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ayyy-pee · 10 months

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Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader

WC: 6.7k

Summary: You’d never met anyone like Suguru Geto before. It seems strange that just a few hours ago, you’d never seen or heard of this man in your life. But it feels like you're drawn to each other in ways neither of you can explain. There's a pull you couldn’t resist if you tried.

Rockstar AU

Story Warning: Smut, Blowjob, Mutual Masturbation, Female Masturbation, Profanity because come on..., Sprung Suguru, Cumshots, Facials, Cumplay (a lil bit), Fingersucking, A sprinkle of power dynamic, Oral Sex, First Day Hookups

Suguru art by: @affectbitter

AN: There's some OCs in this one bc this was just a funny idea between me and some friends LMAO. Imagine them however you will!

The roar of the crowd is almost painful in your ear as you enter the venue. You’ve made it just in time, with minutes to spare.

“Excuse me. Sorry! Just gonna squeeze past you here…I’m sorry…”

The apologies fall from your lips as you navigate through the crowd of people in the arena. You’re trying to find your way backstage before the concert begins for this band… Demon Parade?

An up and coming group, quickly rising in stardom who you never would have heard of had you not been scouring the job boards for an easy and quick way to make money. Imagine your surprise when you found a job posting for them stating the band was in need of an efficient, organized assistant. A go-getter who would be willing to do anything to aid in their success and ride along with them.

You’d had some assistant jobs in the past, nothing too crazy, but you knew what the basic expectation of an assistant was. So you applied for the job, not thinking there was a chance in hell you’d get it, but you needed something and anything was better than nothing. Besides, the job came with all the perks: benefits, free travel, a food allowance. Sounded like a steal.

You got the call less than a week later, saying that you were a great fit and exactly what the band was in search of! It didn’t seem real at the time, even after you’d hung up, filled out your onboarding paperwork and were sent all of your information for your first day – the concert you were currently pushing your way through. It felt even less real when you received your all access badge at the arena doors.

You’d made sure to listen to a few of Demon Parade’s songs and you had to admit, you liked what you heard, but you wouldn’t exactly call yourself a superfan. Not like the crowd of people swarming around you as you hurried through to backstage. God, it was fucking packed.

Is this band that good?

The moment you enter backstage, you feel like you can breathe again. It’s less crammed, so you feel like you can relax a bit. But that feeling only lasts for a second before someone practically materializes out of thin air before you. They call your name, one hand coming up to tap the small earpiece in their ear, the other coming up to indicate for you to stop.

“Yep, she just got here,” They mumble into the earpiece. “I’ll bring her back.” They tap the earpiece again, waving to you to follow them. “I trust you didn’t have any trouble getting back here?”

“Nope, fairly easy,” you answer, quickening your pace to catch up with them.

“Good,” they make a sharp turn around a corner, speeding up and you feel like an idiot essentially running behind them. “I’m Jaz, the band’s manager. We don’t have too much time. I’ll give you a brief overview of the band and each member and then I’ll introduce you to them.”

“Oh, so just…immediately starting? Is there like…a formal training I should be going through first? Or a new hire orientation?”

“No,” they state. “Do what the band asks and if you do it well enough and the band likes you, you’ll be able to keep your job by the end of the night.”

Your eyes wide as you rush to walk next to Jaz. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. If you make a good impression on the band, we’ll keep you. We’re about to start a national tour in a few days and we need someone who will be able to get the job done. If not, we move on.”

“Okay, so just…do what they ask me to and…that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Jaz confirms. “It’s that simple.”

So this whole first day is a test…given with no actual instructions…Fucking weird, but who are you to argue?

You’ll just have to use your prior assistant knowledge to make it work. If you’ve done one assistant job, you’ve done them all. You think so, at least.

You hurry through the halls alongside Jaz, the hallways snaking around to the back of the venue where there are many different dressing rooms – one for each band member and one for the group. Jaz reaches a door with a sign taped to it with the name Demon Parade on it. Scribbled in the corner of the sign is what looks like a very poorly drawn penis.

Jaz sighs when they see the doodle and whips around to face you.

“First things first, a brief rundown of the band.” They fish out their phone to pull up a group photo of the members on stage at one of their concerts. They point to a beautiful brunette woman in the photo before their finger glides over to a tattooed man with his hair piled high atop his head in a loose bun. “This is Shoko Ieiri – our bassist – and this is Suguru Geto – our lead guitarist. Both very low maintenance, very easy to get along with because they most likely will take very little interest in you.”

They then point to a blonde man who looks about ready to clock out at any moment and then to a white haired guy with freakishly blue eyes. “Kento Nanami is our drummer and this annoying beanpole here is Satoru Gojo – our lead singer,” Jaz finishes, rolling their eyes when they point to Gojo. But you can see a clear fondness there with the way their eyes linger on the screen.

You nod, eyes locked on the heavily tattooed raven haired man on the phone. He looks a little bored, almost like he’d rather be anywhere but where he was at that moment. Even so, his gaze is intense. You know it’s impossible, but you feel as though he’s looking at you through the phone. It’s literally a picture taken at some random venue that you’d never seen in your life. But, it feels like he’s staring right at you. Those feline eyes of his look so deeply into the camera, peer so powerfully into your eyes through the screen, it makes you look away. There’s something about that guy, something that’s almost familiar…it makes a tingle race up your spine.

You’re not sure if the feeling is good or bad, but you don’t have time to think too much about it because Jaz is knocking on the dressing room door. A massive, burly man donning sunglasses is opening it, peering at you from over his shades. Jaz is moving past him, beckoning you to follow when you don’t move, cemented to your spot.

Because you’re still thinking about that fucking picture.

“Hey,” The goateed man says when you’ve finally entered the room. You notice then that he’s wearing a black windbreaker with Security on one side and his name on the other. Your eyes quickly drift down to his nametag.

Yaga…With a little panda sticker next to his name. This old guy loves cute things apparently. It’s sweet, makes you smile.

Yaga quickly introduces himself. “Nice to meet you,” He grunts, no smile returned. “I’m head of security for the band. My name’s Yaga.” He doesn’t await a response from you, turning to speak with Jaz instead and you take that time to have a look around in the interim.

The dressing room is incredibly spacious. In a corner across the room, there’s a snack table full of an assortment of candies and bags of chips with the members' faces on them as well as an array of drinks. Large couches are arranged throughout the room, enough space between them to give each member their own little area to lounge in. There are also vanity areas along the back wall with brightly lit mirrors and chairs for each member.

You’re assuming it’s Shoko who sits in one of the vanity chairs getting her makeup done. She is the only female member after all. She’s as beautiful in person as she appears in pictures, though her hair is a lot longer than in the picture Jaz showed you earlier. She’s on her phone scrolling boredly, but when the door clicks shut, your eyes meet in the mirror and she waves quickly as the makeup artist applies her lipstick.

“Hey,” is all she says.

On the far side of the room is a blonde man reading a newspaper, he glances up for all of two seconds when you enter the room and then he’s back to reading. Next to him is a girl who can’t yet be in her 30s, leaning her head against his shoulder. They look cozy together. Maybe they’re dating? You make a mental note to ask Jaz about this later.

Just a few steps away from you, seemingly appearing out of thin air by the snack table, is Satoru Gojo, lead singer of Demon Parade.

His eerily blue eyes glance up when you enter the room, and then he shoots you a beaming smile as he leaves his spot by the snacks and strolls over. He grins at Jaz who has now made their way back to you, rolling their eyes again as Satoru gets closer.

“Jaz,” he purrs. “What do we have here? A meet and greet?” Gojo asks, eyes locked on his manager. His gaze wanders over their clothes as if he can see straight through them. “You look good. Missed you last ni–”

Jaz holds up a hand, cutting him off and getting straight to the point. They introduce you to Satoru, Shoko, Nanami and the woman sitting next to him who you’ve learned is Nicole – their vocal coach, though she doesn’t appear to be doing much vocal coaching while she makes googly eyes at Nanami.

Yaga sighs as he goes back towards the dressing room door and Jaz follows behind him, pulling their phone out and typing away. You don’t miss that the moment Jaz is putting their phone back in their pocket, Satoru is pulling his out to quickly glance at his screen, smirking before he slides it back into his pocket.

Okay, there’s clearly something going on there.

“Call me if you need anything,” Yaga utters to Satoru, but Satoru isn’t even listening anymore. He’s back at the snack table rummaging through the available items. Yaga pulls the door open to let Jaz exit first. Behind you, you hear him briefly grunting an “excuse me” as someone else enters the room before he’s also gone.

And you can’t really explain it, but the moment this other person enters, the air in the room shifts.

At least for you.

They move past you, their bare arm just barely brushing against your own and you startle at the charge of pure electricity that jolts through you at the near contact. They seem to feel it too, because they pause, whipping around to look at you and you’re met with those sharp, cat-like eyes you’d just seen peering through a screen now staring into your own. That familiar tingle you’d felt outside of this very room zips back up your spine.

Suguru Geto stands before you, his beautiful face framed by his signature raven locks that now cascade around his shoulders. He’s somehow even more striking with his hair down, beautiful. He says nothing as you stare each other down, the air between you thick with something you can’t quite describe. The room around you blurs as your vision seems to hone in on Suguru and Suguru only.

It’s after a few moments of tense silence that Suguru breaks eye contact first, eyes trailing down your form. And suddenly you feel as though you’re under a microscope, being so closely examined by him. You can’t help but feel exposed. He tilts his head to the side, his hair falling with the motion. He cards his fingers through his strands, pushing them back, eyes narrowing when they meet your gaze again. His brows knit together for a moment and then he speaks.

“Have we met before?”

Your pathetic body reacts immediately, melting the second his voice reaches your ears. Goosebumps race across your skin, even as your body feels like it’s being engulfed in heat. Your heart feels like it’s crawling up your chest and into your throat, your pulse is beating behind your ears so hard it’s making you dizzy.

What is this?

You don’t understand this sudden racing of your heart, the way your hands feel clammy, the explosive reactions your body is having to him simply looking at you.

Suguru leans his head to the other side and the movement brings you back to reality, helps you to remember that you’re just standing there like a fucking idiot when he had asked you a question. You shake your head quickly, suddenly unable to find your voice.

Suguru looks you over once more, almost like he doesn’t believe your answer, until Satoru interrupts.

“You’ve never met her. She’s our new assistant. Starting today,” he announces, mouth full, from what seems to be his permanent spot by the snack table. He tells Suguru your name. Suguru quickly glances back at Satoru before his eyes drift back to you again.

“Yeah?” Suguru asks, eyes still on you. You can see Satoru turn back to the snack table from your peripheral, picking at different candies. “Nice to meet you. I’m Suguru,” he states.

For some reason, it dawns on you then that Jaz is no longer there to speak for you. You’re on your own. Jaz’s earlier words ring through your ears. Whether or not you get to keep this job depends on how well you do tonight.

So you clear your throat, finding your confidence again. You know what you’re doing and Suguru is essentially your boss. Just like the other members, so you needed to build a relationship with him all the same. “Yes, I’m your new assistant and I’m very excited to be able to work with you all. Please let me know what you need and I’ll do my best to make sure you’re all happy.”

A small smile graces Suguru’s features and the tiny motion has your heart picking up speed again.

Fucking relax.

“Yeah, I got a couple things you can do for me,” he voices.

“Okay,” you glance back towards Shoko who is eyeing you through the reflection of the mirror. “Anyone else need anything before the show?” She shakes her head indicating your assistance isn’t necessary. You look to Nanami who couldn’t look less interested in what’s happening right now. Next to him, Nicole shakes her head as well.

“All good here,” Satoru says, waving you off. “Suguru, be nice.”

“When am I not?” Suguru chuckles, closing the distance between you and slinging his arm around your shoulder. The contact makes your skin erupt with goosebumps once again.

Only this time, you feel a little less crazy about your body's seemingly random reaction to Suguru’s touch because as you glance down at the arm wrapped around you, see the telltale sign of goosebumps along his skin, too.

- - - - - -

Suguru doesn’t have shit for you to do. The concert is happening soon so there’s not much else left to do that the other staff hasn’t already taken care of. He’s not sure why he lied to you, but the moment he saw you, there was something familiar about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’s certain you’ve never met, he would’ve definitely remembered your face; lovely, beautiful, stunning, all the words that could describe how nice you were to look at. Looks aside, there’s just something about you that has his mind reeling.

He’d heard from Jaz that the band would be getting a new assistant today. Didn’t make a difference to him, staff was staff. He was sure the new assistant would be fired by the end of the night, if not the end of the week. They could never keep an assistant too long, most of them deeming Satoru too needy, Shoko too cold, Suguru too mean. The list went on and on. The simple truth of the matter was Suguru had a goal, a plan for his success and if an assistant wasn’t able to hang in there for the ride, then they weren’t worth his time. Suguru stopped caring about who their assistant of the week was a long time ago.

So what was it about you that had him hiding you in his dressing room until the show started; showing you his favorite guitars, asking you about how you got this job, wondering how you liked it so far, if you’d heard their music? Any other assistant he’d have running to get him a coffee, doing menial tasks just for laughs. But for you, he’d grabbed a coffee with you and spent that time practically bombarding you with questions the moment he had you alone. Suguru knew more about you in 20 minutes than girls he’d dated for months. And he had no idea why he cared so much.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You ask. Leaning against the wall of his dressing room, Suguru watches as you sit on his dressing room couch, strumming the strings on his guitars.

“I mean, it shouldn’t matter.”

“Jaz made it clear I need to keep you all happy or else…” you make a dramatic slicing motion across your neck, pulling a laugh from Suguru.

After finding out Suguru did not actually have anything for you to help him with, he spent a few minutes trying to calm your mini panic attack where you told him about how nervous you were. How badly you needed this job. So he’d brought you back to his dressing room to hang out where no one would see you aimlessly wandering.

“The guys said they’re good, so no need to worry about them. They’re happy right now,” Suguru reassures you.

“And you?” You ask, eyes meeting his from across the room. It makes him inhale sharply, trying to calm the swift pounding of his heart. “Are you happy?”

He nods. “I’m happy.” You pluck a string on his guitar, the offkey note cutting through the tension Suguru was beginning to feel. “Despite your horrible guitar playing skills, I’m happy.”

You laugh. “Rude.” You pluck again, this time the note is more bearable. “If I make it past today, I’ll be on the road to continue on tour with you guys,” you told him.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes look on as your fingers dance along the strings of his guitar awkwardly. He could show you how to hold a guitar, how to hit a note that’s not offkey, but he’s enjoying watching you struggle a little too much. It’s cute, though his body’s reaction to watching the way you hold the neck of the guitar is…less appropriate than what the situation calls for. “Has anyone ever told you you have really nice hands?”

Because he wouldn’t mind having your really nice hands wrapped around his cock.

The question comes out before he can stop it. For any other groupie he’d brought back to his room, the answer to the question wouldn’t have mattered. He’d just be making small talk, he wouldn’t have even meant the compliment. But for you…he was mesmerized by the way you held his instrument, the sight filling his head with lewd thoughts.

You freeze at his question, glancing back at Suguru. “No…thank you?”

Suguru chuckles, moving from his spot on the wall to take a seat next to you. The air immediately thickens, this close proximity to you making it hard for him to breathe. “You are…really bad at guitar.”

“Oh my god, were you this mean to your past assistants?” The question comes out with a giggle, as you set Suguru’s guitar down next to you, turning to face him.

He smirks, turning his body to face you as well. “Only the ones who are shit at guitar.”

“Oh, so you let all your assistants hang out in your dressing room and show them your instruments then?”

“Nope.”

If anything Suguru was way fucking meaner to his past assistants. In less than two hours, you already had him cleaning up his act.

You make a face, scrunching your nose up in Suguru’s direction and he decides he likes you already. Yeah, it’s only been a few hours, but he wants to see that face more often. The choice wasn’t up to him, though. You had to impress the other members, too. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help you along the way.

A light knock at the door interrupts Suguru’s thoughts.

“Yeah?” He calls and Jaz peers their head in, brows furrowing when they see you on Suguru’s couch.

“She was cleaning my guitar for me,” Suguru lies easily, motioning towards the instrument next to you. Jaz either believes him or doesn’t care because they don’t even acknowledge it any further.

“Showtime, let’s go.”

- - - - - -

Suguru had been nice enough to give you some tips on how to ensure the band was happy after the show.

“Nanami loves a good coffee and a book set up in his dressing room after a show,” he’d noted. “Satoru is easy. Leave him some of those little mochi candies with the red bean paste inside? He’ll eat like fourteen of them and pass out. Shoko literally just wants to be left alone after dealing with Satoru all day. Put a cigarette and a bottle of liquor – any kind – in her room and she’s set.”

“And you?” You asked, nervously fidgeting in the hall outside of Suguru’s dressing room. Suguru had kept your mind off of panicking and inadvertently pissing someone off on your very first day. With no delegated tasks, no orientation or training and no clue in hell about each member’s preferences, you were truly grateful to Suguru for all he'd done for you on your first day. He was your lifeboat today.

“Me?” It seemed he’d forgotten he was also a part of the band, which was even more endearing to you. He’d been more concerned with making sure you were successful today than his own needs.

“Yeah, you. I want to make sure everyone is satisfied.”

Suguru hummed a look flashing behind his eyes and disappearing as quickly as it came, it still sent a shiver up your spine all the same. He placed a hand on your arm, inhaling slowly. His eyes locked onto where his hand lay on your arm, like he could feel the way your stomach twisted, the way your breathing increased, how your pupils dilated just from his touch.

And Suguru could feel it. Because his body was reacting the exact same way.

“I’ll be fine,” he breathed, letting go of your arm. “Hopefully at the end of the night, Jaz will have good news for you.”

He turned to leave, but not before calling back, “I’ll see you after the show.”

Now you stand on the side of the stage, unable to stop staring at Suguru as his hands fly along the strings of his guitar with ease, beautiful notes carrying out of the instrument and dancing around the stadium for the audience to hear. You can’t get over the duality of this man.

Backstage he’s chill, if not a little intimidating. But in the short time you’d spent together, you found it easy to talk to Suguru and open up to him. He was funny, smart, insanely talented. You did not expect a rockstar as big as he was to be so down to earth.

Now as you watch Demon Parade perform their last song of the night, you can’t help but think Suguru is the sexiest man on earth. The way his hair whips across his face when he shakes his head to the music, how his large hands control every note that drives the song, how his rich voice blends smoothly with Satoru’s to really push the message of the songs across. And when Suguru’s really feeling it, the way he lets the world see the tiny metal ball sitting atop his tongue.

He is so insanely sexy.

It seems every little move he makes has the crowd losing their minds, men and women alike screaming his name. And you can’t blame them, occasionally rubbing your own thighs together to stoke the heat pooling between your own legs whenever Suguru would peer over to the side and grin at you mid song.

Fuck, working with him may end up being harder than you anticipate. If you are able to keep this job, you’ll likely have to maintain a friendly distance. You don’t trust yourself not to do something stupid with the way your body seems to respond to him any time you’re near each other.

When the show is over, Satoru thanking the crowd for coming out, the band members all go their separate ways to their dressing rooms. You wait in the hall, standing with Jaz who again is on their phone. They seem to always be working, but this time you watch their fingers fly across their phone screen, a tiny smirk on their lips. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from smiling.

You’re pretty sure Jaz and Satoru are sleeping together.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Jaz clears their throat, their eyes boring into your own. Did they hear…your…thoughts?

And then they smile. “Just got the green light from the band. You’re in.”

Eyes wide, you stand there gaping like a fish until you finally find your words. “Just like that? I mean…there’s not a formal meeting or anything?”

Jaz shoots you a deadpan look, like you’re wasting their time with your stupid fucking question. “Look around you. Nothing about today was formal. Get used to it. Go home, pack your bags. I’ll email the details of where to meet us in the next couple days before we get on the road. Be on time please. Don’t miss the tour bus leaving.”

They turn on their heels before you can thank them, making their way down the hall (in the direction of Satoru’s dressing room, you can’t help but notice).

The clean up staff moves hurriedly around backstage, rushing off and on the stage. And you just stand there, the giddiness of the news bubbling in your chest. You want to scream about how happy you are, but you contain it, instead opting to go tell the person who helped you to lock in your spot today.

After a short trip down the winding halls of the arena, you knock softly on Suguru’s dressing room door. It doesn’t take him long to answer, the door swinging open and revealing him in a loose fitting tee and some sweats. His hair is damp from a shower, strands clinging to his face, cheeks flushed. You can practically feel the heat of his bath radiating off of him.

He’s as captivating off stage, like this, as he is on stage. You can’t help but stare.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice rough.

“Hey,” you practically sigh, cheeks heating furiously.

It’s just you two, standing there, staring at each other. The world continues to move, it all becoming a blur as you refuse to look away from the other. You, watching as the flush on Suguru’s cheeks slowly creeps from his face, down his neck and to the exposed part of his chest the ‘V’ in his shirt allows you to see. Him, watching as your chest rises and falls, breathes picking up rapidly as he gazes at you.

You’d never met anyone like Suguru Geto before. It seems so insane that just a few hours ago, you’d never seen or heard of this man in your life. Now in this moment, standing before him in front of his dressing room, it feels like he has a pull on you that you couldn’t resist if you tried.

“Just heard from Jaz. Looks like I’ll be going on the road with you,” you tell him, voice coming out smaller than you’d intended.

“Yeah?” His low voice is nothing but a whisper, eyes darting down to your lips quickly before they shoot back up to your eyes.

“Yeah.”

Then his tattooed hand is cupping your face, your arms are looping around his neck, his mouth is colliding with yours as he pulls you into his dressing room, slamming the door behind him. It’s dizzying, the heat rolling off is his body, his scent invading your senses. The hand touching your face slips to the back of your neck, making you sigh into his mouth. It’s so fucking unfair how a move so simple had the power to make you melt into a puddle for him.

Suguru’s body molds against yours as he pushes you against the door of his dressing room, pressing his own arousal against your thigh. And you gasp, the thick feel of him making you moan.

“Fuck,” Suguru presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek, rolling his hips into you. “I don’t know what it is about you,” he groans, kissing along your cheek again, rolling his hips into yours once more.

You feel the same, like there’s something about him that keeps drawing you to him. The stars only seem to continue aligning in your favor. First getting this job, this trial run day, meeting Suguru, Suguru helping to make sure you got to keep your job and you actually getting the confirmation you needed. It’s like you were meant to meet one day. You’re eternally grateful.

You press a kiss to Suguru’s lips, your hands finding their way into his hair and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss, trying to taste everything you have to offer. You’re panting into his mouth as he rolls his hips into yours roughly.

“I want you,” Suguru breathes against your lips. “I want you so fucking bad, I’m losing my mind.”

His mouth is back on yours, hands grasping at your waist, pulling you as close as he can. You want him too, you probably want him just as badly as he wants you. But there’s time for that. You’ll be on the road together for months. That’s surely enough time to have each other every which way you want. But tonight, you want to show Suguru how grateful you are to him.

“Let me thank you for today,” you offer Suguru breathlessly when you break the kiss. His brows knit together for a brief second before they rise at the same time you fall to your knees before him.

“Are you sure? You don’t have t–”

“I want to,” you assure him. Suguru gulps, nodding as he watches you wet your lips.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his sweats and briefs, you tug down, freeing Suguru’s erection and wasting no time wrapping your hands around his length. It’s just the way Suguru imagined when he watched you strumming his guitar. Better than he imagined, actually. He shivers when your hands grip him, your mouth watering with the thought of tasting him as you watch a drop of precum form on his tip.

He’s big. Bigger than you had pictured. You swallow, thinking about how in the hell you were going to be able to possibly fit all of him in your mouth.

“Take it slow, baby,” Suguru tells you, as though he can tell what you’re thinking. He brings a hand down to gently caress your cheek.

Peering up, your tongue peeks out of your mouth, tentatively flicking against the head and Suguru sighs shakily, staring intently. He watches you closely, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek as your lips fall open and you wrap them around his cock. You take him into your mouth, slowly sinking down as far as you can go before you pull off and sink down again.

Eyes locked, you watch with hardly concealed elation as Suguru’s pupils blow out, dilating so much you can no longer make out the color of his eyes.

“Fuck,” Suguru’s hips buck forward like a reflex, head falling back as a deep groan falls from his lips. Your mouth is so warm, so fucking wet. He wants to revel in the feel of it. Doesn’t want you to suck him so good he blows his load down your throat yet. He looks back down at you, at the way your mouth is stuffed full of him and you’re not even halfway down. Suguru utters a curse under his breath.

“Stay right there,” he tells you, rougher than he intended, he knows it. But it’s so fucking important that you don’t move right now or he’s done for. “Just hold it - ahhh, yeah just like that, angel.”

You place your hands against his thighs, holding yourself still with Suguru’s cock in your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue, the sound of his harsh breathing, his hands gently holding your chin, it all makes a delicious heat pool in your core.

Suguru takes a deep breath, pushes his hair back with his hands as he exhales. He’s trying to catch his breath, trying to keep his composure right now, but fuck. It’s so hard to hold it together with the way your mouth is stretched around him, with how he’s just barely halfway in and he can already see the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes as you try to take all of him.

Suguru’s had his fair share of flings come back to his dressing room with him, sure. But you… there’s something about you that has his heart thundering in his chest, has his cock throbbing within the wet confines of your mouth, has him reaching down to caress your cheek and wipe the pooling tears away as you try to take him deeper. Your eyes close with the action.

“Look at me,” he pants. And you do, your beautiful gaze finding his again. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he purrs, loving the way you haven’t moved since he told you to stay. You’re already such a good girl for him. “Think you can take more?”

You mutter a muffled agreement against his cock, still not moving. Just the vibration makes Suguru’s balls tighten, a threat that he’s not going to last very long with you.

He hopes it won’t be like this the next time.

He also hopes there is a next time.

Because he’s beginning to realize something. It hasn’t been that long since he met you. Hell, it’s been less than a day. But, he’s so fucking into you it’s insane.

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes again and Suguru hisses the moment your eyes connect. He runs both hands through his hair, his thick black locks cascading around his face as he looks down at you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. You know that?”

You nod your head, tongue pressing against the underside of Suguru’s cock as you slide more of his length down your throat. You’re not going to be able to take all of him. He knows it.

You shift on the floor, thighs rubbing together to give you some sort of relief from the aching arousal between your legs. Suguru doesn’t miss this. You’ve worked hard. You deserve to enjoy yourself, too. It’s not like you got to keep your job only because of him after all.

“Touch yourself,” Suguru commands. “Play with that pretty pussy while you suck my co–” His voice cuts off, a harsh groan ripping from his throat when you move forward, one hand squeezing his cock as you try to take even more of him, the other slipping into the waistband of your pants. “So fucking good...” he whimpers, and you can’t help but moan when your fingers finally meet the onslaught of wetness that’s been rushing between your legs, absolutely soaking through your panties.

“Jesus,” he murmurs, petting your hair before gently fisting the strands between his tattooed fingers so that you’re forced to look up at him. “Ah…I love how hard you’re trying, baby. Think you can take it all the way for me, angel? Can you take it all the way into that tight fucking throat for me?”

You nod enthusiastically, eager to please with a mouth full of Suguru’s cock and your fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. The vision has Suguru’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs. Suguru pulls you forward, and you let him, going as far as you can until you’re gagging on his dick, the drool pooled in your mouth dripping from the corners of your mouth.

Even still, that doesn’t stop the moans escaping, the little mewls that let Suguru know you were fucking loving this as much as he was.

“Ah – fuck, fuck–” Suguru breathes, pulling you off of his cock with a loud pop. “I can’t,” he pants. “I can’t. If you do that again, I’ll cum –”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, taking Suguru in your mouth again, taking him as deep as you can go before pulling back and taking him in again. The lewd squelching noises of your slick fingers playing with your sweet little pussy and the mixture of your spit and Suguru’s precum hitting the floor of his dressing room fill the air. You take him to the hilt, your nose buried deep in his thick raven curls.

And Suguru’s hips began to move, fucking into your mouth as he held your head in place. This was what you wanted, right? Suguru warned you. He’d warned you what would happen if you swallowed his dick like that again, if you choked on his cock like you just did one more time. He warned you and you kept going, pushing him closer and closer. So he couldn’t help it when his body tensed, when his cock stiffened, when his thighs shook and his cock twitched in your mouth.

He couldn’t help it when he pulled out of you as quickly as he could, pumping his cock with a quick “fuck I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, baby–” muttered before his cum shot out of his swollen tip, covering your cheeks, your throat, your tongue and your chin.

And you couldn’t help it when you pushed two fingers into your tight hole, pressing your thumb to your clit the moment Suguru’s cum covers your face. And you see stars, clenching hard around your fingers as waves of your orgasm crashing over you until your vision nearly blurs.

“Shit,” Suguru murmurs with a sigh, the aftershocks of his orgasm sending shivers up his spine. He takes your arm, pulling your hand from your drenched panties, closely looking over the sheen of your release covering your fingers. He parts his lips, taking the digits into his mouth and sucking, licking your hand clean of your orgasm before he kisses you hard, shoving his tongue into your mouth immediately and groaning when he tastes the mixture of both your releases. He doesn’t even seem to care that his own cum now covers his face. The sexy grunts and moans tell you he loves it.

When he breaks the kiss, he looks you over, licking his lips of the mess he made between you. “Let me get a towel to clean us up.”

He stands, pulling his pants back up to his waist before he lifts you from your spot on the floor. You hear him shuffling around in the bathroom area as you take a seat on his couch. He returns shortly, sitting next to you. You close your eyes as he gently wipes the warm, damp towel over your face. “God, you almost killed me.” Suguru huffs quietly.

You chuckle, opening one eye to peer up at him. “Damn, am I that good?”

Suguru smiles, chuckling. “Let's just say, I’m not ever letting them fire you.”

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

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meet-the-coffee · 3 months

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Tf2 McDonalds Headcanons: Coffee edition...

So, somebody posted a template thingy and I replied to that post. Here's my full thing with my own template made lmao,,

Link to inspiriational and original post here

So, my headcanons are like this:

Heavy:

I view Heavy as a pretty serious guy so I think he can go a little further up with Medic, yet not all the way still. He can once in a while "oke oke. Heavy could go for burger. Let's eat burger." And then chuckle. But he's very much born and raised with responsibility with his mom and sisters. He's responsible and nurturing. That is his nature behind that solid mountain of a man. (Read: official comics) This man starts ordering and he doesn't stop ordering /hj,, no but fr I think like, he, alone, orders for 3 people to eat for himself. The rest stares in horror and/or awe.

Medic:

Medic is peak "ve havf food at home. Quiet down nowv, QUIEEET."

Engie:

Engie should be middle between "we have food at home" and the chanting. I think he's the mom of the group a lot of the times (cooks and bakes for the team in my hc) but I think he would very much also like to bring the "kids" to mcdonalds sometimes because why not!! So mid right it is. Probably orders some burger and a coffee. Sometimes a water or sooometimes some soda.

Demoman:

Demoman is a drunk. Drunks love fat food. Him and Soldier are dumbasses and I view them as being quite child-like like this. Demo and Soldier are absolutely chanting for burgers. But also, I think Demo is just a sliiight bit more responsible (he's mama's boy!!) Demo orders a wholeass meal ok. Something with lots of meat and bacon and cheese. Drink? Bro drinks beer. He tries to order a beer. He does not get a beer. He shrugs and chugs the beer in his hand.

Soldier:

On that note, I see Soldier as a sliiight bit more possible to go HELL YEA BURGERS, drive the fking bus in via drive-through and go "FIVE CHEESEBURGERS AND A COKE. A REEAAL AMERICAN COKE... YEAHAH." And then eat all of the burgers for himself. He's not rude he's just oblivious lmao,, not many braincells scrambling around in there.

Pyro:

Scout and Pyro are absolutely screaming for mcDonk. Pyro wants happy meal. He fucking loves the toys. He collects them, even. Keeps him occupied in the car lmao... he always orders a milkshake. Maybe strawberry flavour.

Scout:

Scout orders a 20-box of chicken nuggets (like me!!) Or the big McShare-box with different stuff like chili cheese tops, nuggets and chicken clubs, (also like me. We both audhd as hell ok) and always a coke and/or a milkshake. (Sometimes he wants both!!)

Spy:

Spy doesn't give a fuck, he gets a coffee. He just needs a coffee to be able to withstand the drive home with the bunch of toddlers in the backseat. Only chance they get to order something is if Scout bounces in (after experience from first or second time) to go "AAAND AY UHHHHHH--". Spy scoffs in annoyance and tells him to sit down and shut up. Scout does neither. He wants chicken nuggets. But first few times, Spy really just sighs at the chanting, throws his finished cig out of the crack in the window, and exits the highway for mcdonalds. And then he just goes "one black coffee please." And they go "anything else?" And he just goes "Mercí, that'll be all." And start driving for the next window before they even tell him to (more to do so before anyone interrupts and protests).

Sniper:

Sniper is below middle on the left line - between . On occasion he's like "fk sake." And goes for a coffee and probably elbows Scout in his possessions before he can do what he does to Spy. And then after paying and driving off with his coffee, he just coldly goes "Like I said. We have food at home." Like Spy, he just needs a coffee to survive the drive home. And not get an impulse to drive straight off the road into the cliffside.

[Bows bows]

Thankuthanku, that'll be all !!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 comics #tf2 memes #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 mercs #coffee talks shit again

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bbunivxrse · 4 months

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AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao

❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO

pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY

so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.

as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.

if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.

obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable.

waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table.

incoming call from gojo.

its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??”

“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned

“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!”

“no.”

“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?”

“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“

“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!”

“what?? n-“

“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'

getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?

checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out.

training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’

you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.

in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.

finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock.

you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like.

within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?”

“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.

“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,”

“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.”

“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school.

“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?”

“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.”

“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.

after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.”

“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.

as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?”

“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.”

“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.

“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…”

“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.” you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here.

“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.

as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often.

i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru

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fuumiku · 4 months

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They’re really interesting foils in many ways. I’ve always thought that Marcille & Mithrun have underrated dynamic potential. Give me the cringefail dungeon lords. Give me the elves with ears-centric metaphorical self-image issues. Give me the academic elites whose deepest strongest desires will always remain unreachable and the only option is to turn to the corrupt forbidden fruit of a demon pact. I am so so normal about Mithrun and Marcille

I wonder if the resemblance between captain Mithrun and general Hagreus aka Marcille’s fave in Dalclan is intentional… They definitely look very alike. It could represent idealization vs reality? Something something the romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction vs a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever Hagreus is the general of. I feel like she never had the opportunity to notice the resemblance herself bc within seconds of meeting him he was wrestling her on the ground but. If she had… She would so think he should have been his actor in the tallman stage play of Daltian Clan in that new extra comic hehe. I love the little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped lmao.

This art is all silly and surface level but in my head mithrille is like so dramatic and I make up daltian clan level big plots with them gbdgd. I made a spotify playlist for mithrun if y’all interested, rn it’s mostly centered around cravings that consume and losing yourself and illusions inspired from his time as dungeon lord but it’s branching out. Varied vibes, levels of intensity and degrees of confusion and await you ✨ I would emotionally rant about Chainsaw Man ost lyrics and how they tie in with Mithrun and the winged lion’s relationship but this post is already a monster

I want more of these two please please please pleaseee just one or two interactions in the new canon content coming up… All they ever did was debate philosophy on desires and human self-fulfillment and try to murder each other, please… I never get to gush about them and I can’t shut up so if you want more thoughts I talk about them more below

To get a girl to peacefully accept arrest follow these simple steps: in private, ominously stand above her and forcefully interrogate her, while in public, tell her you’ve met before (untrue and also not a pickup line, you’re just face blind) and interrogate her with a thin veneer of decorum. If all else fails, threaten and follow through on said threat. My guy needs more than just physical therapy I’m afraid

Sorry if most of these were Marcille-centric with Mithrun standing there looking cool, if I were doing these more from Mithrun’s pov things would be like "She’s a bit much but I guess I don’t mind hanging around her." or "Oh you’re a half-elf? -insert elven supremacist rethoric-" or "I have to keep her from becoming demon stew." immediately followed by "Did someone say demon? Kill kill kill kill kill" since these are set prior to like really knowing another. Then things would be more like "huh she has bad tastes in novels but her magic research is pretty interesting" and "I’m lonely and don’t understand myself— Oh she loves talking about feelings? Oh shi-" That last one is an aspect of why I like Marcille and Mithrun’s potential dynamic lol. She’s very… Emotionally intelligent alongside being impulsive. You think you have no feelings because the world has beaten them out of you? Think again!! Marcille be upon ye! -In a therapy sort of way but mostly in a connecting with people and your own self through interpersonal relationships and talking kinda way. I just think a lively, upbeat, annoying friend way too interested in your personal life would do him good, the canaries are nice but like if Marcille went to prison and was a sort of extra new bunkmate I think that’d be interesting and fun to read is what I’m saying

Unlike Kabru she wants all the useless messy filler of his backstory, eating chips while listening. Like two chibi sets side by side, "me and my fellow canaries, name name and name-" "Hold on we don’t need to know that." Vs "Then we were to sleep on the third floor of the dungeon, which had the look of a mausoleum, and name and name got into a fight over the campfire placement." while Marcille is like uh-huh what next what next while kicking her feet. She thinks of pre-dungeon pompous Mithrun and is like omg you went through a character arc and become better as a person- and then he opens his mouth and she’s like nevermind let’s keep working on that. She would also go "ew ur hair is greasy" and give him a full hair care treatment. What I’m saying is I need them to be forced to spend time in a dungeon together and become besties through a life or death roadtrip

Marcille is insecure about her ears, long, like an elf’s pride should be, but rounder, inelegant. Seeing Mithrun though, the epitome of beauty, with his half-cut ears make it a sillier thought. Not sure if Mithrun is the best person to reconnect with ur elven culture with but it sure is an option Marcille would so appreciate being around someone both cool headed and kind, I genuinely think they’d get along, like not that Senshi isn’t that too most of the time but I think Mithrun would be in a way that’s more refreshing to her. I’d be so curious about them discussing Dalclan, I doubt he’d have read it but she could make him read it, maybe post-canon with the excuse that they’re trying to find him a new hobby hah. He’d tear into the writing and everything but it’d be a fun time, I like to think that it’d make him a bit less prejudiced. Marcille @ Mithrun "👉👈 Soo maybe you don’t know these books they’re pretty recent having come out 50 years ago but…"

I’ve been in a Mithrun phase I want to make and read Mithrun-centric fics and angst so baaad. I razz him a lot here but he’s literally a traumatized military man that became obsessed with revenge due to bad coping and neglects himself in the process idk not much for him going on and some of it is because he has to work on himself, but hey no one’s perfect it all comes from a place of love and relating though I prommy. He’s the one ungodly angsty squeaky toy blorbo with brain damage rep I have don’t take him from me

#Dungeon meshi #mithrun #marcille donato #I feel like i haven’t drawn in so long i’m so rusty #Mithrille #Mithrun x marcille #Marcille x mithrun #I finally did smth for these 2 yippee #Dust and dog hairs manage to get on my drawings while i take pics it drives me mad i can’t do this anymore sorry if you see any #Continuation of my Marcille: “LET ME LOVE YOU!!” saga #Sorry marcille i hate drawing your sleeves #There are a couple things I’m not satisfied with and might redraw at one point but i need to stop and get stuff done #Marcille has 5 cm of height on mithrun according to the adventurers bible neat #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #I’ll move those last two tags up when I get to my computer #Character playlist #I made a more formal mithrille post on another blog explaining what potential i saw in them just search in the ship tag if you’re intereste

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matan4il · 15 days

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911 ep 705 first watch reactions

Of course 911 would "punish" the "You are the boss of you!" guy with an alien hand that attacks him, and does what it wants. Pooor Buck and Eddie paying the price for that...

Okay, love the storyline with Hen and Karen possibly eventually adopting an older girl. Too many shows just find easy, unrealistic ways to give their same sex couples kids, and I am really glad that 911 shows the reality of it, and that it is a more complex struggle for many, that it's an act of continuously choosing to be parents. That's actually an amazing, difficult thing, and it should be faithfully depicted and respected, for all of its heartache, and the little moments of triumph.

Buck and Tommy on a date, and Eddie comes along with Marisol? Love how Buck's bisexual awakening and coming out continues to involve Eddie so much. Tell me they're end game, even if they're not gonna get together right now, without telling me they're...

I did not need to learn Marisol is moving in with Eddie like this, with any build up, or even any sort of insight into the relationship, and nope, that does not bode well for them. IDK how 911 managed to do it, but they have somehow managed to give Eddie a love interest the show is even less invested in than Ana.

And the funniest bit, is that Marisol and Eddie's big development is only there to further Buck's journey anyway.

"You can never have too much closet space" LMAO the way 911 both made me laugh, and feel sorry for poor, baby bi Buck. XD

Hmmm. Were parts of this scene cut out? We don't get to see Eddie on his own date with Marisol, but constantly looking over at Tommy and Buck? Boo. I'm glad we at least got the BTS photos, then. But seriously, why!? That was gonna be so delicious.

Oh, Tommy's breaking up with Buck. I mean, good for him, and he ain't wrong after Buck's "after this, we're gonna go out looking for chicks" reaction, but man do I feel sorry for Buck. Him and Tommy might not be my end game (Buddie forever will be), but I do think this relationship could be good for our baby bi. Tommy being in the same profession, knowing what it's like to have this gap between who you are and the image of guys in your line of work, plus he's got more experience than Buck, is sure of himself, can help our boy figure himself out, and also Buck obviously does like his vibe. He deserves to be with someone he actually likes, not just the first woman willing to be with him that the plot pushed in his way.

Oh, baby Buck. :( You didn't even tell Maddie about Tommy. You really aren't ready it. But also (and as a Buddie shipper, more importantly), Tommy broke things off with Buck, but what is eating him up, is that he lied to Eddie. XD Yeah, this gonna end with wedding bells, sooner or later. On screen, off screen after the show ends with canon Buddie, or only in my head if 911 never dares make Buddie canon, I don't care. That kind of emotional devotion is not something that my hopelessly romantic heart can ignore.

OMG, this is how Buck comes out to Maddie? XD Via random pronoun mention, and as a by product of trying to figure out how to tell Eddie the truth? This is hilarious. lol It really makes it clear that, after all, the issue for Buck really isn't people knowing he is also dating guys (or checking their asses), even when it's the other closest person in the world for him, it's Eddie. Specifically. Buck's ready, even if he doesn't have the exact clear words yet, he's just not ready to tell Eddie. Can't imagine why. XDDD

What was that awkward post-sex scene with Eddie and Marisol? And the issues with her moving in are popping up a second after she has. But yeah, we have no idea who this woman is as a person, she's been a cardboard cut out so far, and then one of the first things we do learn about her, is that she would call her stuff better than Eddie's? Once again, this is not the stuff great romance is made of. Or... even just the stuff any kind of romance is made of.

Wait, Marisol was a nun, and Eddie didn't even know!? This whole ep is telegraphing in the news of how weird and awkward and underdeveloped this r/s is, not just for us as viewers who know nothing about Marisol, but apparently for Eddie as well.

And of course his Catholic guilt is gonna kick in now. I'd care, except 911 has given me absolutely no reason to. Seriously, I care more about Buck and Tommy after just 2 eps, than Eddie and Marisol, even though this is technically her 2nd season on the show.

Of course Buck went to find Eddie, and spotted him at the gym. Forever 201 vibes, with Eddie being the focus of Buck's attention. ^u^

I couldn't care less about Eddie's Catholic guilt crisis, and how it's actually a projection of what his real issues are with Marisol, but it's nice to see that as always, Buck's the one who can tell when something's off, and offer Eddie exactly what he needs (even when that's to talk to someone else, but Buck figures out immediately who the right person to address is), and then they just very naturally switch, because Eddie can also tell when something's off with Buck, and he wants to tell him something. Soulmates. THAT is the stuff that great romance IS made of.

:/ The imagery of Catholic nuns has not been around for over 2,000 years, please stop being ignorant about your own religion, and the very different way it looked in its early days.

Bobby is forgiven, he does give good advice, and his "her ex, the Lord" bit, which prompted that reaction from Eddie, is hilarious. XD

So... when Eddie is having issues with Marisol, he already knows he has to figure out how he feels about her, but instead of doing so, he goes to his safe place... Buck's loft.

Man, Eddie being into Tommy's choice of avoidning relationships with women, and hanging out with boys, after in the past, Eddie had dealt with his Shannon issues by running away from her, and re-enlisting in the army, where he gets to hang out with boys, when we all (Buck included) know why Tommy's "hanging out with boys"... I do like that if they want to (and hopefully they do), this further lays the groundwork for Eddie's own queer realization.

Buck and Eddie helping each other with their respective romantic problems, without realizing they are each other's respective romantic solution is gonna make me chew on my own fists. Again. But I'm not even a little bit surprised that Eddie was totally fine and accepting of Buck being bi, or that the first thing he thought of is how this reflects on them. Because their friendship IS way deeper and closer than normal for platonic friends, and Eddie's little reassurance is also an admission of that.

Man, for a second I was worried they also cut out Eddie in the loft, once more putting his thumb on Buck's pulse point possessively, in a perfect parallel to 303. I would have sued for emotional damages. But yeah, it says so much that the peak of emotional meaningfulness for Buck when coming out is in relation to Eddie, and that the scene itself peaks with Eddie, instead of finishing rushing out to take care of his own romantic business, hurries back to Buck first, to hug him, place his hand on Buck and give him orders. "Sure, you're gonna be dating this guy, but I'm still your real husband."

Well, at least Eddie amitted to himself and Marisol that he doesn't actually know her. But... I have never seen two people being both being so happy about not moving in together, and I'm supposed to think this r/s has a chance? Okay. Suuuure.

The scene with Buck going to Tommy to set things straight ready for something was lovely, it was nice seeing him excited, and get to choose, and hear he's wanted. But since the note Tommy and Buck's storyline in this ep should have ended on, is Buck showing Tommy he's ready enough to let others know he's dating a guy by inviting Tommy to come with Buck to Madney's wedding, then why is the very next scene playing the romantic switch again, making us think Buck's car just arrived at the wedding with him and Tommy, only for Buck and Eddie to walk in together? I see what you did there, 911.

Thank you for reading! If you're looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

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stayteezdreams · 9 months

Text

Room With A View: Part One

Plot: Your excited when you finally move into your new apartment, but it quickly becomes awkward when you find that your apartment balcony looks directly into your neighbor's

-Part Two-

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Gn!Reader

-Meet-Cute Series-

A/n: I really should have thought of a plot before starting this, but I didn't lmao. So it just happened as I wrote it. This fic has some jumps, it's kind of moments in time before the actual meeting at the end. There will be a part two!

Words: 2.4k

You let out a content breath as you finished unpacking another box. Your apartment was coming together nicely and you finally started to feel at ease in your new space. You were ready to live on your own again, no longer having to deal with roommates or family.

Sliding open the balcony door, you stepped out and took in a breath of the fresh air.

Walking to the railing, you leaned on it and looked down at the path below. You couldn't get an apartment with a view of the nearby park, and instead were facing other apartments, but you were desperate, so anything would do for now.

Hearing another door slide open, you looked up and felt your body freeze. On the apartment balcony across from you, a man around your age stepped out, his eyes caught on you at the same time you spotted him.

Your eyes locked as you both stopped in an awkward standstill. He obviously was not expecting you to be there.

Your immediate first though was about how attractive he was. Your second thought was about how weird he might think you were for staring at him. Then again, he as staring at you as well.

Suddenly coming to his senses, he smiled awkwardly and bowed in greeting before he grabbed a cup off his balcony table and went back inside.

You almost laughed at the encounter, but instead just went back inside, hoping you hadn't scared your neighbor off of his own balcony.

Yeosang peaked out of his window just in time to see your balcony door close. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he shook his head. Could he have made that any more awkward?

You caught him off guard, he had no idea anyone rented the apartment across from him, so the last thing he expected was to step outside with his post-nap hair and pajamas and see an attractive stranger looking at him. He panicked and now he wondered if you thought he was weird. Sighing, he shook his head, hoping if he saw you again, it wouldn't be so awkward.

The next morning, Yeosang had forgotten about the encounter entirely, until, as he passed his balcony door, he spotted movement across the way. Peaking out, he saw you sitting down at a small table on your balcony, laptop open in front of you as you sipped what he assumed was coffee.

Yeosang didn't realize how long he had been staring, as his heart seemed to flutter in his chest as he watched you. He had noticed that you were attractive the previous day, but as he watched you now, he found you even more so.

Finally realizing that he had been staring for what was probably an inappropriate amount of time, he shook his head at himself and walked away.

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye you looked up, expecting to see your new neighbor, but he wasn't there. Maybe he had just passed by his door.

You wondered if he would ever come out onto his balcony again. Maybe he was so introverted you officially made him decide to avoid his balcony. You frowned a bit at the thought, wondering what he was like, and hoping he would appear again at some point.

A few days had passed since you settled into your apartment. You had unpacked almost all of your boxes, and even set out some plants on your balcony.

Heading outside to water them, you were smiling to yourself as you approached your balcony railing, where you had installed a plant box.

"Okay, who's first?" You asked out loud before you began watering the plants, a smile plastered on your face.

After running the water over them, you glanced up and froze. Your neighbor was sitting on his balcony, phone in hand, looking over at you.

Had he been there the whole time? Did he hear you talking to your plants?

You felt your ears grow hot as you smiled and nodded your head "Hello" you said, unsure if he would hear you at all.

As he smiled softly and nodded his head in return you smiled shyly before you turned away, watering a separate plant in the corner. You took in a deep breath as you reaffirmed that he was in fact, very attractive.

Before heading back inside, you glanced back towards him, seeing his head quickly return to his laptop screen. Had he been watching you? Smiling to yourself as your heart beat rapidly, you went back inside before peaking out again, getting one last look at him before you continued with your chores.

Yeosang's heart was hammering in his chest as he forced himself not to look back over at your balcony. When you had come out, his eyes naturally moved to you. You were smiling and talking to your plants as you watered them and he found a small smile forming on his face. It was cute.

When you saw him watching you, he saw you freeze as you seemed embarrassed he was there. He heard a soft hello escape you and he repressed a small giggle as he nodded back to you.

He wondered what your name was. What did you do for a living? Were you introverted, like him? Would you get along?

These types of thoughts continued to pester both of you as you saw each other more often over the next few weeks.

You both had the routine of sitting out on the balcony with your morning coffee. Though Yeosang hadn't done this much until you moved in.

You'd share smiles and nods of greeting, stealing glances at each other when you could.

Yeosang learned you watered your plants at the same time every other day and would often conveniently be on his balcony at this time.

The two of you, though never even knowing each other's names, shared a silent conversation whenever a downstairs neighbor loudly played his horrible music at random times. Your eyes would meet and you'd both share a look of annoyance or judgement before you both smiled to yourself.

On more than one occasion, you had almost met. You spotted him heading into his building just a moment after you left yours. And he saw you checking your mail and leaving for the day before he could get close enough for you to see him.

Neither of you were brave enough to seek each other out, and found comfort in your silent communications. But, you both wanted to know more about the other, silently waiting for the moment it would happen.

Staring at your kitchen counter, you bit your lip. When you volunteered to make cookies for your coworkers, you may have gotten too excited.

Your kitchen counter was covered in freshly baked cookies. The recipe had said it would make two dozen, but you gave up counting after thirty-five and still had raw dough to use.

Even if you took more to your work than you had intended, you'd have quite a few left over. What should you do with them?

As you pondered this, movement caught you eyes. Looking up, you spotted your neighbor out on his balcony, wiping his table. You felt your heart skip and suddenly wondered if he would like the cookies you made. Would it be weird to ask? How would you even ask?

After some more time trying to decide, you finished making all of the cookie dough, and effectively ran out of room for cookies. You packed them all away, as you nervously glanced out at your neighbors balcony. He was gone, but had his door open, probably to let the nice air into his apartment.

Getting an idea, that may or may not be weird, you went with it before you chickened out entirely. If it worked, you would hopefully make a friend, if it didn't work, then he would remain a stranger you steal glances at and have silent conversations with.

Walking out onto your balcony you looked down at the paper plane in your hand before aiming at your neighbors balcony. Taking a breath, you tossed it, watching as it soared closer to his balcony, before plummeting to the sidewalk below.

You watched it all with a disappointed gaze before you let out a sigh. Making another plane, with every intention of eventually getting the first one. You attempted another throw, letting out a frustrated groan as it too fell to the sidewalk.

"Maybe I should just crumple it into a ball" you mumbled as you went to get another piece of paper.

As Yeosang walked back towards his apartment after picking up a package, his eyes landed on two paper planes lying on the ground. He frowned as he walked up to them, wondering where they came from.

Seeing writing on one, he picked it up curiously.

"I made some cookies would you like some?" Grabbing the other plane, it held a similar message "I made too many cookies, would you like some?"

He smiled to himself as he glanced up, seeing he was below your apartment. These weren't from you were they?

Just as he wondered this, he saw another paper plane shoot from your balcony before hitting the railing of his and falling down a few feet away from him. Hearing a frustrated groan from your apartment, he laughed softly.

Grabbing the other plane, he read it and chuckled, "I made some cookies. Would you like some?"

Looking up at your balcony, he quickly ran into his building, hoping he could get your attention.

Looking down at another piece of paper, you debated going down and grabbing the ones you failed to throw before you attempted any more.

Crumpling the paper you went to your balcony "One more try and then I'm giving up"

As you stepped out onto your balcony, you halted as you saw your neighbor leaning on his railing with a smile. Your eyes moved to his hands as you saw the paper planes. You went to the railing and looked down, seeing that he had gotten them.

Did he see you throwing them and went to get them? You cringed internally, wondering if he thought you were weird.

Meeting his gaze again he smiled, and you saw amusement on his face. You giggled softly, feeling your ears burning.

Pointing at the paper planes he nodded and gave you a thumbs up "I love cookies" you heard his soft voice call out, and it almost caught you off guard.

You giggled softly as you leaned over your railing, hoping he could hear you as you pointed down to the side walk "Five minutes?"

He nodded and gave you another thumbs up as you nodded and ran inside, leaving Yeosang grinning on his balcony.

After you put the cookies into some boxes, you checked your appearance over before you made your way down stairs. You took in a few deep breaths, telling yourself to relax.

As you got to the sidewalk below, you spotted Yeosang sitting on the steps to his building. He still held one of the paper planes in his hand and you felt your cheeks burn. As he spotted you, he rose with a smile and met you half way.

You smiled shyly "Hello."

"Hello" He repeated with a similar tone and smile.

Handing over the cookies with a grin his smile widened as he looked down at them "Thank you"

You nodded "I made some for work and ended up with way too many. So, I thought maybe it would be a good excuse to finally meet you, actually meet you I mean. Instead of just, seeing each other from a distance."

You feared you might be rambling so you quickly stopped, your heart hammering at the way his eyes lit up as he smiled and nodded.

"I wanted to meet you too" Yeosang felt his ears burning as he admitted so. "But I thought it would be weird to just show up at your door." Looking down at the paper plane in his hand he let out a soft laugh "The paper planes were smart.""

You smiled, feeling some relief that he had been worried about the same things you had.

"I wouldn't have thought you were weird" you reassured him and he smile softly as he looked down shyly.

Your stomach filled with butterflies, as you realized just how attractive he was, and how gentle he seemed on top of it.

"I thought you might think I was weird because of the planes." You cringed softly and he let out a soft laugh.

"No" He shook his head "I saw them when I came from from the office. I thought it was cute."

You felt like your heart might explode from your chest, and you hoped it wasn't showing on your face.

He placed his hand on top of the cookies "I should be the one to bring you a welcome gift since you just moved in."

You smiled and shook your head "You don't need to worry about something like that."

You saw doubt on his face but he nodded, though in his mind he was already thinking of buying you something. A dessert in return for the cookies perhaps.

"I'm Y/n by the way." You added on softly and Yeosang's eyes lit up. All this time he had been wondering your name, and he hadn't even asked.

He smiled "I'm Yeosang."

"It's nice to meet you Yeosang."

He quickly reached out his hand for you to take, and you smiled, shaking it softly.

An alarm from your phone killed the soft silence that lingered and you quickly turned it off before smiling at him.

"I have to go to work."

Yeosang nodded his head in understanding, but felt disappointment wash over him.

You backed up a bit as you smiled "I hope you like the cookies. Don't be a stranger okay Yeosang?"

He let out a soft laugh as he nodded, watching as you began to leave. As you looked back once more at him and gave him a soft wave he felt his heart melt.

As you disappeared into the building he already wanted to see you again. Turning to head back inside he looked down at the cookies, feeling their fresh warmth leaking through. He grinned to himself as he held the cookies close to his chest.

Thinking back on what you said, he wondered if you would really be okay with him showing up at your door. Biting his lips softly he tapped his fingers on the box.

He would have to return the box once he finished the cookies right? That would be the polite thing to do? Smiling softly to himself he nodded, it wasn't a great excuse to see you again, but it was enough.

xx End xx

-Part Two-

Ateez General Taglist: @soso59love-blog

Series Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad, @acciocriativity

#Yeosang #kang yeosang/reader #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang/reader #ateez/reader #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagine #kang yeosang imagine #ateez imagine #meet-cute #meet cute series #ateez meet-cute series #kang yeosang fic #yeosang fic #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #yeosang oneshot

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themandaloriansdiaries · 5 months

Text

Birthday Girl

This is dedicated to my bestie for the restie @libraryofloveletters , I won’t get too much into it, you already know how much you mean to me, you’re literally my soul sister, my diary. I love you so so much bookie. Happy mf-ing birthday!!! 🫶🏽

Warnings: none, Jack and his Gucci slide are mentioned like once. It’s mostly just mister dinky winky being super sweet - hopefully you don’t get the ick from him being so loving. Big man Virg is standing on business 🧍🏽‍♂️

A/N: I know I’m posting this a day late but you know I be struggling lmao. Love you bookie.

Word Count: 1583

You rolled over, expecting to be met with Virgil’s warm body but his side was cold. Furrowing your brows, you peeked through one eye - his side of the bed was empty but there was a note on the pillow.

You grabbed the note, squinting as you tried to read it.

Hi baby, I ran out to go get some pastries from your favorite bakery. I should be back soon, stay in bed as long as you want. Love youuu.

You smiled to yourself. Leaning over, you grabbed your phone before falling back into your pillow. You spent some time scrolling through your feed before finally getting out of bed.

By the time you had finished getting ready, Virgil was back with breakfast.

“Hi big man.” You smiled as you walked down the stairs.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he smiled, walking over and kissing your head, “happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you, did you get my muffin?” You asked as you sat down on the chair. “Of course, I didn't want you to beat me up.” Virg chuckled before rummaging through the box of baked goods and grabbing the chocolate chip muffin for you.

“So, since it’s your birthday, I figured I’d take you out on a shopping spree and let you spend all my money.”

You looked over at him mid bite “oh?” You laugh. “So, you do love meee.” You continued to giggle, the sound coming out muffled because of the muffin you had just bitten into.

He laughed, leaning back against his chair with his arms crossed, “yeah, I guess you could say that.”

You nudged him with your foot playfully, humming happily as you continued to eat your muffin, “this is so good.” You licked your lips.

“I had them freshly made for you.” Virgil grinned.

“Ah, you’re the best.”

—

“Should I get matching Gucci slides with Jack?” You looked over at Virgil as you both walked inside the store, you couldn’t help but laugh watching him struggle to carry all of your bags - yeah he was a giant but he was definitely struggling.

“Another bag to add to the hundred you already have me carrying?” His brow raised, it looked like he thought about it for a second, “I say go for it, I mean it is your birthday after all, baby.”

“Okay, but let me pick a pair that’s actually cute.” You joked as you continued to browse through the shoe section, you finally found a couple pairs you liked. “Which one?” you held up both pairs to show him. “Why not get both?” he suggests, “you’re not being very helpful.”

After a while of contemplating on which pair you should get, Virg finally convinced you to just get both. You said no but before you could protest any further, Virgil took both pairs up to the register.

You both continued to walk around the mall, browsing through the stores, well it was more so Virg following you around like a lost puppy, with multiple bags hanging off of his arms - but it was cute.

—

“Our dinner reservation is at 7, so you have plenty of time to get ready.” Virgil murmurs, placing a kiss to your neck, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re so pretty.” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you turned around, resting your hands on his chest, “and it’s not happening.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we need to get ready, or at least I do.” You smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“Hm, that’s true. You take forever.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, trying your hardest to bite back the smile that wanted to spread across your face. “You’re annoying.” You teased, before walking into the bathroom.

“You love me.” He shot back, following you into the bathroom.

Of course Virgil finished before you in the shower, which gave him enough time to lay out the pretty black dress on the bed, along with those stunning heels to go with it.

You had been eyeing them while you both were at the mall, but you didn’t get them. Virgil on the other hand, took notice of your interest in these shoes, so while you were off buying something in another store he went in and got them for you.

By the time you had finished in the shower, Virgil was already dressed, waiting for you.

“What’s this?” You asked, walking over to the bed where the dress was. You hadn’t noticed the heels until you got closer. “Virgil, you did not!” You gasped, staring down at the shoes, “how’d you know?” You faced him, heels in hand.

“I noticed you eyeing them as we passed by the store, so I went ahead and got them for you.”

Virgil jumped at any opportunity to make you feel special, whether it be with words or gifts. He loved spoiling you, even though you insisted that he didn’t need to, he would because he wanted to.

“You’re too good to me.”

He was closer now, standing right in front of you. “You deserve it, plus I know you’ll look amazing in both the dress and heels.”

You slipped into the dress with Virgil’s assistance to zip it up, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror smiling to yourself, it hugged your body in all the right places. Once you finished getting ready, you met Virgil downstairs and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

“What?” you smiled, suddenly feeling shy.

“You look incredible, babe.” his hands rested on your hips, as he looked at you, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips.

—

“So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” His hand rested on your thigh, caressing the exposed flesh. “We'll be there soon.”

Not long after, Virgil pulled into the parking lot.

“We’re here.” He smiled, getting out of the car and walking over to help you get out as well. “Surprise.”

You knew the name of the restaurant seemed familiar, it was the new place that had just opened up downtown. You’ve been trying to get reservations but they’ve been booked for months, - so it really was a surprise for you.

It warmed your heart, knowing that he paid attention even to the little things.

You both finally made it to the table, taking your seats across from each other. The restaurant was beautiful inside.

The rest of the night went perfectly. You really enjoyed yourself, and you could tell that Virgil did as well. He cherished moments like this, being able to spend time with you, especially on such a special occasion.

—

“Virgil, I don’t trust you.” You laugh, holding your arms out to try and grab onto whatever was in front of you.

His giant hand covered your eyes as you walked inside the house, while the other rested on your hip to help guide you. He said he had one more surprise for you.

“If I fall, I’m beating you up, I swear.” You whisper loud enough for him to hear you. You knew he did because of the snickering that could be heard coming from behind you.

“Not if I run away.”

The bickering between the two of you continued until you stopped, finally reaching your destination. “Okay, don’t open your eyes just yet.”

You felt him move his hands away so you quickly shut them, reaching forward you could feel the counter top. You were in the kitchen. Some rustling could be heard from in front of you, along with the flickering sound coming from a lighter.

“Are you lighting something?” a hint of confusion laced with your voice. “Hm, you can open your eyes now.”

You uncovered your eyes - in front of you laid a dozen beautiful red roses and a cake with the candles lit, the same exact cake you had been talking about for months.

“Make a wish.”

You leaned down, closing your eyes as you made your wish, although there wasn't really anything you wanted that you didn't already have. You took a couple seconds before blowing out the candles, the sound of Virgil whistling filled your ears as you blew them out.

Virgil grabbed two plates while you cut into the cake, of course following your family’s traditions with feeding you the cake. “How is it?” he smiled, wiping the frosting from the corner of your mouth. “It's delicious.” you offered him a bite, but you weren't going to feed him some without smearing frosting on his face. “The cake is good but you’re so foul for this babe.” he looked at you, frosting covering his chin and nose.

“Awe, you look so cute.” you tease, reaching over with a napkin to wipe his face, but he just stood there, grinning like a kid.

You continued to eat your cake, swaying around until you felt him behind you. His strong arms wrapping around your waist. You instantly melt into him, leaning your head back against his chest.

“Thank you for today, it was perfect.” you look up, patting his cheek. “Anything for my girl.” he placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“Mm, I love you.”

#virgil van djik #pookie’s birthday post #happy mf-ing birthday bookie #virgil van dijk fluff #virgil van dijk blurb #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk fic #virgil van dijk one shot #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dyke #virgil van dijk fanfic #football x reader #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #footballer fluff #footballer fic

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moonliteve · 1 month

Text

Headcanons for the early days of the deadly alliance

a second deadly alliance hc post has hit the hourglass......highly suggest u read my previous post about their past before reading this one!

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

shang tsung was surprised to see that damashi had found someone else to be apart of their scheme to take over the realms

he was a bit upset at first

does that mean i have to share the fruits of my labor? he thought to himself

quan chi, who was still kind of dazed by the whole stunt damashi pulled back in the mines, doesn't say much

he nods, quietly mumbles formalities and fumbles with his hands quite a lot

damashi tells shang they must work together in order to rule

shang was a bit baffled at the notion at first- the man before him who barely spoke and was covered in dirt and grime was supposed to help them somehow?

to which damashi gets a bit angry with shang, he explains the innate magic he possesses and his potential

"you would dare question me, shang tsung?"

immediately shuts down any protesting from him. damashi is his benefactor after all. surely he knows what's best for them

so fine. he'll try and work with the newcomer

the first few months did not go well AT ALL LMAO quan chi wasn't very talkative and he always practiced magic by himself

shang was always the one trying to initiate conversations and secretly observed the other sorcerer practicing

little did he know quan chi did the same

he's. still a bit nervous about approaching shang directly. since he was the later one to join and train under damashi's guidance he felt like his magic was subpar of shang's

he did appreciate the space shang gave him tho. he just needed some time by himself since now that he was out of the mines he was able to do whatever he wanted

day and night he would bury himself in books about all sorts of things, but he took a liking to architecture, biology and different kinds of magic- especially forbidden magic but he wasn't sure if he should be dabbling in that until damashi learnt about his interest in darker magic, that's when he started fully enabling him to practice netherrealm magic

it wasn't until sometime after that did quan chi ask shang for help for the first time

shang was more than happy to help to quan chi's surprise, he didn't think the other sorcerer would be as open as he would be atm

"it would benefit us to have a good relationship, quan chi. after all, any alliance that aids us with our plans is one worth having, is it not?"

he was glad that shang seemed to like him

he thought for the longest time just from first impressions that shang still disliked him, but they seem to be getting along well now

and this made quan chi willing to open up more to shang as well

happy days :)

the three of them were stationed at an abandoned outpost in a remote area, damashi would be the one helping them gather whatever they needed since he could shapeshift and he didn't want any of them to be under the rada

it wasn't anything fancy but they had what they needed

shang had a shitty little basement where he did his experiments, also where he kept syzoth in

quan chi didn't get to see the basement until shang decided to give him a tour. he had always wondered where shang was most of the time when it was mostly damashi who went outside

sure quan chi was shocked at first seeing all of shang's creations. but he wasn't one to judge

he knew shang came from awful conditions as well, they've both been mistreated by everyone around them so why couldn't they do the same?

plus the experiments intrigued him immensely

it was after shang showed him his basement did quan chi elaborately plan on building him a proper vivisection chamber

he wanted to show his gratitude somehow. along with damashi shang has also helped him a lot with practicing his magic

around the same time they had gotten insider info from damashi that the heir to the throne has tarkat

and with how skilled shang was at persuasion and sweet talking, they easily landed a place in outworld's court in no time with the promise of a suppressor/cure for the disease

they transferred their workspace to the laboratory that was provided to him, which was WAYY nicer than what they had before, just the look of it gave others a good impression of shang: a diligent scientist who was neat and efficient

with quan chi's architectural knowledge they built the vivisection chamber underneath the laboratory. shang planned out the whole facility and what he wanted to include while quan chi mainly did the construction since he was familiar with this kind of work, shang even created new specimens for a few extra hands

#they r soooo dear to me #they definitely had a really rocky relationship at first u can't tell me shang was a teensy bit jealous of quan chi #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 shang tsung #shang tsung #mk1 quan chi #quan chi #deadly alliance #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons

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ragnarokhound · 1 month

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((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞

From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa

anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)

Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence

15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed.

Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.

He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay?

But, uh. Let’s back up a little.

—

Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.

He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air.

Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.

So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.

With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.

"What's going on here?"

The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.

“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.

“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”

Tim stops in his tracks.

“Forty-eight—?”

“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”

Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive.

Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front.

Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.

It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.

Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—

And then Tim thinks about the call.

The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later.

He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.

“Today,” he repeats.

She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”

"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."

—

He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.

Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.

Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.

Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.

He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.

As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.

“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”

The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”

“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”

“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.

“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”

“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”

—

The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape.

He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.

He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.

By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this.

Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.

Fuck it.

He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.

Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’— which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.

Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.

He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.

Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—

And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.

“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”

He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.

—

Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.

See, here’s the thing.

The thing is, he has options.

He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down).

He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.

And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.

No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.

With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:

“Hand over your wallet!”

He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.

Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.

Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.

The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.

“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”

The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.

“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”

The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”

Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight.

His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.

“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”

“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.

Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.

“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”

Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.

“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.

Tim blinks. So do the muggers.

He knows that voice.

“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.

Everything happens pretty quickly after that.

Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.

Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes—

Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.

Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop.

So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.

Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.

“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”

Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.

Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.

Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.

“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.

Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.

“Yeah. Had.”

So much for the League, Tim muses.

Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror.

“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”

Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”

Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.

“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed.

God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way.

“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”

—

They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.

“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”

“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”

“Again. Fucking ew.”

“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”

“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”

Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”

Jason thwacks him upside the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”

“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.

Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”

Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.

“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”

Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.

Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.

“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”

Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.

“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”

“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”

The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.

Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.

“Jason—!”

“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”

“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”

“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”

“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.

“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”

The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.

“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”

Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.

Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.

“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.

“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.”

Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.

“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”

He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.

And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.

He knows, okay?

“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”

Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.

And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to.

But he still means it.

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”

The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.

The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.

But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.

Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”

Jason’s grin is electric.

He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.

Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—

—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.

“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”

“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.

“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”

Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch.

The kiss is— bad. At first.

Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.

Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.

“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.

“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”

Tim is already asleep.

#one hundred thousand years have passed #i creak up out of the soil gasping and hacking and coughing #'i lived bitch'#'have some jaytim that grew legs on me'#my writing #asked and answered #jaytim #ladytauria #hurt/comfort #this one is sillier and more light-hearted than the other ones #the hurt is more like 'near tears travel exhaustion' than your typical aftermath of violence lol but it so definitely counts #i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger #i KNOW it's a very fast get together but i did Not want this to become my next 5 digit wordcount fic okay. okay. oka #the bones of a long 'tim and jason vs the league of assassins' fic is hiding here #and if i actually wrote that this would have ended much differently #but i am Not Writing That okay I am Writing Cowboys and also Werewolves Right Now. I Do Not Have Time For This!!!!!!#prompt fill

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