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slutforln4 · 2 days

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BLOODY KISSES

🖇️ lando norris x reader

🖇️ in which your boyfriend ends up in a bloody situation

🖇️ warnings: a lot of blood mentions, suggestive + descriptive so minors dni!! pretty short, 1.6k

🖇️ author’s note: lando with the injured nose is hot okay, i had to do something about my feelings towards it

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“I don’t like how that guy’s looking at you.”

Lando felt your hair brush against his cheek as you turned your head to the side, eyes scanning the room until you found the piercing set of eyes boring into you from way over at the bar. “Him?” You cocked your head to the guy’s direction.

His green eyes looked at the guy again, brows creasing immediately upon sight. “Yeah. Does he have a fucking staring problem or something? No reason for him to eye you like that.”

You stifle a laugh, arms wrapping tighter around Lando. “I’m sure he’s just enjoying the view.”

“The view of what?” He turns back to you, his grip on your waist tightening and eyes turning dark. “My girlfriend?”

You bite back a smile and your fingers softly brush against his forehead as you push his curls back. “I love when you get possessive like that.”

Lando’s lips pulled into a smirk before leaning in to kiss you, hands pulling you in by your waist. He wasn’t sure what made that guy even think of looking at you, especially when Lando’s hands have been travelling the curves of your body all night. You’ve been practically glued to him, unable to get a second alone, even if you wanted to.

Lando had to admit that he can’t blame the guy for undressing you with his eyes— that tight little black dress you wore made it so easy to imagine what’s underneath. And the length didn’t help at all. Lando had to keep pulling it down everytime you ever so slightly bent.

He completely understands why the guy was staring, but it still made his blood fucking boil.

The lingering taste of alcohol mixed in you two’s mouths, the make-out getting more heated than you were first intending. Lando peeked an eye open and, sure enough, the guy was still staring, an angry glare tracing your figure from above the rim of his glass.

Lando had started to enjoy this whole bit. Seeing another guy want you, but knowing that he could never have you. Your boyfriend never thought of himself as being possessive, yet the jealousy flowing through his veins had begun to feel almost addictive.

“Lan,” you mumbled against his lips, trying to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. You managed to mumble “phone, ringing,” between the aggressive kisses.

Lando groaned into your mouth before pulling away and taking his phone from your hands. He excused himself for a moment, seemingly upset to peel his hands away from your body. Lando manoeuvred his way out the club and leaned back against the cold bricks as he answered the call. “Yeah, Osc?”

“Hey, mate.” Lando’s teammate began. “Listen, I was wondering if you remember what time you were going to go to the airport on Tuesday?”

“Oh, uhm,” Lando scratched the back of his head. “I dunno, pretty early in the morning, I think. Why?”

“I was wondering if I could come along, since Lily said she’s not up for travelling to the U.S. and I don’t have a travel buddy now.” Oscar explained. “Would that be alright?”

“Yeah, ‘course, mate.” Lando smiled at Oscar’s request. “I was gonna invite you both anyway, since Y/N’s coming. I guess I should tell her that Lily won’t be there this time.”

Oscar chuckled, awkwardly. “Yeah, but maybe next time. She’s been wanting to go to Italy, so I’m sure Y/N will have her plane buddy back by then.”

“Hopefully. I mean, you know how she is about Lily.” Lando grins, remembering how close you and Oscar’s girlfriend had gotten since he joined the team. “Well, I’ll see you Tuesday, then. I’ll text you the exact hour tomorrow.”

“Alright, cheers. See you then.”

“Yup, bye.”

Lando headed back inside, ready to get back to what Oscar cut him off from. Except, he couldn’t find you. But you know who he could find?

That same fucking guy that’s been eye-fucking you the whole night.

He was in the same spot as you had been, looking like he was looming over somebody. When Lando got a glimpse of your hair flipping to the side, trying to find a way to escape this guy, he knew better than to just stand there across the club.

His hand aggressively pulled the guy back by his shoulder. The blonde man in front of him looked confused and simply shrugged it away, laughing in Lando’s face as he turned back to you. You noticed the change of expression in Lan’s face as soon as he pulled the guy back again, this time even more angry than before.

“The fuck is your problem?”

Lando wrapped an arm around you, territorial and so fucking hot. “My problem is that you can’t keep your fucking eyes from my girlfriend.”

“Not my fault you let her dress like a slut and expect me not to stare.”

Time went on slowly from that moment. Lando’s knuckles made contact with the guy’s jaw, then nose, then jaw again. You’ve never seen him so aggressive nor seen him fight anyone, and it was odd to feel turned on by it.

You couldn’t do anything but try and pull Lando away from the guy, but to no avail. You only managed to get him away when the guy punched him back. Lando leaned his head back, hand pushing against his nose as he tried to catch the gushing blood.

“Fuck you,” you angrily spat at the guy before dragging Lando to the bathrooms.

As soon as the door closed and locked, you brought your full attention to Lando and ignored the pounding in your chest. “Fuck, he punched you pretty good, huh?”

“Not as good as I beat him,” he smiled, blood still dripping down his nose to his lips. He spat it out into the sink. “Sorry you have to see me like this, baby. I couldn’t not do anything.”

You bit back a smile as you dabbed the paper towel against his nose, as gentle as a feather, trying your best not to hurt him. “I thought it was kind of hot how you defended me like that.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, hands finding their way back to your waist. “Didn’t know you liked to see me violent.”

“I didn’t either,” you whisper back at him, lips brushing against his. “I guess we learn new things everyday.”

“I guess we do,” he mumbled before connecting his bloodied lips with yours.

Lando felt his nose hurt, but he was far too intoxicated to care. All he cared about was you and for that god-damned dress to be off as soon as possible.

Your fingers gently undid the buttons of his blood-stained shirt, lips still gently pressed against his. The warmth of his blood, oddly enough, didn’t scare you away like Lando thought it would. You seemed to be into it and didn’t mind.

The zipper of your dress pulled down under the weight of Lando’s fingertips, hands trailing down your shoulders as he tugged it off your body.

“Mmh, fuck,” Lando mumbled against your lips when your nose accidentally brushed against his. You didn’t get a chance to pull away as Lando kissed you again, seemingly unbothered by the tinge of pain in his nose.

Your dress pooled at your waist and Lando’s hands pulled you in by the hips. His dick could be felt through the fabric of his dress pants and you didn’t waste any time undoing the button, tugging them down and wrapping your hand around him.

“Someone's needy,” Lando smiles against your lips, blood on his teeth. “How badly do you need it?”

“So bad, Lan.” You whimper when his tongue makes contact with your neck and he gently sucks it. His nose brushed against your skin and you could tell it hurt him, but a hungry man doesn’t know pain as well as he knows the taste of you.

Lando could go through ten times the amount of pain as he is right now if only that meant he’d hear those delicate sounds slipping past your lips as his lips left purple bruises on your skin.

And, fuck, did he make a mess on your neck. He pulled away, eyes trailing down your skin as he watched the blood seep into it.

You saw it in the mirror, too, and it was so fucking hot. It’s like he found a new and better way of marking you.

“Baby,” you mumble as he slowly trails kisses down your chest. He hums as if to ask what’s wrong and you twirl a curl of his between your fingers. “I still need to fix you up. You’ll catch an infection.”

“I’ll be fine,” his muffled voice says while leaving small hickeys on your breasts.

You sometimes hated how stubborn he was, but after all these years, you learnt how to work around it.

Lando freezes mid-kiss when you pull away, stepping back a couple footsteps before pulling your dress back up. “Zip it for me?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, visibly annoyed yet intrigued by your sudden change in emotion. You were just desperate for his dick and now you’re pulling away.

“Getting dressed?” You raise a brow and look his way. “What does it look like?”

“To me,” he steps towards you, hands on your hips before he swiftly turns you around so you’re facing away from him, “it looks like you’re being a brat.”

You faux gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. “Me? I would never.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, baby,” he pulls the zipper up your back. “Because you know what brats get, right? Remember last time you did this?”

“Yeah,” you turn back around to face him, hands shaking with need to touch him but mind desperately fighting against it. “But last time you weren’t actively bleeding out and I was trying to rile you up in front of your friends.”

“Baby, I swear I’ll be fine.”

Lando chuckled when he saw your eyes roll. “I’ll trust that when you have a bandage on your nose and I have seven inches in me.”

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mascdestr0yer · 1 day

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can you do a friends to lovers Paige x reader

Private, but not a secret

Warnings: some fluff, and the reader (you duh) being oblivious. It's a little cringe, but you'll live

Paige bueckers x fem!reader

Synopsis: You and Paige have been friends since the seventh grade, now you're both seniors at Hopkins highschool, as graduation nears Paige still hasn't told you what offer she's accepted yet. But you haven't either, the conversation never comes up until now. finding out you both are going to UCONN was exciting, but what you both didn't know, it would actually push you away.

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ML💕

You're waiting for Paige outside of her classroom, of course she's the last one out. She finally walked out with that stupid grin of hers,"we still going to the mall after school?" She asked, as we walked towards the cafeteria, dapping a few people up when they passed by. Intertwining our fingers, continuing to push through the crowd of students.

"I don't know, I might-"You started, she sucked her teeth, letting go of your hand. "Paige,"

"be honest, do you even like hanging out with me anymore?" She questioned me, still keeping her gaze straight ahead. You looked up at her, quickly fixing your gaze straight ahead.

"why would you even ask that?" You were a little confused on why she became so upset. Trying to touch her hand to comfort her but she snatched it away.

"every time I ask you to hang out, you say yes. Then when the time comes, you start to make up some lame excuses." Paige obviously irritated, runs her fingers through her hair. "You told me that you couldn't make it to my game because of family issues, then you post on your story you at the beach with your Friends." Her voice laced with jealousy, sitting down in the cafeteria. You sat down across from her, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Star's boyfriend cheated on her, we had to comfort her." You mumbled, slightly embarrassed by the way she called you out. Paige scoffed in response, rolling her eyes in the process.

"then why did you lie? There was no point, you had a valid reason not to come, so why lie to me." She interrogated, resting her arms on the table in between you both.

"can we drop it?" You pleaded, clearly wanting nothing to do with the situation as it was petty and unnecessary. Paige on the other hand, wanted to keep questioning you. She knew the "argument"was stupid, but she continued to poke at it with a stick.

"answer the question." She "demanded" (she's letting out her inner alpha), looking directly in your eyes.

"I don't know, thought you would be mad at me because I couldn't come to your game, so I thought maybe if I made the situation sound more intense you wouldn't get mad."

"I'm more angry at the fact that you lied to me," she grumbled, picking at her nails, not daring to look you in the eyes anymore.

"can you forgive me?" You asked, poking her cheek gently. She grips your wrist to stop you from poking her again, her grip getting tighter making it hurt.

"only if you come to the mall with me," she smirked, making her grip tighter and more painful.

I winced in pain, "okay okay, just let go!" She quickly dropped her hands with a slight smirk. "Paige that's not funny, I will beat your ass."i scolded her, flicking her neck.

"oww, that's not fair you have acrylics." She complained, whining ever so slightly.

"so?"

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

It's been about a week since then, you and Paige are sitting on the floor of her room. You do her hair while she yaps away. "UCONN is a really good school and my mom is proud of me ow-" she begins complaining about you pulling too tight and you not doing it right, you literally do her hair every time.

"hush little girl, or else I'll leave you like this." You warned her, with a comb in your hand.

She nods quickly, sitting back down in between your thighs, her back against your chest since she was taller than you. "I mainly chose UCONN because it's good for basketball and I know you're going, which is a bonus."

"I never told you where I'm going, how do you know that..." Your voice trailed off, a little scared or confused, both.

"how do I know that? I saw the UCONN merchandise in your trunk and your dad told me." She explains, drawing shapes on your thighs with her fingertip.

"when was this?" Tilting your head to the side as you braided the girl's hair, wanting to know more about the situation.

"I don't know, a little UCONN's acceptance letters came out. I asked what school you're going to, thinking it was UCLA, but I was clearly wrong."

"UCONN gave me a full ride, so I chose it. I didn't expect you to copy me and follow me to school too."

"you know you love it," she teased, sitting up when you stopped touching her hair signaling you were finished.

"Love is an overstatement," you began standing up, walking out of Paige's room.

"you finish my hair and leave me alone," she sighed, being dramatic once again. She begins following you downstairs, she watched you slip your black Crocs on and walked out the front door. Like the creep she is, she watches you through the window to see what you're doing. She watches you grab something out of the backseat of your car and walk back inside.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

When You and Paige entered college, you guys tried, I mean tried to make time for each other, classes, basketball (Paige), and your studies. If Paige were to describe her friendship with you the first year of college, it would be called a disaster. You both just needed to adjust to college and your new schedules, wrong. Paige was always so busy she really pushed you away, basketball was important to her and you were proud of her.

The less time the two of you spent together, the more you both faded away from each other. Well, until junior year, you were the girl's volleyball team media girl(inspired)for two years, meaning you went to home games and away games, meetings, their practice, and etc.

When one of the sports directors heard about the women's basketball team lacking in the media department she had a meeting with you almost immediately.

"Listen, you've been doing an extraordinary job and I have a great offer for you," Ms. Adams leans in slightly, her arms resting on her desk.

"if it's about the wbb team, I would love to, but I don't know if julie is ready nor capable to run the volleyball team without me,"

"I've already talked to her, she said it's okay,"

"I mean, if you say so,"

"excellent, Geno !" She calls for someone, a mature man walks in, clipboard in hand. "Y/n this is Coach Geno for the wbb, Geno this y/n your new media girl."

We both shake hands, "he's here to introduce you to the team, the people you be with for the next two years."

You followed Coach Geno to the basketball gym, where the girls were "practicing", "alright, huddle up !" They quickly walked over to both of you, as you try to adjust your camera, you could feel someone staring into your soul, you looked up and saw her.

"This is y/n, she will be the head of this teams media department."

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

After a few practices, the team is starting to really grow on you. I was sitting down on the bleachers in the gym, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"yes," you answered monotoned, not bothering to look up from your laptop.

"can we talk?" A familiar voice asks, I looked up seeing a certain blonde.

"yeah, we can talk later, I need to finish-"

"no, I want to talk now, come on."she cut you off, you rolled your eyes as you sat your laptop down and followed her outside. The taller girl hugs you immediately, burying her face in your neck, you hesitated and eventually hugged her back.

"I'm sorry, for pushing you away," she pulled away wiping her tears, now you were even more confused, why was she crying.

"what- it's not your fault, you were busy with basketball and classes,"

"no, you don't understand, I wasn't busy, I was scared,"

"scared ? Scared of what ?"

"this," she grabs your face, kissing you. Your heart was racing, you could feel your face burning up, you kissed her back.

When the two of you pulled away she looked directly into your eyes, "you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that,"she smirked, holding your waist pulling you closer.

"how long?"

"since the seventh grade, I mean wasn't it obvious? It was really obvious during high school, how did you not notice?"

"I don't know, I thought we were just good friends,"

"you're an idiot," she chuckled, caressing the side of your face.

"I'm the idiot? You went two years without talking to me because of some stupid crush,"

Her face drops, "that's low." You laughed at her expression.

"you're just mad you have no game,"

"shut up." She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

BONUS:

Paige and KK were live on Instagram in your dorm room, KK's phone was set up on your vanity, there was about 13k people watching. KK was showing them her singing skills. Paige messing with your make up and smelling your expensive perfumes (no bath and body here😛).

"this one smells good, smell it." She puts the pink high heel shaped perfume in KK's face.

"ouuuu, it does." She grabs the perfume out of Paige's hands, smelling it.

"two hundred dollars?" Paige asked in shock, as she read the price of the perfume off her phone.

» User.1: who's dorm are they in ?

» User.2: it's so cutesy in there

» User.3: it's my room, duh

» User.4: why is Paige in another girl room🙄

» User.5: KK keeps re-smelling the perfume😭

» User.6 who's perfume is that

"It's Paige's girlfriend," KK answered chat. Paige side eyed her,she snatched the perfume out of KK's hands. "No, not her girlfriend romantically, our friend that so happens to be a girl."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #fem!reader #fluff #lesbian #drabble #friends to lovers #anon ask #angst #angst with a happy ending

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gi4hao · 1 day

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🪁 ˎˊ- their favorite thing to do with you

— aka my take on what makes them express their love for you in a special way <3

— reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

— seungcheol + nighttime cuddles

it’s one of the rare moments when he can fully let go of his responsibilities and turn his brain off so sign him up. he’ll speed run his entire shower routine just to get five more minutes of calm cuddle time before bed. big spoon, little spoon, it really depends on his mood; but he’ll always make sure you feel held and protected no matter what, and so will you.

— jeonghan + going for a walk

at first he didn’t notice how much it meant to him. but after some time spent away from you, he realized how much he missed your silly little walks. they don’t always have a purpose, and it’s what makes them so nice. you two just wandering around town, hand in hand and your arms swinging at a regular pace. it fills his heart with nothing but love, because he thinks the world always looks a little more beautiful when you’re with him <3

— joshua + making plans for the future

whether it’s planning an upcoming trip or something more distant (your wedding for example…), joshua loves talking about his future with you. he likes to picture you in his life forever, and to hear how you picture him in yours. sometimes it’s just sleepy late-night conversations, sometimes it’s the two of you cuddling in bed and creating pinterest boards on your phones. that way when one of you gets stressed about the future, you can remember you have a lifetime to figure things out together.

— jun + watching your favorite movies

especially at the beginning of the relationship! i feel like jun could ask you to make him a list of your favorite movies and offer to watch them together, because it’s a great way to get to know each other on a deeper level. and he’d be happy to make a list of his own as well! obviously many inside jokes would emerge from these movie nights, making you the kind of insufferable yet cute couple that can hold a full conversation with no one else understanding.

— hoshi + dancing in the kitchen

sometimes it starts with him slowly swinging from left to right as he hugs you from behind, leading to something rather tender. other times it’s him grabbing your arm and making you twirl on some catchy pop-rock song. it’s his own way of expressing how happy these small moments of domesticity make him. of course he’ll also throw some singing in there, and yes he will snatch the wooden spoon from your hands to turn it into a mic.

— wonwoo + taking pictures

there are two sides to that. the first one is when a particularly aesthetic situation occurs and you both take a bunch of pretty pictures. the second one is more personal, more spontaneous. it’s wonwoo sneaking snapshots of you doing mundane things like brushing your teeth or petting a stray cat. it’s also taking low quality selfies of the two of you doing nothing in bed (with you often wearing his clothes), or just during any moment you’ll want to remember and cherish forever.

— woozi + napping

ok let’s be real here: a busy man needs to optimize his time, which means that you will get dragged into bed with him so that he can collapse on top of you and sleep like a log. but what makes it fun are the moments when he shortly emerges from his slumber and changes his position like some sort of touch-starved zombie, frowning until he gets to trap you in his arms again. he loves to say you’re exaggerating when you tell him about it, but you’re absolutely not…

—dokyeom + day trips

he loves loves loves making memories with you, so he’ll gladly dedicate half of his weekend to go on various day trips with you! he’ll pack your lunches himself, make sure you don’t have to carry any bags throughout the day, and even carry you on his back if your feet start to hurt. your camera rolls are filled with pictures of these little trips, and he wouldn’t mind talking about them for hours to anyone who will listen. he might even make a little handmade scrapbook of these memories for your valentine’s day gift :3

— mingyu + grocery shopping

you always go to the same supermarket and the cashiers all think you’re their cutest clients because of how happy you look together. there’s just something about the way he pushes the cart while reading the grocery list out loud that makes you feel like the luckiest person on the planet. also, mingyu will always insist on buying you a little treat during every grocery trip. even when you’re not with him, he knows which ones are your favorite and he never ever gets it wrong.

— minghao + museum dates

it’s the epitome of peacefulness to him. holding your hand as you wander among the artworks, discussing them, sharing your thoughts and sometimes cracking jokes in each other’s ear. when he sees you getting closer to a painting or a sculpture, he’ll stay a few steps back to take a picture of you, a proud smile on his lips as he captures the moment. “again?” you ask when you catch him in the act. “you know you look too pretty to only take one,” he replies, leaving a kiss on your temple.

— seungkwan + skincare routine

you shared a face mask with him once and it’s become a regular occurrence ever since. of course seungkwan knows how to do his own skincare, but it’s so much better when you do it for him! head resting on your lap, you could make him wear your stupidest headband and he wouldn’t even complain. he likes how gentle you are when applying the products on his face, and he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

— vernon + flea market

he likes everything about it. he likes that little game you have of pointing two remotely associated items and saying ‘us’. he likes to come up with backstories for the things that are being sold. and you like to remind him of that time he pointed at a trinket and asked “who even buys that?” right in front of the person who was about to get it (but he lets you laugh about it, because he just loves hearing your laugh). all in all, it’s a privileged moment where he gets to enjoy the beauty of simple things with his favorite person, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

— dino + supporting your passions/hobbies

let me explain! obviously he loves it when you keep him company while he’s training or when you patiently listen to him ramble about it; so he’s really careful about reciprocating that energy as much as possible. that’s why he often comes to support you at your sports competitions, art shows, or just any kind of hobby you might have. he shows genuine interest and will always your biggest cheerleader no matter what, always pushing you to do your very best in what you love.

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euthymiya · 2 days

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hero’s compensation ft. diluc ragnvindr

in which you’re walking home, unaware of the news of a pesky samachurl that’s snuck into the city. luckily, the darknight hero is there to rescue you. except one thing: you didn’t expect him to be such a familiar face

contains: female reader ; childhood friends to lovers ; reader is attacked by a samachurl ; references to diluc’s story quest as the darknight hero ; so much tension lol ; lots of kissing ; confessions ; getting together ; this is a late bday offering for the first man that every genshin player falls for

in your defense, you hadn’t heard of the news to avoid this part of the city until the knights could take care of the little…threat that happens to lurk around the streets. you hadn’t noticed the samachurl at first—it noticed you, caging you with thorny vines in a small enclosure.

you’re doomed, you think—samachurls are small, yes, but still dangerous.

you dodge as the staff in its hand swings at you, a quick yet clumsy effort as you start to get tired. running away isn’t an option—not only because you’re trapped, but also because you wouldn’t want to risk bringing the monster deeper into the city. it’s rare for them to find their way past the gates, but it happens every once in a while. not often enough, however, that you’re prepared to handle this situation.

and then there’s a flash—something quick and sharp that swings past you towards the creature.

but unlike the samachurl’s staff, this particular object seems to purposely dodge you, hitting the creature square on its head as it stumbles back and shrieks. a dark (but very familiar) silhouette lunges past you, picking up what you realize is a claymore before swinging once more, the small body of the samachurl sent flying at the impact before slumping onto the ground, limp.

your hand is clutched to your heart, fisting at the material around your collar as you heave labored breaths, in and out. in and out. in and out.

it’s over. your savior is a man who vaguely tickles at a part of your brain incessantly, but you’re too busy with the adrenaline and fear pumping through your veins to fully grasp why that is just yet.

it’s not until a gloved hand settles on your shoulder and a voice calls to you, do you break out of your daze. “are you alright?” a low whisper asks you.

diluc. you look up, shocked and still slightly panicked as you blink at him. “wha—”

“this way! i saw a figure, i’m sure it’s the darknight hero for certain this time!”

the sound of footsteps and a distant voice interrupts you, and before you can figure out what’s happened, diluc has pulled you away, pressing you against the tight space between a stone wall and a staircase and caging you as the pounding footsteps run past you. he lets out a shaky sigh as the sounds become more and more distant, relief sagging into his shoulders once he’s sure the knights hadn’t seen you.

you’re not too worried about that, though. there are more pressing matters on your mind.

like that fact that he’s close. so close, that you can make out the small, ghost of a scar on his forehead from when you were kids. when he’d cut himself from the gravel as he chased after you and kaeya, fallen face first. you remember that day fondly—most of your memories with diluc are fond. some a little bittersweet, of course. long gone are the days where you could run freely with both brothers and have a good time, but memorable all the same.

the man you’ve grown up with is supposedly the same mysterious man you hear about whispered on the streets. the darknight hero—some praise him, in awe of his abilities and his work. others, not so much. the knights, for example, don’t take to his vigilante role too kindly.

you inhale sharply, still pressed close to him as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“so it’s you,” you murmur, stepping closer in the already tight enclosure and invading his space. he doesn’t mind, not really. it’s a slippery slope to press yourself against him like this, but you’ve never had a track record for taking easy routes.

“it’s me,” he confirms, eyeing you carefully, like he’s making sure that’s alright with you.

it is. nothing diluc does could be a problem for you, not when he’s saved your life and not when he’s so close you can practically feel him as he breathes in front of you.

“how did you know to find me?” you ask, looking him in the eyes until finally, he breaks, casting his gaze anywhere else but you as he clears his throat.

“i heard there was a samachurl in the area and—”

“diluc,” you say unimpressed, “i know you better than that.”

you know the answer. you know him better than anyone, in fact. you’ve grown up knowing him, knowing what he loves and hates. what makes him laugh and cry. the softness that still lingers underneath the hardened exterior that the world’s cruelty has layered over his innocence. nobody knows diluc like you do, just like nobody knows you like him.

he knew you were here, not because of some samachurl or some mild threat. you. because somehow, diluc has always made himself present, made himself available at even the most inopportune times when it comes to you.

that time you almost drowned at the lake by the winery as kids. that time you strayed too far and ran into a cryo slime by accident. that time you fell trying to pick grapes and twisted your ankle. that time you walked home late at night and got cornered by a drunk man from the tavern.

he’s always there, somehow, for some reason, always knows just when you need someone and makes sure it’s him who steps up to be the person.

“i was following you,” he admits, tense as he avoids your gaze.

“following me?” you gasp, “how scandalous! do you follow all young women as they walk the streets?”

“of course not,” he frowns, looking mildly bewildered, “i was following you.”

“i see,” you nod slowly, “worried i was incapable of walking myself home, were you?”

neither of you mention that you were incapable of walking yourself home tonight. his face twists into a sheepish expression as he rubs his neck awkwardly.

“it’s not that i find you incapable—i just…it’s just a precautionary measure for the sake of ensuring—”

“oh diluc, would it kill you to say you were worried about me?” you snort.

“quit being difficult,” he grumbles.

“forgive me,” you sigh dramatically, “i thought i could perhaps be clever and hear you admit you care about me. alas, it seems such a day won’t come any time soon.”

he flushes a light pink. it contrasts beautifully with his red hair, making your fingers itch to reach over and pinch his cheek. but he rolls his eyes, finally looking back at you and looking right into you with his piercing gaze as he says, “i was worried about you. does that satisfy you? not one day goes by that i’m not worried about you. you keep me up at night, enough that i’ve taken the safety of this city into my own hands.”

he stuns you into silence. it’s been so many years, so many years since he grew from that young boy you met. his hands became rougher, his shoulders became broader, his arms became stronger. he’s gone from practicing with a wooden sword to wielding that heavy greatsword of his. he’s not naive anymore, far less trusting and far more stoic. his dreams have changed and his ambitions aren’t what they used to be—but he’s still the same diluc that stole your breath and suffocated your throat even as a child.

you love him deeply, so much that it aches between your heart and lungs, in a spot only he can fit. a spot where he can squeeze against both organs, stop the beating in your chest and knock the air out of you. it’s dangerous, leaving you uncomfortably vulnerable.

so you do what you know best to counteract that strange pressure in your chest that makes it difficult to breathe, to speak, to do anything. you throw on a smile on your face and tease him to get under his skin, so that maybe, if he rolls his eyes at you, they won’t pierce into your soul as harshly.

“well it’s lovely to meet the darknight hero,” you grin, batting your lashes, “who’d have thought the city’s beloved master of the dawn winery was saving people from the shadows?”

“please don’t call me that,” he sighs, looking at you tiredly. the expression on his face makes you giggle. “it sounds awfully derivative to me.”

faintly, you’re aware that you’re still hidden in the corner behind the staircase, dead quiet in the middle of the night with just a sliver of space between you. you could just reach up and brush the bangs out of his face, maybe trace that scar you know so well, or even press the tip of your nose to his if you lean closer.

he seems to be aware of the proximity too, because his eyes dart to your lips for just a moment, inhaling sharply as he realizes just how close they are from touching his.

“what would you prefer i call you then?” you whisper.

he doesn’t say anything.

neither of you do, for a bit. just his eyes trained on yours as you both take shallow breaths, narrowly missing each others chests from grazing against one another as they rise and fall, rise and fall.

finally, he clears his throat.

you think he’ll say something—but he doesn’t. instead, he kisses you. enough is enough, he decides, and you’re compelled to agree. enough dancing around the wobbly line that separates you from friends and more than friends—you think it’s been enough years that neither of you do a good job of hiding the built up feelings anymore, anyway.

his lips are chapped. you can feel the stark difference between his and yours as they press up against your soft ones, disrupting your delicate existence with his roughness. it’s not unwelcome, though.

kissing diluc is blazingly warm. his lips, his body, his gloved hands, his breath, all of it is unbearably hot—enough that you feel like you’ll combust at any second. the pyro vision he keeps hung at his waist must make his body run warm, you think. you crave more heat, though. no matter how close you feel you are to the sun, you want more, so your arms wrap around his neck and tug him closer, tangling your fingers in those long fiery locks of his as he groans.

his hands roam your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you flush against his sturdy chest as his lips hungrily mold against yours. air is limited—there’s a burning in your lungs that slowly but surely builds until you pull away, panting for air.

his forehead presses to yours when you do, chest rising and falling as he catches his own breath with lips that are glossed and slightly swollen.

“if i told you what title i’d prefer you used on me, i’m afraid there would be no going back,” he mumbles against your lips.

you’d laugh if you weren’t so breathless and dizzy against him. you’d laugh at the fact that after such a shameless kiss in the dark, hidden corner of the city, he thinks anything he could say would change things more than this kiss has. they couldn’t—not when all your feelings have been laid bare without having said anything at all. a few mere words could never shift anything the way feelings his lips has.

not when you’ve gotten a taste of him, so sweet and hot against your lips, it’s like drinking rays of sun in the sheer cold of dragonspine.

“who said i want to go back?” you challenge, reaching over and tracing your finger along his cheekbone. he closes his eyes, letting out a soft, breathy laugh as he leans into your touch.

“then call me your lover,” he says instantly, “call me yours and i’ll consider us even.”

“even for what?” you raise a brow, looking at him in mild confusion.

he grins as he opens his eyes, leaning closer and kissing against your jaw until he works his way up just beneath your ear lobe, breath trickling the shell of your ear and making you shiver.

“for saving your life, of course,” he teases.

“hero’s don’t require compensation for their noble actions,” you huff, lips curling into a small pout—he pulls away to admire it before kissing it too with a short peck. (he’d tell you that you look adorable like this, but he doesn’t want to sour your mood any further). “and i was perfectly capable of handling that myself.”

“without a weapon?” he asks, looking at you knowingly.

“of course,” you say indignantly. “but if it should truly kill you to be mine, then…” you trail off, leaning to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, making his fingers dig into your hips slightly as he fights the urge to take more, to turn his head and get a proper kiss out of you.

“then…?” he rasps, impatient.

“then i suppose i can call you my lover,” you hum, finally giving into that overwhelming urge of brushing his bangs back, tracing the scar from your past with your thumb. “would that satisfy you, master diluc?”

“just diluc is fine,” he mutters, heat returning to his skin, “i’ve told you that plenty.”

“diluc,” you murmur, voice softer this time, “thank you for saving me. for always saving me.”

“of course,” he swallows thickly, “i will always come to rescue you. i promise.”

“and i love you for it,” you confess, just barely audible, “i always have. since before i knew what love meant.”

even in the dark shadows of the dim corner he has you pressed against, light breaks over his face as he smiles, so charming, so boyish, you think he’s reverted back to the boy you met when you were so young.

“and i have always loved you,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing you one more time, just to remind himself how you feel, “you taught me what love means.”

oh i miss mondstadt and the winery and my first joy of genshin 🥹 diluc the man that you are. you have not gone forgotten in my mind i promise

#writing tag #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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luvelylaconic · 1 day

Text

Jealous? Nah. (Yes.)

Gojo x Fem Reader (part 1): MINORS DNI

In which, you befriend Suguru and it doesn't sit well with Satoru. He's sure it's just because he doesn't want to lose his best friend, right?

Content: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Eventual smut, Jujutsu College AU, Slight Toxic Relationship, Sexual Themes

(Authors Note: This started off as a oneshot but then I just kept on writing... and then I had more ideas for it. I also have a BUNCH of unfinished oneshots so im hoping by publishing this it will motivate me to actually finish something lmao.)

<3 -

Gojo knew he wasn't one to settle down. His ego was overwhelming to most and he was far too conceited to even think about a relationship- and yeah, even he admits he is (maybe) narcissistic.

And he had every right to be. He was the chosen one after all and everyone dulled in comparison to him. He was the one that was blessed with a strength and technique nobody could compete with- he was THE Gojo Satoru.

So what absolutely confused him is how you always happened to enter his mind. Since at first, you were just another sorcerer that joined late at his school that he had to begrudgingly share his best friend with, since you were friends with him too after all. (but he reminds himself you two would never be as close as friends as he is with him.)

But the dynamic soon changed when Suguru insisted on hanging out as a group after he couldn't help but complain that he didn't get so see him as often since she was taking all his time away. And he was absolutely frustrated over it, he should've just kept his mouth shut.

But the frustration didn't stem from you being obnoxious or difficult to be around, it was the complete opposite in fact. You were too nice. But not the kind where it seemed forced, it was actually genuine. You also easily engaged in conversations with anyone and everybody, instantly catching the attention of random people who wanted just a chance to be noticed by your gaze. And he admitted, you were captivating- but that only served to annoy him. It all meant nothing if you couldn't hold yourself in a fight. Being pretty served nothing when it meant you would die to a simple curse somewhere down the line.

But Satoru quickly had to eat his words after overhearing that you had been promoted to a Grade 1 sorcerer. How? You seemed so gentle and docile, he had just automatically assumed you were nothing above a grade 3.

He was sure it happened to be a mistake, that maybe another sorcerer was with you in a mission who did something impressive and you somehow got credit for it, or someone bribed the higher ups, or maybe you personally knew a higher up? That seemed more probable. And to investigate, he pulled some strings to have you sent out on a mission with him.

And god- he was getting real tired and of being wrong. You were completely different person when you were fighting. You were borderline chaotic, completely ruthless to curses and had a technique and fighting style he would have never expected from you. Your kind nature dissipated almost instantly, barely giving him time to process what was even happening. Safe to say you exorcised the curse without a problem.

And ever since then, he found himself thinking about you too often, much to his dismay. Replaying the fight over and over again in his mind; how you dominated the humanlike creature with such ease, your body so graceful yet powerful, and how maybe... you were like that in other situations as well. Imagining how you would fight with him for dominance, taking on a different character that only he could see and nobody else - stop stop stop.

He groaned in frustration, getting up from his bed and ignoring the slight tightness in his pants. It was the wrong time to be thinking about these things, he had plans with the group, you included. Wait no- it was the wrong time all the time.

He then gave himself some leeway time to calm himself and his thoughts down. Well knowing he was going to be late to the planned lunch. Whatever, it was expected of him by now.

But what wasn't expected was the scene he happened to walk in to; everything seemed normal for the most part, everything except for the fact Suguru sat next to you, his arm extended across the top of the booth, dangerously close to being wrapped around your shoulders.

Something about it made him upset, staring at the two intensely as he slowly walked over. He quickly attempted to fault it at the fact he was jealous over you stealing Suguru away from him, nothing else.

And to keep normalcy, he loudly gagged and motioned his hands towards his throat,

"Gross, get a room."

Upon hearing his voice, Shoko rolled her eyes while the other two simply ignored him, continuing on their conversation. Or maybe they simply didn't hear him, but he still assumes they're ignoring him.

Satoru did not like being ignored,

"Tough audience.", he muttered as he slid into the booth directly across from you, letting his shoulders fall and setting his head face down on the table.

His behavior made you laugh lightly, finally turning your attention to the dramatic man,

"Traffic?", you questioned, well knowing he could get faster here without a car and more than likely, chose to be late. But you assumed it was nice to ask anyway.

Despite his attempts at sulking, he moved his shades down and lifted his head to meet your eyes upon hearing your voice, deeply breathing in,

"Something like that."

The raven haired man next to you eyed down his friend, knowing something was bothering him. He had a suspicion, but he pushed it aside for now. He'll figure it out sooner or later. But for now, he just simple smiled at his friend, giving a simple wave. He also made sure to keep his arm exactly where it was too, maybe even letting it fall closer.

And for the most part, the lunch went normal. Except for one, minor (okay major) thing;

For some extreme, bizarre reason- Gojo was nearly quiet the entire time. Quiet. Except for a few simple comments he couldn't help but make- of course.

But everyone knew it was extremely out of character for him. He was not one to simply go silent. His favorite topic to talk about was himself, he never missed an opportunity to humorously make fun of someone, or in return compliment himself in some manner. He never ran out of things to say.

So when the others were beginning to finish up, they had yet to mention the obvious elephant in the room. Simply choosing to ignore it- knowing the egotistical man would prefer to not have it mentioned than anyone insinuate that he has a problem or issue.

And everyone went on with their day like normal. Except for Satoru that is.

He sat on a chair in his room, his brows furrowed as he looked through his phone to find your social medias, desperate to find more about you. Something to ruin your personality, to prove that you weren't as a good person as you pulled off to be. Or maybe bad photos that could warp his image he had of you- that you were actually ugly and wearing really good makeup and not pretty after all.

But what he found only aggravated him even more. Your photos you had posted made you look ethereal, whether they were candid and simple or taken with the most highest quality and planned photoshoots. All your posts were absolutely social media worthy, showing the best angles of you. Of course they fucking were.

Your tagged photos also had nothing bad, but rather the opposite. Seeing you in group photos, you stood out drastically. Your smile brighter than anyone else's, your outfits better than any other girls'. But, who were all these people you were with? Were you that popular? He never really saw you with any other friends.

And the older photos dating years back just showed how you only got better looking with age, not that you were ever bad looking in the slightest.

Still desperate, he began to vigorously look through your stories; mainly being met with more photos of yourself, your childhood pets, and random scenery. But he quickly stopped once he was met with a familiar face.

It was Suguru. And by the looks of it, it seems you befriended Shoko first and within a few weeks, Suguru began making an appearance onto your social media as well. Weeks ago. How did he not know about you earlier?

The familiar feeling in his stomach then returned after seeing a photo of only you and Suguru, clearly hanging out without anyone else. It only got worse as he tried to tap away from it but only got more and more pictures of the two of you; out eating, at a concert- fuck, he even recognized Suguru's shoe in the corner of a picture you took of your coffee.

And if Shoko knew you first, why didn't she introduce him as well? Why only his friend? And how did you guys get so close so fast? He's still Suguru's best friend, right?

His deranged, icy eyes began to scan anything else your account would give him;

You had a lot of followers and a lot of likes on your post.

So he went through each and every account that had liked your post, who followed you, or who you followed.

He even deduced it down to who liked your posts the most, who you were actual friends with, people you seemed to have a falling out with and don't follow anymore, and possible romantic interests. Suguru was of course on that list, much to his disliking.

He's sure he was only like this for his best friends sake. He didn't want him to get in a relationship with a girl that didn't deserve him or had something to hide. Right?'

And after an hour of agonizing scrolling and searching, he finally threw his phone across the room in frustration.

He was determined to find something, anything. And once he was determined, it was only a matter of time.

#gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x reader #slow burn #jjk x reader #gojo x you

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ilyrafe · 3 days

Text

𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: angst, physical injuries, blood (it's brief), objetification of reader (not by rafe).

word count: 1,1k

the vibrating sound of your phone on the bedside table startles you a bit. even with your vision blurry, you manage to read rafe’s name shining on the screen. it’s late, the clock marks fifteen past two, and getting a call from him at this time is worrying, but fighting the fatigue, you answer his call.

“hello?”

“it’s me. you home?” his tone is urgent, which worries you even more. he’s definitely in trouble.

“why?”

“are you home or not?”

“yes, rafe. why are you calling me?”

“i’m at your door and i need your help right now.”

he hangs up abruptly and you sigh, anticipating yet another stressful interaction with rafe. it’s in situations like these that you wonder why you gave him the time of the day for almost a whole year of your life.

rafe is trouble, and you want none of it.

you quickly get up and head to the entrance of your small house. small, but yours. all the furniture, even if it is second-hand, is yours, as it was bought with your money, earned with a lot of sweat, something rafe will never understand.

as soon as you open the door, you come across a bruised and bloody rafe, which scares you. before you can say anything, he enters your house and sits on the tiny couch.

the scene is deplorable.

“rafe! what- what the hell happened to you?!”

“been in a fight, alright? i just can’t come back home looking like this.”

“in a fight with who?”

“i doesn’t matter. just help me.”

you sigh, tired and irritated. rafe is difficult to deal with. he beats the others out of tiredness and that is irritating. you go to the bathroom and grab a small bag with first aid items, and return to the living room right away, sitting next to him on the couch.

he winces when you pat the cotton ball on his bruises, but you don’t feel bad at all. this is what he deserves. you avoid looking him in the eye while you’re cleaning his face up. you know you can’t resist his baby blues.

you take his hands in yours. the contrast of size is beautiful, somehow. his huge, calloused hands with golden rings have always been attractive. his knuckles are red and quite swollen. you clean his hands up and only hear rafe’s huffs when he feels the sting of the rubbing alcohol. you might be doing that on purpose.

very quickly, you put some bandaids where you find necessary and bandage his hand up, where it’s swollen.

“all done.”

“thank you.”

oh, he knows the magic words. you know you’ll regret it, but you have to ask.

“what happened, rafe?”

he sighs and leans back, taking a deep, exhaustive breath.

“it doesn’t matter, y/n. it’s solved, it’s done.”

“you woke me up in the middle of the night, came over unannounced and made me patch you up. i deserve to know what the fuck happened and if i’m in trouble.”

“you’re not in trouble.” he clarifies, as he passes his fingers over the gauze on his hand. “one of barry’s friends said some weird shit about you.”

“who said what?” you frown.

you never really liked barry, let alone his “friends”. they’re beyond shady and you hate how rafe keeps them in his life.

“you don’t want to know.” you cock an eyebrow and rafe sighs once again, defeated. “babe, it’s inappropriate, don’t make me repeat it.”

babe. you forgot how much you loved when rafe called you sweet nicknames. yes, rafe is an overall asshole, but he isn’t all bad, you have to admit it. the thing is that he actively lets his bad side take over, and you can’t handle that.

“say it.”

“it was bryan. he, um… he said he… um…”

“say it, rafe.”

“he said he hoped to be the next in line to be inside your c-”

“okay, i get it.” you feel like crying and throwing up, but you maintain your composure. “he said that because he wanted to get to you, rafe, that’s all. i’ve never even spoken to him.”

you don’t know why you’re explaining yourself to rafe, but you feel like you have to. for some reason, you don’t want him to think you’re a slut that fucks every guy. deep down, you want rafe to realize he lost something really great, but that day may never come.

“i know, i’m not worried about that.” he says. “i just don’t want him near you.”

“rafe-”

“i know we’re not together anymore, and i swear i’m not being controlling, but bryan is bad and i don’t want him near you, ever. okay?”

“okay.”

after your response, rafe seems to relax a bit. he closes his eyes and his smug makes a comeback.

“you should’ve seen his face. what a bitch.”

you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“thank you for defending me, but really, let them talk. they just want to get to you.”

“now they know what happens when they speak of you.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between you both; it’s comfortable.

rafe seems tired, and you really don’t want him to leave, but you know it’s not going to end well if he stays over.

it’s been over four months since the definitive breakup and you’ve tried to go no contact with rafe, but it’s hard because you live in the same place, you have the same friends and rafe never wanted to stop talking to you.

“i still feel like i need to protect you,” he says, breaking the silence.

you lay next to him, your faces being so close, your noses are almost touching. this is dangerous territory, but you don’t care at this point. you touch his cheek so softly, he closes his eyes again.

he leans in, trying to get to your lips, and they touch briefly, before you lean back, effectively rejecting his kiss.

“i think you should go.”

rafe stares at you, clearly hurt. he gets up from your couch and leaves.

if you could, you would do everything necessary to make this relationship work, but that means changing rafe completely, and you don’t know if you’re in love with rafe, or are resigned to the crumbs of kindness he gives you.

no relationship should survive on small moments of love, and you’re no longer satisfied by the thrill of having a good moment with rafe.

when you broke up with him, he begged you for another chance, but you had already given him a thousand chances. you’ve played this game before and you ended up hurt and slightly traumatized.

you can’t change rafe and he doesn’t want to help himself, so there’s nothing left for you to do.

i love feedback, tell me your thoughts! <3

#my writings #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey imagine

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 4 hours

Text

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc prompt #dcxdp #dead on main #dead on main ship #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt

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heeseungswifefr · 1 day

Text

brothers bestfriend!heeseung headcannons

MDNI!!

your brothers bestfriend is a menace, yet he's just too hot!

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who's always in your house, playing games with your brother jay.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who does everything to annoy you and your friends.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who thinks your adorable.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who's a menace, constantly throwing snacks and empty beer cans on the floor.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who flirts with all of your friends,trying to get a reaction out of you.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who thinks your cute when your angry.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who 'accidentally' looked through the keyhole, just to find you changing.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who goes in the bathroom to stroke one out.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who sleeps over almost every single night.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who texts you photos of himself,asking you to rate him.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who opens a text from you before you delete it, finding your wet nude body in the attachment.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who asks you if it was an accident, to which you say yes.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who immediately gets a boner.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who asks if he could come to your room.

brothers bestfriend!heeseung who starts making out with you on your bed.

"heeseung..fuck...we can't do this.," you say, gripping his hair tightly as he grinds his cock against your core. "But I want you so bad, baby." he whispers while kissing your neck, bucking his hips up into yours, making you cum unexpectedly. he cups your wet mound over the thin fabric of your shorts. "you came? Just from that?" he chuckles, teasing you. "shut up and f-fuck me heeseung.." You say, covering your face with your hands. "well fuck.. you should've told me sooner, pretty." he states, taking your shorts off. He motioned at you to take your shirt off,to which you lifted it off of your head. "Pretty tits..just as I expected." he says, cupping the soft flesh in his hands, latching his mouth onto one of your hard nipples. "seungie- haaah!~ shit.." you whine.. "I'll give you what you want pretty,..wait." he says, tweaking with your nipples. "pleasee! I want you s'badddd!" you say. as soon as those words came out of your mouth, heeseung took his pants and boxers off, spitting onto his cock and stroking it. "do you have a condom?" he asks you. "I'm on the pill...j-just hurry up and fuck me.." heeseung taps his cock on your clit,making you elicit a obscenely loud moan. He put your legs on his shoulders, slowly pushing into your cunt. He covered your mouth to prevent any moans. "You gotta be quiet..y'dont want jay to hear right?" he whispers into your ear, thrusting his cock harshly into your cunt. "B-but 's too good! hnnhg~-" you moan loudly as he hit your sweet spot. "I found it,right baby?" he asks you in a raspy voice,making you clench around him. "Seungie- I'm gonna cummm!! so good~" you whine, rubbing your clit hard with your middle finger. "are you g'nna make a mess on my cock pretty?" he questions, seeing you arch your back. the way your tits bounced with every thrust...oh god this is what heeseung dreamt of. "mhmm mhh! I'm gonna cummm!" you say, feeling your orgasm coming. but this time it felt different..oddly too different. "Your squeezing me so hard, calm down baby.." he says to you. your cunt squelches around him, a gush of clear liquid coming out of your pussy. Luckily, heeseung knew what to do in this situation, pulling out and rubbing his cock side to side on your swollen clit,making your legs tremble. "aww, did you just squirt on me, pretty girl? That's hot." he cooes, pushing his cock inside of your cunt once again. "seungie stop! m'sensitive..~" you clench down continuously on his cock. one thrust is all it takes for him to cum in your wet pussy. "haah~ fuuuckk baby..!" he whimpers, slowly pulling out of your cunt. he uses his fingers to rub the remaining cum on your pussy, making a little heart. "w-what if jay finds out.?" you ask him, as he lays down next to you. He replies with "he won't, don't worry." kissing your forehead gently. but the next morning,you wake up to jay arguing with heeseung. "what a mess.." you murmur.

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 2 days

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Hello, I miss the show and everyonez writtings help keep the essence of it going. What if: x and Sam lose Dean as in the show and they fight their feelings as to not betray Dean but atlas the give in and little Dean is born. Just a thought. Thank u.

Or Dean meeting his gf parents for the 1st time, that be cute.

Always You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: ~2,058

In which Dean meets the reader’s parents for the first time.

A/N: This has been in my inbox for wayyyy too long and I’d like to give a formal apology for that. It's a short fic, but I hope you enjoy it!!

Relationships between hunters didn’t last forever. It was something that all hunters knew, which is why relationships were something that most hunters avoided. It was an unspoken rule.

Dean Winchester had never been a fan of rules.

At the moment though, he couldn’t help but wish that he had followed the rules. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation, on one of his most important missions yet.

Meeting his girlfriend’s parents.

He looked in the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He was wearing his usual flannel button up and pants, his hair a bit mussed.

You had insisted that the gathering was completely casual, and that your parents would like it a lot better if he showed up as himself instead of playing a part to try and impress them. But as he continued looking himself over, he couldn’t help but start to second guess your judgment, even if he knew by now that you were always right.

He heard the door to his room open, his eyes finding yours in the mirror. You were dressed in casual clothes as well, a simple shirt and pants, looking more at ease and comfortable than he’d seen you in a while.

Not to say that you were never at ease. But most days, the two of you were in your hunter gear, or at least carrying concealed weapons on you. Even when you had a day without hunting, when you posed as regular civilians, you had a look of caution in your eyes and a hand near your knife. You were never really at rest, even when you were asleep, with one hand on the gun under your pillow. But today, he silently thanked your parents for inviting the two of you over if it meant he could see you in a calm state for a few hours.

You smiled lightly as you looked him up and down. “You ready?”

He shook his head, still looking at you in the mirror. “You sure I shouldn’t show up in a suit?”

You laughed as you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, your chin resting lightly on his shoulder. “No way, they’d think you were totally pretentious. And kind of a jerk.”

“We’re hunters, being pretentious is part of the job.”

“Maybe with regular civilians, yeah. But not with each other.”

Dean’s eyes softened and he turned, gathering you up in his arms. Being a hunter had taken everything from him. His friends, his family, and even his brother more than a few times. It had taken you too, once.

He gripped you tighter. Those few months without you had been absolute torture. He’d gotten more reckless, more aggressive. He’d tried to push Sam away, and isolate himself from the rest of the world. But Sam hadn’t let Dean give up on you. The two of them had worked tirelessly to find a way to get you back.

Multiple failed attempts had worn Dean out quickly. But Sam never tired, and never quit. He knew he would have given anything to get Jess back, and he wouldn’t let the same thing happen to his brother.

And then one day, their efforts paid off.

Dean snapped out of his thoughts as you pulled back. You tilted your head, looking up at him with concern. “You okay?”

Dean smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Yeah, I’m alright. You ready?”

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “I’m ready.” You walked towards the door before turning back to look at Dean, a smile on your face. “You coming, Winchester?”

He grinned. “Lead the way.”

~~~

The two of you stood side by side, Dean tense and rigid. You looked over at him and nudged him gently. “You’re going to do great. You brought me back to life, remember? Literally. They already love you for that.”

Dean nodded stiffly as the door in front of them opened. He immediately relaxed his stance and watched as a big smile broke out over your mom’s face.

She stepped forward and held you in her arms tightly, tears streaming down her face. She pulled back and brushed your hair away from your face. “My baby, my baby,” she mumbled as she pulled you in again to pepper kisses across your face.

You laughed and pulled back against her grip. “Nice to see you too, mom.” You turned towards your boyfriend and motioned towards him. “This is Dean.”

Your mom smiled gently. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean plastered on a charming grin, reaching out a hand politely. “Nice to meet-”

He cut off as your mom stepped forward and embraced him, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

Dean froze.

It had been so long since someone other than you or Sam had given him any time of physical affection. It was…..nice. He could feel a warmth in his heart. A warmth that felt almost familiar. One that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

He slowly wrapped his arms around your mom, allowing the tension to slowly ease out of him.

Your mom held him tighter. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For bringing her back.” She pulled back and set a light hand on his cheek before nodding and turning away.

She grabbed onto your hand and started to pull you inside the house. “Hurry up, you two, before the food gets cold.”

~~~

Dean steadied himself against the bathroom sink, his fingers clutching on to the edge so tightly that they were turning white.

He had expected many things when he had come to your house, and had even prepared for many worst case scenarios. Maybe the group of you would be ambushed by demons, or jumped by angels. Maybe your parents would hate him and he’d never be able to show his face in front of them again.

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for your parents to be so kind.

After your mom had dragged the two of you into the house, you had been engulfed in another hug by your dad, his eyes wet and his grip tight even as you laughed and reassured him that you were here, and you were okay, and you were alive.

When he had finally let go, your father had turned his eyes on Dean, straightening up and walking forward purposefully. Dean reached out a hand once again. “Nice to meet you, Mr. -”

For the second time in only a few minutes, Dean was cut off and pulled into a warm embrace. Your father was silent, but his hug was warm and strong, one of his hands on the back of Dean’s neck, almost as though he were cradling him gently.

The warm feeling was filling Dean’s heart again, but this time, he could remember where he recognized it from. It was the same feeling that he’d gotten every time Bobby would pull him into a hug after a bad hunt. It was the feeling he’d gotten when Bobby had taken him out to be a regular boy for a few hours when his dad was off on a hunt. It was a feeling of safety and security.

It was a feeling that he’d thought he’d never have again.

As soon as he’d been released, Dean had excused himself and asked for directions to the bathroom, pretending that he didn’t see your worried expression as he hurried away.

Now, as he braced himself against the bathroom sink, he couldn’t help but curse under his breath. What was he doing? He was Dean freaking Winchester. He’d killed vampires and ghosts, fought angels and demons, and crawled back from Hell itself. So why was it so hard for him to face your parents?

He took a deep breath, releasing his death grip on the sink and stepping back, looking up at himself in the mirror. It was only for a few hours. He could handle this for a few hours.

A light knock sounded at the door, causing Dean’s head to swivel quickly. He ignored his pounding heart as he walked towards the door and opened it, coming face to face with you, a worried smile on your face.

“Hey,” you said, your eyes scanning his face for any indication of what was bothering him. “You okay?”

Dean forced a smile on his face, nodding once and giving you a wink. “You couldn’t stay away from me for more than a minute, huh?”

You tilted your head, still staring. You’d been worried that something like this would happen. You had voiced your concerns to Sam just yesterday, asking if maybe introducing him to your loving and huggy parents was a bad idea, since Dean was the first to admit that he wasn’t big on ‘mushy crap’.

Sam had understood what you were really asking almost immediately. “It’s definitely been a while since he’s had to do something like this,” Sam admitted. “But I think it’ll be good for him to finally feel like a part of something like this again.”

You had smiled softly. “He already has that with us.”

Sam had smiled back at you, choosing to wrap you up in a tight embrace instead of responding.

Now, though, you couldn’t help but with that you’d listened to your anxious mind and kept Dean far away from your parents.

His eyes were darting behind you, as though afraid that your parents would walk in and see him in this state. You pretended not to notice his nervous glances as you reached a hand up and gently cupped his cheek. “We can leave if you’re ready. I’ll say that Gar called with a new hunt.”

Dean pulled back, a mask falling over his face as he gave you another infamous Winchester smile. “You kidding? I can smell the pie from here. Come on, let’s go,” he said as he grabbed one of your hands and gently pulled you forward.

You dug your heels into the ground. “Dean.”

You waited until he turned to face you, a grimace taking the place of his false smile.

“The fact that you even tried,” you said as you took a step forward. “Means the world to me. You mean the world to me. If you want to head out, that’s okay. Honest.” You tilted your head again, a smile slowly forming on your lips. “And if you want to stay, I promise to let you eat all the pie you want. My mom is a gracious server.”

Dean let out a slow exhale at your words. You could practically see his mind working, trying to come up with a solution that would be beneficial for the both of you. Not that you wouldn’t support whatever decision he made. Spending time with your boyfriend without an angry Spirit chasing after you was already a perfect day in your book.

After a moment, Dean looked back down at you, the corner of his lips twitching. “All the pie I want, huh?”

Your smile grew. “And I won’t even tell Sam.”

Dean stared into your eyes, his heart slowing and the fear in his chest dissipating. And he was hit once again with a fact that he always seemed to forget in the face of his hardest battles. He could face anything, as long as he was with you.

The hunter exhaled slowly as you looked up at him with love in your eyes. “Well, how can I turn down an offer like that?” Dean asked with a grin. He reached out and grasped your hand gently, pulling you after him as he made his way back into the dining room.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as he had hoped. Maybe it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But as Dean looked back at you, joy and hope in your eyes, he knew that he would go through it over and over again if it made you happy.

You met his eyes, a spark of amusement dancing over your features. “I knew I could win you over with pie,” you said, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.

It wasn’t the pie, Dean wanted to say as the two of you entered the dining room. Your parents greeted the two of you with broad smiles and plates full of food. It was you.

Always you.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 hours

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WIBTA for telling my mom to either go to therapy or shut up + possibly blowing an airhorn or something in response?

(the airhorn thing is like 80% a joke)

We've had a long string of bad events happen in the last few years. And when I say "we" I mean WE. Each of these things have affected both of us. I don't want to go into too much detail for privacy reasons, but it has been 5 solid years (so far) of bad events.

I won't sugarcoat it. Shit's definitely fucked. And I don't blame my mom for being negatively affected by it all. HOWEVER it does not help the situation to constantly complain about it. My mom has been progressively complaining more and more about how miserable she is to the point where I honestly do not remember the last time we had a day without her complaining about being miserable. (Yes, this includes holidays and both of our birthdays, which I've tried to make holidays and her birthday as good as possible for her, yet she complained about everything I DIDN'T do)

That in itself is irritating, but I could let it slide if we were both putting in equal effort. But in the past 4.5 years, I have been the only one working. It's not the best job (retail) but it's better than nothing and I at least make some money. My mom gets disability, which is not much, plus she gambles and sometimes wins, but not much. She pays for food and gas when she can, but 90% it is out of my pocket. She has not been looking for a job. (she herself said she could get a job as long as it's under a certain amount of hours so she doesn't lose benefits or she could work under the table and explicitly said she planned on doing so and then just...didn't) My job has been cutting all of our hours and the job hunt is not going well, so I make about $150 a week.

Now, I try very VERY hard not to complain about any of this. Especially since I was telling my mom about my days at work for a while and while I honestly thought I was just recalling my day, she pointed out to me that I was constantly complaining about everything and didn't have anything positive or neutral to say. I listened to what she said and ever since, I have been very conscious about not complaining about work. Now I only talk about my job if I have a specific question about something that I want to talk to her about or if something unusual happened, but I make sure it is only positive or neutral. (One time, a customer brought in an iguana. I don't work in a pet store. I told my mom about it.)

However, my mom is still complaining regularly about how miserable she is, yet isn't doing anything to help herself. (from what I can tell) She has progressively complained more and more to the point where she hasn't gone a single day in 2 months without saying how miserable she is.

It's irritating and exhausting to be around. I have asked her multiple times to please try not to complain as much and I take every opportunity I can to be away from her (covering shifts at work, going out with my friend, etc) but every time I'm near her, she's either sleeping or awake and complaining. I've just about had it. I don't know how else to convince her to stop complaining. I regularly have earbuds in just to give the appearance that I'm listening to something just so she doesn't complain to me as much. Even this doesn't work, as she then started poking me to get my attention just to get me to take out my earbud to hear her complain.

At this point, blowing an airhorn whenever she complains seems to be the only thing that might work.

#aita #am i the asshole

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themetaphorgirl · 2 days

Text

where I've been

hello friends! it's me!

I know my presence has been really hit or miss over the past year and change. if you want the short version, life has just been really tough, but I'm at the point where I really want to feel like life feels more normal again, which includes writing and posting and being more active.

if you'd like the deluxe edition of what's been going on, I do feel like I want to share what's been happening. it's been really rough and the next steps are only going to be more difficult, so knowing I have friends rooting for me will really help.

you don't have to read if you don't want to, it's kind of a bummer! the biggest takeaway is that I've been going through a garbage time but I want to start writing regularly again, so hopefully you'll see a lot more of me moving forward.

everything else below the cut!

tw: pregnancy, pregnancy loss

okay so. y'all know I got married in December 2022 (and we are still very happily married!!). we've known from the getgo that we want a family, but hadn't quite pulled the trigger.

well, there was another situation that happened that made me realize that I really wanted to start trying now, but it also unlocked a really deep trauma. when I was 23 I was in a really horrible relationship, and I got pregnant. and I ended up miscarrying pretty early on. and I got zero support. that's the short version.

I ended up, I guess for my own sanity, blocking it out. there's big gaps in my memory that just. don't exist. and for a long time I told myself it didn't happen. later, when I acknowledged that it did happen, I told myself that it was for the best, that I would have been a bad mother at that point in my life, that I would have had to maintain contact with my ex, that it just wasn't the right time and it was a good thing that I lost my baby.

the problem was I never grieved. I never healed. it was all just locked away and festering and killing me slowly.

so I ended up spending a good part of last year grieving and trying to deal with pain that I should have dealt with years ago. which...let me tell you, it's a rough process.

and at the same time, I realized that I wanted to start trying. my whole life I've wanted to be a mom. I've wanted five kids for as long as I can remember. Every time I pictured the future I pictured children. And I didn't want to wait anymore. which...is extra complicated to start that process when you're also in the midst of unpacking trauma.

and as you might have guessed...I'm not pregnant yet.

I'm very lucky that my work has a great medical program and they don't have waiting periods to see fertility specialists, so I started seeing doctors last April. And there's nothing wrong. I've done bloodwork, I've done ultrasounds, I've done so many tests, Shane has been tested. We've done three medicated cycles with trigger shots. They can't find anything wrong. They keep shrugging and saying that it's just the matter of the right time.

Unexplained infertility is a bitch.

It's so painful. It's so unfair. And because of my job I'm constantly doing orders for pregnancy announcements and gender reveals and baby's first Christmas. I cannot tell you how many times I've run to the bathroom to cry because I just can't handle being surrounded by reminders that I'm not anybody's mother yet.

I'm currently on cycle 17 of trying. which. that on its own hurts so much. s e v e n t e e n.

we have to hold off on starting the next steps because Shane lost his job (which is another absolutely insane stressor) but he's in a new job that he loves and pays better, and I'm getting a referral for a new clinic for a second opinion. but it looks like we're going to move forward with IVF.

I'm very very lucky that my work will pay for a significant amount towards IVF, but there's still payments we have to make, so we're working on getting our ducks in a row. and it's a terrifying prospect. medications and egg retrieval (my first surgery ever) and transfers. and the crippling fear that they won't get enough eggs or none of them will fertilize or the transfer won't be successful. it's eating me away. I've been feeling like such a shell of myself, every failed cycle feels like another piece of me has faded away.

right now I'm trying to focus on getting myself in as healthy as a place as possible, emotionally and physically, before we start procedures. am I still hoping that I'll get pregnant without IVF? oh, desperately. but at this point, nearly a year and a half into trying, this is probably going to be our best bet.

so moving forward, I'm hoping I can start doing things that make me happy again. I've spent most of the past year and a half being incredibly depressed and not really doing anything other than laying around in bed. I did discover Lockwood & Co thanks to Maeve, and that's helped so much because it gave me something new to think about and fixate on (and write for), but it's still been rough and sporadic. which, actually, is a good describer of how the past year has gone. I need to get back into living again.

in the meantime thank you for everybody who's checked in on me, especially QuiddoDitto. I haven't really had the energy to message back, but I've seen the comments and messages and it's meant so much to me while I slog through this.

hopefully things will get better soon! hopefully I start feeling like a person again! hopefully I'll be writing and posting regularly because I miss it!

and hopefully there'll be a baby in my arms soon.

#Caitlin’s real life

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hoedamn-eron · 2 days

Text

i'm calling my old therapist

Nathan just has a way of making you feel vulnerable.

Warnings: 18+ (no actual smut but some small descriptions of rough sex, and language). Mentions of humiliation. Swearing. Somewhat mentions of aftercare but Nathan isn't that great. Everyone here is emotionally constipated. An awful lot of dialogue. "Friends" with benefits situation. Nathan - as usual - is his own warning. Both parties need therapy, honestly. Not my best work no matter how many times I edit it, proofread but will still have mistakes. Word count: 1,882 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Your arrangement with Nathan is just fine. Just. Fine.

It works well for you both.

If you talked about it to anyone, though, you were sure they would call you a degenerate. You could blame the fact that you needed to let loose, that what you really needed was to start seeing your therapist again. But Nathan was at the right place at the right time, and you gladly took up his offer of a casual fling.

‘Stress relief’ was what he called it.

You’ve come to find that he’s into some really kinky shit, which you are totally okay with. He’s all about consent and communication, despite his default attitude being irritable and sarcastic.

Your relationship with Nathan had been going on for about a year. He’s completely ruined you for other men; not only because he does absolutely filthy things to you, but because he owns you mind, body, heart, and soul. He just doesn’t know it yet.

You sink deeper into the bath, hissing as your aching muscles protest. It was a particularly rough session; you’d been pinned to the bed, Nathan jackhammering his cock into you, where you’d been overstimulated beyond your limits and he didn’t let up, no matter how many times you begged and pleaded, it always ended up with you screaming his name in ecstasy. You couldn’t stop cumming and he loved it.

Of course you had a safe word, but you seldom used it. You didn’t ever feel the need to. You knew you were safe with him, not matter what harsh and demoralising name he called you.

You’d been in the bath long enough. You step out of the tub, quickly drying yourself off, just so you can get into one of those warm, fluffy bath robes that Nathan leaves for you on hanging on the bathroom door (he won’t disclose where he got them from - you have the sneaky suspicion that he doesn’t actually know, but he likes to keep you guessing on even the mundane things).

The steam from your bath leaks into the hallway as you open the bathroom door, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference, despite the robe you were wearing. You wander out the bathroom and find Nathan on the couch, wearing sweatpants and an old vest, nursing a half empty bottle of beer, looking like he hadn’t just fucking rocked your world into next week. You note the other two empty bottles on the coffee table. He’s scrolling through his phone.

You try not to ogle at him (you did always have a weakness for his arms), but he catches you staring anyway. You can’t read the look on his face.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi,” he answers back, putting the phone down on the arm of the couch.

Aftercare has never been his strong suit. Sure, he doesn’t treat you like trash after, but he could use some work. Nathan’s idea of aftercare is a smack on the ass, and a hearty comment of ‘good job’. Sometimes he’ll get you a water, or – like this time – he’ll run you a bath and leave you to it. But this is fine too. He talks to you after like nothing had happened; like whatever was said or done was meant in any way.

“You okay?” you ask, just trying to find something to say.

Nathan nods, his eyes still on you. “Mhm. Are you?”

You nod. “Yeah. Tired.”

Nathan grins and chuckles, shaking his head as he finally looks away from you. “Yeah, that was a lot.” He takes another sip of his beer.

You hate how normal he looks, how unaffected he was after sex, when your legs were often still shaking for an hour afterwards.

“Yeah…” you breathe, taking a seat on the couch, sitting as far away from him as you could. But that was more for his benefit.

“No regrets?” he asks, offering you his half drunken beer.

You shake your head at him before answering, “No regrets.”

Nathan gives a nod, taking another gulp of his beer. After a moment he sends over a lazy grin to you. “Is it bad I want to do it again?”

You snort in amusement. “I might need a week to recuperate.”

“But you would do it again?”

“Yeah…” you say, biting your lip as you nod. “Yeah. I’d do it again.”

Nathan gives a breathy laugh, looking at you again. There’s a warmth in his eyes. “But you need a break first?”

You nod with a soft grin. “My holes can’t take much more.”

There’s a silence around you as Nathan stares. You squirm a little, about to ask him what was wrong, before he says, “I gotta say, I could get addicted to you.”

He said it so casually, as if it wasn’t going to send your thoughts spiralling or cause your heart to beat out of your chest. It was probably loud enough that he could hear it.

But you keep it light. You send a smirk over to him. “You aren’t already?”

He laughs, his head leaning on the back of the couch.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob with the movement, his neck straining as he leans his head back. You want to bite him.

“I might be,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s so tempting to do it all again.”

“Give me a few days,” you say.

“Why? You a little weakling who can’t take a good fuck? Can’t handle when I call you a good little whore? Can’t stand when I make you cum so much that you turn into a dumb little fuck toy?”

“Shut up,” you say, giving him a kick to the thigh, but it barely phases him.

“Oh, did I hit a sore spot?” Nathan mocks, his bottom lip sticking out at he looks at you with mirth. “Did you get embarrassed?” he asks mockingly. “Did you cry over it? Because you did, in fact, do both of those things - ”

“Hey, you’re into all’a that shit too,” you snap, your eyes meeting his again.

“I’m into you.”

You weren’t expecting that, but you only give yourself a second to react before you retort with, “That’s the sappiest shit you’ve ever said to me.”

Nathan just smirks at you, and you want to just grab his face and kiss it right off of him. “And you liked it.”

You study him for a moment as he turns from you, finishing his beer before that bottle joins the other empty ones on the coffee table.

You don’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he could open you up and expose the deepest parts of you that you don’t show to anyone else, or it’s because he’s so good looking, and so out of your league that you want him to want you, or it’s because – despite his attitude towards you, and everyone else he knows – you both deeply respect and trust each other. You honour each other's boundaries and decisions, and you feel secure in the relationship you've built together.

Despite the primarily physical (and it is feral) nature of your relationship (if you could honestly call it that, really), you've somewhat developed a level of emotional intimacy with Nathan (as much as you can, regarding your situation). At times, you find yourself yearning for a deeper connection with him. Maybe this is your opportunity.

“I love you,” you say.

There is a long, long pause as he stares at you. The longer he stares without reacting, the more you regret your words, your cheeks warming.

“Wow,” he says after a while, almost surprised. “I think those are the only words you’ve ever said to me that actually caught me off-guard.”

You avert your gaze, curling your arms around yourself, wanting to disappear.

But the next thing you know, he’s moving towards you on the couch, his stare unwavering on you. He reaches out, his hand landing softly on your forearm, where he squeezes gently. “Was that hard for you? To say you love me?” He asks with a small grin.

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you. You want to push him away, to tell him he’s egotistical and the world’s biggest asshole, because he knows it was hard for you. “You know I don’t express myself very well…I don’t ‘do’ emotions.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Nathan with a grin. “I can tell by the way you react around me when we’re not fuckin’.”

You merely roll your eyes.

“Or when I was saying the cruellest things to you and you just take it like the good little puppy you are,” he says with an almost sadistic grin.

You scoff and shove him away from you. “I take it back.”

“No backsies,” he says immediately, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms around you.

“No, I do backsies,” you say, and despite your words, you melt in his embrace.

“Nope, not allowed,” he says. “Because you told me you loved me, and now you can’t take it back. That’s not how it works.”

“People take back love all the time,” you mutter, your eyes closing as you bury yourself into his chest, where you could hear his heart beating rhythmically.

“But right now, in this moment, you just told me that you love me,” said Nathan, as if talking about the weather. “And I loved hearing it. So it doesn't matter if it's ever revoked, because you just gave it to me...and now you can't go back on that. It’s out there forever.”

“Jesus,” you breathe, the embarrassment rolling of you in waves.

“Hey, hey,” he says, cupping your face in his large palms, forcing you to look at him. You hate that he can read you like a book. “That’s all that matters here,” he says with another grin. “That said, I’m going make you say it again.”

You roll your eyes. He’s always so sure of himself, the cocky bastard.

He doesn’t relent. “Say it again,” he whispered, his eyes determined but soft as he stares at you.

You take him in and that’s when it hits you. He needs to hear you say it. He isn’t teasing you, he needs the affirmation, the feeling of being wanted; ironic, since the things he did and said to you earlier would make a nun blush.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

After a few moments, he smiles. “Did you have to stop and think about it that time?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Good,” he says softly. “So I can take it as a given now that I can tease you relentlessly about it?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head with a laugh.

“I’m going to anyway,” said Nathan, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he lets you go, and he stands from the couch, stretching as he makes his way into the kitchen, probably to grab another beer.

It doesn’t upset you that he doesn’t say it back. You didn’t expect him to. He has his own issues and you have yours. The guy in an enigma and you honestly wouldn’t have him any other way.

You give a snort of amusement. You’re so fucked. “I’m gonna call up my old therapist.”

“You have a therapist?”

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan x reader #ex machina #Oscar Isaac #angsty i guess?#but not really #is it toxic if it's consensual?

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 5 hours

Note

I love reading ur hcs!! I'm not much a writer but it's interesting to read about the what if situations about my fav characters, so tysm for that <3

anyway, may I request twin dragons hcs? I don't think I've seen much abt them, or if you already did one, can you point me out which post is it?

thank you!! <333

Ah I actually haven't done them yet, so here are some for the twin dragons!

Luna and Mana are practically Draken's sisters too, they see him as another big brother.

A lot of the time Draken and Mitsuya don't even have to tell each other what they're thinking, they just exchange looks and know.

It's common for Mitsuya to cook for Draken

They tried to come up with a secret handshake at least once

Both of them were so excited to have a "sworn brother". Draken because he never had any siblings and Mitsuya because he finally had one his own age.

Mitsuya wasn't that worried during the 8/3 fight and before because he trusted that Draken could handle anything.

They're both very comfortable riding each others bikes and letting each other drive their bikes (this isn't something many people are allowed to do, especially with Draken's bike)

Mitsuya made Draken's jacket that he's wearing on his inside cover.

Draken will help out at Mitsuya's house if Mitsuya is overworked.

When Mikey killed Mitsuya in the manila timeline, his last words were him wondering if he'll see Draken again.

Mitsuya was the first person to ever bake a birthday cake for Draken, it was a bit lopsided but Draken still appreciated it dearly.

The two of them fighting as a duo is seriously impressive, people have stopped and watched in awe before.

They always trust each other to have each others backs

They know each other's restaurant and cafe orders so well that if they're meeting up and one of them gets there first, they'll order for the other.

Before Hanma ever said a word to Mitsuya, Mitsuya hated him just because of his rivalry with Draken (among other things he did).

#I'm willing to die on the hill of the first one #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #ken ryuguji #mitsuya takashi

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halfhissandwich · 1 day

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@analoginceweek Day Four: “Are you okay?”

Story below! (Warning for angst) (this is part 1 of the story, part 2 I’m saving for tomorrow for day 5)

Logan was glad that the others were happy, he really was. Thomas had been waiting to hear back from Nico all day, and while he had promised Logan that he’d spend the day being productive with him, it still makes sense that upon receiving an invitation to spend time with Nico, Thomas would jump at the opportunity. That wasn’t what bothered Logan.

What bothered Logan was what happened during his encounter with that Duke. Logan expected it to go poorly, it was Remus after all, but this was just… cruel. How Logan had been provoked. How Remus went out of his way to remind Logan of just how little Thomas cared about his advice.

How nauseous Logan felt when he saw the color orange…

Logan forced himself to snap back into reality when Nico would ask Thomas a question, though he wasn’t really paying attention. Roman and Patton seemed to have the situation under control, fairly well too since Virgil was just sitting off to the side, minding his own business. Logan smiled at his fellow sides before making eye contact with Roman, when his smile suddenly breaks, feeling like a liar for ever having smiled in the first place. As little as anyone wanted to admit it, Roman and Remus had many similarities… too many similarities. And thanks to Remus, the concept of creativity made Logan sick to his stomach, a feeling that Logan felt terrible for having in the first place.

“Lo?”

Roman was better than Remus! Roman had been his friend since the logical side had first formed, and had been one of his two boyfriends for, what, 3 years now? Logically, Logan knew that Roman was harmless, especially compared to his brother.

“Logan.”

But the knowledge that if Roman could do something similar to Remus if he so chose made Logan want to vomit. Was his love for Roman fake? No, it couldn’t have been, could it? But Roman hated Janus for comparing him to Remus, will Roman hate him too? He’s not trying to compare him to Remus, he’s really not! It was like a reflex to look at Roman and imagine a mustache where one didn’t exist, as little as Logan wanted to think about it. It was almost… intrusive…

“Logan!” Logan’s spiraling is interrupted by Virgil’s soft hand being placed on his cheek. Despite his trait, Virgil was exceptionally good at calming Logan down when he needed it, not that Logan was the type to ever admit he needs it to begin with.

“Oh, um… yes, Virgil?” Logan asks, trying to act like he wasn’t just picturing Roman as Remus for… how long had he been staring at Roman in horror?

“Are you okay?” Virgil’s quiet voice sounded so damn comforting, despite the fact that Logan hadn’t even planned to tell him anything. It makes him feel like a traitor. He claims to be in love with Virgil and Roman and yet he can’t be honest with them even though he knows how much they hate lies? And even worse, he had betrayed Roman by subconsciously comparing him to the one side he hates being compared to the most? “L-Logan?? Why are you crying, L?”

Logan tightly wraps his arms around Virgil before he can stop himself, which prompts Roman and Patton to also look over with concern before rushing to Logan’s side to comfort him. “My dear, what’s the matter? Did Thomas say something wrong or something?” Roman tries to make eye contact with Logan, who avoids looking up from where he’s buried his face in Virgil’s jacket, desperately avoiding Roman’s gaze. Don’t look at me, Roman, I’m so sorry… I’m the worst boyfriend ever, how could I do that to you? And not even have the courage to tell you about it??

Virgil shoots Patton a pleading look, and Patton gets the message, gently instructing Thomas that it’s time to leave. Thomas, despite his initial disappointment, agrees after a bit of prodding, wishing Nico a good day before leaving to go home. Virgil carries Logan on his back, not wanting to force him to walk when he’s so miserable. Roman tries repeatedly to get Logan to look at him, to no avail, which worries both Virgil and Roman.

As soon as they arrive home, Logan sinks out to go to his room to be alone, leaving Virgil and Roman in a state of confusion and worry for their boyfriend.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analoginceweek2024 #part two is tomorrow #analogince #analogical #logince #prinxiety #Logan centric #unsympathetic remus #remus sanders #patton sanders #c!thomas

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mononijikayu · 5 hours

Text

X01=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) — Geto Suguru.

When clarity finally pierced through the fog of your shock and grief, you found yourself standing amidst the remnants of his life, which was intricately intertwined with yours. The room, now a hollow echo of what once was, was filled with objects that each told a story—a story that had been both of yours. There were books you had discussed late into the night, mugs from which you had sipped coffee on lazy mission–less mornings, polaroids that captured moments of sheer, unadulterated happiness. Every item seemed imbued with a fragment of Suguru's presence, his smile, his warmth, and even the distinct trace of his scent that seemed to linger stubbornly in the air.

Genre: Post - Hidden Inventory Arc, 2007-2010s;

Warning/s: First Love, First Heartbreak, Betrayal, Grief, Emotional Trauma, Character Death, Angst, Romance, Kissing, Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Purging, Unresolved Tension, Inner Turmoil, Flashbacks, Love and Loss, Slow Burn, Closure, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Physical Touch, Mention of Death, Mention of Killing, Mention of Harm, Reader's Discretion Is Advised;

masterlist

listen: X01=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) by TXT

note: this is gonna be sad, so i hope you buckle up. this is like, one of the angstiest thoughts i've had in a while and i just had to write it down. anyway, enjoy it!!! i love you~

THIS IS THE CLOSEST YOU’D EVER GET TO CLOSURE, YOU THINK. It was profoundly difficult, cleaning up a room that was saturated with so many memories. Yet, Yaga-sensei found himself tasked with this heart-wrenching duty, a directive passed down from the higher-ups. Every item associated with Geto Suguru, now labeled a fugitive and a traitor, was to be removed.

From the mundane—a simple pen—to the intimately personal, like his favorite sweater, nothing could remain. It was a stark and painful erasure of his existence within these walls. There was to be no trace of the man who had once been a part of their lives, no remnants of a traitor among them.

Satoru, overwhelmed by the situation, flatly refused to participate. He wouldn't entertain the idea of following through with the order, his actions—or lack thereof—speaking volumes of his inner turmoil and silent protest. Shoko initially tried to cope, sitting quietly in the room, surrounded by the echoes of a past that clung to every object Suguru had touched. However, the weight of the task proved too much, and eventually, she had to leave, unable to bear the stripping away of memories tied so deeply to someone they had all cared for.

Yaga-sensei couldn't find it within himself to blame them. How could he? The task he was performing was not just a physical clearing of objects; it was an emotional purging that none of them had been prepared for. It posed the torturous question: how does one manage to hold so much grief? How can anyone be expected to hold onto so much, only to have to let it go, to act as if it was never there?

In that room, every item removed felt like a denial of what had been, a negation of the times they had shared. Each piece carried a story, a laugh, a moment of brilliance, a trace of the life they once knew with Suguru. But beyond the physical act of cleaning, there was an unspoken mourning, a quiet acknowledgment of the loss not just of a friend and colleague but of the innocence and camaraderie they had all shared before his descent.

Yaga-sensei understood the necessity of the orders from a rational standpoint, but rationality often fell short of providing comfort in times of emotional strife. The job had to be done, but the emotional residue, the sense of betrayal mixed with fond memories, the stark pain of loss—these were not things that could be cleaned away with the physical removal of objects. They lingered, pervasive and deep, in the hearts of those left behind.

Still, you persevered. You took up the task, gathering boxes and those heavy, dark trash bags, and stood before the once tidy room, now a symbol of chaos and abandonment—a place he could no longer return to. The mess was overwhelming; where to begin was not immediately clear, but you started nonetheless. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you picked up each item, but you pushed on, item after item.

As you sorted through his belongings, a mix of mundane and intimate objects, the reality of the situation began to truly weigh on you. You had to admit, though it gnawed at your insides, part of you still couldn’t fully accept that the contents of the report were true. It seemed impossible that the person who had owned these books, worn these clothes, and laughed in these very walls could have done the atrocities he was accused of. He hadn’t really destroyed that village, had he? He couldn’t have actually killed his own beloved parents, could he?

The dissonance between the Suguru you knew and the one described in the cold, factual report created a storm of confusion and denial inside you. Each item you placed into the boxes felt like you were discarding pieces of the Suguru you remembered. And it broke your heart over and over again.

You felt nauseated, you felt like you were going to lose it. Every piece felt like shredding the memories of someone you love—loved. Your Suguru, he was not a monster. The process was not just physical cleaning; it was an emotional battleground, where memories conflicted with hard, unforgiving reality.

As you were about to leave the room, Yaga-sensei approached you, his expression somber and his eyes avoiding yours. He extended a folder towards you—thick with papers, the topmost branded with the official seals of their institution. You hesitated but took it, feeling the weight of the documents in your hands.

“Why?” You whispered under your breath, looking at the older man. “Why’d he do it?”

"You need to read these," Yaga-sensei said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's important you understand everything."

Your hands trembled as you opened the folder. The papers rattled loudly in your grasp, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that filled the room. Each page you turned revealed more details, more horrors, more undeniable evidence of the acts Suguru had committed. The descriptions were clinical, detached, yet they cut through you with a visceral sharpness. And at the end, those words —’All sorcerers are advised to when in contact with the cursed user Geto Suguru, to execute him, on sight.’

You felt like you were going to be sick. This couldn’t be real. How is this real? As you absorbed the contents, a specific memory flashed through your mind, unbidden and piercingly vivid.

It was of Suguru, on a day much like any other, yet now impossibly distant. He had kissed you goodbye, his lips brief against yours, his eyes warm with affection. "I'll come back from this mission," he had promised with a smile that couldn't even reach his eyes, full of a light that you now realized was extinguished. “I swear. We’ll eat soba together when I come back.”

The contrast between that memory and the black-and-white text in front of you was jarring. How could the man who had looked at you with such tenderness, who had promised to return, be the same person described in these reports? How could he have carried such darkness within him while offering you nothing but warmth and love?

The room spun slightly as you stood there, the papers shaking in your hands, each word another weight added to what felt like an unbearable load. You wanted to drop the folder, to let it fall to the ground and scatter, as if by dispersing these papers you could disperse the truth they contained. But you couldn't. You had to face this.

“I understand.” You whisper under your breath, as you slowly let go of the folder. Tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. “I’ll….I’ll tell Shoko—”

“She already knows.”

You look at him, blinking your eyes. “And Satoru?”

“Locked himself away.”

“I see.”

Handling his possessions, you couldn’t help but recall the person he had been—the very center of your whole world. In this world full of zeros, he seemed to be the only one that ever made sense. This world of violence, this suffering, this jujutsu sorcery—he was the only one that ever made sense. The warmth in his smile, the tenderness in his voice, the grace in his touch.

With each object that landed in the trash bag, it felt as if you were trying to erase those memories, deny the reality of what had been, and maybe, in some small way, absolve the pain and betrayal you felt. With everything he was in that trash bag, it was as though life was zeros again. Nothing made sense anymore.

You stopped for a moment.

You turned your head away.

The pictures on this white board.

You smiled as you kissed him.

New Year’s Day at the temple.

That bittersweet summer in Okinawa.

How had you managed to get this far, you wondered. Only a few neatly packed bags now contained the physical remnants of what had been a shared existence, yet there was too much left that wasn't tangible, too much that you couldn't pack away or discard.

Memories clung to you relentlessly, each one a poignant reminder of what had been lost. How could you possibly begin to untangle yourself from a past so rich in love and now so poisoned with betrayal?

The challenge before you was immense. You needed to find a way to preserve the memories that still brought warmth, those uncontaminated by the later revelations of his actions, without allowing them to anchor you to a past that could no longer exist in the way it once had.

It wasn't just about moving on physically—clearing out his belongings and possibly even moving out of the space you shared—it was also about emotional survival. How could you reconcile the love you had felt with the pain of betrayal? How could you hold onto the good without it being tainted by the bad?

As you stood there, surrounded by the echoes of a life you once loved, you realized that this process would not be swift. It would be painful and slow, a journey of sorting through not just physical objects, but also through the layers of your heart. You would need to learn how to cherish the joy without it being overshadowed by the sense of loss, to acknowledge the pain without letting it consume you.

The task of moving forward was daunting. Yet, it was necessary. You understood that to heal, you must allow yourself to feel both the grief and the fondness, the betrayal and the love. You must learn to live with the memories in a way that they inform your future without chaining you to a narrative that could no longer be your reality.

With each memory you chose to pack away or leave out, with each item you decided to keep or discard, you were not just deciding on what physically remained in your life; you were also making decisions about how you would let your past influence your future.

This process, as heart-wrenching as it was, was your path to finding peace—a peace that acknowledged all that had been, the good and the bad, and still allowed you to look forward to what might come next.

You fell to your knees.

You felt your body shake.

Tears overwhelmed you.

You know you loved him.

But why wasn’t he here?

Why wasn’t he here to love you?

SUGURU MADE A MARK IN YOUR LIFE YOU CAN NEVER ERASE. When you think about it, you never truly fell in love with anyone before Suguru. He was your first in everything. In the world full of winters, in the world full of suffering, in the world full of zeros — he was the person that made the frigid air thaw, he healed the world of suffering.

He made the world feel like there was someone. There was someone that could love you. He was the epitome of all you desired, of all you needed; every trait you ever hoped for in a person shone brightly in his eyes, which met yours with such warmth. Had you made a list of ten qualities you sought in a soulmate, Suguru would have scored eleven, perhaps even more.

Your personalities magnetically attracted each other, an inevitable pull that felt as if no force in the universe could sever. From the moment you met, you knew you were caught in a perpetual cycle with him—a cycle you never wanted to escape. To you, he was the one; no one else could evoke the feelings he did.

Suguru was your other half, a wondrous being who filled your life with such joy that it seemed lifted straight from a fairy tale. At times, you questioned if he were real, or just a figment of your daydreams.

It was a bright, crisp afternoon at Jujutsu High when you first crossed paths with Geto Suguru. You’d just come from getting all your stuff in the dorm, as Yaga–sensei instructed.

When you finished, you decided to take a walk. And it was then, when you had spotted a distressed cat, its cries pitiful as it clung precariously to a branch high up in one of the campus's many sprawling trees. Moved by a mix of concern and impulsiveness, you decided to rescue the feline, despite having little experience in arboreal rescues.

With cautious steps, you climbed, reaching from branch to branch, ascending higher with each careful maneuver. Below, the ground seemed to grow increasingly distant, a patchwork of grass and the scattered shadows of leaves that danced in the gentle wind. Your heart pounded not just from the climb but from the fear of the cat jumping or falling.

Just as you were almost close enough to coax the cat to safety, a misstep caused your foot to slip. In a heart-stopping instant, your balance faltered, and you found yourself tumbling backward, a startled cry escaping your lips.

Out of seemingly nowhere, strong arms caught you. Your descent halted abruptly, and as you dangled in mid-air for a moment, time seemed to pause. You were gently set back onto the ground, and as you steadied yourself, your eyes met Suguru for the first time.

He was a fellow student, previously just another face in the crowd somewhere at one point. But now, he was the person who had caught you in a literal free fall — he was your savior. And you couldn’t stop staring at him. He was so beautiful, almost like an angel fallen to earth. The thought of his gentleness towards you, his tender stare. It was all too much for you. It made your heart beat over and over.

Suguru's expression was one of mild amusement mixed with concern. "You should be more careful," he chided lightly, his eyes scanning you quickly to ensure you were unhurt. "Trees aren't the safest places to be if you’re not a cat—or a trained climber."

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks, but you managed a grateful smile. "Thanks for catching me. And, uh, sorry for the trouble," you stammered, still trying to calm your racing heart.

"No trouble at all," Suguru replied, his tone easy and friendly. He then turned his attention to the cat still perched in the tree, looking down at you both with wide, curious eyes. "Let’s get your little friend down safely, shall we?" he suggested, already assessing the tree for the best way to climb.

Together, you watched as Suguru skillfully ascended the tree. Unlike your attempt, he moved with confidence and grace, reaching the cat quickly and coaxing it into his arms with gentle whispers. The descent was smooth, and soon, he was back on the ground, the cat safe in his arms.

"You're pretty good at this," you remarked, impressed by his calm demeanor and skill.

He just shrugged, handing the cat to you. "I like climbing. And helping," he added with a smile that reached his eyes, warming them with a spark that you would come to know very well in the times to follow.

That afternoon, after the cat had scampered off, presumably to find less precarious places to explore, you and Suguru ended up walking together, talking about school, interests, and trivial things that slowly wove the initial threads of your connection.

From that unexpected meeting sprung a relationship built on shared moments, laughter, and eventually, deeper feelings. Each look back at that day reminded you of the fateful fall that had brought Suguru into your life, not just as a savior from a physical fall, but as a pivotal presence in the most significant chapters of your life. From that on, you think you could never think of him anything other than someone you loved.

Suguru and your relationship blossomed with an intensity that seemed almost surreal, like something out of those fairy tales designed to instill hope and belief in magic. The rapid progression from friends to soulmates caught you both by surprise but neither of you hesitated. It felt right, like a multitude of moments had aligned just to bring you together.

You marveled at how natural it felt to be with him. For once, love did not come with reservations or the fear of not being enough. No one had ever affirmed you deserved happiness the way he did. His embrace liberated you from any previous doubts about your worthiness of love. His touch seemed almost celestial, as if you were being given a second life—one filled with an abundance of love and joy.

Whenever life seemed intent on throwing its worst challenges at you, Suguru stood as your unwavering pillar of support. His adoration was a universe of its own, vast and filled with warmth that saw through your insecurities and embraced your imperfections. He loved you wholly, celebrating your quirks and flaws as parts of the intricate mosaic that made you unique.

Suguru had a profound effect on your very being. With him, you learned the essence of true love—how it felt to be completely understood and appreciated. He had the extraordinary ability to see you, the real you, and in his eyes, you were enough.

This recognition and acceptance kindled a deep, passionate love within you, a love so fierce and consuming that it seemed to defy the mundane limitations of everyday life. He inspired dreams of a future so luminous and perfect that it appeared unbreakable.

You treasured every aspect of his soul, from his vibrant laughter to the thoughtful furrow of his brow. Each trait painted a color on the once bland walls you had built around your heart.

Geto Suguru didn't just break down these walls; he integrated himself into them, weaving his essence into the very fabric of your existence, becoming an inseparable part of the infinite you once believed was yours alone.

This love was a sanctuary, a space where you both existed in a harmonious bubble seemingly impervious to the external world. In this shared infinity, every moment was a vivid stroke on the canvas of your lives together, creating a masterpiece of vibrant hues and heartfelt emotions. Each day spent with him reinforced the belief that nothing could ever pull you apart—a belief so strong that it bordered on invincibility.

But as with all tales, whether of magic or reality, challenges loomed. Yet, in those moments of pure connection and love, such concerns seemed distant. You lived in the breaths shared between whispers of affection and the quiet understanding that passed in glances—those slices of eternity where the world outside faded to a mere backdrop to the vivid reality you shared with Suguru.

But as Suguru descended into madness and grief, the perfect image began to fracture. Amanai Riko died. And then your kouhai, Haibara, died. At one point, you nearly died. And he hated it. He hated feeling this powerless. He hated having to swallow up curses. He wanted to burn it all.

He hated how you all have to die, forced to die young, brutal deaths �� for the sake of people who couldn’t care less. He would never tell you these things. You only find out in that letter he left to the three of you — The one that he wrote a year ago, when he planned to disappear. He couldn’t keep living this lie anymore. And you couldn't take it. It drove you mad. It drove you insane. At one point, you wonder, if you would end up like him.

But you just couldn't stop crying.

You couldn't stop mourning him.

Mourning the life you could have had.

It wasn't fair, it alll wasn't fair at all.

You were robbed of happiness together.

In all those moments, you wished you could have done more for him. You wished you could have wrapped your arms around his. Kissed him enough to make the taste disappear. But somehow you couldn’t do anything. No matter if you asked if he was alright, he would rebuff you. No matter how much you ask him if he slept, he would tell you the opposite. No matter how much you wanted to embrace him, he would say nothing.

He was already too far gone. His once hopeful demeanor was overshadowed by a deep, engulfing sorrow. The lively discussions you once shared, filled with love and reverence, turned into debates tainted by his despair.

And perhaps you had known it. Perhaps refused to acknowledge that it was all over. But you kept trying. You kept wishing that you could keep him with you, trapped in this own world that belonged to the both of you. And he tried, he tried to keep up with you. But he knew, as you probably did too, that it would never have worked out.

Amidst a storm of emotional turmoil and unseen pressures that seemed to suffocate the very air around you, there came a breaking point—a moment when the despair felt so overwhelming that you could see no other way through but to anchor yourself to Suguru, the one constant in the chaotic whirlwind of your life.

It was late, the world outside wrapped in the silence of an unforgiving night, when you found Suguru in the dim light of his dorm table, his features etched with lines of stress and shadow. He looked up, his eyes reflecting a turmoil that mirrored your own. In that shared gaze, the weight of unspoken fears and pent-up frustrations hung heavily between you.

Driven by a desperate need to break through the barriers of pain and disconnect, you approached him with a resolve borne of raw emotion. "Use me," you pleaded, voice cracking with the intensity of your plea. "If it makes you feel better, use me. I can't stand seeing you like this. Please, Suguru. Please."

There was a palpable tension in the air as he absorbed your words. For a heart-stopping moment, he just stared, the depth of his gaze searching yours. Then, with a sudden movement, he closed the distance between you, his hands framing your face as he pulled you into a kiss.

At first, the kiss was a desperate melding of lips, a search for solace in the familiar. You responded instinctively, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer, trying to meld into him completely. The kiss deepened, driven by a cocktail of raw emotions, each of you seeking comfort, assurance, and a momentary escape from the burdens weighing you down.

As your initial desperation melded into a fervent need, the kiss grew harsher, more intense. Suguru's hands moved from your face, gripping your shoulders, then sliding down with a possessive urgency that conveyed both his need and his surrender to the moment. You felt a surge of something more than just passion—there was also a poignant ache, a recognition of the pain that had driven you to this moment of reckless abandon.

The kiss was no gentle query but a demanding, consuming force, as if through this physical connection, you both could momentarily forget the harshness of reality. Your response was equally fervent, a mix of giving and taking, a physical expression of your plea for him to use this connection, to draw from it whatever solace he could find.

In this intense exchange, there was no room for hesitation or doubt—only the raw, unfiltered need to be each other's solace, even if just for the fleeting moments as your lips clashed and your bodies pressed together in the quiet shadows of the night. Perhaps as you moaned underneath him, you wondered that maybe this would be enough. You had hope that it would.

Yet, as he battled with himself, with his demons, it was in the aftermath of it all that you realized your love could not sustain him. You can never force a flower to bloom when you want it to. You can never ask the sun to shine for you. And in the end, you can never ask Suguru to stay. You can never ask Suguru to explain.

Geto Suguru's grief became a chasm too vast to bridge. The more he unraveled, the more you felt compelled to hold you together, but it was like grasping at dissipating smoke. And you hated it. You hated all of it. But somehow, you could never hate him. Never him.

When you saw him again, you had already moved out of Jujutsu High. The only person who knew where you lived was Shoko and Satoru. You opted for a quiet life, in the countryside.

It was truly hard, you have to admit. Your life felt like a barren moonscape, cold and isolated. You were left to navigate a landscape of loss and self-discovery, all of it alone once again. Your love, once a vibrant song, had quieted to a somber melody.

You still regularly did Jujutsu work, but those missions were silently forwarded to you to deal with. That night, it was a mission that you wished you’d never taken. The weight of your cursed weapon felt heavier than ever, as if it were absorbing the gravity of the moment.

The victim's room was too dimly lit, shadows playing across the walls, casting elongated shapes that seemed to flicker with your unsteady heartbeat. Geto Suguru stood there, a few feet away, his purple gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made the room shrink.

You wondered why he was here. But you were scared to ask. You were scared to confront the idea that he had anything to do with this. Like all those years ago. You wanted to pretend. You wanted to pretend that he was just here, as he used to be, without the grief nor the pain, that comes with it.

The strands of his hair, longer than you remembered, brushed his eyelashes and occasionally obscured his gaze as he spoke to you. Those eyes, the same eyes that had once implored you with an intensity that had drawn you in, years ago, still seemed to reach out, asking for understanding, for connection. It was as if no time had passed in the way he looked at you, yet everything about him suggested the weight of the years he had carried.

He wore a gojo-kesa, the traditional layered robes that marked his new status in that cult, 'his family', as those reports from spies do say nowadays. The colors made you take a step back. Those colors were those you had once expressed fondness for—a deep, rich blend that seemed to capture the essence of his serious yet profound nature. It was striking how these colors, ones you had offhandedly mentioned liking during one of your many long conversations, now draped his form, as if clinging to a part of your shared past.

"You know, those blues." You pondered to him, almost like a little child. You were too burned out from the exams to stay sane. "The navy blue? Is that what it was?"

"What are you talking about?" Suguru's laugh resounded so beautifully as he laid against your lap. "The navy blue jeans you liked at the store?"

"Yeah, yeah, those!" You confirmed, grinning at him, lowering your head. "Then there were these bright yellow tops I saw—"

"Oh my god, you're creating a worse fit than Satoru—"

"Will you let me finish?" You pouted at him, causing him to laugh again.

"Alright, alright. What's the hat?"

"Pastel green."

"I can see it now."

You grinned again at him. "So, would I look pretty?"

"No, sorry but the color combination—"

"Why don't you just tell me you hate me at this point?" You stood up, pouting and stomped away as he laughed, standing up and catching up with you.

"Baby, wait!"

As you stomped away, the frustration feigned but the playful challenge in your tone unmistakable, Suguru quickly got up, his laughter still lingering in the air between you. The lightness of the moment was a welcome break from the intense studying and the stress that exams always brought into your life.

He caught up to you with a few quick strides, his hand gently grabbing your arm to turn you back toward him. His eyes were alight with amusement and a touch of affection that always seemed to deepen when you both shared these light-hearted moments. "Hey, come on, I was just teasing," he said, his voice softening as he pulled you into a loose embrace.

"You know I could never hate you," Suguru continued, his smile broadening. "And honestly, you’d look pretty in anything. Even in that outrageous outfit you just described."

You couldn't help but soften at his words, the sincerity in his tone melting any mock indignation you had felt. His ability to switch from teasing to tender in a heartbeat was one of the many things you cherished about him.

"You really think so?" You asked, a playful glint in your eye, wanting to draw out the moment a little longer.

"Absolutely," he replied, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Although, maybe not the pastel green hat. Let’s save that for Satoru, shall we?" His tease was gentle, and it brought a genuine laugh from you.

"Yeah, let's," you agreed, your laughter mingling with his as the tension from the exams seemed to dissolve away in the comfort of your interaction.

Suguru’s hand slid down to yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled you slightly closer. "How about tomorrow we go and check out those jeans, though? Make a day of it. Just you and me." His suggestion was casual, but you knew it was his way of giving you something to look forward to, a small oasis of normalcy amid the chaos of academic pressures.

"That sounds perfect," you said, your spirits lifted by the plan and the prospect of spending a day together outside the confines of study sessions and lecture halls.

As you both started walking back towards your apartment, hand in hand, the campus around you bathed in the soft light of the evening, you felt a profound sense of gratitude.

It pained you, how he remembered. How easily he just knew which colors to choose. All because they reminded him of you. You hated too, how easily those memories of better days, of days where he smiled so genuinely to the world, were still in your mind.

You fall in love, over and over again. And you wished you can't. You wished you wouldn't. You felt like you were going to be sick, you felt like tears would flow all over again. It struck you just how much he looked like the Suguru you had fallen in love with—the same, yet irrevocably different. How he was still there, after all this time. Even though, you wish he wasn't.

"You still look the same," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. The grip on your weapon tightened, a reflex against the vulnerability you felt.

Suguru's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, sad and knowing. "Looks can be deceiving," he replied, his voice low and rough with emotion. "I'm far from the boy….the man you knew."

The air between you was thick with history and unsaid words, a testament to the journey both of you had traveled—apart yet forever linked by the past.

"Why are you here, Suguru?" Your question cut through the silence, direct and laden with a myriad of emotions.

"I needed to see you," he said simply, stepping forward, reducing the distance between you. "To know if... if there's anything left of us….strangers, to have.”

His forwardness made you tense, the cursed weapon in your hand a reminder of the dangers his presence posed. Yet, his vulnerability, the raw need in his eyes, tugged at something deep within you.

"Suguru, too much has happened. Too much has changed," you replied, your voice faltering slightly as memories of better days flashed through your mind. “And all this time….how could you only now….”

He nodded slowly, the acknowledgment painful but necessary. "I know. I know I've made unforgivable choices. But standing here before you, I can't help but hope for a moment of madness where everything is as it once was."

"You and I know, more than anyone, that some curses can't be undone," you said softly, the weight of your own words anchoring the pain firmly in your chest.

He took another step closer, his presence so familiar yet so foreign. "I suppose you're right. But at least allow me this—," he paused, his voice catching, "—this moment to remember us not as we are, but as we were."

The desperation in his voice, the longing for something irretrievably lost, made your resolve waver. But the reality of the situation, the danger, and the betrayal, fortified your next words.

"Suguru, please don't ask that of me. It's too painful to pretend, even for a moment," you said, meeting his gaze steadily. The cursed weapon remained in your hand, a silent witness to the chasm that lay between you.

His shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him as he stepped back, putting space between your shared pain and his acceptance of the situation.

As Suguru's admission hung in the air, so did the weight of countless memories and unshed tears. "I love you. I will always love you," he whispered, each word laden with regret and a tender hope that seemed almost out of place in the cold reality of the present.

You felt a tightness in your chest, the kind that comes from holding back too much for too long. You pursed your lips, battling the tears threatening to breach your resolve. "It will pass," you managed to say, your voice a whisper almost lost in the distance that had grown between you.

Suguru paused, his back still turned, his shoulders tense as if absorbing the finality of your words. "I know," he said, his voice barely audible, a resignation to his fate—and perhaps yours as well. "I suppose it has to."

The silence that followed was thick, filled with all the things left unsaid, all the apologies that could never undo the past, all the love that could no longer bridge the gap of betrayal and hurt. It was a silence filled with the end of things, the quiet closing of a book whose pages had once fluttered with vibrant life and passionate mistakes.

"You should go," you finally said, firm yet not unkind. "It's better this way."

He nodded without turning to face you, his agreement silent but understood. As he walked away, each step seemed to echo in the empty space, a solemn drumbeat marking the end of an era. You watched him disappear, the figure you once knew now just a shadow merging with the shadows of the night.

Once he was gone, the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face. Not just for him, or for what you once had, but for yourself—for the peace you hoped would come, for the healing that was yet to begin, for the strength you would need to rebuild from the ruins of a love lost.

In the quiet aftermath, you realized that this was not just a farewell to Suguru, but a necessary step towards reclaiming yourself. The love might linger, as deep-seated emotions often do, but your acknowledgment that "it will pass" was not just a hope; it was a promise to yourself.

It will be hard, you know that.

You’ll always be in love with him.

You will always want to love him.

But you need to live your life too.

“No more one in the world of zeros.”

You felt tears fall over and over again.

"But I wanted one of you. I wanted you."

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