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#So yeah sometime I’ll draw them!
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I’m really curious how you would draw the Five Missing Children.
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Technically I’ve drawn them! Only the movie versions though, sometime I’ll do the game ones too!
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pixlokita · 4 months
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Why don't you allow them to do dubbing for you?
While a few people have been polite enough to ask and properly credit there’s a quite a few dubs that didn’t get permission, didn’t credit properly if at all… even credited the wrong person on purpose. And don’t get me started on people using AI voices to “dub” comics (also without crediting the source) . At least put in the effort. That’s just reposting art at this point :’> anyway it gets depressing when people say they’ve seen your art but couldn’t even find you because of that. I love the dubs that people were nice about tho 💖 it means a lot that they’d go out of their way to do that sincerely because they just liked the comics or contributed to the ideas somehow but yeah it got pretty overwhelming and bad after a while.
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luxaofhesperides · 6 months
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Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!
Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.
Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 
The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 
But this time, the summoning feels different.
Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.
“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 
“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”
Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.
“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”
“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.
“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”
“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 
For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.
“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 
“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 
The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.
“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”
The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.
The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 
His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”
And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”
The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 
Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”
The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”
“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”
Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.
A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”
“Hold up that book for me, please?”
She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.
“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.
“Is there a problem, Great One?”
Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.
“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”
“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.
“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”
Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.
Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.
“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”
Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”
“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 
“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”
“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”
“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.
He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”
“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”
“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.
“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.
“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”
Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”
“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”
“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”
“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”
“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”
The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”
“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”
She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”
“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.
Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”
“But you accepted.”
“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 
It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.
“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 
He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.
He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.
Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.
Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 
“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”
“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”
“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”
Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”
“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.
Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.
They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 
Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.
“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.
It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.
Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”
Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”
“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”
“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”
Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”
He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—
“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”
Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”
They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.
“...Put it off until tomorrow?”
Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”
“Sounds perfect.”
. . .
[send me a ghostlights prompt!]
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beesspacedotorg · 2 months
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Third Leg?
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Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?
Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always
notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.
to read: Dibs
In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.
“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.
“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.
“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.
“I want them to stop pushing.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.
-
“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.
“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.
“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell  me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.
“If?”
“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”
“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.
“That’s fine. I have another question though.”
“Hmm?”
“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.
“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.
“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.
“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.
“You’re mean.”
“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”
“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.
“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.
-
So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.) 
You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.
“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”
“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.
“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”
“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.
“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.
“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“To talk to Jeongin.”
“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.
“But-”
“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.
“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”
-
You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.
“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.
“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.
“Where are you going?”
“On a walk.”
“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.
“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.
“I want to talk to you.”
“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.
“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.
“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”
“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”
“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”
“I was new to the pack!”
“You’d been with us for three months!”
“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.
“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.
“Oh? I see.”
“Don’t be mean.”
“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”
“Minho said what?!”
“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.
“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room. 
“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.
“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.
“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.
He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.
You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.
“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.
“Innie-”
“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.
“Is that your leg?”
“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.
“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”
You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.
“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”
“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.
“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.
“Nothing.” He squints at you.
“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.
“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”
“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.
“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.
“Jeongin-”
“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”
“Innie, you’re not being fair-”
“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.
He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.
“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.
Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.
He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.
“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.
“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.
“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.
“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.
“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.
“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”
“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.
“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.
“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.
“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.
“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.
It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.
“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.
“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.
“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”
You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.
“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.
“The next one, though. I make no promises.”
The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.
“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.
“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”
“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.
“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.
“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”
“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.
“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”
“Hi, Chan, how are you?”
“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.
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euaphoric · 7 months
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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 2. 🕸️
Differences
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[PAIRING] haechan x f!reader
[GENRE] college au, popular jock x loner, pwp [WARNINGS] angst?, smut, lowkey perv!hc, dry humping, premature ejaculation
summary: haechan was everything you’re not: popular, wealthy, multitalented, and otherworldly attractive. you despise people that get everything handed to them, wanting nothing to do with him— until you get paired up as partners for a project together…
wc -> 2.2k
A/N: so uhhh, this was very much not supposed to be this long but sometimes i just keep going and don’t know when to stop tbh .-. alsoo i hit 1k followers today thanks sm it rlly means a lot 🫶🫶
kinktober m.list
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“fuckk, it’s pouring!” you shrill from the sudden heavy downpour, hovering your chemistry textbook over your head which barely shields anything. of course you didn’t predict these weather conditions (and didn’t bother to check your weather app beforehand) so you thought not to bring a jacket. it’s not like it was some light drizzle going on either, it was raining buckets outside— and you were so fucked. you pick up your speed, practically sprinting to the bus stop, completely forgetting that haechan was right behind this whole time. it honestly still hasn’t fully clicked in your mind that you were now lab partners and had to work together for the entire remaning semester. you weren’t thrilled about it, frankly, you were hoping anyone but haechan but since you have the worst possible luck known to existence, you got paired with him by a random draw. now you’re stuck with him for the next 3-4 months…
“damn, i think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard you curse,” haechan quickly catches up with you, taken aback by your choice of language, “wait- here, take this.” he pulls his football letterman jacket off his body, slinging it around your shoulders. “uh- no it’s okay, i’ll be fine.. don’t worry!” you shook your head to refuse but haechan just kept insisting, telling you how he was raised to be a ‘gentleman’ and it’d be morally wrong of him not to offer his jacket to a woman when it’s raining. “just take it y/n, it’s not gonna kill ya!” he promises, only satisfied once you finally cave in after numerous attempts going back and forth. you may have let him win this round but you definitely won’t be going easy on him next time, that’s for certain.
yeah haechan may be nice and all but that doesn’t make him a saint or any different than everyone else, he’s just a regular guy to you, nothing more or less. you’ve known him for a grand total of 2.5 days and on the first day of class you just so happened to be assigned as permanent lab partners with him — the most popular guy at uni practically. haechan was the topic of every girl’s discussion, whether it was wondering if he came from a loaded family, is single or has a girlfriend, or how he can afford a $4,500 pair of sneakers, theres always a spotlight drawn to him somehow. frankly you didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of that stuff, you didn’t care much to make a lot of friends nor socialize with everyone. ever since middle school you’ve preferred to be alone, it’s not something you’re embarrassed about, you just value your education more than temporary friendships.
when it was announced that you’d be partners with haechan word spread around quickly, you couldn’t stand attention being cemented on you but haechan simply thrived off that notion. he craved all the gossip about him because he’s an attention whore— at least, that was your impression of him when you first met. you personally have no interest in getting to know him further than finishing this project, he probably has dozens of girls in his phone he can call to hook up with every day if he wanted to. ‘it’s just for one semester y/n you can do this… you’ll be fine.’ you keep telling yourself over and over. after what felt like ages the bus finally came, saving you from standing in silence with him any longer than necessary. soon as the door opens you make a dash for it, scanning your bus pass and looking for a seat within the crowded aisles. there just so happened to be 2 free open seats near the back so you scurry to sit down as haechan follows, taking the seat next to yours.
just as you were about to put in your airpods and shut out the world, haechan turns over to ask something. “so.. why’d you want me to come to your dorm instead of mine?” his face gets unreasonably close to you, completely invading your personal space. “it’s just.. more quiet i guess.” you awkwardly reply, slowly backing away from his overbearing presence. you must admit though, whatever cologne he was wearing smelled really good. “why’re you assuming that my place would be loud? do me and my friends really seem like that much of obnoxious assholes?” he cocks his eyebrow, confused by your lack of enthusiasm. it’s not unusual for haechan to be uninterested in someone but it’s pretty rare for him to find the opposite. the more you push him away the more he wants to know about you, your cold personality fueled a burning desire inside that he hasn’t felt in ages. it’s like having a one-sided crush, he enjoys the chase of going after what’s unattainable, he loves a challenge.
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“have you always been this quiet your whole life?” haechan proceeds to bother you yet again while you’re writing notes for the project down. you thought flat out ignoring him would work in your favor, he’s already asked about five questions already and you’ve yet to answer any of them — he doesn’t give up as easy as you thought however. “no seriously, did i do something? is there a reason why you act so cold towards me?” there he fucking goes again. if he actually paid attention he’d notice that you don’t exclusively treat him any differently than everyone else, you didn’t want a partner for this project and rather work on it alone from the start. he’s so full of himself that he can’t even fathom the idea of someone not wanting to shower every ounce of their undying love and attention for him. “god… do you ever shut up?” you lowly mutter under your breath, getting up from your table to go grab something. thankfully you don’t think he heard you, all you got in return was a simple “huh?” still not acknowledging his other questions, you come back with a pumpkin spice candle, setting it on your window sill to light it. you may or may not have a slight obsession with candles, you’ve hoarded so many to the point you lost count but since it’s fall why not bring out your favorite scent of the season. plus it’ll ventilate the room so you don’t have to be reminded of haechan’s strong cologne, which you actually liked but refuse to give his already inflated ego such a compliment.
after an hour or so of drafting outlines for the project you take a break to get some water, coming back to your motionless partner with a bored look on his face. he made a few contributions but you mostly did the work, which you don’t mind doing anyway since you’re confident in your academic abilities. you’ve been sensing haechan’s eyes on you all night, as you took a sip from the glass you feel the most intense awkwardness, you’re hoping he asks something dumb at this point. “are you a virgin?” he blurts out on a whim. you almost spit out your water, there’s no way in hell he just asked you that. “wait— w-what?” all of a sudden you’re a flustered mess and can’t talk properly, why would he want to know something so personal like that anyway? “ah, so you do talk!” haechan belts out a chuckle, gloating in his small victory, “i just wanted a reaction out of ya and finally got it!” you wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face, maybe you were right to call him a pretentious asshole the first day you met. “y’know i can report you to the board for asking your lab partner weird sexual questions, right?” you try your best to sound intimidating but it doesn’t seem to faze him one bit, instead he continues leaning in closer. “stop pretending like you don’t secretly like it,” your skin collects goosebumps when his palm lands on your thigh, “‘cause for someone who supposedly doesn’t like me is acting awfully comfy with me right now.” his grin widens as he looks down, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you realize both your legs were intertwined together under the table.
you shriek in a panic, scooting your chair away to the far end of the table, “in your fucking dreams. i actually don’t, perv.” scoffing at his boldness, this is definitely a guy who thinks he can have his way with anyone he wants. even if you did find him attractive that still doesn’t mean you inherently want to sleep him. his face is really pretty though, like way above average, you 100% get why he’s so popular and some part of you wants to find out what all the hype’s about. a little test drive wouldn’t hurt anything, right? “awe, you sound so cute when you swear,” he teases, yet again moving close to you with no regards of personal space, “would sound better if you were moaning it as i fill you up with my cock.” his eyes stare at your lips intensely, wanting more than anything to violently make out with you. that last sentence shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did, but you couldn’t help yourself anymore, you were done trying to fight it. as your lips crash into his, a surge of heat rushes through your body, tilting your head slightly sideways to gain more access. his soft lips felt buttery smooth against yours, melting instantly as he brings his hands to wrap around your waist firmly.
as you run your fingers along the entirety of his length, slowly rubbing his shaft through his jeans. you hear how pretty he sounds when he moans, loving every bit of it in your ear. you keep stroking and feeling haechan’s cock, choosing when to go slow or fast. it made you undoubtedly wet knowing someone like you could turn him on, feeling how stiff his cock got soon as you touched him, pulsating in the palm of your hand. his face scrunches as if he just sucked on a lemon, erratically rutting his hips up as his breathing gets heavier. “ah- shiiit..” he was so far gone, gritting his teeth from the intense pleasure when he suddenly jerks up from out of your grasp. “dammit, dammit, dammit” he whispers under his breath, you strike a confused look when he flinches from you trying to touch him again. it doesn’t make sense how eager he was just a minute ago but is now doing a literal 180. “i already came..” the guilt and embarrassment was apparent in his voice. how could a girl like you even make a guy cum just from simply touching them? he’s definitely had much more experience than you ever will. “i’m not a virgin, are you?” you decide to finally entertain his question, you’ve got nothing left to lose anymore. he definitely wasn’t expecting that answer at all, he was really hoping he could be your first. “yeah, me neither, but you sure do make me feel like one again ..” this is probably the first time something like this has ever even happened to him.
for the past 15 minutes you’ve been grinding up and down against haechan to get his dick hard again, which didn’t take long to do at all. closing your eyes in pleasure as his teeth grazed your skin, biting gently on the sweet spot of your neck. “nnghh~” you mewl, feeling so needy and helpless at the moment, all you could do was continue sensually rolling, massaging, and rubbing your aching core onto his clothed crotch. you really did want more but you couldn’t give it all up too easily, this is all he’s getting from you until you officially say so. “fuck.. feels ssoo gooood..” haechan groans, hips bucking at any slightest movement you make, he needs to fuck your tight cunt so bad. “y-yeah, feels good? wan’ m-more?” you brace your shaky hands on both his shoulders for leverage, feeling the tent in his pants stiffen as you rock your hips in sync with his. the fact you two were acting like some animals in heat, going at it and humping each other fully clothed was surreal to you. it had to be that intoxicating cologne he wore that reeled you in. as you were whimpering and crying out to him, haechan keeps expressing how much he needs you, how badly he wants to be inside. “need this throbbing little cunt to swallow my cock like right now.. i wanna be buried so deep inside.. need to feel your walls clench as you twitch and cum around my shaft, pretty please…” he grunts, already completely whipped and ready to risk it all for you. it didn’t take much for him to cum the second time either, granted he lasted longer than the first time but still wasn’t his best. the way you roll your hips and moan out his name was enough to get the blood rushing through his veins, pushed to his breaking point once again.
you came with him the second time, tangling your fingers in his messy brown hair. a string of curses leave your mouth as you chase your high, still slowly grinding on top of him as you rest your head on his shoulder. “now i understand why you’re so quiet..” he murmurs, veiny hands still finding purchase around your delicate waist. you of course wondered why, which he simply responded with “‘cause your actions do all the talking for you instead.”
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 18] || [Chapter 20]
Rating: E Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. handjobs/fingering (unspecified). ejaculation (mentioned). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: smut. smut. sweet. sweet. smut..
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Chapter 19: Slippery Slope.
“Fuck… Johnny…” You whine as his hand slowly strokes up and down, his fingers rubbing over every inch of your skin.
“Shh… The acoustics, bonnie…” He tells you. “The neigbours are goin’ t’ear ye.” He whispers.
“W-Well…!” You try to complain but the words die in your lips as your head dips back against his chest.
Your bathtub isn’t the biggest, but you and Johnny were able to fit yourselves inside, with him sitting behind you, spooning you. His thick, muscular arms are wrapped around you the same way they were at the shop a week ago, protective, warmth… strong.
He’s been surprisingly gentle this whole time, washing your body and helping get your back, his rough hands sometimes sliding and coping a feel of your skin as it was lathered up with soap.
Somehow that evolved into his hand being between your thighs, making you moan and squirm in his embrace. “Shh…” He keeps shushing you as if he’s not doing anything that should warrant them.
“Stop shushing me, Johnny…” You whine. “You’re so frustrating!” You grumble.
“Don’t be giving me lip now, bonnie…” He whispers as he bites your earlobe and then draws his lips down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder.
“F-Fuck…” You shiver as he sucks onto the skin right where you neck meets your collarbone, his tongue lapping at the skin as his fingers work you over.
The water’s getting cold, and your legs are the first feeling the change in temperature, propped up on the edges of the tub so he can keep touching you, while his own are barely contained inside.
But you don’t care. The pleasure he’s wringing out of you with surprisingly nimble fingers considering how thick and big they are makes you whine and moan, your sounds of pleasure echoing off the tile in the bathroom.
The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter with each second he spends playing with you, your legs trembling and your whole body twitching and squirming in his embrace as you chase your orgasm.
And when it finally crashes onto you, you jump a bit, almost headbutting Johnny in the process, your head falling back on his strong, hard shoulder, some water spilling over the edge of the bath.
His name falls from your lips as your eyes flutter closed and your panting becomes the only thing heard in your bathroom. He grunts behind you, clearly enjoying the sight of you coming undone, his face resting against your shoulder as he sighs against your back.
Once you’ve finally caught you breath, he kisses your shoulder. “That feel good?” He coos in your ear and carefully licks up a stripe from your neck to your jawline before peppering kisses around your jawline.
You nod at him, eyes still closed and sigh happily, snuggling into his warm, robus embrace. “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.” He murmurs with a chuckle.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed, the water’s getting cold.” He tells you as he moves up and presses a kiss to your temple.
That stirs you a bit from the moment and you look up at him. “But… You didn’t get anything…” You whisper.
“Oh, mo leannan…” He says with a playful smirk on his lips. “I literally just shot come all over your back.” He admits, causing your eyes to widen.
“You…” You say with shock and he immediately laughs at the look on your face. 
“Oh yeah. Why’d you think I said ‘let’s get you cleaned up and dressed’ and not just… ‘let’s get you dressed’?” He teases.
-
After the bath, he helps you both get dressed and takes you back to the living room, snuggling up with you on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. 
Unlike with Kyle, who laid under you and let you rest between his legs against your chest - or Simon who you makes you sleep on his chest, with one arm around you - Johnny prefers to spoon you, the two of you fitting just so on the couch before one of you (aka you) are teetering on the edge.
He gives you one of his biceps to rest on, while his other arm wraps around your waist and stomach, his hand resting right on top of your sternum and carefully rubbing your chest. It’s not necessarily a dirty touch, but not an innocent one either.
You find yourselves dozing off, wrapped up in one another, the TV playing some silly action movie which, despite the loud explosions and gunshots, is surprisingly easy to tune out and sleep through.
It’s already dark outside when you stir awake. Johnny’s sleeping right behind you, his breath slow and even, his warm exhales tickling the back of your neck. The sitting room is completely dark, the TV playing some other movie now, lighting everything in a blue-ish light.
Atop the coffee table is a phone, vibrating and buzzing, the screen lit up with a phone call. Still groggy, you grab the phone, assuming it’s your own, and flick the green button to accept the call without looking at the number.
“Uhm, hello?” You greet before you force yourself to suppress a yawn.
“BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, I’VE BEEN CALLIN’ FOR AN HOUR!” A gruff, manly voice shouts on the other end. “WHERE ARE YOU?”
The shouts stirred you a bit more awake and made you stiffen. “Excuse me?!” You complain.
“Wait. Who’s this?” A gruff voice asks on the other end.
“I should be asking you, you’re the one calling me and losing your bloody mind shoutin’ at me?” You murmur in confusion, keeping your voice low to not wake up Johnny.
“And I’m asking you, because I know bloody well I called MacTavish and not… whoever you are.” The man you’re speaking with is rude, but his voice is… vaguely familiar.
That’s when your brain fog clears enough to allow you to realize that you just picked up Johnny’s phone, not your own.
“Oh, shite.” You grumble. “Sorry. I heard a phone ringing, I thought it was my phone-” You try to justify yourself.
“Oh, bloody hell, I’m sorry for yellin’ at you.” The man on the other end ends up saying, a bit more politely. “MacTavish’s with you?” He grumbles
“Yeah… He’s asleep…” You reply. “The phone was on Vibration.” You explain. “That’s probably why he didn’t wake up…” You explain.
“No wonder… I’ve called 42 times…” The male voice complains on the other end. “You mind waking him up and putting my damn soldier on the line?” He fails at his attempts at politeness.
And that’s when your brain fog clears even more. ‘My soldier’... The only person who’d call Johnny ‘his’ soldier is his captain.
“John?” You ask him in earnest. The memories of the night you spent with John come flooding back. Not that you ever forgot it, but you’ve been a bit more preocupied.
And that’s when John Price realizes who he’s speaking to as well, likely also remembering the way the dulcet of your voice called out his name while he buried himself inside of you. “Bloody fuckin’ hell…” He murmurs. 
After a brief pause to breathe, he speaks again. “Hi, darling.” He ends up saying.
“Hi, John.” You say softly in return.
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bakubunny · 8 months
Text
bnha: saying, “thank you, daddy,” during sex
18+ content. mdni. minors & blank blogs will be blocked.
yagi | shota | hizashi | izuku | eijiro | hitoshi | shoto | iida | denki | fumikage | katsuki
a/n: thank you so much for 200+ followers! i ended the poll just a tad early because i’ve got a busy day. i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, and i’ll see you with the next piece! 💜 bunny
tags: aged up characters, multiple orgasms, begging, verbal teasing, pleasure dom!eijirou, pregnancy mention (izuku), breeding kink mention, rough sex, daddy kink (obvs), mommy kink mention, name calling: slut, pet names, implied sexual trauma mention (shouto)
small note that none of these were written to have massive age gaps, but read them however you like. :)
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yagi. do i really need to explain this one? (again?) fine, fine. he’d never really thought about it until you called him “daddy” once out of the blue in a non-sexual way; now he can’t stop fisting his cock to thoughts of hearing your sweet voice moaning “daddy” over and over while you grasp tightly to him until neither of you can think. sure, he’s very vanilla, but that doesn’t mean your sex life is lacking or that he’s not willing to try new things. the first time you whimper a soft, “thank you, daddy,” while looking him in the eyes in the middle of it, he’s surprised and blushes hard, but he loves it. he kisses you tenderly and fucks you hard but sweetly. yagi aches to take care of you in the sweetest ways in every aspect of life. he’s lived a hard life and carried the world on his shoulders for decades. let the man live and love him deeply, feed that desire. he deserves rest, and your tender, shaky, soft voice can give him that.
shota. hooo boy. buckle up, you’re in for a man you’ve never seen before. he grabs you hard by the hair or the face and makes you look at him. he has a look in his eyes that strikes fear into you and makes you melt at the same time. “that’s fucking right, babygirl, you thank daddy when he fucks you. say it again." his hands grip tighter and are rougher and stronger than you expected. i hope you’re ready for multiple rounds, being sore the next day, and possibly a red ass and a few bruises. may or may not have a breeding kink that suddenly rears its head if you try this (i’m undecided).
hizashi. it’s like he was expecting it, and not in a, “yeah, you better thank me,” kind of way. a switch flips, and you realize that he’s been waiting for you to get on his level the whole time because he’s been trying to draw this out of you for months without saying it. he might seem aloof sometimes, but you know he’s got great social and emotional intelligence. it’s almost like he knew “daddy” was on the tip of your tongue from the first time he laid eyes on you, but he’s surprisingly patient and will wait until you call him that first before making it a regular thing. you finally let, “thank you, daddy,” slip out during sex? he’s caressing your face saying, “there she is, that’s my sweet girl. say it again, love…. such a good little listener.” next thing you know he’s adding little notes like, “Daddy loves you ;)” to the lunch you left in the fridge for the next day, and you’re blushing at work, trying to hide it from your coworkers unless you eat alone.
eijiro. if you say that in general, he gets a lot rougher, but his praises and encouragement get sweeter (for the most part). i’d say eijiro either gets more desperate, much like i wrote here, or it pulls that dominant streak out of him with a vengeance, so watch out. he’s not necessarily a daddy, but say you try this on pleasure dom!eijiro? you’re in for a fucking trip if you utter the words, “thank you, daddy.” with the help of toys he’s gonna have you cumming more times than you thought possible - well into double digits - and make you thank him every single time. “c’mon, pretty girl, just one more for me, hmm?… that’s my good girl. you can do it…. i know, it feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” meanwhile, the most you can give him by the end of it is a string of moans with a nod or a head shake if you’re lucky.
izuku somehow becomes needier and more dominant while also turning into a damn puddle. he’s might just wind up thanking you while fucking you harder because he didn’t realize how much he’d love hearing that come out of your mouth. “oh fuck, angel, you’re so sweet to me. daddy loves you so much.” he will probably fuck you stupid every day for at least a week just to hear you say it again. assuming you’re well into your relationship and have discussed kids, be prepared for him to softly mumble in your ear. “daddy’s gonna make you a mommy someday. you wanna be a mommy for me, princess? you’ll look so fucking gorgeous, baby. i can’t wait,” because izuku is a family man to the core. there’s no way he’s not thinking about you barefoot, pregnant, and bent over the kitchen counter if you call him daddy in any context.
hitoshi is going to tease the shit out of you for it in bed and out. “what’s that, slut? i didn’t quite hear you…. ‘thank you, daddy?’” he chuckles and wraps a hand around your neck, his violet eyes glimmering. his voice is soft and a little condescending as he leans in. “thank you is fucking right, kitten. say it again…. louder, slut. daddy wants to hear you,” hitoshi taunts with a grin. “it’s a good thing you’re cute when you thank me.”
shoto. oh, honey. please do both of you a favor, and gently ask him first. he’s got so much trauma around his actual shithead of a father that pulling smth like this without forewarning has a chance of not only killing the mood, but sending shoto into a tailspin for weeks wondering if he’s anything like enji in bed. and i don’t need to explain why that would terrify him, do i? if he wants to try it, it would likely happen while you’re riding him or maybe giving him a top tier blowjob; let him experience how enthusiastically you want him when you let those words fall out, and he might get hooked. be prepared, though. if it goes well, he may grab your hips/head and fuck you relentlessly. if it doesn’t, there may be a lot of quiet snuggling and consoling him for several days that, unequivocally, yes, he makes you feel so loved, and you truly enjoy every intimate moment you have with him. it wouldn’t hurt to remind him of that even if he ends up loving it. however, talk to him in just the right way and treat him so very well like the sweetheart he is tho? “thank you, mommy,” (or some other title) may slip out of his mouth, let’s be honest.
tenya is very confused. i’m so sorry lmao. there’s going to be an awkward conversation mid-sex. once you explain the appeal to him, he’ll probably be on board to try it again and initiate the next time you fuck. “thank me when i fuck you, baby. let me hear it.” warning: there’s a slight chance he’ll develop a breeding kink if you keep this up.
denki is kind of blindsided but he’s not mad about it. he never thought he’d hear that from you because he’s so much leaner and goofier and softer than his friends. he’s more than okay with that, but in his mind that doesn’t equate to “daddy.” hearing those words on your lips, the look on your pretty face, and the way your tits move while he’s fucking you does him in, to be honest. he’s moaning and loses himself a little bit. he asks you to say it again maybe once or twice, making sure you orgasm before he blows because he’s going to cum the next time you say it.
fumikage. is it possible for him to somehow become even more tender and loving while absolutely destroying your cunt with a hand wrapped firmly around your throat? you’re not sure, but you’re about to find out. dark shadow wraps the two of you up inside themself, intensifying the intimacy of the moment. “again, darling…. you are so precious to me. nothing compares to your sweet voice.” daddy kink may or may not be his thing; he’s still figuring that out. what he does know is that he loved the intimacy and vulnerability of that moment with you, and he needs more of it. if he hasn’t realized it yet, he may come to the conclusion that a D/s dynamic is the way to find what he’s looking for.
katsuki is a bit of a wild card. every time, he’s either going to melt on the spot or fuck you into another realm of existence. or both. you are far from the first to have said this spontaneously (he looks like a model, he’s strong as hell, and he’s one of the top pro heroes, what do you expect?), but katsuki is pretty damn sure you’ll be the last. first time: maybe one day he’s fucking you hard. you can’t explain it, but something about whatever he’s doing or the way he looks at you makes you want to beg to cum. so you get achingly close, and you do. “please, can i cum, kats? please? i need your cock so fucking bad, please.” he’s thrown off for a split second until he sees your needy, fucked out face. you ask again, and then he’s right there with you. “yes, cum for me, baby.” a rush crashes over your body and the words slip out before you can stop them, just before you cum. “thank you, daddy.” and you cum hard. it’s not long until he’s groaning into your skin about you being “such a good fucking girl” as he fills you.
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dizscreams · 11 months
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Romantic headcanons with lil ol hobie
Absolutely 🫡
Romantic Headcanons with Hobie Brown — ★
I don’t think you guys would go out for dates I think a lot of the time it’s hanging out in each others room
Like he’s strumming his guitar and you’re studying or drawing whatever JUST YES
I think he’d definitely prefer that than taking you out to a fancy restaurant or smth like that
Maybe even movie nights?
Random thought but a little self care night 🤭
Maybe face masks (which he was reluctant to do but you made him anyway), painting each others nails, etc etc
Not really self care but him helping you dye your hair!!! Can’t get that thought out of my head
OMG SHOPPING WITH HIM!! You dragging him shopping and he acts like he doesn’t wanna be there but he actually kinda likes helping you pick out stuff
Don’t even get me started on you making him carry all of your bags or you showing off to him in the dressing room 👀
UGH OMG I HAD A CUTE THOUGHT!! One time he watched you do your makeup and he wanted to learn how to do eye liner
So you taught him one day and he likes doing eye liner every now and again
Maybe you were on his lap and did it for him one day! (He wouldn’t let you do a full face of makeup on him though 😔)
Likes picking out jewelry for your outfits
If you guys are opposites I can see a lot of playful arguments about each others music tastes
He definitely likes at least one song you showed him but wont admit it cause he’s stubborn!
If we’re gonna talk about physical touch I’d say he likes it just definitely not in public
Maybe a hand on your shoulder sometimes but other than that I’m not sure
In private though he’s always leaning his head on your shoulder or putting his head on yours
Likes to tease and make fun of you
Jokingly ofc he’d never let it go too far
He issss in a band so ofc you’re going to almost every performance of his
Veryyy protective when it comes to his job and you
Doesn’t like letting you come to fights with him or trying to help cause he’s terrified you’re going to get hurt
If you’re also a spider person you guys make a rlly good duo
He’s just a really laid back guy in general so he doesn’t raise his voice at you
Maybe on accident a few times but he always apologizes ofc
He’s respectful 🫡
OMG RANDOM BUT NAPPING TOGETHER
WHEWWW imagine you both got done with a fight and you just need to rest so you take a nap together! Or if you’re not a spider person then you both had a hard day and wanted to take a nap together
I don’t think he gets jealous thaaat easily. Like someone would have to be THROWING themselves at you and he’ll step in.
He wouldn’t be starting fights or drama honestly I think he’d just wrap an arm around your waist and walk away with you
I think he’ll go on random tangents about stuff he’s interested in or even abt stuff he doesn’t like 😭
You’re just listening to him like “yeah totally” because he’s talking so fast
He’s proud of your guy’s relationship and he’s caught himself talking about you a lot to his friends
He tries to shut up before they say anything but they’re already teasing him
BUT ID SAY OVERALL he’s just a really chill dude who likes spending time with his partner :)
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All I can think of rn so I hope you enjoyed! and ty for all the requests I’ll be working on them all day <3 🫡
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noras-dc-shenanigans · 10 months
Text
Adoption | Learn
“So let me get this straight.”
Danny stared at the group of vigilantes in front of him, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.
“Batman had a baby with Catwoman, she hid it from him, gave the baby up for adoption, and that baby is me. And you’re all here because Batman’s other ex also had a hidden pregnancy, but she’s a homicidal maniac who wants to make sure her son is the only blood child because of some weird cult rules?”
If they’d been in a cartoon, there’s be crickets chirping. He continued, voice growing less disbelieving and more angry as he went.
“And because some cult wants to kill me, I have to give up my whole life, cut off all contact with my family and friends, go live in a state 900 miles away, and stay cooped up— for an unknown amount of time— in Bruce Wayne’s mansion, because that’s who Batman really is.”
A stilted silence filled the room of the safe house Danny had been dragged to a few hours ago, sans the unnecessarily long explanation he’d just summarized.
After a few more moments, Nightwing stepped forward and smiled gently at him an oh, that rankled Danny. He did not need whatever kid gloves the guy was about to pull on. Before Bluebell had a chance to open his mouth, Danny channeled his inner Jazz and raised his hand for silence. Nightwing paused, and Danny proceeded to give them all a single, flat, unimpressed look, and then stated factually,
“I’m not leaving, I’m not staying with yet another frootloop billionaire, and I’m not in the least concerned with dying. So. You can all go back to where you belong, I’ll stay here, where I belong, and if any cultist come knocking I’ll deal with them just like I’ve been dealing with every other threat in this town the last six months: alone. Because apparently the entire Justice League is too busy to respond to calls for help about inter-dimensional threats popping in and out of my parents basement on a daily basis.”
… Okay, so Danny may have been yelling a bit by the end, but it was justified! And oh, Danny really wished his life was a cartoon right now, because that cricket chirping would be been perfect. He’s pretty sure he broke a few of them. Nightwing looked ready to cry.
Good. Danny was too tired to deal with this sh*t.
Thanks to the whole Pariah Dark thing last month, Danny was apparently immortal now anyways, so even if the cult people managed to completely destroy his body, he’d just reform in the Zone. Because he was now connected to it, and only another ghost could End him like he had Pariah, because of some weird dimensional rules. Apparently, since humans couldn’t rule the Infinite Realms, they just, like… didn’t qualify to kill him. That went for aliens, demons, gods, and other non-human beings of sentience.
So Danny’s got that going for him at least. About time something useful came outta this whole disaster of a school year.
But he’d gotten off track. Before him stood a truly ridiculous number of vigilantes, and they all looked like he’d just slapped them with a fish and then played violin with it. For a few minutes, Danny just basked in the stuttering and bewildered looks, before he noticed Nightwing drawing himself up in righteous determination and decided that yeah, he was done now.
At this point, being a dramatic a**hole to people (or ghosts) who were annoying him was just second nature, so he straightened to attention, raised his hand in a salute, and then let himself sink through the floor, perfectly stoic.
The stuttering turned to panicked shouts, and Danny’s last view of his apparent siblings was a few people lunging for him and missing, winding up tangled together on the carpet.
‘Ahhhh, yesss, I will treasure that memory always! Ah well, time to get home! Maybe I should scout out for those cult people, mess around with them. Maybe follow them back sometime, meet my half-brother. That could be fun, me and Ellie can make a road trip of it this summer! Maybe by then, the Justice Losers will have gotten their heads out as their butts.’
Meanwhile, back at the safe house, several frantic calls were being made about the dimensional threats and the League of Assassins and the possibly meta human, definitely vigilante brother.
Amity Park was about to get a lot more chaotic.
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titanic-angel · 11 months
Text
нoвιe вrown х gn!reader
⁎︎✰︎—『ѕтιcĸ n' poĸe』︎—︎✰︎⁎︎
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ѕynopѕιѕ: нoвιe gιveѕ yoυ yoυr ғιrѕт тaттoo.
warnιngѕ: nυdιтy (semi-sexual), ѕwearιng
noтeѕ: ιтѕ вeen ιn мy нead ғorever, pleaѕe enjoy ❤︎
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“Ow- shit HOBS!”
You eyebrow stuck together, nails digging into the cream sheets. You leaned you head back, closing your eyes as you pushed into the pillows that propped you head up.
You heard Hobie scoff, eyes still trained on the skin below your belly button. “Yer such a baby.”
You moved your head up, glaring at the menace who hovered over you. One gloved hand steadied your hip, the other holding a needle embedded into your skin. Even through the cheap plastic, his warmth made your skin tingle. His classic shit-eating grin crinkled his cheeks, eyes still trained on your stomach, well aware you were staring him down.
His wicks were pulled back, the screen of his phone making his piercings shimmer. His eyebrows were a little furrowed- focused on the design. Aside from his tensed face, his body was relaxed and calm, almost drowsy.
He was so fucking pretty.
“What’s wit’ th’ starin doll.”
You raised your eyebrows, suddenly the world around you becoming a lot more focused. “Hm? I wasn’t staring.”
Hobie met your eyes for the first time in 30 minutes, only for them to harbor doubt. His grin was gentler now, and the stillness of the room soon became incredibly loud.
He shrugged, looking back at your stomach. “Whateva you say.”
Another shot of pain went up your spine and you gasped, clamping your lips shut. Hobie chuckled below you. “So sensitive.”
“This is my first time- Hobs.” You hissed through your clenched teeth.
He met your gaze again, this time his classic suggestive grin spreading on his face like butter.
You rolled your eyes. “Not like that- you perv.”
“Oi, I didn’t say nothin’.”
You leaned your head back, feeling the beads of sweat collect under your neck. Was it stupid to get your first tattoo on your stomach- on the pelvis no less? Maybe. But hey- it sure as hell looked cool. However, now that you’re laying on the bed with sore muscles from tensing them this whole session, you began to regret your decision.
Hobie moved his hands up to you waist, then slid down back to your hip. “Try and relax- yeah? I’m almost done.”
You sighed harshly, partly frustrated with yourself, but also with Hobs.
Your mind floated to the conversation you had a couple days ago, laying on his bed, your clothes scattered across his flat.
▔︎▔︎▔︎▔︎
You heard the familiar rustling of his pants being put on, the click of the belt and the snap of his boots.
You scrolled through your phone, eyes half lidded in drowse, the smell of incense wafted between the two of you. You couldn’t be bothered to put your clothes on, his sheets feeling much too soft.
Hobie, despite his rough and ragged persona, had one of the comfiest flats you’d been in. Layered with cotton and satin chairs and sofas, most likely stolen. His bed, however, was the epitome of it all.
Softest sheets that were never too hot and never too cold, and a comforter that smelled exactly like him. Pillows with patterns that did not compliment each other well, but extremely comfortable none the less.
Your eyes drifted to his back. Small little drawings- some silly and others with more meaning- scattered across his toned muscle.
You were not in the slightest embarrassed about staring at your boyfriend (unless he caught you), which meant you knew nearly every detail about his body. But, sometimes things surprised you. This time, it was his tattoos.
His shirt slipped over them, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips.
He turned to you, smirking, “I can take it back off if yer really that desperate.”
Your eyebrows knitted in protest- nose wrinkling in the way that he liked. “I’ll pass- but uhm..”
He sat on the bed, facing you with lidded eyes.
“Yeah?”
“I think I want a tattoo.”
His eyes widened with surprise. “Eh? Since when?”
“Since now.”
He blinked, his mouth twisting into a grin. The idea excited him- he always thought you’d look hot with ink. Maybe it was a little selfish to indulge in his fantasies, but hey- you offered first.
“I’m pr’tty good them, y’know. All it takes is a stick n’ a poke.” You laughed, leaning your head on your palm.
“You know what? Why not.”
He leaned forward, placing a giddy kiss on your lips. You savored the taste of him- musky and smokey. He backed away, eyes drifting from your lips to your body.
“Where do ya’ want it?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know- you pick.”
He raised a brow at you, a challenge.
“Ya’ sure?
You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. He smiled back, less sweetly. Something in your head told you that maybe you should’ve picked, but the cogs in his head were already turning. It was too late to change your mind.
He flipped you over, your bear body now completely exposed. However, there wasn’t anything sexual about the way his eyes trailed down your body. As he looked for a spot he liked, you smiled up at him, admiring how cute he was when he was focused. He didn’t like it when you called him that- didn’t match his rough and rumble, but who was gonna stop you from thinking it?
He smirked, before placing a warm hand below your belly button.
“Here.”
You sat up on your elbows, sending him a skeptical look. “You really want my first tattoo to be above my junk?”
He looked back at you, chuckling at your use of ‘junk’. “Why not.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You just think it’ll be sexy, don’t you.”
He shrugged. “Nothin’ wrong with sexy, darlin. But no- I’d never.”
You raised your eyebrow at him, before groaning and sitting up to meet him in the middle. You could feel his breath against yours, eyes locked.
On one hand, you were terrified of putting something so permanent on your body. But on the other, Hobie was right. It did kinda make you feel like a badass.
“Alright- fine. But I get to pick the design.”
“Deal.”
You sealed the promise with a kiss. He leaned you back into the pillows, and you laughed into his mouth, weak hands pushing him back. “Hobs we have to-“
“Shhhh. Jus’ lemme kiss you.”
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“Done.”
Hobie’s voice broke you from your thoughts. In excitement you sat up, but quickly laid back down when and ache prickled at your abdomen.
He laughed above you, setting the tools on your makeshift tray (a kitchen plate) and crawled up to meet your mouth.
“You’re gonna have to wait a minute darlin.”
You glared at him. “You suck.”
He faked gasped, laughter in his eyes as he leaned in closer. “How could you say that to yer devoted artist!”
You rolled your eyes. “I deeply apologize, from the bottom of my heart.” You milked your apology, your own shit-eating grin spreading across your face.
He smiled down at you. “Yer funny.”
“I know.”
He kissed you, and suddenly the pain didn’t feel as bad anymore. His course hands drifted up your hips, your waist, your ribs, then to your-
You grabbed his hands, pulling away from the kiss and gave him a knowing look. “You said I have to wait- so you do too.
He groaned, kissing your cheek and moving down to your neck. “Consider ‘t aftercare?”
You laughed, cupping his cheeks and making him look at you. “No. It’s prolly gonna mess up your masterpiece anyway.”
He flopped beside you, nearly pouting. You giggled, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the pain starting to subside.
“Hey darlin?”
“Yes Hobie?”
“Yer…uh. You were right- about me pickin’ th’ spot cus it looked sexy.”
You slapped his chest and he laughed, taking your hand in his. He turned to you, brown eyes sparkling with mischief and something he doesn’t care to admit.
“It also looks pretty badass.”
“Hobie that’s like- the same thing in your book.”
He laughed. “Yeah,” his hand interlocked with yours, eyes moving to the ceiling.
“I guess yer right.”
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hope you enjoyed ❤︎
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
Music To Watch Girls To
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!
a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!
Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey
warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.
It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.
She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.
Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.
They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.
Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.
And it became a tradition.
You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.
The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.
After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.
“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”
“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.
“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”
Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.
“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”
She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.
“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”
“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”
“I’ll punch you.”
“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”
She glares at you.
Matty coughs to hide a laugh.
“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”
“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.
“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.
You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.
—-
Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.
You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.
It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.
She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.
“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.
“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.
“Well, I’m scared.”
He looks at you and frowns.
“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”
You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”
He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.
“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”
He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.
You stick out your hand and he grabs it.
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”
“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”
Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.
“You’re no fun,” you pout.
“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”
“I need a dagger.”
“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”
“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”
She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”
She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.
But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.
“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”
She hesitates for a second.
“Keep it.”
You look at her. “I can give it back.”
“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”
“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.
—-
Your position on capture the flag is always the same.
Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.
The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.
It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.
After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.
“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”
“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”
“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”
Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.
There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.
“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”
“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.
Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
—-
The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.
You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.
Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.
It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.
You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?
When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.
“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”
You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.
Clarisse turns around.
“Stop. Worrying.”
You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”
She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.
“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.
They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.
She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”
“Then tell me what’s going on.”
She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.
“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”
“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”
She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.
“D-don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”
You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.
“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”
“Who’s a baby.”
“-attacked us last night.”
You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”
She doesn’t answer that.
“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”
“Why?”
“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”
“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”
“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”
She smiles, looking at you.
“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.
—-
The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.
“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”
You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”
She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”
“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.
“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”
You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.
You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.
True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.
Her spear sinks into the dirt.
“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”
“We know.”
You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.
“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”
She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.
She laughs a bit.
He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.
“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”
His stance isn’t even close to correct.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”
Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.
She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.
But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.
She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.
“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”
The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.
“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”
Percy grunts and takes off running.
“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.
“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.
Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.
“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.
She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.
Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.
You draw your bow again, out of habit.
The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.
You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.
She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.
They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.
But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.
But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.
You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.
Her face twists into something else.
“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.
He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.
It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.
They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.
Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?
Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”
“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.
You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.
“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.
You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”
He looks between you and Clarisse.
“O-okay,” he breathes.
You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.
But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.
It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.
Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.
Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.
You were stupid to think she ever did.
But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.
You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.
You mouth her name.
Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.
Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.
Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.
Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.
You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.
You all turn around.
The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.
Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.
She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.
—-
The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.
Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.
Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.
Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.
She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.
Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.
You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.
“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.
“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”
She hums.
“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”
You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.
Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.
Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.
“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.
You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”
“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.
“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”
She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”
“No, thanks, it’s fine.”
“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”
Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.
If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.
“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.
Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.
“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”
“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.
“Then what’s it about?”
You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.
“What’s it about, Y/N?”
She holds your hand to her chest.
You both know what it’s about.
“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”
She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.
“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”
She grips you tighter again.
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”
Your breath is a little shaky again.
“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”
“For you.”
“What?”
“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”
You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.
“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”
Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.
“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”
“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”
She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.
You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.
She pulls back and smiles.
“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”
“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.
There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.
Fuck.
—-
clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️
—-
y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP
—-
clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING
y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP
—-
clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE
—-
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just-jordie-things · 3 months
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cherry blossom - inumaki toge
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
word count: 9.3k warnings: shibuya mentions, toge says some words bc i'm not god ok, drinking summary: you've always had all the time in the world to figure out what you were to each other. falling in love is meant to be slow and sweet, after all. more info: friends to lovers, fluff without plot really (yeah i'm making that a thing)
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ what you don’t tell no one, you can tell me // little ghost, tall, tan like milk and honey // you’re very brave, and very free ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Inumaki Toge was very close with all of his friends.  He cherished them in ways he could only dream of vocalizing.  Instead, with his cursed speech, he was limited to smaller forms of appreciation to show them how he cared.  Remembering Yuuta’s favorite drink, punching Maki on the shoulder to tell her she did a great job, passing notes with Panda to pull off a silly prank- his love language was an odd one for sure, but it never went unnoticed.  His friends cared for him just as much.
(y/n) was different, though.
It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one- even without the ability to voice it, it would have been useless to try.  There was no denying the way that he treated her, the way he looked at her, it was unlike all the others.  If she was speaking, his attention was on her, even in a crowded room, even if someone was talking over her, Toge listened to every word, actively engaged in whatever the topic was.
He always sat next to her, always picked her as a training partner, always reached out to her first when making a plan, she lived on the front of his mind rent free, and Toge was more than content to let her.
“Funny, or sad?” She asks him now, drawing him out of his dreamy thoughts and bringing him back to reality.  She’s perched at the end of his bed, two dvd cases in either hand presented to him.  His gaze shifts between the two as he mulls it over.
If he chooses funny, then he’ll get to hear her giggles for the next two hours, followed by her pretty voice repeating all her favorite lines to send her into fits of laughter again.  He likes that option.
But the other movie in her hand is a favorite of hers.  He wouldn’t describe it as sad as she had, but the uplifting message did tug at the heartstrings, and he’s caught her crying over it multiple times in the few years he’s known her.  So he gestures to that one, reveling in the way she lights up before she’s getting off the bed in order to get his dvd player setup.  
It was actually her dvd player, Toge was more of a Netflix guy, but with her collection of movies and the frequency at which she hauled it all over to his room, they’d silently decided to just leave it in his room.  Sure, it might have been easier for them to have movie nights in her room where she didn’t have to unplug the Xbox every time to watch a movie, but Toge would never suggest such a thing, and she’s never brought it up either.  He likes having some of her things in his room.  
For a little while, it could help him feel like they were living a more domestic, normalized life.  Sometimes, he would set up her movies from that week on his shelf in alphabetical order, or fold up the blanket she’d left behind, and he could pretend that things were… different.
“I’ll have to add a box of tissues to the pile” She says, eyeing the plastic bag of snacks that the two of them had just gone out for.  
It was routine at this point, rush out to the convenience store, buy more snacks than they agreed on, and then rush back to campus to get the movie started before it was too late.  These were his favorite days.
With her back turned as she got the dvd player plugged in, Toge clicked his tongue to get her attention.  She glances back at him right away, her curious look blooming into a full, beautiful smile as he raises a little plastic package of tissues, wiggling it in the air happily.
“You’re perfect!” She laughs to herself before going back to the console, placing the disk inside with an eager little dance.  
Toge thinks it’s adorable that she’s so excited to watch a movie that will make her cry.  He could be biased though- he thinks everything she does is adorable.
Once the movie starts, she’s quick to jump back onto the bed, crawling up into the space beside him, snatching up the back of treats on the way.  Toge watches her, it’s only the opening credits playing anyways, it’s not like he was missing anything yet.  (y/n) catches his eye, raising a brow as she tilts the bag towards him.
There’s not exactly a way for him to tell her that his staring was just because he liked when she didn’t tuck her hair back and it fell in that messy way it did, not because he was waiting for his turn with the snack bag.  So he gives her a lopsided smile and takes the offering.
“If you open the chips I want some” (y/n) hums, her eyes already back on the screen as the movie begins.  Toge chuckles, pulling out the green bag of sour cream and onion flavored chips, even though he’d been eyeing the package of chocolate chip cookies.
(y/n) turns to him again, this time with a mock pout on her lips.
“Are you laughing at me?”
It makes him laugh a little more, even as he’s shaking his head to convince her otherwise.  He opens the bag of chips and tilts it towards her as a peace offering.  She gladly accepts it, her frown melting back into her syrupy smile as she snatches a few chips and settles in again to watch the movie.
As expected, she’s tearing up before anything’s really happened yet.  Toge knows she’s already thinking about the real tear-jerking moments later on.  Her emotions sometimes overwhelmed her- not just when watching heartwarming movies, but with handling the everyday things that came with the life of a jujutsu sorcerer.  It was hard when one of her closest friends was sent away on long assignments overseas, it was hard when there were casualties on assignments, it was hard training every day and trying to be better, all the while doubting herself and her abilities.
There were some times that she’d come by and they wouldn’t lounge around watching movies.  Sometimes she’d visit him just to sit quietly and take in the comfort of his presence.  Toge never minded these days.  He was just relieved that there was some way he could help her feel better- although he didn’t always understand what it was that worked.  It’s not like he could talk her down from the bad feelings, all he really did was sit there, maybe hold her hand if she needed, often listening to whatever was on her mind.
“He’s the one that makes me think of you” (y/n) points to the screen when a new character pops up.  A teenager, with shaggy, jet black hair, and a perpetual frown on his face as he’s on screen.
Toge mirrors the frown, turning to (y/n) with furrowed brows as he awaited a proper explanation.  She only giggles to herself as she continues munching on her snack, not bothering to explain how a character who looks and behaves nothing like him could possibly have her making a connection between the two.
He started to wonder if it was time to change his hair again, but as the movie progressed, he began to understand.  The kid had taken a vow of silence, and hadn’t spoken a word the entire movie.  Yet somehow, his thoughts and feelings were portrayed perfectly.  As the viewer, Toge was never left wondering what was going through his head.  Admittedly, he grew attached to this character quickly, and he found his focus latching onto the plot now with fervor.
Noticing this, (y/n) smiled to herself as she tucked herself further into the pile of pillows behind her.  It always warmed her heart to see him take interest in the things she liked.  Maybe even too much.
It’s mostly quiet between them as the movie continues, they don’t like to talk too much during movies, only comments deemed important enough to share before the end, or the ask to pass the snacks.  They usually would have a discussion at the end anyways, sharing all of their thoughts and favorite parts with one another.
Soon enough the couple hours passed, the snacks were mostly deplenished, and (y/n) was half asleep, eagerly asking him how he liked the movie despite the tears in her eyes that she was still wiping away with the half-used supply of tissues.
He nods back at her, chuckling softly at the sight of her still being so teary eyed when the movie had ended ten minutes ago.  Her lip is still wobbly and even as she folds and re-folds the tissue to keep wiping away the trail of tears.
Toge maneuvers onto his side, facing her with a small smile before taking the tissue from her hands.
“Mustard leaf” He says quietly, before reaching back out and drying up the trail of tears that she’d missed, down her cheek, and then along her jaw.  She sniffles between a watery giggle.
“Thank you,” Her voice cracks, and she laughs quietly again.  “That movie is just too much sometimes,” She explains, and Toge hums in understanding.  This wasn’t nearly as bad when they watched Wall-E.  “But I love it, what did you think?” 
“Salmon roe” He replies with a larger beam, which she mirrors right away, before her head feels a little heavier on his pillow.
“Okay, good,” She murmurs before a yawn overtakes her, and Toge’s eyes widen in realization when she tucks the blanket over her shoulders.  She’s going to fall asleep.  He starts to move to shake her awake, one hand curling around her shoulder and tugging slightly, but she doesn’t respond to his silent pleas telling her to get up.  “I’m really glad you liked it, you can pick the movie next time though” 
Toge huffs when she shuts her eyes and nuzzles into the pillow again.  It’s no use.  She’s already drifting off right in front of him.
“Bonito flakes” He mutters.
“It’s alright,” (y/n) yawns again.  “Just wake me up in, like, twenty minutes and I’ll go back to my room so we don’t get in trouble” 
Toge already knows how that’s going to go, but she’s out like a light mere seconds later.  He hasn’t seen anyone fall asleep so quickly.
With another sigh, he turns off the tv and places the remainder of the tissue package on his nightstand along with the remote.  It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep on his back beside her, even when his brain is working overtime trying not to hyperfixate on her leg pressed against his, or her soft breaths fanning over his shoulder as she sleeps.
His dreams are pleasant, with soft swirls of warm colors, sweet sensations of gentle touches and the lingering scent of cherries and vanilla, melodious giggles and whispers made of but sugar coated words.  The kind of dreams that you wake up from and wish there were just a few more minutes to latch onto the remnants of the hazy feeling.
As expected, (y/n’s) still there when he wakes up the following morning- not that he’d tried all too hard to send her back to her own room last night.  He just couldn’t bear to disrupt her peaceful sleep beyond a few whispers of her name and pokes to her forehead.
She’s awake not long after him, but she settles back into the covers, murmuring a raspy good morning to him.  SHe doesn’t seem startled by the surprise sleepover in the slightest, and the nerves Toge had let fester the last ten minutes of sitting awake and waiting for her to wake up.
There were still a few minutes of her being in and out of sleep, but after a while she’s stretching and getting herself out of bed with the promise of grabbing them both pop tarts before they had  to start training for the day.
Toge perks up at the prospect of pop tarts, and she giggles at his obvious change in demeanor, before telling him she’ll be quick, and taking off from his room.
He knows he should be rushing around to get ready for the day, but he can’t  bring himself to get up from the bed just yet.  It’s too warm, too comfortable, too alluring with the lingering scent of cherry vanilla still clinging to the sheets.
His heart feels full as he settles back in for just a few more minutes.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
(y/n) felt love for all of her friends.  She always sort of had, it developed not long after meeting each and every one of them.  She loved Maki’s ambition, Panda’s humor, Yuuta’s passion, each and every one of them were simultaneously the greatest person she’s ever known.  Her friends were her livelihood, her reason for fighting, her reason for trying, she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay them for what they’ve done for her.  The love she held for them was the purest kind there was.
The love she held for Inumaki Toge was different, though.
She loved Toge the way she loved late spring, with the way the pretty pink cherry blossoms begin to bloom, and the cool breeze turns warm, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so gloomy and bitter all the time.  The sun seems to shine a little brighter and everyone seems to feel a little brighter, too.  It was exactly how loving Toge felt.
It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one, seeing as she could barely unglue herself from his side at any time.  If he entered a room, she would rush towards him.  If he came back from an assignment with an injury- no matter if it was life threatening or just a paper thin slice, she was patching him up with the utmost care Shoko’s infirmary could offer.  If Toge wasn’t around, she was texting him everything that was going on to keep him in touch.
There was nothing that brought her peace and joy quite like being around Toge.
She giggles as she tips her cup against her lips, sipping at the remnants of the drink she’d made only fifteen minutes ago.  Yuuta was sure to scold her when she wandered her way into the kitchen for the third time in an hour.
Toge’s laughter follows shortly after hers, although he’s not sure what exactly they’re giggling about, he just can’t help himself once she gets going.
His brows pinch together when he shakes his head, trying to ask her what it is that made her giggle fit erupt in the first place.  Once she’s calmed down enough to realize this, she grabs him by the shoulder.
At first his expression morphs into surprise, his eyes wide as he stares at her closely, before she’s swiveling him suddenly, guiding his eyes to the sight that was cracking her up.
Panda was in the common room, clearly feeling himself as he danced about, all slow twirls and raised arms.  He looks positively ethereal- in that loaded sort of way.
He’s quick to pull out his phone, setting his cup down to use both hands to steady the camera on Panda’s drunken ballet- or, attempt at ballet.  (y/n’s) giggling from beside him would definitely be caught in the video later, but neither of them minded, it only added to the humor of it all.
Maki must’ve noticed what they were up to, as she sneakily made her way over to the pill-shaped speaker, where she turned the volume up a few more notches.  This only excited Panda, who picked up the pace in his dancing.  (y/n) has to smack a hand over her mouth to stifle the cackle that erupts from her throat, but Toge doesn’t match her haste, and his laughter is almost louder than the music itself.
With a gentle smack to his shoulder, (y/n) shoots him a warning look, silently telling him to quiet down before Panda notices their recording.
Of course, Panda’s already noticed, his paws on his hips as he gawks at his so-called friends who were just making fun of him with their less than subtle camera pointed in his direction.
“Laugh it up, at least I’m having fun!” He points an accusatory finger at the two before turning his chin up with a dramatic flair.  Toge rolls his eyes, and just as he’s about to end the video, (y/n’s) face pops up on the camera.
“He’s right!” She says, a bit too loudly for standing right in front of him, but drinking always raised her volume.  She’s setting her cup down then, before reaching her free hand out to Toge, tugging on his wrist and disrupting the video that was still being recorded.  “We should dance!” 
“Mustard leaf!?” He replies, and she laughs, knowing it was his way of repeating ‘dance!?’ With uncertainty and surprise.
Her cheeks are pink, and he can’t make out if it’s because of the alcohol in her system, or if it was the brazen invitation of asking him to dance.  He’s not given much time to decipher it’s cause before she’s pulling harder at his wrist, and without another moment’s hesitation, Toge pockets his phone and follows her silent plea.  Distantly, he realizes she’s never had to work too hard to convince him of anything.
Maybe that was why they were all up far too late drinking together and dancing when they knew damn well that they had training bright and early tomorrow.
Panda’s cheering when (y/n’s) managed to drag Toge all the way into the common room where the music is playing the loudest.  He’s already resumed his twirling as if Fleetwood Mac is playing and not Joan Jett, but he’s enjoying himself, and no one is about to ruin his fun… again.
Toge’s never really danced before, besides the occasional sway from side to side, or a head bop.  So as soon as she starts swinging her hips and dragging his arm back and forth where she’s still got a grip on his wrist, he goes as stiff as a board.
It doesn’t take long before it dawns on her that he hasn’t been dancing, and she frowns at him, pulling at his arm to get him to come closer so she could talk to him.
“Why won’t you dance with me?” She asks, and it breaks his heart so completely that he can’t hide the way his face falls at her question.  (y/n) brightens up immediately, a string of bubbly laughter falling from her lips as she shakes her head.  “It’s not hard, just, move,” She says, shuffling her feet from side to side, her hips following in a languid motion.  “See?” 
He rolls his eyes at her, and she smacks his shoulder with her free hand, her semi-aggressive way of telling him he was making it a bigger deal than necessary, before both of her hands grab at his, and she guides him through the motions more properly.
The song that’s playing is upbeat, so she finds it easy to wave their arms together to the melody, while her hips keep the beat of the bass line.  After a few jolty movements on his part, he eventually begins to mirror, and just as she thought, he gets the hang of it and doesn’t look so awkward dancing with her.
(y/n) can’t wipe her grin off her face as she continues to move their hands about in sporadic motions, sometimes to the beat, sometimes at random.  Toge just latches his hands onto hers and lets her do whatever she pleases.
She’s never had to talk him into doing anything, he was always following her, whatever she was doing.
“See? It’s fun!” She’s the image of gleeful, twirling herself under one of his arms before prompting him to do the same.
Toge manages a few ‘salmon’s between her antics, before she starts to get more energetic with the beginning of the next song.  She claims it’s a classic 2000’s dance beat, and that it would be criminal if they didn’t dance through it, too.
Of course that turned into a third dance, then a fourth, and along with them a few more drinks.  They lose track of time, and eventually the rest of the world seems to fall away, too.  It’s a Wednesday night- well, early Thursday morning now- but all responsibilities that the day will hold is far from their minds.  It’s hard to notice that their friends have even started to wind down.  Panda had collapsed on the floor with a pile of empty water bottles surrounding him, currently chugging down another one.  Maki was scrolling through her phone nursing her own water, physically present, but too tired to engage in any more activities tonight.
And (y/n) and Toge were dancing around, jumping on their feet and twirling each other about like the night was still young and they had all the energy in the world.  Until eventually, Maki had given up on adding anything to the queue, and random songs they’d never heard of were playing, (y/n) still insisted that he stay up with her and keep dancing until they couldn’t anymore.
That was, until Maki retreated to her room for the night, and with her went the music.  (y/n) tried her best to plead with her to stay, but unfortunately Maki wasn’t as suggestable to her puppy dog eyes as Toge was.
“(y/n), listen to me closely,” Maki said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice, even going so far as to run a hand through her drunk friend’s hair.  Thinking that she was going to stay at the ‘party’- if it could still be called that- (y/n) gleamed up at her with a syrupy smile and heavy eyelids.  “Get some water, and get to bed” 
(y/n) deflated immediately.
“Makiiii~” She whined, and made another noise of dissatisfaction when she lost the physical affection, too.
“No buts!” Maki quips as she walks away with her phone and powered down speaker in hand.  “Toge, if you keep her up, then you’re dealing with the consequences tomorrow!” Maki barks at the other culprit to (y/n’s) deluded party-mode state.
“Salmon!” He hollers back, bringing his hand to his forehead in an all too serious salute.  It brings out a load of giggles from (y/n) that has Maki sending one last warning glare at the two before she finally leaves.
Yeah, she absolutely wasn’t dealing with that mess in the mornings.
“She doesn’t hate us,” (y/n) sighs out to Toge, unprovoked, but he can tell she’s completely serious by the way she stares up at him.  “She’s just grumpy she has to get up in the morning” 
Toge raises his eyebrows with slight concern, before twirling his finger around in a short circle between them.
(y/n’s) jaw drops as she gapes at him.
“I know we do too,” She argues.  “But it’ll be fine, I’m used to waking up early” 
He gives her a look, but she doesn’t relent in her stare.  So he pulls his phone out to show her the time.
2:48 A.M.
But her eyes barely register the hour, instead she’s glued to the wallpaper on his lockscreen, and she’s lighting back up with energy as she reaches for his phone and snatches it before he could react.
It was ridiculous how she maintained her speed and strength even when intoxicated.  Toge wondered if it was safe for jujutsu sorcerers to drink this heavily. 
“Is this us?” She asks, even though she was currently admiring the photo of the two of them on his lockscreen.
Toge’s quick to zip up his collar in order to hide the heat flushing his cheeks.
“This is so cute!” She delights in the image, cradling his phone in both hands as though to preserve it with great care.  
The picture isn’t even new to her, and she’d been the one to take it.  A few months ago she’d tried her hand at baking, and had been quite eager to bring a cinnamon cake to a hangout with the rest of their friends.  She might’ve promised it before she was certain of her baking abilities, and had required Toge’s help not long into the process.  As happy as he was to aid her in her new hobby, he couldn’t help but find humor in just how helpless she seemed to be in the kitchen at first.  She hardly even knew her way around the cabinets.  Hours later the cake had turned out just fine- their friends had even gone for seconds- but not without it’s difficulties.
Toge had snapped the photo when the cake had just been put into the oven, before they began the tedious cleanup process.  She had flour in her hair and some stuck to her cheek.  It was a good thing she’d chosen to wear an apron because it was covered in the various ingredients they’d used.  But despite the messy state of herself and the kitchen in the background, she was grinning from ear to ear, clearly excited to see the results of her cake soon.  Toge’s mirroring the smile, although there’s not a speck on him.  After the whole process, he’d managed to keep himself completely clean.
“I didn’t know you made this your wallpaper, that’s really sweet,” She’s handing him his phone back after the torturous few seconds are over, and Toge slips it into his pocket quickly.  His blush might’ve been hidden by the collar of his jacket, but it was still made obvious by his shifting eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers.
“That was a really fun day actually, we should bake something together again sometime!” She lights up, and he can tell that she’s already trying to think of something to go make right now.  It’s clear she’s already forgotten the time- or maybe she just didn’t care that much.  “We could-” 
“Tuna tuna” Toge gives her a look, before tapping the back of his wrist a few times, hoping to remind her of the task at hand.
It was no wonder Maki rushed off to her own dorm.
(y/n) huffed in annoyance, but ultimately followed alongside him as he tried ushering her out of the common room and towards the dorms.  She stumbled along and tried to slow him down, came up with a few more mumbled excuses to stay up later, all of which were met by quiet chuckles and reminders of ‘tuna’.
It took some ping-ponging down the halls, but eventually he got her to her room, and even though the night was over, she seemed rather pleased to be back in her own room.
“Spicy cod roe” Toge barely mumbles the words out as he’s gesturing about her room to her, before raising his hand to his mouth to mimic drinking a cup of water.
She smiles back at him in perfect understanding before she gives him a nod of her head.
Her movements are lazy as she strolls about the room to get changed into something she can sleep in.  Her coordination was less than subpar compared to her usual level of functioning, but that wouldn’t be a problem for another few hours.
It’s not long before there’s a knock on her door, and she’s opening it with the brightness of a christmas tree when Toge is on the other side with two bottles of water.
Wordlessly, she invites him in by stepping aside and pulling the door open further.  Toge passes off one of the bottles to her as he does so.
“Are you staying?” She asked, nodding to the bottle still in his hand.  “We can watch a movie?” She offers hopefully.
It’s a little past three in the morning now.  He tries to give her a look to reminder of this, but she doesn’t seem to care when she sticks her bottom lip out and folds her hands together in a pleading motion.
He sighs, and she brightens up again.  It’s almost comical how small but sweet of a smile could have him agreeing to anything.  It’s almost as if she’s the one with a cursed technique designed to compel, and not him.
While glancing through the array of dvds on her shelves, Toge wonders what things would be like if the roles had been reversed.  If he was the one able to tell her his every thought and feeling as they pass.  He wonders if she would have known how he felt about her a long, long time ago.
He’d dealt with his cursed speech in the best way that he could.  Of course he didn’t love it, of course things would be easier if he could talk like anyone else, he could gamble a good ninety percent of his life would’ve gone smoother.  No more stupid rice ball ingredients, and no more hoping that just a look would be enough to communicate to the girl he loves that he loves her.  That he purely, wholly, desperately loves her.
He picks out a dvd and pops it into her player- she’d dragged it back into her room last week after waking him up in the middle of the night because she was in the mood to watch one of her favorites.  Once the opening credit scenes start to roll, he finds that she’s already cozied up on one side of the bed, her blanket tucked to her chin, and her water bottle cradled in both of her hands.  She smiles when he turns to her, and then pats the space beside her, waiting patiently for him to sit with her.
He lets out a sigh as he sinks into the mattress beside her.  He taps his wrist twice before raising his hand and pinching his thumb and forefinger together, an easy way to gesture just for a little bit.
“Okay,” (y/n) nods, then takes the edge of her blanket to throw it over his lap too.  “Just for a little bit” Her voice is merely a hum, words slurred together just a little bit, but there’s not a flicker of uncertainty in her features when she gazes upon him.
It’s only a few minutes into the movie when she slumps against him, the entire side of her body pressed into his, from their shoulders to their legs.  Toge chuckles as she begins to give in to her exhaustion, and as sweet as it was that she got cuddly when she was drunk and sleepy, he prayed she’d pass out soon so that the morning wouldn’t be so rough.  They were well past getting a full eight hours before training tomorrow, and dealing with Gojo alone would be a burden.  Not because he would go rough on them- but because as soon as he sniffed out a little bit of a hangover, he’d be relentless with his teasing.
(And he might tack on a few extra laps on the track as minor punishment.  Normally no big deal.  But when you’re fighting off puking your guts out?) 
Toge makes a mental note to have aspirin and a heavy meal ready first thing in the mornings so she could get it all out of her system as quickly as possible.  One measly water bottle tonight just wouldn’t cut it.
When her head hits his shoulder in a soft thump, he looks down at her, checking to see if she’s finally fallen asleep.  To his surprise, she tilts her head back in order to meet his gaze.  Pink dusts over her cheeks and the corners of her mouth tilt upwards, no doubt a reaction from the alcohol in her system and their close proximity.
“You think I could get out of training with a sick day tomorrow?” She murmurs, earning a wince from Toge.  She didn’t need words to understand what that meant.  “You’re right,” She sighs, briefly turning her attention back to the movie.  “Gojo’s gonna fry me” 
This time he chuckles, and she glances back at him again.
“Mustard leaf…” 
A small giggle escapes her as well, her eyes crinkling despite knowing the fate she would face come tomorrow.
“Maybe I’ll just fess up straight away,” She thinks aloud.  “If I cry a bit, he might take pity on me, I dunno,” 
Toge struggles to hold eye contact with her, not because the movie was just so enticing he could barely pay attention to her, but quite the opposite.  With her cuddled up against his side and whispering so softly right into his ear he could hardly focus on anything other than her.  To his knowledge, the rest of the world was completely wiped away.  It was an ability she’d somehow mastered unknowingly, making him forget that there was anything else going on around them when the two of them were together.
His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she must notice, with how close she is, she could probably feel it, but if she does, she doesn’t say a thing.
“Or you could tell him I died,” She adds suddenly, and Toge snorts out a laugh, making her giggle again.  
His eyes finally hold contact with hers for longer than a passing second, and she seems to melt further against him.  She doesn’t feel heavy against his shoulder, but she might as well be an anchor keeping him trapped in place.  
Yeah, there’s not a chance he’ll only be here for a little bit.
“You’d cover for me, right?” She asks, and it’s only meant to be a tease, but Toge raises his free arm that wasn’t being leaned on by hers, and crosses his finger over his heart.  “Wow,” (y/n) gushes in her surprise, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a wider smile.  She’s so beautiful to him at this moment that he now hopes he’ll be the one to pass out before he does something stupid.  “Cross your heart and hope to die, huh?” She muses.  “That’s pretty serious” 
He scoffs again, barely rolling his eyes, but his attention is drawn back to her again when she shifts around to lay on her side.  She’s still very much cuddled up to him, and he can tell she makes an effort to stay that way as she gets comfortable in a new position.  She even hooks her ankle over his, a silent ask for him to stay longer.  Her cheek leans back into his shoulder soon enough, and he knows he should be leaving when she starts to bat her eyelashes, but even as a Grade Two sorcerer he doesn’t have the strength to do so.
“Can I ask you a real question?” 
Everyone’s least favorite question of all time.
Toge affirms with a nod of his head, barely managing a smile to assure her.
“Does it get old?” Her voice grows even softer.  “Listening to me talk all the time?” 
He shakes his head just as quickly, the smile disappearing as a knot forms between his pinched brows.  She gives him a wobbly smile, feeling a bit endeared by how quickly he tried to tell her otherwise.
“Really?” She asks, still a bit unsure.  “Sometimes I try to shut my mouth, I… I don’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck listening to me all the time, but, uh, I can’t help it sometimes.  I… really like talking to you” She’s rambling before she knows it- and then blushing at the irony of it all.
His smile returned then, stretching wide until his teeth were showing, and he was laughing quietly at her.  Not to be malicious, of course, he was simply amused and absolutely lovestruck by the sweet admission.  Toge reached out, affectionately touching the pad of his thumb to her chin, before he shifted around to get his phone out of his pocket.
This didn’t call for rice ball ingredients, or small gestures to convey what he was thinking.  He’d need to communicate properly to her with how much he’d have to say.
(y/n) watched on as he opened his notes app and began to type.
it could never get old.  i like listening to you talk :)
It makes her heart stutter in her chest, but she can’t help the giggle that escapes her when he adds a little emoji, too.  Toge spaces down to a new line before typing more.
does it get old that i can’t talk with you the same way? 
He watches as her eyes scan over the screen quickly, before she turns to him and shakes her head.
“Of course not,” She tells him right away.  “I- I think we understand each other just fine… don’t we?” 
It dawns on her that they’ve never really talked about this before.  Even when they first met, it was like she was told he had cursed speech and she took it upon herself to learn how he communicated as quickly as possible.  Perhaps all that time she spent around him those first few months after her enrollment were what led to their closeness now.  Saying she was headstrong in being able to understand him would have been an understatement.  She had constantly been picking up on the subtleties between his rice ball ingredients, or paying attention to every hand movement or direction of his gaze to know what he was talking about.  
And it was a very, very rare case when she couldn’t understand him.  Toge could hardly recall a time it had happened.
He sets his phone down on his lap, nodding his head back at her as his eyes shifted between hers.  Her lashes hung heavy, eyelids almost falling shut with every blink, but she wasn’t giving into sleep just yet.
She mirrors his nod with a short one of her own, her eyes filled with an emotion he can’t say he’s ever seen in her before.  He studies it curiously, forgetting any sense of embarrassment from staring at her so blatantly… but then again, she wasn’t exactly shying away either.  Was it the alcohol?
“Toge,” His name falls from her lips in a mere breath, so small her mouth hardly moves, so quiet it almost doesn’t grace his ears.  “I… I hope you know you can tell me anything… anytime…” 
It’s such a sweet admission that he can’t help but reach out to her again, his thumb touching her chin in the way he usually does when he’s teasing her, but now it feels… different.  His touch lingers, and the look in his eyes feels heavier than she’s used to.  She’s flustering suddenly, her heartbeat picking up in pace, her face feeling even hotter the longer she holds his stare.  After another prolonged minute of his touch to her face, she finds herself reaching up for his hand, cupping the back of it and holding it there for just a few moments longer.
And then comes a delicate, carefully worded whisper on his part.
“I know” 
He pauses for a few seconds after he says it, just to be sure there were no lasting effects left on her.  Just as he expected, those words didn’t seem to hold any cursed energy, and she didn’t seem paralyzed or compelled in the slightest.  She simply smiles back at him, her eyelashes batting a few more times.
“Okay, good,” She murmurs, before tucking herself closer to him, nuzzling her head into his chest to get comfortable.  
She’s long forgotten the movie that was playing, and honestly, so had he.  Toge knows now it’s only a matter of minutes before she’s finally knocked out.  With a yawn, she finally drops her hand from his, but Toge opts to leave it in it’s place, carefully cradled under her jaw, his thumb swiping over her cheekbone in slow and lazy movements.
“Just stay the night, ‘kay?” She mumbles into his shirt, throwing her free arm over his waist.  “If someone notices, I’ll take the blame,” She says, and then quickly adds, “But no one will” 
His chest vibrates beneath her when he chuckles, and she merely smiled to herself as sleep finally overcomes her.
Toge hesitates on moving to turn off the tv.  Any one wrong move and he’d risk waking her, and he certainly didn’t want to do that.  So with drawn out movements, he carefully gets the tv turned off, and places the remote on the nightstand.
(y/n) doesn’t wake up, to his luck, she doesn’t even stir.  She’s sound asleep, dead weight like a rock on top of him.  But a welcome rock she was.
He didn’t even mind having to sleep in a half seated position, or the fact that the arm she’s laying on is starting to prickle with pins and needles.  None of it matters when he can faintly feel her heart beating against his chest, right beside his.
Toge only got a hair of sleep that night, but even during the rough training session the following morning, all he could think about was how soft her hair felt when he’d run his hand through it.
If what came after falling in love was a crash landing, he was definitely nearing the ground.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When he first comes to, all Toge can barely make out is the dim light above him.  His mind is hazy, a swarm of disconnected thoughts like ‘where am I?’ and ‘why are the lights so dim in Shoko’s infirmary?’.  Nothing really makes sense until the haze begins to clear.
The next sense to come back was his hearing, and he wished it had taken a little longer because it wasn’t pleasant.
At first it’s just a sharp ringing, distant at first, like someone blowing a whistle far away from here.  But it didn’t take long for it to grow nearer and nearer, until eventually it was right in front of him, breaking through to let him take in the other sounds around him.
Whimpering.  Soft weeping, maybe.  Quiet, like the owner of the quiet cries, was trying not to wake him.
Then it was sniffling, also quiet and contained.  So faint he could just barely make it out, but paired with the cries, it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on.
He has to squeeze his eyes shut after the short exposure to the yellow light, but soon enough he’s forcing them open again.  This time he’s greeted with the blurry silhouette of the crier.
“(y/n)-” 
It’s no surprise his throat is so dry and raw that he feels blood pool on his tongue as soon as he rasps out her name, but it was enough to capture her attention, so he tries to ignore the pain for now.
A hushed “Ohmygod” is whispered under her breath so fast her lips barely move, before she’s a blurry mess of movements above him.  His eyes can’t track everything, but he thinks her hands are shaking around his face from the tapping over her fingertips on his cheeks.  “You’re- you’re awake?” She mumbles out, a hint of a whimper still trembling in her voice.
Just as he parts his lips to give her an affirmative response, her eyes widen, and her fingertips press further into his cheeks until he can feel the full length of her fingers against his skin.  They’re still shaking, but her touch is warm.
“Wait, don’t say anything, I’m sure your throat’s a mess right now,” Even when she’s not sniffling over her words, they’re watery, just a little bit stuck in her throat.  “But you’re- you’re awake,” She repeats, a smile briefly stretching on her lips, before it quickly falls back into that wobbly frown.  His vision begins to focus when he settles it there, hoping it’ll disappear into another smile again.
Why was she such a wreck? She’d never cried over him before, and he’s been injured plenty of times, Toge couldn’t wrap his mind around it.  It was making it harder to fight past the hazy state of waking up.  
There were small, wet splashes against his face that startled him enough to change his focus, eyes suddenly moving his line of sight upwards, finding her eyes were in fact full of tears, and most of them were streaming down her face.  He can’t say or do much, but concern is evident on his face.
“Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?” She wipes uselessly at the tears on her face when she speaks.  The dry patches were just as quickly replaced by more streaks of tears.
Toge shakes his head, although it’s not a complete truth.  His head is still spinning, the metallic taste of blood was burning the scratches in his throat, but most peculiar was the dull ache of his left arm.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, or even enough to bring a tear to his eye, and yet the throbbing of it captured all of his attention.  He couldn’t not think about it.  Was it broken? Why hadn’t Shoko healed it? It never feels like this after her Reverse Cursed Technique…
“Okay,” (y/n) whimpers, sniffling before she speaks again.  “Okay, that- that’s good, that’s good…” Her voice grows quiet, and Toge’s shaking his head at her again, trying to voice his confusion with this whole ordeal, trying to ask her what was wrong.
All he can do is twitch his right hand until she notices, and as soon as she turns her head, she picks his hand up in both of hers.  She’s swift but gentle, cradling it as if his bones would shatter from a movement too rough.  He tries to curl his fingers around hers, but it takes too much effort, so he goes to bring his other hand around hers as well.
A strained gasp escapes him when he lifts his left arm, his eyes shooting open from the pain and difficulty of the action, neck swiveling to see what was so wrong that he couldn’t do something so simple as to hold her hand and comfort her.
They’re both frozen when he finally looks at his left arm.  Or, lack thereof.
(y/n’s) crying seems to cease completely as she holds her breath, and Toge’s chest is moving rapidly, but his inhales and exhales are nearly silent.
When he looks up at her again, she brings a hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that shakes her entire body as she begins to cry again, just as hard as she had when she’d found him.
“I’m- I’m sorry,” Is what she says first, it’s all that really comes to mind at first, she doesn’t know where to begin, how she’s supposed to explain it to him, what the gentle way of proceeding was.
She almost wished someone was here now, but there wasn’t.  There was no one.  Everyone was either missing, or had died in the aftermath, there was only the two of them.  The world had shrunk down to leave just the two of them it seemed- and they weren’t allowed their peace.
“Shibuya- it’s- when I found you-” She tries, she really does, but so many words flood her mind at once that they get lodged in her throat, and she’s never really learned how to navigate this sort of thing before.  This was always Gojo’s job, or Nanami’s…
With a deep breath, (y/n) straightens her posture as she’s kneeled beside Toge on the ground, and she gives his hand a small squeeze.
“Without a Reversed Curse Technique, I did the best that I could,” She says, a little bit more clearly, but not without a few hiccups.  “The runes on the wrappings should keep it from getting infected, at the very least,” 
Toge looks back at his left side again, taking in a long, good look at the missing space where the rest of his arm used to be.  Then his gaze shifts upwards, where what’s left of his bicep is wrapped in perfect bindings.  It appears every inch of the gauze is covered in neatly drawn runes.
How long had this taken her? How long had he been out? 
“It’s been a couple of days,” She sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and slouching again.  “It’s not… great, as you can see,” She adds, gesturing around them.
It’s only then that Toge’s really taken in their surroundings.  They’re in a tent, that’s just big enough for the two of them.  The shitty light his eyes had adjusted to was just a lantern tied around the center post.
“But it’s worked for now… I’ve been out a few times, there’s water, um, some food…” She trails off as she’s glancing around, already losing pace and barely keeping up with what she’s saying.  What was she supposed to say? “I… I haven’t crossed paths with anyone else yet” 
Toge’s hand twitches in hers, fingers flexing for a moment before he pulls it out of her hold.  It’s slow and shaky when he brings his hand to her face, but he is able to make the reach.  She leans closer to him so he wouldn’t have to stretch too much.  Toge presses the entirety of his palm into her cheek, fingertips prodding at her hairline, thumb tracing against her cheekbone.
That wobbly smile returns when she presses her palm against the back of his hand.  She’s still crying, but it seems a little more under control.  He wonders if she’s even aware of the never ending tears, or if she’s grown used to it.
“Thank you” 
A watery scoff of a laugh escapes her, and then she shakes her head at him.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” She mumbles, and his thumb begins to drag lower, across the hollow of her cheek, coming to the corner of her mouth.
He nods his head to make his argument, a furrow in his brows that tells her he’s serious, but she doesn’t seem to take him as such.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” She sniffles.  “There’s barely any food, I’ve been in this ruined uniform for days, all of our friends are missing and the strongest sorcerer in the world is in the prison realm, you’re hurt, and it very well may be the end of the world-” 
He has to drop his hand from her face in order to have the strength to push himself into a sitting position, but once he does he’s just as quick to bring it back.
She’s crying too much to keep adding to her list of everything that’s gone wrong in the last few days, but this time Toge tries to wipe the tears away as he shushes her softly.  It takes a few minutes, but eventually the tears come to a stop, and Toge drops his hand again.
This time he makes a gesture to her.  It’s drawn out, despite it being a simple one.  He points his finger out, touching it to her collarbone, then his eyes meet hers again, and they’re tearing up again.  He frowns.  Then taps her shirt a few more times, trying to make his point clearer.
You’re still here.
He can only hope that more taps will make sense to her.
The corner of (y/n’s) lips tilt upwards, and he thinks with the amount of emotions flickering behind her eyes, that understanding is amongst them.
“I’m glad you’re here… with me,” She mumbles out.  “I don’t know what I would’ve done….” The thought trails off with her words, and she turns her head away, chewing on the inside of her cheek.  The exhale she lets out instead is slow, and shaky.
Toge lifts his hand to turn her chin back towards him, a frown on his face as his eyes meet hers.
Again, he points at her, but this time he presses the pad of his finger square against her chin, and then turns it towards himself, mirroring the touch to his own chin.  A crease forms between her brows, and he repeats it- tapping her chin twice with a featherlight touch, and then his own.
We’re both still here.
Weakly, another smile graced her lips.  She understood.
“Whatever is next, we take on together… yeah?” She asks him, her voice hushed, a certain anxiety filling her chest with a crawling feeling, but Toge’s response couldn’t have eased it away faster.
He nods, leaning in closer, bringing his hand back to her cheek so he could tilt her head downward just the slightest, enough for him to brush his lips over her forehead in a light kiss.  So light if she wasn’t staring at him with wide eyes, she might’ve missed it altogether.
Like a deer caught in headlights, she holds her stare even once Toge’s pulled away.  Her parted lips holding no definitive emotion, he’s not exactly sure what she’s thinking when she stares at him like that, but he doesn’t feel any regret from the action.  They were all they had now, and there might not be any amount of comfort to delude them into thinking things were going to turn out perfectly fine, but they could certainly try.  Perhaps they could go just a few minutes at a time feeling some relief.
They weren’t alone.  And despite it all, they were alive.  At this moment anyways, Toge couldn’t ask for more.
With the backs of her hands, (y/n) roughly wipes away the lingering tears on her face, before she reaches out to him.  Just as her hands cradle around his face, he’s meeting her halfway, eyes shut before their lips even touch.
As hasty as it is, it’s a tender kiss.  Neither one of them wanted to move too fast at the risk of bumping an injury, but the years of pent up emotions came pouring out of it nonetheless.  Her calloused and bruised hands somehow feel silky smooth when they glide over his jaw.  Any fears or pains melt away under the gift of her soft kiss.  Toge could almost forget all of it, just for that moment.
When she pulls away, quietly panting to catch her breath after holding it the entirety of the kiss, the unreadable look on her face fades away into something else.  Bittersweet relief.
Her eyes shift between his, finding the same emotion in them that she’s currently feeling.  Affectionately, her thumbs trace over the markings on either side of his mouth.  There’s a moment of silence between them as they bask in the first pleasant moment they’d had in a while.  It’s no surprise that it’s only come when they’re together.
“We’ll find the others,” (y/n) murmurs assuredly after a minute.  “We’ll figure it out,” And as she says it, she starts to believe it, slowly but surely she pulls herself out of her cynicism, hope and certainty replacing it when she looks at him.  “Together” 
His own hand slides across her cheek and wraps comfortably at the nape of her neck, holding her delicately but closely.  Toge nods, smiling back at her with as much conviction as he could.
“Together” 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ it’s a cruel, cruel world, but we don’t care // cause what we’ve got, we’ve got to share ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie a/n: for anyone who got the little miss sunshine edit mwah mwah mwah bc it's a comfort movie of mine &lt;3
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silksongeveryday · 3 months
Text
Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!
1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!
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Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.
I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??
(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)
A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.
So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)
I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.
Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.
Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol
I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over
Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!
Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!
Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!
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ctrlchar · 3 months
Note
size kink with jakey baby
size kink!headcannons with jake
a/n: sorry for the inconsistency with my posts i promise i’ll start writing more soon🙏🙏 and thank you along with everyone else who requested this!
he always puts his hands on you when he fucks you.he loves seeing hands against your body
the first time you guys had sex he was sooo scared he was going to hurt you especially if you told him that he didn’t have to be gentle
if he ever catches you staring at his muscles he’ll be sure to use it to his advantage wether it be him purposely showing them off by wearing a sleeveless shirt or he’ll fuck you in missionary because he knows you just can’t help but hold onto him
your nails left crescent shaped marks in your boyfriends biceps as you held onto him for dear life while he mercilessly pounded into your already sore cunt. “jakey- i’m close” you whimpered out feeling his muscles flexing each time he’d move his arms. “s’ okay baby go ahead” said jake as he began to pepper kisses from your jaw down your neck
one time you were having sex and he noticed a bulge in your belly and he never let it go not once
as your hips clashed together,jake had a firm grip on your hips while he held you where he wanted you. you had noticed he had went silent for a moment,with the exception of his heavy grunts and moans. it was then that you realized his eyes were glued onto your stomach as he watched the skin bulge up with each thrust. the sight alone made him cum on the spot as he watched his cock fuck in and out of you
if you’re shorter then him he will always be picking you up and sometimes if you’re wearing shorts he’ll smack the flesh of your ass just to see the large red handprint when he fucks you from behind later that night
whenever the two of your are hanging out sometimes he’ll just put his hands either on yours,your waist,or thighs just to draw your attention to the size difference
will absolutely talk you through it no doubt
“i know baby,just think about how good you’ll feel in a minute yeah?” he’d say while soothingly rubbing your side. your hands gripped him tightly as the fat tip of his cock was inside you while he began to bottom out. tears brimmed your eyes from the feeling as you tried to push through knowing it’ll feel better soon. “shh it’s okay, doin’ so good for me” he’d say as he wipes away the tears that had fallen with his thumb
he will never pass up a quickie,solely because he likes to show off how strong/big he is by holding you against the wall when he fucks you <3
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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
Text
falling is easy, catching is hard
rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
December 19, 1985
Steve Harrington needed sleep.
Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.
But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.
“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”
“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.
“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”
Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.
Steve didn’t have one.
Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.
But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”
“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”
Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.
Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.
That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.
“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.
“The sleeping pills make them worse.”
“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.
“The nightmares.”
Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.
“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.
“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”
Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.
“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”
Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.
“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”
“Um. What?”
“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.
Steve was going to regret this.
God, he was so stupid.
“Yeah, okay.”
Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.
— — — — — — —
January 16, 1986
“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.
Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.
Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.
And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.
“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.
Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.
Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.
“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.
“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”
“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”
He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.
“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.
What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?
“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.
Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.
He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.
“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.
“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”
Steve wasn’t reading into that.
“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”
“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”
Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.
He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.
Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.
“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.
“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”
Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”
“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.
“Ever shotgunned before?”
Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.
“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”
Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.
Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.
And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.
Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.
“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.
Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.
Close enough to want to be closer.
“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”
“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”
Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.
“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”
“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”
It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.
Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.
Steve couldn’t breathe.
But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.
His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.
He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.
He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.
Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.
He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.
It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.
It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.
Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.
“Good?” Eddie asked.
Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.
But Steve wanted to kiss him.
Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.
Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.
So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.
“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.
“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”
“No, I-”
“Steve. You’re high.”
His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.
He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.
Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.
But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.
“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.
Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.
Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.
“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”
“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”
They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.
“Wha-?”
“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”
Steve’s brows furrowed.
Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.
“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.
Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
— — — — — — —
February 14, 1986
Steve got him flowers.
He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.
By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’
And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.
He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.
Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.
Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.
As if that could ever be an option.
This was his last chance, though.
He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.
Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.
The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.
“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”
“I said I’d bring you flowers.”
He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.
Like he was trying not to smile.
Like maybe Steve did something right.
“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.
Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.
He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.
Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.
Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.
“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”
“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.
“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”
“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”
“That’s what Wayne said, but-”
“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”
Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.
“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”
Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”
Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”
“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”
“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”
“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.
Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.
But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.
“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”
“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.
“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?
Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.
Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.
But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.
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benedictscanvas · 4 months
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pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader
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pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3
warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)
---
“Hi love.”
Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 
He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.
Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.
You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.
If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.
“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.
“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”
“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”
You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.
“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”
You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.
“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”
He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.
“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”
You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.
“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”
Jamie winces.
“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”
You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.
“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“
“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”
You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.
“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”
“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”
“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”
He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.
“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”
Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.
---
He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.
After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.
You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.
“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”
Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.
“Kit room.”
It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.
Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.
“Y/N? Love?”
“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”
Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.
“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”
He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.
“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”
Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.
Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.
“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.
“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”
“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.
“You’re alright, though?”
You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.
“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”
No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.
Tell her, you prick.
He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.
This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.
“What’s it say?”
You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.
“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”
You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.
“On the ceiling?”
He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.
It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.
“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”
“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.
“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.
“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”
You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.
“I spy with my little eye…”
---
It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.
No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.
“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.
“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.
He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.
Tell him, you silly shit.
It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.
“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”
“What?”
He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.
“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”
He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.
You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.
"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."
He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.
Maybe again.
"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."
He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.
"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."
You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.
"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.
(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)
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