"Yes."

Suguru expected some shock from him, but Satoru sighed in relief getting confortable in his seat as his body relaxed now that he knew what this was all about.

"Phew, you had me worried over there for a sec. We taught him a lesson last time, what got you all worried now—"

Suguru didn't even let him finish before adding an important factor.

"He was with Y/N."

Oh, that made more sense.

Satoru's breath hitched and he swore his seat never felt more uncomfortable than right now.

This couldn't be happening.

Not so soon at least.

Silence filled the room, a tense atmosphere filling the car's air.

"All good behind boys? You're awfully quiet."

You asked noticing the silence, you weren't dumb enough to ignore it. It was very unlikely to happen, and it always did happen when the two of them were up to something not good. You knew them too well, after all.

"Not at all! How long is it until we get home?"

Satoru asked. You smiled when you heard his voice again, excited as ever. Yeah, they were planning some kind of prank for sure. It had to be, so you better be prepared for when you get home!

It was okay, you knew every hiding spot they had at home in case they decided to call this a prank day. You knew everything about your pets after all.

But maybe you just didn't really know them as much as you claimed to do.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 🌷

—𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: kind of short chapter, idk?? Next one we'll have our boy choso <33 btw, thanks for all the support lately! Love ya 💕

—𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

@kingshitonly @snake-lover-artist-blog @ashers-playpen @pizza-market @channies-bbg-room @pdacex @spindyl @foliea @queen-luna-007 @labelt-san @shiggys-chapstick

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

nex

Summary : You were ordered to kill Rufus Shinra, alas things didn’t go as planned…It could be said that Rufus was the one who got to play with you the way he desired.

Pairing : Rufus Shinra x f! Reader

Word Count : 2.560 words

Warnings : Smut, p in v sex, talking about murder (there is none), RUFUS IS A TEASE 🫠, light choking (sexy), mention of blood (light I think), Dom!Rufus, but a soft one ? (He’s still a fucking tease and control freak but I love him), enemies to lovers kinda ? (But in a quick way), a bit of nipple play, this man embarrasses and praises you at the same time, marking, Rufus cums inside, he plays with your pussy (no fingering), cum licking. Sorry I don’t even know how to TW anymore (please tell me if I forgot anything, thank you🥺).

Author’s Note : This man has me in such a chokehold, it’s not even funny anymore. I don’t even know what this is, sorry if it’s bad, I just got extremely inspired by this man. 🤍 Please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language. Though please tell me if I made errors, that would be lovely. 💞

Divider’s Credits : @/strangergraphics

You were assigned to the murder of president Rufus Shinra. A simple task as they said, nothing you couldn’t handle. You laughed internally at the thought of it. Then how did you end up in this predicament ? Your form pressed up against the glass wall of Rufus’ office, your hands locked behind your back by the blonde man who pushes his body firmly against your back, as your dagger was laying on the ground near your right foot.

« Simple my ass », you muttered under your breath. Rufus was quicker and stronger than they told you, it was so easy for him to manhandle you into this position after you tried to slit his throat that Rufus almost thought that this was a joke as he chuckled against your ear, not in the least unsettled by your « attack ».

« Tsk-Tsk what do we have here hmm ? », Rufus pondered more to himself than to you, his foot pushing aside the blade on the floor, eyeing the weapon for a second before asking.

« Who sent you ? Was it Avalanche ? », his tone was calm and stoic. Another chuckle fell from his lips at your silence, he knew he would break you one way or another, he just had to wait and take his time, and Rufus was well provided with patience.

His hold on your wrists became tighter, not to the point of hurting, more to make you understand the position you were actually in. He had you trapped here, alone with him and you won’t escape this building as easily as you entered.

« Cat got your tongue, precious ? It would be a shame to force my hand and hurt such a pretty thing just to get the answers that I’ll obtain one way or another. »

The first answer that Rufus got wasn’t to his liking. You hit his nose with the back of your head harshly, laughing at the groan that escaped from his lips. You thought that would be enough to break free from his grasp but oh how you were wrong. With his free hand Rufus wiped the blood from his nose, creating a red streak on his cheek and on his black glove. Alas, the grin that Rufus wore didn't diminished in the slightest. He was even more eager to discipline you. His blood-coated fingers delicately went to run from your chin, on the column of your throat that gulped with anticipation and to the base of your neck, stopping there for a moment before tightening his hold on the tender skin of your throat, just enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, a surprised gasp escaping your lips. His breath feels hot on your skin when his mouth comes closer to your ear, his smile evident.

« I’m going to enjoy breaking you, sweetheart. I don’t think you realize what situation you’re in. »

You smiled at the statement, turning your face back just enough to lock gaze with Rufus, the movement barely feasible with Rufus’ grip on your neck. « Care to enlighten me, dear president ? », you asked with apparent sarcasm.

His fingers tighten just a little more on your pretty little throat, just enough to cut some air out of your lungs for a moment.

« Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you. », Rufus threatened in a composed manner, the frown on his face distracting you for a second, as if his blue eyes gazed directly at your soul, two unsettling gems that were watching your every move. You gulped at the feeling, sensing how small you actually were in front of him. Rufus’ smile widened when his hand that squeezed your windpipe felt you gulping. However, even though your smile faded, a defiant smirk still lingered on your pretty face that almost screamed challenge in its eyes. And Rufus couldn’t lie to himself, he was enjoying this, more than he could ever admit.

« You’re a defiant one, aren’t you love ? », Rufus whispered confidently, the hold on your throat easing just a bit. Your face turned back to the glass wall in front of you, but even though you tried to escape his piercing stare, the glass mirrored his reflection temptingly in front of you. You couldn’t escape him and Rufus hasn’t stopped toying with you. You didn’t know how you felt about this, your brain screamed at you that it was wrong, alas the other parts of yourself wanted to let themself be convinced by the blonde man. Still, you tried to resist, tried.

« Stop calling me that. », you tried to sound harsh, wanting to convince him - you, that you weren’t interested, that this man wasn’t interesting, that the warmth that was building in the pit of your stomach was just an illusion. But Rufus easily noticed the light break in your voice, the fragility in which he could penetrate. His hand that rested against your throat was now sliding teasingly towards your collarbones, smearing some of his blood there as well. His tone became softer, coated with honey, toying with your mind and self-restraints.

« You’re not used to being called sweet names ? To be touched like that ? Is that why you came here ? »

You spat back, « Of course not », but still you didn’t move, Rufus noticed. His fingers softly went down, sliding over your cleavage to rest on one of your breasts. His thumb curiously rubbed your hardened nipple, making you let out a strangled whine at the touch and making Rufus chuckle in your ear. At this point you weren’t even fighting back anymore, your hands in his hold grew limps behind your back. Your body unconsciously leaned towards his torso and he hasn’t barely done anything.

« You’re so sensitive, such a sweet angel, aren’t you ? »

The unexpected praise made you blush, making you hide your face away from his prying eyes, to no avail. Rufus took your chin in his free hand, leaving your breasts aching for his touch, and gently turned your face back towards his. His ice-blue gaze and cruel teasing smile made you feel even smaller now. And at this instant, Rufus really debated with himself if getting rid of you was a good idea, he much preferred to take your mouth in his.

The tantalizing idea wasn’t even rational to him, he wasn’t his usual self, you were a threat, he perfectly knew that eventuality. But the president of Shinra Company also found himself completely lost in the way you were unconsciously biting your lip and gazing down at his own mouth. Brushing the rational thoughts aside, Rufus closed the gap between the two of you, a kiss held with such possessive feelings that even himself felt surprised. Hesitantly you kissed back, even though Rufus kept leading the dance during the kiss, biting your lower lip to make you gasp so he could taste your mouth with his tongue. Your neck started aching with the position you were in, Rufus holding your jaw firmly from the back to keep kissing you. His kisses grew lighter as his breathing became heavier and Rufus broke the kiss to breathe against your mouth. As you turned back to face the glass wall in front of you, Rufus let go of your hands so you could brace yourself against the surface.

Rufus got closer to you, towering over you as he pressed himself against your back so tight that Rufus cornered you between him and the transparent wall, your hands on the wall being the only things creating a small gap for you to breathe. Rufus’ body was so close to yours that you could feel his evident boner that he made sure to teasingly rub against your ass while one of his hands gripped your side, firmly holding you in place the way he desired.

« You can be such an obedient angel when you want to. You just need a little…discipline. » Rufus’ free hand started caressing your body deliberately slowly as a way to show you just how much he held your pleasure in the palm of his hand. He possessively held your jaw from behind with the hand that was not tightening on your side, letting his hand slide down the column of your throat that he felt pulsating with need, letting it rest there just to make you guess if he would choke you like earlier or not. To your disliking he didn’t, toying with you as he preferred to let his hand reach your covered breasts once again. At first, Rufus just let his fingers trail over your erect nipples, passing over them without actually touching them or giving them the attention they craved so desperately. Rufus took great delight in hearing you whine his name out loud, a silent plea that made him feel prideful. Two of his fingers started to play with your nipples cruelly by rolling the buds of nerves between them, alternating with fully groping your chest, making you let out a moan of pleasure that you tried to hold back. The bastard perfectly knew what he was doing, Rufus knew how he was affecting you, a grin plastered on his face as he sensed your heavy breathing, the butterflies dancing in your stomach as his hand trailed down between your thighs that were rubbing against each other in anticipation. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, lapping the skin there as his mouth left a few bites here and there, leaving marks for all to see as his hair tickled your sensitive skin.

His black boots nudge your feet apart in order to part your thighs wider, letting him access below your skirt and to his surprise and contentment his fingers already find you oh so perfectly prepared for him. His hands slide between your pussy lips on top of your already drenched panties, the movement creating a lewd wet sound between his fingers as Rufus groans into your ear appreciatively before pressing a kiss under your earlobe.

« Shouldn’t you be ashamed ? Being this wet for the man you were ordered to kill and yet I’m the one that gets to play with you, isn’t this ironic ? », Rufus chuckles darkly.

At the humiliation you try to unwillingly close your thighs around his hand but Rufus is quicker and forces your legs open again, with a tone that requires only one answer from you.

« Do as I say. », and you do, you became so enthralled by the man, that it almost feels instinctive when you execute and open them even wider for him, causing Rufus to reward you with an open-mouth kiss on the cheek, his hand resuming the teasing movements as his fingers rub between your covered puffy wet lips, the lewd sound echoing even more in his office now as you crave for more.

« Good girl, you finally understood who’s in charge here, maybe we can get something out of you after all. »

Rufus gets off on your soft mewling cries as he continue to edge you a bit more, his fingers now drenched in your own arousal as he plays with your pussy in a way that pleases him, as Rufus try fingering you through your panties, letting you feel only the tip of his finger that can’t reach deeper due to the material blocking his movements.

« P-Please Rufus, you’re cruel… », he can hear you whine desperately, as a pleased chuckle escapes from his lips at your already messy state.

« Since you asked like a polite girl… », Rufus drags the sentence as he pulls your panties to your trembling ankles, the material sticking to your cunt in the process as Rufus admires the effect he has on you. His soiled fingerless-gloved hand reaches to your mouth, you understand the silent demand from him immediately as you open your mouth to clean his fingers, your tongue lapping at them as his fingers massage your tongue with your own wetness. When Rufus removes his fingers from your mouth he murmurs sweet nothings in your ear in an appreciative tone. When you think that you’ll finally feel his fingers where you need them the most, you’re surprised to sense him unbuckling his belt behind you, soon followed by his hard cock nudging at your wet entrance, his hand guiding his cock through your folds, coating himself with your arousal.

Your chest starts to heave more and more when you think that he’ll edge you once again and as you were about to whine out loud to make him move, Rufus thrusts the head of his dick inside you slowly but with enough force that it pushes you against the glass wall. When Rufus is finally sheathed to the hilt inside you, his office is silent except for the sound of your labored breaths, Rufus holds you possessively by your hips as his head rests on your shoulder for a moment. Rufus isn’t known for his reassuring presence, yet in this moment the many kisses that he places on any patch of skin that he can find are enough to appease your beating heart. Rufus towers over you from behind when he places a kiss on your temple, on your cheek and the side of your throat, ending with numerous open-mouth kisses where your neck meets your shoulder.

When he starts moving, his pace is slow and steady, increasing in speed as the vice grip your walls have on him, paired with your high moans, starts to make Rufus dizzy. He knew you were close, his cock could barely move the way he wanted with how tight you got, he just had to give you a little push. Rufus groaned as he nuzzled the side of your face, gazing at your blurry reflection on his transparent wall, smirking at you when he locked his eyes with yours and started whispering with a hint of truth in his last words.

« How do you feel knowing that the entire building just have to look up to see you being fucked stupid by their president ?What would people think, hmm love ? Wouldn’t they think that I own you ? They’ll be smart to think as such. »

With that, you came on Rufus’s cock with a moan of his name, as Rufus finished inside your pussy soon after, moaning in your ear as he painted your walls white, a bit of his seed already oozing out of you as it trickled down your thighs. Even after you came down from your orgasm, your body was still trembling slightly with everything that Rufus made you feel. You were thankful for his strong arms that held you against him, preventing you from falling down out of exhaustion. Your head rested against him as you closed your eyes for a moment, your mind dozing off as you felt Rufus’s face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, pressing a gentle kiss here. You could hear Rufus whispering something that you couldn’t quite grasp but you still discerned his soothing tone as he kept you tightly against him.

« I might keep you after all »

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

A New World: part 5

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: It has been some time, so I decided it was more than perfectly fine to post another part to this story. Here ya goooo

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

“Okay”, (Y/N) said while playing with the pen in her hand, in a way Leo only had seen Donnie do it. “How did the other ninja turtles manage to travel through dimension?” The next day (Y/N) had decided to sit down and brainstorm ideas on how to get Leo home. At first Leo wanted to tell her that she was stupid for thinking that they even could do anything, but decided that maybe it would be a good idea to listen to the girl, who had mentioned his bonsai tree and childhood fear of heights, without him ever telling her about it.

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t even fully know how Krang did it, but surely I know how I did it in another universe”, Leo said, a little tired with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It suddenly made sense to (Y/N) why Leo was the way that he was in Rise. Speaking of Leonardo from Rise…

“Well, there is this one version of you that jumps through portals as often as he changes his underwear”. That comment made Leo stare at her, wondering if she truly was mentally stable. “Probably the best place to start. Leo, swing one of your katanas and see if you can make a portal”.

Leo stared at her in bewilderment. “What?”

“You heard me”, (Y/N) said.

“You seriously believe that is going to work?”, Leo asked, raising his brow muscles at her, hoping that she would tell him it was a joke. But of course she didn’t.

“Well, you’re still in my house, and apparently not just a figment of my imagination, so yeah, at this point I would believe that pretty much anything is possible”.

Leo sighed, annoyed over the fact that she once again had a point. He stood up and signaled for (Y/N) to stand back. She quickly did as he took out his katana, noticing the way (Y/N) was staring at him, almost starstruck.

“What?”, he asked.

“Oh nothing”, she said, slightly embarrassed. “Just kind of always wanted to see you do that, sorry. Now continue, don’t mind me”.

This girl. If Leo didn’t manage to get home to his own dimension, this girl would be the death of him.

Leo held the katana in front of him with both hands, feeling the eyes (Y/N) on him. He had no idea how to do it, and he had no idea if it would work. But he went for it, and did a quick circle in the air, hoping for a light of sorts. But nothing. Nothing happened. No lights, no portal, no nothing.

“Well, that didn’t work”, (Y/N) said.

“Nooo waayyy”, Leo said dragging out the words. “I thought there was a portal right there in front of me!” (Y/N) said nothing but just raised a brow at him. “Sorry”, Leo quickly said, putting his katana away. “I tend to get a little stingy when I’m stressed, even-”.

“Sarcastic? Yes, I know. Remember, I’ve seen every version of you in action”, she said, pointing to the movies, still out on the sofa table.

“Oh, yeah, right, I forgot…” Leo felt his face get a little hot. “So, how else have they been able to travel through dimensions?” Leo could just not bring himself to call them “me and my brother”. They were NOT him, and therefore NOT his brothers. His brothers was where he left them, back in his own dimension.

“Well, most of them involve Krang or Shredder, but for obvious reasons we can’t do those”. (Y/N) was thinking, almost so hard that Leo could hear the gears turning in her brain. “There was that one time - no that was Shredder… Or maybe! - no, Krang did that… WHat about! - no, that was time travel and that was Renet… There was also the time April’s uncle got stuck in another universe… but that was Donnie that got them out of there”. Leo sunk back down on the sofa, listening to (Y/N) thinking out loud. None of what she said rang any bells, and at one point he stopped listening, until suddenly…

“The battle nexus!”

“The battle what now?”

(Y/N) just kind of slumped at that, before breathing out something along the lines of; “this is going to be harder than I thought”.

(Y/N) sat down on the small space left for her on the sofa, and started to go on google on her Macbook. As Leo tried to look along over her shoulder, she tilted the laptop away from him. She didn’t need him to know how many TMNT related videos she had been looking at.

“Do you mind?”, she said.

“Oh… sorry”, Leo said, leaning away again, yet he couldn’t shake the suspicious feeling he got from (Y/N)’s actions. She was hiding something. She was friendly, even though Leo found her slightly annoying at times, but she had not yet given him reason to suspect her of any bad intentions. That was the first time he thought she might be up to something.

“Here you go”, she finally said, turning her screen back towards him. Leo was shocked to be met by a video of a cartoon version of him and his brother’s following master Splinter down an alleyway. Yet the first thing he noticed, that he just couldn’t stop himself from saying…

“Why are we naked in that?!” Leo almost jumped on the sofa, shocked and embarrassed, by the actions of he did not commit himself, but another version of him in a different dimension. “Where are their pants?!”

“Believe it or not, the fact that you’re wearing pants is not that common for the TMNT universe”, (Y/N) said, slightly surprised by his reaction. “Now shut up and watch”.

Master Splinter drew a sigal on the wall, before mumbeling a bunch of words unknown to Leonardo. With that he disappeared through the wall of the alleyway. These versions of Leonardo and his brothers did the same thing, following their father into the battle nexus.

“You want me to try that?”, Leo asked.

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, I don’t know what else would”.

“Sounds very uplifting”.

And with that, Leo and (Y/N) sat out to create the portal to the battle nexus. They moved the sofa out of the way, and removed a few of the frames on the wall, so they had space to draw the sigal. Following what was shown in the video, they drew the sigal, and reluctantly, Leo started chanting, the way the other version of him did. And once again, nothing. Leo covered his face with his hands, sighing irritated. (Y/N) asked him to try again, so he did, and still nothing.

Now it was (Y/N)’s time to sigh irritated. She dropped down on the moved sofa and started rubbing the temples of her head.

“This is going to be harder than I thought”.

Leo wanted to be sarcastic, and say something along the lines of; “oh, you think so? Really? Not like I didn’t tell you so”, but he decided against it. (Y/N) was only trying to help him as much as she could, even if her means was limited. And it was obviously starting to frustrate her. Annoying or not, she only tried to help Leonardo.

“Maybe we should take a break and try again later”, Leo said before standing up, towering high above (Y/N) in her seat. It never ceased to amaze her, how tall he actually was. “Food and meditation helps the brain”.

“See that sounds a lot like something you would say”, (Y/N) laughed before standing up herself. “How does Chinese takeout sound to you?”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t that annoying after all. But Leo still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And if it wasn’t (Y/N), then what was it?

—

Somewhere at a location unknown to the public, deep underground, a man was hunched over an open hatch in his big machine, connecting wireless. It was quiet in his laboratory, except from the sounds of his tools working against the metals of his machine. In the observatory on the floor above, sat a human boy, casting glances at the man on the floor below, before returning to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic in front of him. The exact same comic his father and his workers had taken their code names from for easy convenience. But the boy’s attention was now being taken from the comic at the sight of his father, and the boss of the man in the lap, showing up in the opening elevator behind the man in the lap. He watched as his father walked to the man, hands behind his back, talking, yet his son in the observatory couldn’t hear him through the thick glass. Though he wished he did. Yet he watched them in silence, their mouths moving.

“I hope my son didn’t cause too much trouble”, the boy’s father said in his calm tone, causing the poor scientist to jump in surprise.

“N- no, n- not at all Sir”, the doctor said, casting a quick glance at the circular machine behind him. “Nothing that can’t be fixed”.

The boy’s father took a step closer to the machine, taking it all in with his eyes hidden behind glasses. He then turned back towards the scientist, still with an unreadable facial expression, that caused people to fear him.

“Tell me, Dr. Lilja, how long until the machine is finished?”

The doctor started to fidget with his white sleeves, his fingers digging at the fabric. It had become a bad habit of his.

“It is hard to tell”, started the doctor, keeping his eyes away from the stern man in front of him, instead looking at the big machine by their side. “There’s no doubt that your son didn’t do anything on purpose, but it has given us a bigger setback than I first thought it did. It doesn’t mean that it can’t be fixed, but at this moment, I do not know when that will be. It could take as little as hours, days, but could also take as long as weeks, months… maybe even years”.

Lilja didn’t have to look at the boy’s father to know his facial expression. Anger. Irritation. Rage. Even though the young boy couldn’t hear the words of the two men in the laboratory, he knew the face of his father, and he knew that that face meant trouble. Big trouble. The same face he got after he accidentally broke the machine Dr. Lilja had been working on for months. And how did he break Dr. Lilja’s machine, you may ask? He played with his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Leonardo action figure on the machine buttons, while his father and Dr. Lijla was talking in the observatory. After that, he was no longer allowed in the laboratory, but only in the observatory, where he could play with his action figures and read his comics… Yeah, not his proudest moment…

The boy’s father grabbed Dr. Lilja by the neck of his shirt and stared him straight into his scared eyes. The boy gasped, putting the comic up in front of his face, only letting his eyes peek over the edge, watching the interaction play out in front of him. Lilja feared those eyes more than anything. He remembered clearly what happened to Dr. Stockman, last time he caused so much anger.

“You fix that machine in the time I told you to!” He didn’t even have to come up with a threat. Lilja knew what the punishment for not listening to him was.

“Yes! Yes! Of course Agent Bishop!”

It was at moments like this, where it once again made sense to Dr. Lilja, why Agent Bishop had chosen that code name.

[cognitivelypartiallyfurnished]

Tsukishima x mean!reader

-after Timeskip

If we can be completely honest for a second, Tsukkis gf could probably be as mean as he is and normaly he likes it that way, but what if a certain friend urged him to take a closer look...

Dont mind me, after writing this i want to recharge by taking a bath with my toaster...

warnings: teethshattering fluff, established relationship, implied smut ig and emotional unavailability, reader is a girl

Tsukishima x mean!y/n

For the past two weeks Tsukishima found himself staring at you while you were talking to some of your friends. He couldn’t help but notice the weird feeling in his stomach again, that seemed to remind him ever since that there was something he needed to talk with you about.

It all started when was hanging out with Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi on a weekend. They were all just spread all over the couch at his apartment. Everybody’s eyes were fixed on the television screen until his phone rang. Unfortunately, his phone was lying on the coffee table so he wasn’t able to grab it fast enough and when Bokuto took one glance on who the caller was he quickly snatched his phone with a smile. “Oya y/n-chan! How are you?” he howled into the speaker. Suddenly nobody really focused what was on the screen but rather on the caller. “Hey Bokuto, I´m fine, how about you? I´m sorry for disturbing your movie night, I totally forgot you guys were hanging out today!” came the response of Tsukishimas girlfriend. Bokuto tried to reply but the phone was grabbed by his blonde friend, who as soon as he noticed your voice tried to gain control of his phone again. “Hey, something up or are you just bored because I´m not with you?” he interfered the conversation with Bokuto before it even started. “Hey grumpy, in a good mood this evening? Its just the opposite, since you are finally busy, I can go out with some friends. Won’t be back till morning, just wanted to let you know in case you need help getting in bed like last weekend.” He didn’t have to see your face to know that you had a grin all over your face right now. Tsukishima furrowed his brow before replying “Don’t worry if you’re not here I don’t have to drink abnormal amounts of alcohol to forget your pain in the ass. Don’t be back till noon.” You giggled while announcing “Fuck you then, see you tomorrow dumbass. Try to stay in bed this time, will yah?” With a frown he replied, completely aware of his friends following the conversation eagerly “Only if you do it, what else is my girlfriend good for. Bring something to eat tomorrow and fuck you too.” As quick as possible he ended the call afraid of you mentioning his ungraceful fall out of bed last weekend for the third time. He was drunk and his senses weren’t exactly focused on the bed but rather on the girl that lied next to him. Taking of his glasses and pinching his nose bridge with his fingers he sighed. “I have never seen somebody more in love” Akaashi stated, his voice dripping in sarcasm. Tsukishima was confused, what was he playing at? But when Kurro asked “Are you guys always talking like that?” he started to think. Sure, in the beginning of your relationship it was a bit tampered down but you both were people who mastered the art of verbal bickering. After all it was one of the reasons he liked you so much. He shrugged and observed “I guess that’s just how we talk. I know that she doesn’t mean half the things she’s saying, and I guess she does the same with my remarks.” Kuroo took him in before commenting “Well ever since I’ve known you it was clear that you wouldn’t fall for someone sweet and innocent. I guess you finally found your match regarding the snarkiness. I can’t help but wonder if you guys talk like that all the time? Don’t you ever speak nicely with each other? And I never took y/n for someone to be that snarky around others? But maybe I´m reading too much into it, it’s your relationship after all. Let’s continue with the movie, I want to see this monster of a man again”. However, for the rest of the movie Tsukishima was lost in thought rather than in a cinematic universe.

Ever since this evening he was observing how you were acting with your friends and how your conversations were filled. He was in the final stages of his master thesis, but it itched him to gain knowledge on his relationship with you. After two weeks of doing so he came to the realization, that kuroo was a master of observing and he was right about Tsukishimas relationship. When you were with your friends there was a soft smile on your face, your voice a constant sound and even your posture seemed to be a bit more laid back than when he was with you. The blonde was aware of his quirks, especially expressing his emotions. He simply couldn’t help himself; he actually had no idea when it started and how he could try to have nicer or simply softer conversations with you. And then there even was something close to fear, he thought, what if after those roughly two and a half years you didn’t like him anymore? Sure, you cared for him but maybe you had fallen out of love with him and only wanted to remain friends? That was something he wouldn’t be able to do, he loved you too much for this, at least that he was sure of. The only idea he had was calling the person who had dealt with his snarky demeanor for the longest time and Akiteru was as happy as he wasn’t in a long time to be called by his brother and even asked for advice regarding his emotions. They sure had a lot to talk about this night.

For a bit more than a week your boyfriend was behaving very awkwardly you thought. It started when he kept staring at you having conversations with your friends even though he was supposed to work on his thesis to finish off his university career. When the staring stopped you heard and saw even less of him and after a week of very little contact and only half sided answers, you decided to contact him to explain this mess. Taking out your phone and texting him Hey smartass, I feel like we need to have a talk. Can we meet up or are you going to ignore me? you felt dizzy in your head.

After a few minutes, which you’ve spent in half agony, half hope his answer appeared on your phone: I agree, we need to talk, do you want to come over at my place Friday afternoon? Or do you want to meet on neutral ground?

You felt your heart sinking in your chest while reading his message, was he going to break up with you? Why was he proposing a neutral ground? Maybe you were too mean for him, maybe he needed somebody nicer? Or were you too clingy, too annoying or were you holding him back from reaching his potential? Despite feeling sick in your stomach, you agreed to meet him at his apartment.

Hearing the knock on his door he was startled. Closing his eyes, he had to remind himself that it was just you, you’ve been together for so long but he couldn’t help himself being slightly anxious, just like the first date you had or the first time you kissed. Tsukishima supposed, this was a first as well but this one he wanted to get over with. Opening the door he found himself astounded again, he had scarcely seen you the past days and now he was questioning himself why he prohibited himself from looking at you for such a long time. As usual he wasn’t quite able to point to what it was that kept him from looking elsewhere almost every time you where in his periphery. After more than two years he was aware, that your looks were slightly above average, so far he could tell objectively. But when he fully looked at you, he saw so much more than a slightly average girl. Somehow to him you looked harmonic, every tiny aspect of you fitted you so well in this whole picture of you that he was sure to be able to believe in a god if he told him that you where the gods eternal masterpiece. And then there was the feeling of home that settled between his shoulder blades each time he looked at you, he could practically feel your face on his back as he was making your morning tea and you were hugging him from behind. He had often wondered how on earth he was able to have all those thoughts, but he knew he’d never be able to speak them out loud.   

“Can I come in or do you want to watch me freeze to death in front of your doorstep?” you implied. It took almost all his restriction to not answer in his usual sarcastic demeanor. He stepped aside and you entered his small hallway almost immediately. Now you two were standing close together but you still felt like there was a big distance between you. This time he started speaking “Do you want some tea before your limbs freeze off?” You simply nodded and followed him into the small kitchen, the place where you two had cooked countless times together, shared so many laughters and had your deepest (and also drunkest) conversations. Now you understood why he had proposed a neutral meeting ground, this place breathed your shared memories. Unable to understand why you were thinking dramatic thoughts like that when you literally had last been here the weekend before you gratefully took the cup with your favourite tea from his hands, the slight touch of your fingers sending shivers like the first time you kissed down your forearms and back.

“Can I start? I think its best if we get this over with and before you say anything I want to tell you something, okay?” Seeing your big ass boyfriend mumbling you looked at him curiously, the voice of him not being snarky was rare to you. Afraid of disturbing the intimate and cozy atmosphere of the apartment in comparison to this cold and grey afternoon, you only whispered “okay”. While he seemed to gather his thoughts you were looking around. There was a reason you came over to his place more often than Tsukishima found himself at your place. His place was smaller but much more comfortable, he seemed to even have lit some candles you brought over on the small table in the kitchen. A strange feeling in your chest seemed to compress your heart, unsure of what was to come next you tried to take some last steady breaths. When Tsukishima started speaking, you looked him in the eyes, always lost in this weird shade of brown.

“okay…you are probably the only person…no who am I kidding… but you are the person who knows best how bad I am with emotions. However, there is something important I want to talk with you about. So, I guess unconsciously I was aware of this but what can I say, I’m good at ignoring my unconsciousness. When you called two weekends or so ago and were talking to Bokuto, you remember? Uhm, Kuroo mentioned something afterwards and I had to think about it ever since. I don’t think I´ll ever know a good way to say this so I’m just going to put it here: I think I don’t like the way we speak with each other anymore. Well, actually I’m sure I don’t like it. Most of the time I do, its just that I can’t help but wonder why we snark at each other all the time. Like when you talk to your friends you just seem so much nicer, I can’t help but think that its me who keeps you from being nice to me. I love your bickering, it turns me on so bad and makes me feel like I’m not the only sarcastic asshole but I think I also want to share nice moments with you. I don’t want to only have your mean side even though I know that you don’t mean the things you’re saying most of the time, I sure as hell don’t but I want to have all sides of you. I want to learn to have nice, normal conversations with you. I know that its not your fault or my fault alone, we both have to pull ourselves together for it, but I really want to. And now I’ve said all this and don’t even know if you still want to be my girlfriend, so if you don’t, please pretend I never said anything.” The breath he took when he was done was one of the loudest he’d ever taken, even in one of his volleyball games he scarcely was as out of breath as he was now. “Can we sit? Then its my turn to say something okay?” you proposed, suddenly aware of your trembling legs. Now you two were sitting across from each other, you gripping your cup of tea like your life depended on it and him doing his usual finger-fidgeting.

“I feel bad but I have to say it” You started, looking into his eyes, wide open and shocked, he was ready to say something but you continued “Shhh, now’s my time to talk. I thought you wanted to break up with me for the last week, so I was super afraid and nervous, well that doesn’t even cover it. I´m so glad, honestly, it’s been a while since I have felt this kind of relief. But now to your point. I think one of the reasons I’m snarky around you most of the time is that your kind of my Homeport…Around others I feel like I can’t talk shit all the time, nobody would like me, well except you. With you I don’t…I can just give you my thoughts without filter. However, I think I´ve been filtering all the nice and lovely things I´m thinking about you because I had the feeling that this just wasn’t our dynamic. I know you at least like me when you turn of the light and take my book away at night when I suddenly surrendered to sleep or how you know how to cook my favourite meals and how you tone down your teasing a bit on a bad day. Over the two years I learned to notice the small things and I hope you do too. But I agree, sometimes, especially when friends talk about their relationships, I´ll have a weak moment and just wish for some kind words or even something like I like you from my boyfriend. So if you’re feeling the same I´ll gladly put in the effort, I don’t want to loose you…You are very important for me…and I like you the way you are…and you probably ruined me for every other relationship if there is ever one because you just are you but like with a special place for me. I doubt that there’s anybody out there that is so well matched for me like you are so…don’t put me through this again. And remember those nice words!”  

Now it was Tsukishimas turn to be astounded. You both weren’t the kind to speak lots of words, deeming them unnecessary most of the time so you both rambling was a special occasion. Still fidgeting with his fingers he thought about your words. Slowly but surely there was a blood pouring in his cheeks, he could feel them heating up thinking about what you just proclaimed. “Come over here, I have something even better for you” Noticing how you were about to sob he kept his arms open until you were in reach and then pulled you into his lap. There were three magical words you’ve both only had said to each other so far when the other one was seemingly fast asleep. But after so much time together and hopefully even more he felt like it was now time to say it. “Y/n you’re a dork.” You looked at him deadpanned. “And I love you” now you were flabbergasted. Not being able to process a single thought you just stared at him while he hold you tightly in his arms and waited for you with a devious grin. Shoulders dropping and head tilting, you looked him in the eyes “I love you too Kei”. Next thing you know his lips are on yours, this must be the most love-loaded kiss you two have ever shared.

“If I´d known an I love you from me would shut you up for once I´d have told you waaay sooner”

“Kei, I´d shut up gladly hearing it from your stupid mouth again.”

“This stupid mouth will see about that in a minute, then you can tell me how much you like this stupid mouth!”

The smile you gave him now almost stopped his heart, it wasn’t exactly as pleasing as the soft smile for your friends but he was able to see your dimples and he decided, if there is one person who can laugh at him for falling out of a bed forever, it’s probably you. So no, there won’t be another relationship, except like, being engaged to you or something, but that could wait another year, Tsukishima tought.

[witchwyfe]

cruel summer ii - rc

pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader

précis - part two of cruel summer !!

content/warnings - mentions of food, mentions of eating, language, kissing, i think that's it

word count - 1,331

a/n - the long-awaited sequel! thank y'all for being so patient i really hope it was worth the wait :)

“Okay, so I have Diet coke, Oreos, and the breadsticks from The Wreck, that you love.” You list of the items that are neatly packed away in your lunchbox from high school, gesturing to the backseat, where said lunchbox is sitting.

“You’re the best.” Rafe flashes you a shiny smile as he hauls himself into your passenger seat. You wait for the click of his seatbelt before pulling out of Tanneyhill’s driveway. 

Ever since you and Rafe had talked and acquired your new friendship status, you’d been spending quite a bit of time together—as in the whole summer. You have a week before you’re heading back to school, and it pains both of you more than you’ll ever admit. Tonight’s event is a beach picnic, hence the old lunchbox and blanket in your backseat. 

Instead of your usual chatter and occasional banter, Rafe is glued to his phone, a frown etched onto his lips. You glance over once, at a red light, but he doesn’t appear to notice. 

“So,” You start, somewhat awkwardly. “How was your day?”

Rafe clicks his phone off, looking up as he clears his throat, the sound husky as it reverberates throughout the car. “My day?” He coughs, red rising on his cheeks. Your foot pushes against the gas pedal so you don’t notice the blushing boy beside you. “Was okay. Worked with my dad.”

You grimace on instinct, wrinkling your nose in a way, Rafe doesn’t want to admit, is cute. “Was he nice to you?”

He laughs half-heartedly. “He was okay. Just the usual.” You frown again and lean over to pat his shoulder, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in your arm as you bend it back.

“S’fine.” He shakes his head. “Seriously, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.” You murmur, more to yourself than him, but he catches it anyway.

“Well, enough about me.” He pauses to shift in his seat, swallowing down the hesitation that engulfs him. It’s such a simple question—one you’d already asked him—but he can’t help but feel how domestic it is, how sweet that you care enough to ask, to ask and mean it, rather than throwing out a meaningless sentiment. “How was your day?” He croaks out, covering it up with a cough that does nothing to stop more heat from rising on his cheeks. 

“Pretty good.” You smile. “Better now. I get so lonely during the summer, I should’ve gotten a job or something. I did go shopping though, on the mainland, had to get up early.” You frown. “Sorry for talking your ear off.

“You’re not!” He expresses immediately. “I like hearing what you have to say.” He could listen to you talk for hours and never get bored, you could say the same sentence a hundred times and he wouldn’t mind, he’s sure your sweet timbre would make it more than bearable.

“Oh,” It’s like the heat has spread from his cheeks to your own. “Thanks Rafe.” 

“D’you find a new duvet?” He inquires. “I know you said you wanted a new one before you go back to school.”

“Yeah, I-I, did.” You smile, swallowing over the stutter in your words. “Didn’t realized you remembered.”

“I do actually listen when you talk, ya know?” He teases.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You retort, giggling when he gasps in mock offense.

“Oh right, because you totally listen to everything I tell you.” He argues, playful sarcasm tinting his words.

“Shut up, I do!” You’re laughing again when you pull into the beach parking lot and see Rafe’s pout and crossed arms.

“Oh yeah?” He challenges. “What game was I telling you about yesterday?” He taunts.

You’re silent for a few seconds before he’s shaking his head in disappointment. “See, I knew it!”

“S’not my fault Rafael!” You shriek in attempt to defend yourself. “Baseball’s so boring, I was listening but I forgot.”

“Oh, you forgot?” He eggs you one. “Nice try, sweet girl.” 

He processes the nickname two seconds after it fell easily from his lips. You don’t seem to notice so he doesn’t make a deal about it. Seem is the key word, because you didn’t think it was physically possible to want someone so badly, a simple term of endearment sending you into a frenzy. It’s different than the princess, he’d always called you, even now that you’re friends. This wasn’t a tease or a nickname you give to bother someone, it’s sincere and real. 

“Okay whatever,” You sigh, reaching into the backseat for the lunchbox and the large beach blanket. “I promise, next time you talk baseball, I’ll take notes so I don’t forget.”

“Gonna get you into baseball someday!” He sing-songs, sidling up to you as soon as you’re both out of the car. “Want me to hold on to your stuff?” He wonders softly, noticing your lack of tote bag.

“Hm, yes please.” You murmur, handing him your wallet and keys. “Thank you.”

The beach as is crowded as you expected, late evening in early August, still hot but cooled just a bit for the incoming sunset. Rafe helps you lay out the blanket before settling right beside you on it. 

You pull out two cans of Diet Coke and Rafe’s eyes light up. Surprisingly, you and him also shared an obsession for the soda. He cracks a can for you, then one for himself. You take a generous sip, the crisp carbonation sliding down your throat, deliciously. 

As the sky melts into orange and pink sherbert, snacks and diet cokes demolished, you and Rafe sit silently, shoulder to shoulder, his body heat radiating against your skin, even through his t-shirt and your crewneck. 

You sit, gathering your nerve, wanting, needing to say something, anything.

“Hey Rafe?” You wonder softly, clearing your throat. 

“Hmm?”

“Is it gonna be different?” You’re spitting words out before you can even think of what you mean but you keep going. “Like, since we’re friends now like, are we—“ You cut yourself off with a sigh. “I guess what I mean to say is, will it still be like this when I go back to school?”

“Like, us hanging out? And talking?” He wonders slowly and you nod.

“I just, I’ve had a really good summer with you and I don’t want it to end just because I’m leaving.”

He nods knowingly. “It doesn’t have to.” He assures. “I’ve had a great summer too, and you know, UNC isn’t that far, we can hang out whenever we want.”

You nod. “Cool.”

He nods again and the silence returns, this time charged with something different, unfamiliar, something that’s been building the entire summer, finally enough that you can feel it.

“And one more thing,” You start, building your nerve. When he turns to you, you set your hands on his shoulders and press your lips to his, just once, soft, and delicate.

“Fuck,” You hiss, eyes widening as you search his expression. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, we can just act like it never happened and—“

There’s a magnetic pull between your lips and his, a sigh of relief leaving you when his mouth finally covers yours. Your fingers scramble for purchase on the collar of his shirt, before dancing up to thread through the hair at his nape. His hands are on fire at your sides, skimming underneath your sweatshirt, rough palms meeting smooth, soft skin. 

“That was more than okay, sweetheart.” He grins crookedly when you pull back, lips wet and swollen. “Long time coming I think.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, curling into his side. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

“I’m gonna visit you.” He promises with a kiss. “As much as you want. You’re going to be sick of me.”

“Not possible.” You shake your head. “I think I had enough of that the last ten years of my life. I want to get as much of you as I can.”

“You have me sweetheart, all of me.”

© witchwyfe 2023. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[bloodcanbehot]

I Wish You Would

(gotta keep that Taylor Swift theme)

Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Content: Angst? Fluff? Touched starved Lockwood

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds, also some curse words (I think)

Characters: Anthony Lockwood and (y/n) Kipps. (Lucy Carlyle and Quill Kipps also appear)

Word count: 1.083

A/N: Exactly two people told me to post it, and that was enough (I'm literally about to enter to an online class while typing this). Chronology speaking, this goes BEFORE their first kiss but I'm a dumbass and forgot to post this one first, hope you like it

(I'll attach their first kiss here)

“Where were you?” Quill asked, seeing both Lockwood and (y/n) walk in with dirt on their faces and hair. As soon as he spoke, his sister’s face told him to not speak, unless he wanted to die.

“We’re fine!” (y/n) said, grabbing Lockwood by the arm and walking to the kitchen.

“You guys don’t look-” Lucy started, but the slamming of the door cut her off.

“Sit”

“I’m not your dog”

“And I don’t care” (y/n) said, pointing at the kitchen chair “sit down”

Lockwood did as she said, even though he didn’t want to. (y/n) started taking out items from the first aid kit, slamming them on the table as she cursed.

“I cannot fucking believe you” she said “seriously, why is it so hard for you to take care of yourself while we’re out on a case?” (y/n) asked, soaking a small piece of cotton with disinfectant. She grabbed Lockwood’s arm, forcefully moving the sleeve of his dress shirt up to see his cut better.

“(y/n) I-” Lockwood started, hissing when the cotton made contact with the cut on his arm.

“This might hurt” (y/n) said, after hearing him hissing, a smirk on her face.

“Okay” Lockwood said “I deserved that”

“You deserve more” (y/n) said “actually, you don’t even deserve me doing this for you, should I just tell my brother to do it, so you suffer a bit more?” she questioned, sarcasm all over her voice.

“(y/n)-”

“You know, when Luce told me you were reckless, I thought 'well, he's certainly not stupid' guess I was wrong!” she grabbed one of the big band aids and covered his cut.

“(y/n) I’m sorry, okay?” he said “this wasn’t reckless, I had a plan, it just didn’t work”

“Wow, what a surprise”

“I didn’t know the golden blade was gonna be there!”

“The what?” (y/n) stood up, forgetting about his other cuts.

“Last year we encountered him” Lockwood explained “we think he somehow works for Penelope Fittes-”

“My boss?”

“Yes” Lockwood nodded “he tried to steal the bone glass from Lucy and I” he explained “he’s also the one who shot me” he grabbed her hand “you have to believe me”

(y/n) looked at his eyes, processing what he had said in silence, enough to make Lockwood panic, the hold on her hand tightening.

“I… I believe you” she said, sitting back down. She wasn’t gonna lie, she always felt a weird vibe from the woman, or the entire agency for that matter. And she didn’t think Lockwood would lie to her.

He sighed in relief “Thank you (y/n)-”

“What I also believe” she started, letting go of his hand and grabbing a new cotton piece “is that your other cuts need to be taken care of” she said “specially this one” she tapped slightly the cut on his forehead, making him hiss again “I thought you were good at fencing?”

“I am” Lockwood shot back “I was just… surprised”

“Your blood says otherwise” (y/n) replied “now, lean closer so I can help”

Lockwood only nodded and whispered a small ‘yes’, letting her do the work and leaning closer as she instructed. As she leaned in, she quickly realized how her back was going to kill her if she did that, so she grabbed her chair and dragged it a bit closer to his, eventually ending up with her thigh in the middle of his thighs.

Lockwood chuckled “you might as well sit on my lap if you-”

“Shut up or I’ll do it” she cut him off with a smile.

He smirked “be my guest”

She ignored him, grabbing the back of his head to steady it as she disinfected the cut across his forehead. She was focused, focused on cleaning the blood and figuring out which bandage to use, but Lockwood’s wandering hands on her knee were distracting her.

It started with his fingers, slowly tapping her knee, barely noticeable, and she wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t kept going at it. His fingers slid across her knee and (y/n) made her best to ignore it, but as she stood up to change the cotton piece, he pushed her leg open, causing her to fall on his lap.

“That’s better” he said, smirk on his lips again.

“Lockwood-”

“Please” he said, voice so quiet she barely heard him.

She looked at his eyes, and for one moment she saw his mask crack. His dark circles and clenched jaw showed her how tired and stressed he was. She couldn’t even imagine how much his muscles ached after the fight, let alone the throbbing of the multiple cuts on his skin.

“Fine” she whispered, not trusting her own voice with the feeling of his hands on her waist.

She kept doing her thing in silence and he just watched her, tracing small circles on her sides with his thumbs. (y/n) just wanted to close her eyes and enjoy it, enjoy his touch on her skin and wish she could feel it for longer, to forget about the case, the fight, everything. She wanted to focus on him and him only.

“There” she said, breaking whatever spell was between them. She grabbed his chin, angling his face to admire the, now taken care of, cut “you’ll live”

He chuckled, smiling truthfully for the first time that night, or since (y/n) knew him, she didn’t care. She liked the small glow on his face.

They locked eyes, the blanket of silence settling on them again. (y/n)’s fingers slid across his chin towards his jaw, making him close his eyes and just enjoy her touch. His hands started moving up her waist, slowly, also making her want to close her eyes and enjoy, but she still leaned forward, closer and closer to him.

He felt it, the weight shift on his lap, some of her curly locks tickling his shoulders.

She could feel their lips almost touching.

The door opened, making her open her eyes wide and snap her neck so hard she wondered if this is how she was going to die. That would be better than the image she saw.

Both Lucy and her brother were standing at the doorstep. (y/n) stumbled off Lockwood’s lap, feeling his hands fly away from her and almost fell. Chair and all.

She gripped the thinking cloth “I was tending his cut” she stupidly said.

She could feel how Quill resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as she looked at him.

“You sure were”

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

A/N: I feel like this scene and the other one are pretty similar, so if I do write the fanfic I'll change it, but let me know what you think! (Again, be nice)

[feelingf1]

and they said speak now part 2 - oscar piastri

you can read part one: here

happy taylor swift month!! (or august as normal people call it)

also, I forgot to give Ocar’s bride a name in the first part, hence why I just keep calling her ‘bride’. :)

enjoy!!

—————

But Oscar kept his mouth shut.

He looked at you, at his bride, at the priest, at the crowd, but he never once opened his mouth.

It was like he was frozen still, until suddenly, he dropped his bride’s hands and left the church through the back door.

That was it. You had just ruined your best friend’s wedding, and probably your friendship too.

The tears started to fall down your face, and there was no way that you could stop them. You were truly heartbroken.

The bride made her way down the aisle, stopping to talk to you, or rather, give out to you.

“Wow, thanks a lot Y/N. You really know how to make a wedding day amazing, don’t you?” The sadness was evident in her voice, as it broke multiple times, but that didn’t stop it being laced with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry.” You managed to whisper, attempting to wipe the tears from your eyes, to look collected. “I didn’t mean to ruin your day, but I’m in love with him, and I had to tell him.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “You’re a pathetic excuse of a person. Ruining our wedding day just so you can confess feelings that he doesn’t have, because, to remind you, HE’S GETTING MARRIED TO ME!!”

She was shouting now. Her bridal group tried calming her down, but there was no stopping her.

“If he loved you, wouldn’t you be the bride right now?” She stated, glaring at you.

With that statement, she walked away and headed out of the church doors. You were left standing in the aisle, before your legs crumbled from under you. You dropped your head and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“What have I done?” You whispered to yourself multiple times. Oscar had been a part of your life ever since you could remember, surely you didn’t lose him that easily, right?

You felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you. You looked up to find Lando, smiling softly at you. You dropped your head onto his shoulder and cried into his suit, grabbing onto him for comfort.

“Oh Lando, I’m so stupid. What have I done?” Lando comforted you, rubbing his hand through your hair.

“Oh Y/N. You told the truth, that’s not wrong to do. I promise you that. You’re brave for doing it.” The two of you sat on the floor for a few more minutes before he got to his feet.

“C’mon, we have an Oscar to go find.”

Your head snapped up at the mention of his name.

“Huh?” You asked.

Lando grabbed your hands. “Do you seriously think I’m letting this end here? No, we’re gonna go find him.”

You pulled yourself up with Lando’s help, before you started arguing with him.

“No way. That is definitely not happening this time Lando.” Could you really trust Lando’s advice again, when his advice is what landed you in this situation in the first place.

“You can’t lose him, Y/N.”

He was right. You couldn’t lose Oscar. You couldn’t lose the person who you loved for years.

“Okay, let’s go.” You agreed, and the two of you headed out the doors.

You got outside, and soon after realized that Oscar had left. He didn’t drink much last night, so he was perfectly fine to drive, something that wasn’t common with all of the other wedding guests.

You pulled out your phone, trying desperately to call and text him, but there was no reply, to you or to anybody, as all his mates had been trying him too.

Oscar’s groomsmen headed over to you. “Y/N, any idea where he’d be?” After all, this was yours and Oscar’s home town, nobody knew it better than the two of you.

You thought long and hard about where he could be. He wouldn’t be at his home, that was too obvious. He wouldn’t be at his parents’, because his parents’ house was accommodated by the rest of his family attending the wedding, and that was too obvious also.

“Y/N, is there anywhere he goes when he’s like stressed?” Lando asked you.

And then it clicked, you knew exactly where Oscar was.

He was at the Old Park.

You ran out to the church’s gates, signaling for a taxi on the busy main road. Lando raced after you. “I’ll go with you, but I’ll stay in the car, okay?” You nodded your head in agreement, and a taxi pulled up to the two of you soon after.

“Where are you guys headed?” The taxi driver asked after the two of you rushed in.

“The Old Park please, as quick as you can.”

You and Lando didn’t talk on the journey there, which was unlike you, but with the tension being so high with everything that just happened, maybe it was better than way.

Your legs were bouncing with nerves. You only had one shot to make this right, to make it up with Oscar, to get your best friend back.

After what felt like hours, you arrived at the park. You swung the door open and left Lando to deal with the payment. As you ran through the park, headed for the picnic benches, your mind became flooded with memories.

Ever since the two of you were young, this was your hangout place. You lived in a tiny apartment with all your siblings, so you could never have Oscar over as a child. Even though he invited you to his house all the time, the two of you wanted a place away from everybody else.

This is where Oscar came after every bad race, where you’d assure him that his family were still so proud of him. You’d come here when your family would stress you out with their sky-high expectations for you, and give out to you when you wouldn’t meet them. Oscar would hold you in his arms as you cried your heart out. He had to be here now, at your place.

As you sprinted up the slope, you saw a shadow sitting on the picnic table, and you never felt so relieved. He was looking down over the city, a view the two of you had spent many night admiring, but also wishing you could get away from.

You stopped dead in your tracks. What were you going to say to Oscar? Apologize? Explain? You didn’t really know, but you had to say something.

“Oscar?” You said, softly.

Oscar’s head whipped around, and he gave you a soft smile when he seen you. “I knew you’d find me.” He replied.

He pushed over to one side of the table and patted it, beckoning for you to join him, which you did.

You sighed deeply before you started explaining.

“Oscar, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding, really I didn’t. It’s just, well, I was told by someone that I should tell you how I felt. I tried to do it this morning but I was too nervous. I- I don’t know why I did it in the church, I never thought I would, but the fact I did it must mean something right? It’s just-”

Oscar grabbed your jaw, turned your head towards you, and kissed you. The kiss was deep with passion and desire, which, for you, confirmed that you weren’t the only one with feelings.

After a few moments, Oscar pulled away and pressed your foreheads together.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you for years. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything, I guess I was scared of ruining our friendship. I didn’t really want to get married, but I thought it might force me to get over you, because I thought you would never like me in any other way. I love you Y/N Y/L/N.”

Tears swelled up in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks. This was possibly the best thing you could have asked for. You wrapped your arms around Oscar and kissed him again, softly, gently, like you two had all the time in the world.

Once again, the two of you pulled away and sat in a comfortable silence.

“Oscar?” You asked, and he hummed back.

“What’re you going to do about the wedding?”

Oscar looked down at himself, almost forgetting he was in his wedding suit, and he ditched his wedding. He stayed silent for a minute, before asking.

“Do you think you can find a wedding dress today?”

“Huh?” You didn’t really understand what Oscar was asking.

He hopped off of the table and pulled off his engagement ring, before getting down on one knee in front of you.

“Y/N, I know this is crazy and rushed, but I want to marry you today. I’ve waited years to tell you that I love you and I don’t think I can wait another day for you to be my bride. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

You hands flew up to cover your mouth and you nodded frantically. This was the best day of your life, by far.

“Oh Oscar, of course I’ll marry you.”

He placed his ring on your finger before kissing you again. He grabbed your hand as the two of you ran down the slope. “Let’s go get married!” You exclaimed with joy.

A few hours later, you were stood at the church’s doors. You had to ring up your family to tell them the news, and even though they thought you were mental, they were happy for you. You chose to wear your mother’s wedding dress, and your sister happened to be a florist, so she organized your wedding flowers. You had your whole family around you and you couldn’t be happier.

The organ started to play, and with the help of your sisters carrying the train of your dress, you walked down the aisle. Of course, it was a small crowd. Most people wouldn’t show up to a wedding with a few hours notice, but you couldn’t care.

You were getting married to the love of your life, and that’s all that mattered.

The ceremony began and it was beautiful. Half way through, you found Lando in the crowd and smiled at him. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for him. You giggled to yourself when you seen that there was tear stains on his cheeks, as they were on your own also.

The priest, once again, said the infamous line.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

There was silence across the church. Nobody wanted to object to your marriage. The two of you started laughing.

“Second time’s the charm, huh?” He whispered into your ear.

The ceremony concluded as the priest reached his final words.

“Y/N, do you take Oscar to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He asked you.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “I do.” You replied, smiling as Oscar placed the wedding ring on your finger.

“Oscar, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Oscar smiled at you. “I do.” You took the ring and carefully placed it on his finger, gently rubbing his hand.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The two of you kissed, and you had never, ever felt happier. You smiled out at the crowd after, then grabbed Oscar’s hand as the two of your headed down the aisle whilst being showered in confetti and flowers.

You stopped at the steps of the church.

“I love you, husband.”

“I love you too, my wife.”

—————

Hopefully the 2nd part was okay and you guys enjoyed it! I made sure that it was a happy ending :)

taglist for those who commented on the last post:

@14messynessy @mycenterfold @hc-dutch @moonvr @sopheeg @hevburn @badgirlmarz @c0wgirlswag @ctrlyomomma

[sammygems]

Things I Have Noticed/Remembered from my MCDiaries rewatch

I will be updating this as I continue my rewatch, currently everything listed is out of order, cause I've started writing this as I am on episode 64 of season 1 and I don't feel like fixing it to be in order, so sorry!

What the fuck was Garroth's "plan" he mentions to Zenix in the first episode 😭

Zenix seems to be younger then Garroth in Diaries, considering the way that Garroth talks about him, but I think in MyStreet, Zenix is either the same age or slightly older then Garroth, so far this is like, the only obvious age difference between the series (besides Travis and everyone else of course)

I forgot how entertaining Brendan's character is, he's far less annoying then I remembered

ZANE AS AN ACTUAL BAD PERSON, I LOVE HIM

I love Vylad, but I legit forgot how much he was in Diaries season 1, I thought he was in it far less

Currently at the stage of Diaries where there is no lgbt+ people, i'm very disappointed by this (we haven't even reached the queerbaiting)

KC's character is....not as bad (racist) as I was expecting, still not great though. I'm choosing to believe that KC is from Tu'lu and Maid Cafes are a thing there, and "Kawaii~Chan" is just a stage name for her work.

Y'all know how Cadenza went missing and she was actually turned into a chicken? Yeah, the way Hayden, Castor, & Laurance talk about her to Aphmau makes it sound like Cadenza is a small child. But then it turns out she's the same age, if not older, then Laurance and Aphmau.

Aphmau should've just made Joh and Hayden lovers, I'm so serious, it would make the whole Cadenza and Laurance being "close like siblings" in season 1 to I think actually being called as siblings in season 2 and in MyStreet a lot easier to understand and make a lot more sense.

Why does Kenmur have like, some sort of romance with all the girls from Meteli??? He was engaged to Sasha and is stated to have feelings for Cadenza.

I love when the episodes open from Sasha's POV, and she goes and talks to Gene and there's just no voices. I love having to pause to read what they're saying. (this point is sarcasm)

The way literally everyone reacted to learning Laurance was blind was....icky. Like, I understand Cadenza and Aphmau reacting as like "we need to find a way to bring his sight back", but the fact that it was literally EVERYONE who decided he needed to get his sight back was so weird.

I don't mind Laurance ACTUALLY getting his sight back, but I wish it was done differently. Like, personally, I'd have him like, have to wash his face with the water of the fountain of Lady Irene.

Emma & Corey, Dale & Molly, and Logan & Donna are very sweet couples.

After Zoey and KC were able to turn Cadenza back to her human form, Zoey mentions that she "recognizes Cadenza from somewhere", but I don't think this goes anywhere???? I'm assuming it was supposed to hint at like, Cadenza's backstory.

ngl, I kinda wish we got more of Zane and Kiki's relationship, I really wanna know what side of Zane Kiki actually saw.

Anyway, Kiki is currently expecting.

Nicole (my beloved) has showed up. I've decided I won't question the logic behind her iron fists being able to break bedrock, and instead say that her referencing her iron fists just made me think of Ace from One Piece and Natsu & Gajeel from Fairy Tail.

I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT NICOLE'S FOX, ROXY, AND ABOUT THE WYVERNS IN GENERAL 😭

I need to mention that in one episode (before Aphmau went to Scaleswind and learned about Lady Irene), Garroth says to Aphmau "by the seven", which I think she was hurt, but the use of "by the seven" is similar to how the same phase would be used in Game of Thrones or to how irl lots of people say "oh my god", so I'm really wondering if there were originally supposed to be 7 Divine Warriors instead of 6.

The way when Aphmau found Levin and decided to keep him and Garroth IMMEDIATLY decided he would be Levin's father figure.

The way when Laurance found out that Aphmau had a kid, his response was to play with Levin and say to Aphmau "you didn't tell me you had this little buddle of joy/energy".

That's all for now, I'll like, update when I have more to add.

[sxmpfxrortega]

Blinded by Secrets

an: hello :) i am back and *not so* better than ever. I'm gonna be doing multiple chapters of this because there's quite a lot.

Warnings: blood, kissing (later on), nsfw (also later on), mentions of unalivings

ps. this is a g!p reader story :)

hope you enjoy!

/////////////////////////// 1 /////////////////////////////////

It was a chilly night in New York, you were getting goosebumps despite your robe and your mask.

The wind picks up as you near the river, you let out an exasperated huff.

You take the lifeless body that was once over your shoulder and sit him on the ledge, dumping him into the water.

As he begins to sink, your phone dings; it's a message from Tara, your best friend.

Tara: Hey, where are you? The friend group's been looking for you... you're making us worried.

You sigh in frustration as you hit the call button, calling her.

Tara picks up after the first ring, her voice filled with worry.

"Hey, are you okay? We thought something terrible happened to you. Where are you?" she fires off quickly.

You laugh into the phone, finding her rapid fire of questions adorable, "Uh-no? I had to pick up my little brother from his friend's house. I'm sorry, he had a panic attack." You lied easily to her despite the feeling of hatred you had for yourself doing so... but you can't let her know what you've just done.

The relief in her voice can be heard, "Oh my god, is he okay? Are you still with him?"

You sigh a little, your head has a dull pounding, "I just dropped him off, I'm heading to the apartment in a bit, I need to change."

She sounds more relaxed once you say that, but you can still hear a tinge of worry laced in her voice, "Why do you have to change? Is something wrong?"

Shit. Probably shouldn't have mentioned that.

You stammer slightly, trying to think of something quickly, "No, yeah, everything's fine, I just uh... spilled some coffee in my lap. You know me, clumsy and now unfortunately sticky."

You laugh awkwardly and slap your forehead and think to yourself, 'nice one, jackass'

Luckily, she laughs as well, "You and coffee stains don't go well together, huh?"

You smile and imagine that cute smile that shows her dimples.

God, are you a simp or are you a simp?

You chuckle softly, "It definitely is better consumed, I must say."

She giggles sweetly at your sarcasm, more relaxed, "Okay well... you said you'll be here soon? How long will you be?"

You think to yourself for a moment, your eyes scanning the dark alleyway, "Uh... give me like 20 and I'll be there."

You can practically hear the smile in her voice, "Alright, hurry up then, I'm ready for some cuddles."

You're taken aback, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, "O-oh?"

Your brain is malfunctioning as you tug at the collar of your robe.

She laughs deviously, "You heard me."

Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, barely able to formulate a sentence, "How could I resist?"

She laughs, "You can't, so hurry up. I miss you, dork."

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and just for a moment, you forgot you just dumped a body into the river.

"Who all's there right now?" You say, clearing your throat, trying hard to regain your composure.

She takes a breath before responding, "Quinn, Ethan, and me. We're in the middle of a game, but I want you right now."

Your eyebrows raise at how bold she was being.

Jesus Christ, Tara Carpenter will be the death of you, and you're more than okay with that.

Your words are quiet, "Where's your sister, goober? She hardly leaves you alone."

She lets out an exaggerated sigh, "I know, I'm surprised as well... she's actually with the guy next door. Now will you please stop playing 20 questions with me and get here so I can see you!?"

You can hear the pout in her tone and practically see the puppy dog eyes.

You chuckle at her, "Ma'am yes ma'am, don't wanna keep you waiting."

She giggles cutely, "Finally, I can't wait to see you."

You smile to yourself a bit at her dramatics, "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay, hurry it up." She says with a laugh.

You hang up the phone and sigh harder, looking down at your body.

You have blood all over you from the person you just killed.

You rip your Ghostface outfit off and throw it in the gym bag in your trunk.

Jumping in the driver's seat, you speed off to your apartment to change.