#<- it was not intended to look like that but I like it :)
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14dayswithyou · 2 days ago
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PSA ! Because I've seen it be brought up in YouTube videos, in the comments section on Itch, and in quite a few asks on Tumblr... Here are some common misconceptions about "14 Days With You" that I'd like to clear up!
14 Days With You is not an otome game; it's an amare game!! The main character (Angel) is not a female heroine/female protagonist, and they're not written to be female-coded. Yes, you have the option to customise your pronouns and how others perceive you, but there is no "default" or fixed narrative perspective for 14DWY (outside of a gender-neutral perspective).
If it isn't already obvious, Ren's characterisation heavily leans into the "dere" aspect of a yandere. He genuinely loves Angel... Just to a terrifying degree.
None of the cast members are heterosexual, so please don't assume that all of Teo's exes/flings were women, that Leon has only had girlfriends in the past, that Olivia is only attracted to good-looking men, etc. In a similar vein, I want to remind everyone that Jae-Hyun is gay and Kiara is a lesbian.
14DWY is also a romance game!! The whole point is to get to know Ren, grow closer with him, and ultimately romance him. So please stop asking me to include BTD, TDDUP, or W1WD mechanics in the game. It's completely fine if you like those types of genres — and I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum — but it's not the vibe I'm going for with 14DWY, and it's not something I want to write about.
Ren dyes his hair! He isn't wearing a pink wig.
Similarly... Violet, Jae, Moth, and Teo all dye their hair as well. But I'm happy if folks want to headcanon that "unnatural" hair colours can exist in the 14DWY universe.
Ren does not have DID or BPD. He's merely a desperate yandere who changes aspects of himself + creates different "personas" to appease Angel (and essentially become their ideal type). He definitely has a pessimistic outlook on his real self, though he does not identify or feel genuine in any of his created personas. I'm comfortable for those who have DID/BPD/etc to headcanon Ren as such, but I heavily discourage everyone else from doing so as I don't want to give them an incorrect or bad reputation.
The 18+ scenes are optional!!!!! The game is intended to be played without them — it's even turned off by default. Nobody is forced to sleep with Ren.
14 Days With You is a passion project that I work on in my free time for fun. I'm not making a profit off of it, I'm not looking to turn it into a career, and in the most /pos way possible; it's not important enough for me to make a priority. So... Please stop guilt-tripping me for updates when I already don't have enough time or luxury to work on it ;v;
(last edited: 19/101/24) — I may add more here over time!!
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southpauz · 3 days ago
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I am genuinely frightened for the future of America, its people, and every other country that America imposes itself upon.
Trump's administration falls under literally EVERY defining characteristic of Fascism.
Far-right conservatives have completely overtaken our mainstream media, forcibly silenced them, or bought them out so they can praise and sane-wash Trump over fear of retribution.
His administration is owned by the ultra wealthy who control all of our social media apps/sites. Every large corporation owner was in attendance at Trump's inauguration, sitting in FRONT of his cabinet. Tiktok is spreading pro-Trump propaganda, Zuckerberg intends to "remove factchecking" from Meta platforms (like Facebook and Instagram itself), and Bill Gates just said he had a fascinating talk with Trump recently and was impressed by him.
Elon Musk, the richest man in the world, bought Twitter and completely turned it into an alt-right misinformation machine that spews hatred over diversity and acceptance and directly impacted people's impression of the election which lead to Trump's victory. He changed the algorithm on Twitter to boost nazi, transphobic, racist rhetoric alongside retreating similar posts to his audience and changed the algorithm to suppress democratic posts.
After Trump's inauguration Elon was on stage and he gave an enthusiastic NAZI SALUTE. TWICE. ON TELEVISION.
They're targeting our education to keep us dumb and complacent little worker bees so we don't learn how to critically think and see through the propaganda and lies they spew.
They are targeting minorities, especially the trans community and undocumented immigrants, to make people fight a different "enemy" than the people ACTUALLY harming them: the 1%.
They are targeting women's right to their own bodily autonomy in order to keep making sure they keep having worker bees to keep making them more money and to foster a disdain for human rights in our population by linking our government to evangelical Christian morals.
We are in danger.
Please do your proper research and make sure you take your information from multiple sources, including primary sources like court and governmental documents, to prevent bias.
Please look into local programs, volunteer opportunities, and social gathering events so you can get to know your community better and help build more solidarity and safety.
Please keep your eyes open to help your neighbor who may be targeted by this administration. Make sure to should "LA MIGRA" if you spot any ICE vehicles to alert your undocumented friends and neighbors, and remember that police can't come into your home without a warrant and you have the right to remain silent.
Most importantly: DO NOT GIVE UP. It feels so hopeless, but the only thing that can make it worse is if we give up. Becoming compliant in advance only speeds up fascist takeovers.
Resist. Be careful. Care for one another. I love you guys.
Unless you voted for or currently support Trump. Go fuck yourselves you pieces of shit.
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luveline · 1 day ago
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hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!
take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝
The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page. 
Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be. 
“Stop it.” 
“No.” 
“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways. 
He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t,” he says. 
“Maybe I do.” 
“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.” 
You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.
You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless. 
And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner. 
“I’m pretty good on the computer.” 
“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.” 
“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see. 
Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too. 
“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”
He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly. 
“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”
“When have you ever made my life easier?” 
Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt. 
“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.” 
“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”
“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.” 
“Flirting,” he corrects. 
Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?” 
He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?” 
“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?” 
His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.” 
Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin. 
He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.” 
You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.” 
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missarchive · 3 days ago
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captured in quiet glances
spencer reid
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cw; making out in the bullpen, slightly cocky spencer, flirting, nervous!reader, GLASSES GLASSES GLASSES (cause they need a warning of their own), cockblocking in the workplace
an; based on an ask i received a little while ago but accidentally deleted, my sincere apologies, sweet anon, i hope you enjoy!
wc; around 3k
Spencer Reid.
The very same name had rolled off your tongue in whispered prayer late in the night more times than you could count. When you could finally enjoy solitude, away from prying eyes, away from the people who knew what you were thinking before you even did. Your attraction to Spencer was no secret—how could it be?
Not when your gaze lingered on him far too long, tracing the sharp curve of his jaw, the delicate arch of his brow, or the way his hands moved when he spoke, gesturing with an awkward yet endearing intensity.
Not when your heart skipped a beat every time he laughed at something you said, even if it was something ridiculous. And certainly not when your stomach fluttered with reckless abandon whenever his eyes locked onto yours, as if you were part of the mystery he was trying to solve.
But today was different.
You hadn’t expected to find him in the bullpen this morning looking like that.
The moment you stepped through the doors, your feet faltered, your bag sliding precariously down your shoulder as your brain scrambled to catch up with the vision before you. Spencer Reid. In glasses.
Not the kind of glasses someone wears begrudgingly, as a last resort after losing a contact. No, these were intentional. Framed to perfection, resting effortlessly on the bridge of his nose, accentuating the sharpness of his features in a way that sent your thoughts spiralling.
The lenses framed his cautious brown doe-eyes, once soft and inquisitive, now sharp and calculated, as though seeing the world through a new, refined lens. They gave him an air of confidence, something you might mistake for cockiness in anyone else. But with Spencer, it was different.
You knew his ego when it came to his intelligence—how could he not have one? Years of being underestimated, of facing disbelief instead of encouragement, had built him into a man who wielded his knowledge like armour.
He wasn’t the same awkward boy genius anymore. Today, standing there in his crisp shirt and fitted vest, pushing those damned glasses up the bridge of his nose with a casual flick of his fingers—he was something else entirely.
He was devastating.
"Y/N?"
His voice shattered the daze you had fallen into, and you blinked rapidly, realizing you had been staring. Heat flooded your cheeks as your grip tightened on your bag, your mind scrambling for an escape.
"Morning, Spencer," you managed, forcing a smile that you hoped masked the chaos inside you.
His lips quirked into a polite smile, his eyes scanning your face in that way that made your skin prickle. He adjusted his glasses again, and you had to fight the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to reach out and do it for him.
Focus, Y/N.
You dropped your bag onto your desk with a little too much enthusiasm, papers shuffling under your fumbling hands. Anything to keep yourself busy. Anything to stop thinking about how ridiculously attractive he looked today. Because if you let yourself dwell on it too long, you'd be doomed.
"Everything okay?"
His voice was closer now, and when you glanced up, he was standing right beside your desk, those sharp, knowing eyes analyzing you with quiet intensity. You swallowed hard, forcing a casual shrug.
"Yeah," you croaked, clearing your throat. "Just didn’t get much sleep last night."
Spencer nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. "If you need caffeine, I just brewed a fresh pot in the break room."
You nodded, your voice coming out higher than intended. "Thanks, Reid."
As he walked away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Spencer Reid in glasses was going to be the death of you.
The morning passed in a blur of stolen glances and clumsy keystrokes, each one more humiliating than the last. You were convinced you'd managed to play it cool—until you heard your name.
"Y/N."
Your head snapped up, eyes widening as Spencer stood beside your desk again, arms crossed over his chest. He had that look—the one that said he had already unraveled the entire situation in his head and was just waiting for you to confirm it.
"You’ve been acting... different today," he observed, tilting his head slightly.
Your heart stuttered in your chest. "Different? How?"
You aimed for nonchalance, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.
Spencer's lips twitched in amusement. "For one, your typing speed has decreased by approximately thirty percent. You’ve corrected yourself five times in the last hour, and you haven’t made eye contact with me for more than two seconds at a time. Normally, you maintain it for an average of 6.4 seconds."
Damn it. Why did he have to be so perceptive?
You shifted in your seat, waving a dismissive hand. "Maybe I’m just tired."
Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Or maybe..." He leaned in, his voice dropping slightly, "it has something to do with the fact that you've been staring at my glasses all day."
Your stomach plummeted, and heat rushed to your face. He knew. Of course he knew.
"I—" you began, scrambling for an excuse, but his soft chuckle cut you off.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “I noticed the way your pupils dilated when you first saw me this morning. It’s a physiological response to attraction.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God, Spencer.”
His chuckle deepened, and when you peeked through your fingers, he was smiling—genuine and warm, with a hint of something else beneath it. Something smug.
“So,” he prompted, watching you carefully, “you think I look good in glasses?”
You let out a nervous laugh, finally dropping your hands. “Okay, fine. Yes, Reid. You look… good in glasses. Happy now?”
His eyes sparkled behind the lenses, and he nodded thoughtfully, fiddling with the leather strap on his messenger bag.
You felt the blush creep back up your neck as you realised where the conversation was headed. “Spencer Reid,” you said, trying to sound chastising. “Are you propositioning me?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes,” you said bluntly, trying not to let your tone betray the excitement that was building inside you.
Spencer was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Is that… okay?” he murmured, leaning in even closer, until his face was only inches from yours.
You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your ears. You shook your head, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. “Yes, yeah- more than okay...”
Spencer’s lips parted, a soft huff of air escaping him. His fingers curled over the edge of your desk, gripping it like he needed the support to stay standing. He looked at you with those sharp, calculating eyes, but something had changed. His gaze had softened. It wasn’t as intense as it had been before.
 It felt more like he was watching you—really watching you. Like he was taking in every little detail. The way your hair curled slightly at the nape of your neck, the soft pink hue of your lips, the shape of your eyes.
He leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
A shiver ran down your spine, and you swallowed hard. “How long?”
Spencer’s thumb rubbed against the edge of your desk in a soothing motion, his eyes still locked on yours. “As soon as you joined the team,” he said, and even though his voice was steady, his words were laced with a vulnerability that made your chest ache. “You walked in, and everything changed for me.”
Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your ribcage. Spencer Reid had been attracted to you since day one? You felt his fingers brush against your hand, tentative as they intertwined with yours. Your palm tingled at the touch, and you looked down, watching as he threaded his fingers through yours.
Spencer’s eyes followed your gaze, lingering on the sight of your joined hands before flicking back up to your face. His fingers tightened around yours, his mouth opening to speak. “Do you still want this?” he asked, and it was different from the earlier question.
This time, there was no teasing in his voice, no confidence. He looked nervous. Anxious. Vulnerable. He looked like a man who had spent years wondering if he had a chance. A man who couldn’t believe he might finally get it.
And that—that was all it took. That was all you needed to see in him. You reached up, running your palm over his cheek and threading your fingers through his hair. You looked him straight in the eye. “I do,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed at the words. His body seemed to sag against yours, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the response.
When his eyes opened again, they weren’t shy anymore. They were sharp, burning with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs.
He leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours, feather light. Your breath hitched, and his tongue slid out, tracing over your bottom lip. He tugged at your lower lip, pulling it between his teeth to nibble. You gasped, his mouth swallowing the sound. Your hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss.
He tasted like mint and chocolate, like your favourite kind of candy. His lips were softer than you imagined, his tongue hot and slick as it tangled with yours. You let out a moan, and Spencer’s grip on your waist tightened.
He pulled you closer, his hips shifting against yours, and that was all it took for your entire body to tense up. The feeling of his erection against you was enough to send your pulse into overdrive.
You wanted him. Needed him. So, so badly.
When he pulled away, your lips were swollen, and you felt like you might come right then and there. Your entire body was burning with need, tingling with arousal. “Spencer,” you gasped, clutching at his shirt. You tugged him closer, your mouth seeking his again. His hands tightened on your waist, and he groaned into your mouth, kissing you harder.
This wasn’t a gentle kiss. This wasn’t the sweet, tender moment you’d been imagining. This was desperate and needy, like he couldn’t get enough of you.
And you felt the same.
But a sound tore through the bullpen, snapping both of you back to reality.
The break room door had swung open. You heard the clatter of mugs on the counter as someone went for coffee. Spencer’s head snapped back, and he cursed under his breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling away. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, like he was struggling to catch his breath.  He ran a hand over his mouth, looking more than a little dazed.
You couldn’t blame him. You felt like you’d just been hit by a freight train.
“We’re still at work,” he whispered, his voice thick. He glanced at the break room, then back to you. “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, running your fingers through your hair. “It’s okay,” you said, forcing a laugh. “I think it’s been a while since anyone’s gotten action at the office.”
Spencer’s brows arched, and a laugh escaped him. It sounded more like a cough at first, but then grew louder, until he was grinning. You smiled back at him, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered.
As Spencer’s laugh faded, a comfortable silence lingered between you, but the tension was still palpable, buzzing in the air like static electricity. His hand lingered on the edge of your desk, fingers drumming softly as if he were debating what to say next.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen like this,” he admitted, his voice softer now, carrying a note of vulnerability that made your heart ache. “But... I’m not sorry it did.”
Your lips parted in surprise, your chest tightening at his words. You swallowed hard, gathering enough courage to answer. “Me neither.”
Spencer’s gaze softened further, the intensity in his eyes replaced by something warmer, more earnest. He hesitated, glancing toward the bullpen as if checking to see if anyone else might appear. When he was satisfied you were still alone, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
“What do we do now?”
The question hung in the air between you, weighty and full of possibilities. You felt your pulse quicken, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a wave.
You smiled nervously, shifting in your seat. “Well, for starters, we don’t get caught making out in the middle of the office.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his lips curving into that shy, boyish smile you’d always found so endearing. “Good point.” He straightened up slightly, adjusting his glasses—a gesture that was quickly becoming your undoing. “But after that…?”
You hesitated, biting your lip. This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you’d planned for when you woke up this morning. But as you looked up at him, at the way he stood there watching you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter, you realized you didn’t want to let this moment slip away.
“Dinner,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Tonight. My place.”
Spencer’s brows lifted, and for a brief moment, you worried you’d been too forward. But then his expression softened again, and he nodded. “I’d like that,” he said simply.
Relief flooded through you, and you found yourself smiling despite the lingering nerves. “Good. Then it’s a date.”
Before he could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped both of you back to reality. Spencer stepped back quickly, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. You grabbed a random file off your desk, pretending to review it with far more interest than necessary.
“Reid! Y/N!” Emily’s voice rang out as she approached, a cup of coffee in hand. “Hotch wants us in the conference room. New case.”
You both nodded, mumbling acknowledgments as Emily disappeared down the hall. When you glanced at Spencer, you found him already looking at you, a small, private smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Tonight,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear before turning and heading toward the conference room.
You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest. Tonight. The word echoed in your mind, full of promise and anticipation.
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airandangels · 2 hours ago
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I was looking up Spellbound on Common Sense Media, and I’ll just say, CSM is a useful site for giving you a pretty objective rundown of what’s actually in a kids’ movie, kind of like Does the Dog Die? but with a broader focus. However, a lot of the commenters on reviews are American Christian parents trying to shelter their children from anything they find problematic, and boy, were some of them pressed that this movie deals with divorce. You know, the thing that happens in about half of all American marriages? The main character asks her parents “If you can stop loving each other, could you stop loving me?” which made one mom furious, that children should hear such a thought voiced before, she assumes, they would ever have thought of it themselves.
Madam, that is the point. By learning about difficult things before we experience them ourselves, we can deal with them better if we eventually do. (And the character’s parents then reassure her - in song, even - with music by Alan Menken, even - that they will never stop loving her!) And you don’t know what every child is thinking about, and you don’t actually know what your child is thinking about. The idea of protecting children’s innocence is being carried so far as to leave them completely unprepared for things which they may actually encounter far earlier than their parents intend. And even if they don’t have these difficult experiences, they can be more understanding and compassionate to peers who do!
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Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.
The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth
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uravitypng · 22 hours ago
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𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲
pairing: yandere satoru gojo x chubby reader
summary: at the beginning gojo made your life hell when he first sees you because you won't give him attention. then it all changes, he just hated seeing you cry and he'll use all his resources and power to love you and spoil you
word count: 14.7k words
a/n: okay okay! i'm back! with something incredibly longer compared to every other oneshot i've written. i started this before gojo's birthday but it just kept getting longer and longer, then came the holidays and then i got ill too but it's finally finished, yay! i hope you all enjoy this and of course like always make sure you read the warnings before reading x
content warnings: gojo is a yandere!! friends to lovers, hints of stalking, gojo manipulates everyone, mentions of breeding, fingering, rough unprotective sex, cumming inside, gojo calls her 'silly girl' in his head and thinks she thinks to much (kind of like 'you don't need to think or make decisions or earn money because i can do that for you'), dirty talk, dumbification, objectification(?), submissive reader, dominant gojo, petnames: princess, sweetheart, (good girl) (if i've missed anything please let me know because it's very possible with 14.7k words - mdni / 18+
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everyone flocks to satoru gojo, girls and guys alike, they want his attention, if only for a second, and want to be noticed by him. he's the beating heart to every social situation, with an ability to draw every single eye in the room on him, feeding off the spotlight and admiration. whatever he wants he gets it, he has since he was a young child so why are you being so difficult?
there's not many who he considers his equal, if he had to pick out one it would be his best friend from childhood suguru geto, two families telling their children to talk to the other in hopes to form more connections. gojo remembers to this day being five years old dressed up in a suit that was too stuffy for any five year old to wear, taken to a party with his parents. everywhere he looked there were elites and politicians, anyone and everyone with power. he remembers the nudge his mother gave him towards suguru's direction, telling her son to make friends. others at the university are lesser than him, but they're entertaining for a short duration, before he gets bored of them and tosses them away for someone else, that is.
then there's the nobodies, the lowest of the low. uninteresting in every way possible with nothing to offer him, nothing to pique his interest and in terms of satoru gojo you're a typical nobody but even the nobodies look his way when they think people won't notice. even the really shy ones or the stubborn ones who always say how much they despise how everyone adores him will momentarily glimpse in his direction when they think no one's looking.
but you... you look right past him, and it pisses him off. do you think you're better than him? even people in long term relationships eyes drift to him, most would break up with their partner for just one night with him. this 'most' mainly means all, everyone wants a chance to be with the man whose sexual escapades are spoken about frequently in such a high regard.
it's not like you don't know about his existence, you do, but you want to keep yourself to yourself. even your closest friends talk about the famous satoru gojo but he gives you the shivers for some reason. you've never spoken to him and you don't intend to, even if it's everyone's dream, it's not yours, something's just not quite right about him. you live in completely different worlds, different universes, and you prefer to dream about things more realistic, maybe dragons and flying saucers on occasion but never satoru gojo. not only is associating with him unrealistic but just the thought of him makes you shudder. he's too cocky, too self-assured, too arrogant, too loud, too... attractive, it doesn't seem right that someone would look that good. it's like he's hypnotised everyone bar you.
first it's irritation when he notices your behaviour, it's clear when you're acting the complete opposite to everyone, then it's anger when he sees you pay attention to someone that isn't him. something must be wrong with you if you're laughing at a joke that he didn't make, a joke told by another nobody, not just a nobody but someone a year younger. his actions are fuelled by his anger and his annoyance towards you. he makes sure every friend and acquaintance you have stops talking to you, it's easy really. all those so called 'friends' leave you alone after 'overhearing' hushed voices talk about how gojo's more likely to talk to someone when they're not friends with someone who's like you. it was easy to orchestrate it, all he needed was two girls who constantly fawn over him, perfect for doing his bidding.
"gojo never talks to yumehara, even though she tries so hard."
"yeah, it's because she's friends with moriyama. associating with someone like her is a no-go."
"moriyama?"
"yeah, you know that girl in class a, the one who thinks she's better than everyone and doesn't care about gojo."
you now sit by yourself and walk the corridors alone- easy. if he was more sympathetic towards you he'd almost feel bad that all of your friends would stop talking to you so readily.
next was your grades. the gojo family funds the university meaning that he had much more power than the average person, even more than people who also come from wealthy families. professors know it's in their best interest not to get on the bad side of the heir of the gojo family, not just for the university's sake but for themselves as well. one wrong move and they'll be fired, blacklisted throughout town unable to get a job. one wrong move and the university could lose all their funding. he wields more power than the headmaster.
you already get average grades, typically b's and occasionally c's but if he plays his cards right he knows he can lower those c's another extra grade down to an f and he knows just who to start with. professor iura: a man in his mid-thirties who's respected by all and he knows you like him. he's been told you try extra hard in his class, taking double the amount of notes in his lectures than you ordinarily do. he knows getting an f in his class first would be more hurtful than over all the other classes.
"professor iura don't you think the girl who wrote the paper on-" he stops mid sentence, what did you write about again?- "something so boring it hasn't even sunk in. i remember everyone else's but not hers." he only remembers his own and there was never any reason to see what a nobody like you wrote about.
the professor's eyebrows furrow before quickly schooling his expression back to impassive. satoru has used his influence before but iura's never heard about him using it as payback for whichever poor soul's caught his ire. "who is it?" iura thought you deserved an a this time, it's disappointing that he'll have to give you an f.
all these things start stacking up and you feel like the universe is against you, you don't understand your sudden drop in grades or why your friends won't talk to you. you do your best to put on a brave face but you feel alone, you have no one to turn to, you don't understand why everyone gives you the cold shoulder and why they pretend you don't exist, your facial expression dropping when someone ignores you for the umpteenth time. you don't understand how your water always seems to spill in your bag all over your things even though you swear you've put on the lid securely, screwing the lid on the bottle so tightly your hands suffer the consequence, almost raw, from how tight you've tried to make it. you can't afford to buy another textbook and you don't have enough time to rewrite your essay.
you don't understand how things go missing every time you look away. you glance to the window when you see a falling leaf, burnt orange and crimson red litter the floor outside. autumn is so beautiful, a season of harvest and abundance but it's a reminder to you that nothing lasts forever, leaves fall and people leave. people talk about how autumn is maturing but omits the melancholy idea that it's just growing old, that burnt oranges and crimson reds are just rotting on the ground. your whole world is rotting with every second, the universe has it out for you and by the time you look back into the room your pen is missing.
gojo takes pleasure from seeing your face at these times, that puzzled look and biting your lip in frustration as you've lost another pen or that pout when your friend ignores you, he thinks it looks pretty on you. not that he'd ever admit that of course.
his pleasure twists though, into a new emotion- a darker emotion. you got another f and you look... sad... distraught. satoru enjoys seeing your pout when something goes wrong for you, he thinks it's pretty but he's watching you like a hawk right now, he can't take his eyes off you, he can tell you're trying desperately to hold it all together but you can't stop your eyes from welling up, it's impossible to stop your waterline brimming with tears, overflowing like a broken tap, hot tears running down your face, you attempt to quickly wipe your tears away with the back of your sleeve in hopes that nobody has seen but it's too late for that. he thought he would take pleasure in seeing you cry but instead it's pure rage. even though he's the one that's convinced all of your professors to give you f's, all he feels is fury for them making you cry. he doesn't want you to cry, he wants to keep you safe, wants to make you all his.
in the following weeks professors leave the university without announcing it to students. leaving studies and classes in a limbo for awhile. not just the professor who made you cry is gone but also iura and several others.
with that limbo period came more group projects to fill in the space of the lack of lectures. a 'little' push from satoru to higher ups and you were paired up together, leaving you no choice to spend time together and have your first conversation with each other. at this point he needed to be near you. you sit across from each other after class and you introduce yourself to each other, even though you both know who the other is, you didn't expect him to know you and he acts like he doesn't. "oh i know you, i really liked your last paper. you got an f, right? i can't believe that, it was the best one." after all your friends avoiding you and all those f's getting validation makes you shyly smile, your cheeks feel warm and you're starting to understand why people like him.
things start to change after that. your f's go back to normal and people are kinder, with everything going back to normal satoru makes sure you're still alone though, makes sure your friends continue not to talk to you. he's the only one that's allowed to do that. your friends still don't spend time with you, instead gojo does and honestly you don't mind that change, you appreciate that change, you don't know what happened with your friends but you like how gojo doesn't dismiss your emotions and opinions like they used to do.
you previously had that inkling that something was wrong with him but his easygoing smiles and playful words make you enjoy your time with him and his once overconfidence that you always used to observe which once bothered you now makes your heartbeat go crazy in your chest, like marching drums hammering away against your ribcage.
satoru notices this change in you and he takes advantage of it. this change doesn't make him lose interest in you, maybe if you were someone else it would but not with you, if anything it makes him more interested because he learns more and more without you, some with your consent and knowledge others without it. he thinks you look so cute when you smile and he loves hearing you laugh. he never really liked music but he's listened to all those music and songs you share to the world like the ones you love that you play in cars and talk to people about them, plus the more secret ones hidden in your likes and private playlists. he loves the things you do that you don't realise you're doing, the soft sighs you make when you put on a warm coat when it's cold or the hums when you drink a hot drink. how you bite your pen when you're deep in thought and linger by the door before leaving the house and locking up, mentally checking you have everything you need with you. the little moans you make when you eat something that you love, at those times satoru has to restrain himself from kissing you. he loves it all. he loves you.
you see each other whenever possible and if you can't you'll be texting, he'll send you emoji's at the end of messages that you don't understand the context to and will send you selfies and photos of cats he's seen while around town.
after the first few times at the library you tend to see each other at café because they're more relaxed and you can talk as loud as you want to. he starts paying for your lunch whenever you're together, you always used to insist to pay yourself but after the first few times you relented, he could buy you breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for the rest of your life yet it still wouldn't make a dent in his wallet. not only does he buy you lunch now but it's much more extravagant then you could afford for yourself.
you're walking together past a store front window and gojo sees something that catches his eye, stopping where he is and pulling on your sleeve to stop you too. "look at this!"
your eyes scan the window not knowing what he's talking about, all of them are designer clothes but none of them are men's. "what are we looking at gojo?"
he grins and points to a blouse, "that would look so good on you, you'd look so cute!" 'doubtful' you think. you scoff, that is a cute blouse but no way. "hey, what was that for? it's true." he insists.
"i don't even need to go in there to see that it's way out of my price range, plus designer brands like that never have my size anyway."
"you didn't say you didn't like it."
"me liking or not liking it isn't the point."
you carry on the rest of your day like it didn't happen and you forget about the whole thing. gojo doesn't.
all of gojo's fans start to get jealous of you, it's been over three months, the limbo period is over and new people have been hired, group projects are finished but you still spend all your days together. his previous relationships have been no more than eye candy only lasting a couple weeks yet you don't even seem to be dating so why is he always smiling when you talk and is walking you everywhere. they can't comprehend it, you're a nobody.
satoru loses it one day. you've gone to hand in your library book, it's overdue and you had forgotten about it, you needed it for when you and gojo were working together but you forgot all about it. gojo's waiting outside for you, you know the librarian likes you more so you've told him it's better if you go on your own, he knows that isn't true but as long as the librarian is kind to you he won't intervene. 'if the librarian knows what's good for her she'll let it go and not upset you.'
someone gojo vaguely recognises as a cheerleader who suguru slept with a few times spots him and goes over to him, leaning against him and pushing her breasts up against him. it disgusts him. "what are you doing here gojo? don't tell me that friend of yours is making you wait for her." she says in a sickly sweet voice and his eye twitches. he doesn't reply, she should get the idea and leave. "if i were her i'd never do that. why don't you come hang out with me? me and my friends are having a party later we'd love it if you'd come. normally i wouldn't come up to you so boldly but i think i'd be able to show you a good time, not like that girl you're always spending time with, you're so out of her league." she runs her hand along his arm but he grabs it tightly making her wince.
"don't ever fucking talk about her again," gojo responds coldly. he squeezes tighter and she yelps. he lets go of arm and pushes her away, almost in revulsion that he touched her. she stumbles and leans against the wall, looking shocked. at that time you push open the door with a relieved look on your face. satoru ignores the girl, acting like she doesn't exist, he smiles brightly at you. "everything okay?"
"yeah, she was surprisingly very understanding," you return his smile and shut the door behind you. when you shut the door you see the girl leaning against the wall staring at gojo and you wonder why. you've seen lots of gojo's fans but none of them have looked at him like that. you turn your attention back to gojo, not really wanting to engage with the girl if you can help it, you've never seen her before but you can tell that she's someone who would make your life hell if you knew each other as teenagers. "is everything okay?" you ask him, vaguely gesturing to her.
he grins and strolls towards you lifting up his sunglasses and lifting up your chin to look at him, forcing you to make eye contact and in doing so you get flustered and frazzled. gojo would sometimes put his arm over your shoulder when your walking together or grab hold of you quickly from behind unexpectedly, making you jump but this is the first time it's ever been so intimate. it's also rare for you to see gojo without his sunglasses on. "everything's fine." he grins and pats your head jokingly making you glare and pout. he snickers as he sees your reaction and lets go of your chin, slinging his arm over your shoulder.
"alright, if you say so, but for lunch i'm getting extra for that, i'm not some pet." you grumble and walk off together. satoru's mind flashes with images with you on your knees, 'i think she'd make a good pet. maybe i should buy her a collar.' he snickers again and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what's so funny?"
"nothing," he smirks. as you walk away he turns back around to look at the girl still standing there paralysed and glares hard at the girl. normally people would be swooning when they see his bright blue eyes like the clearest spring days but not right now, they'd all be wrong, his eyes aren't clear like any warm day they're frozen over and icy, with flecks of white and all that girl feels is despair and dread. he looks at her so cruelly, it makes her unable to move- frozen in place.
you haven't seen gojo for the last few days, it's the longest you've gone without seeing him since you became friends. even if you've both been busy previously gojo makes sure to have seen you, even if it's only for a minute, but you've both been too busy. gojo has had basketball practise in the day and in the night his family demands his attendance whilst discussing family affairs and you on the other hand have been busy studying, wanting to make sure you don't get any f's again. you don't realise you won't though, everything could be incoherent with each other word being spelled terribly and you'd never get an f again, gojo's made sure of that. he won't let anyone make you cry again.
you rhythmically tap your fingers, fidgeting on the table where your laptop and textbooks are, 'i want to see him.' satoru's scored another goal, this time a three point line goal, normally he goes for slam dunks but as long as he's the one scoring it doesn't really bother him. he's got a big game coming up and you're going to be there, you're going for him, you've never been to any of the games before, not having any real interest in the sport but now your friend is the star player so you're not going to miss any games. he'll score every single point his team makes so your eyes have no option but to focus on him and after the match you'll compliment him. the coach asks him something but it's all white noise to him, 'i miss her.'
you get a text on the fourth day of not seeing him and when you read the message you smile so wide your face becomes sore. 'the last few days have been so long without you! i know we normally go out for lunch but do you want to go for dinner?'
you don't hesitate responding, 'i'd love too!'
'i'll pick you up an hour before our reservations, i've brought you something.'
'reservations? did you plan tonight? and what's this about buying me something? you already pay for my lunch.'
'i've pulled some strings xoxo see you tonight.' you scowl when you read that he's blatantly ignored your comment about buying you something and if he's went out his way to pull some strings for this meal it must be more than a fast food drive-thru or the equivalent. you didn't really expect him to take you somewhere where you can eat in your car or it's acceptable to wear a three day old top and a hoodie that is a little too small but for him to go to the effort of pulling strings this must be a sophisticated place.
half an hour later you hear your phone again, multiple messages being sent one after another, five buzzes. 'shit.' 'I FORGOT' 'i forgot to send a time!' 'i'll see you at 6.' 'pretend this never happened.' you cover your face with your phone and giggle.
by six you're ready, it's taken you longer to get ready then you'd like to admit but you wanted to look pretty, it would be embarrassing to underdress. compared to gojo anything you or any 'normal' person would wear looks cheap in comparison to all his designer clothes but you spent hours making sure it would be suitable.
it's ten past six when you hear a knock on the door. opening it you see gojo in all his glory, his attractiveness on full display and his wealthiness showing, wearing an all black giorgio armani suit with a white shirt underneath, his sunglasses look different than normal, fancier, you think you can make out a ray-ban logo. he's wearing a rolex watch which is more than double your monthly rent. his hair looks shorter than the last time you saw him, he must of had a haircut in the last few days. it's obvious the way your eyes linger on him, checking him out and gojo grins as you unknowingly fuel his pride and ego.
"awe, you look so cute princess," gojo says playfully, smirking. princess- the first time he had called you that you malfunctioned, your eyes had widened and you forgot to breath. no one else has ever called you a term of endearment before and you didn't expect your friend, satoru gojo, to be saying it. you didn't ask why he called you it, why would you? it made your fingertips tingle and the inside of your chest to warm up. "can i come in?" you nod your head and move to the side to give him enough room to come in and close the door after him. "you really do look beautiful," he says gently, you don't think you've ever heard him speak so tenderly before.
"you look good too gojo, you always do but- but tonight as well," you tell him, bashfully smiling. he grins and his eyes gleam with glee at the genuine compliment. he loves when you compliment him, it feels different than the vapid ones others offer him, even if you compliment him with only a few words it means a greater deal.
behind his back he's carrying a sleek black box with a scarlet red chiffon ribbon wrapped around it in a bow containing his gift to you, your eyes narrow when he hands it too you, although your voice is soft and quiet when you say, "it's not my birthday gojo, why are you buying me things? you don't have to do that," your voice gets quieter with each word spoken.
gojo takes your hand in his and places the box in your hand. "i can buy you things because i can. i have enough money and i want to spend it on you," he tells you firmly and your stomach flutters with butterflies but you don't know why, his hand is awfully soft maybe that's why your heart is racing or maybe it's because he spoke to you firmly like there's no room for arguments. gojo cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and strokes it, your whole body melts at the action, "just open it 'kay?"
you nod your head and hum, relenting- just like you did when he began paying for your lunch. you delicately unwrap the bow, not wanting to ruin the box, and open it, you didn't know what to expect, you could of been given a hundred guesses and a hundred days to guess what he brought you and you still would have no clue. you pause as you open up the lid, your heart skips a beat and it's almost as if the air was stolen from your lungs like deflated balloons as you breathlessly say, "satoru! what's this?" inside the box is the blouse you were looking at all those weeks ago, the one you said was too expensive, the one you said would never fit.
'satoru' it's the first time you've ever called him by his given name and it sounds so angelic coming from your lips that he's forgotten to breathe, everything pausing and not moving. "do you like it?" he finally asks.
you nod your head in an almost daze, you're in awe that he'd really give you something so beautiful, that he would go out of his way to buy it. "i- i don't deserve this gojo."
he steps closer to you, "uh uh, what's with calling me gojo again?"
your eyes widen as you realise that only a second ago you called him by his given name, "oh! i'm so sorry! i was just in shock, i didn't mean to call you that gojo," you ramble.
he smoothed out the wrinkles of his forehead rubbing it with his fingers, which is currently caused because he finds your lack of awareness disconcerting. "that isn't what i meant princess, i want you to call me satoru. i want to give this to you."
"oh... okay," you're quiet and you've pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. it won't be hard to start calling him satoru, you already call him satoru in your head. after a long pause of you trying to put your thoughts all together you start speaking again, "are you sure about this satoru? this is bound to be expensive, right? it's- it's ralph lauren isn't it? isn't this too expensive too be spending on me." gojo has to hide a smirk at that, 'has she forgotten how rich i am?' "and, and i don't want you to think that i want to spend time with you because you have money or anything!" 'ah she's adorable, i could just cancel our reservations and have her on her knees the whole night to say thank you for the blouse... i couldn't do that though, not right now... if i don't see her in that blouse in the next five minutes i'll go insane.'
"of course i'm sure about this princess, i know you'd never spend time with me for clothes from ralph lauren." he resists the urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, not at this moment.
you take the blouse out of the gift box and hold it out in front of you, there's a twinkle in your doe eyes as you look at it in wonder, knowing that this is yours, whispering, "pretty," it's barely audible. "wait, i didn't think this store went up to my size? did you go to a different store? and... how do you know my size." you ask him confused.
"i have my ways," he answers and winks at you, you scoff at the wink and narrow your eyes.
"seriously satoru," you press him. 'ah she could ask me anything and i'll tell her if she keeps calling me satoru.' "actually i know you know my size from when you've seen my coats and jumpers lying around but-" 'oh yeah... that's totally how i know...' "- how did you get it in my size?"
"annoyingly they don't actually make that particular blouse in your size... how ridiculous is that, sadly i don't have enough money and connections to make them ruined and bankrupt." he says nonchalantly, casually waving his arm around. you bark out a laugh thinking that he was joking. he wasn't. if even one article of clothing isn't made in your size it should only be fair for the brand to lose all their money and reputation, no matter what the brand is.
"hold up how do i have this if it doesn't come in my size?" you cock your head to the side quizzically and for the second time gojo thinks about buying you a collar, maybe with a matching lead...
he grins and flicks his eyes back and forth between your face and the blouse you're holding up. "obviously i got it custom made,"
"that's- that's obvious?!" you splutter and he laughs.
"obviously." he reiterates, enjoying your reaction- dumbstruck and lips parted in near disbelief.
"it'll take us thirty minutes to get to the restaurant princess and our reservations in about forty minutes." he lets you know and you snap out of your stupor.
"i'll just get my bag."
"hang on!" satoru rushes out before you can leave to get your bag. "you look beautiful right now princess but don't you want to see how that blouse looks on you?" you shift your weight from side to side, heat rising to your cheeks. 'do i really have time to get changed? i spent so long choosing this outfit too.' before you can say something gojo stops you, not wanting to give you an opportunity to say no or think to hard about it. he wants you to do it, you don't have to have an opinion on the matter, leave that him. sometimes you can't be trusted when it comes to these things. "come on princess, i'm the one who brought you it. just wear it, please. i want to make sure it fits properly."
you yield, "okay let me go get changed."
satoru smirks, 'good girl.'
as you come back out of the bedroom adrenaline bursts through his veins. you twirl around, pausing when you circle back round to gojo and picking up the hem of your skirt playfully with one hand and doing a half curtsy, it's such a happy coincidence that the blouse pairs so well with the skirt you're already wearing, "how do i look?" 'beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal.'
"perfect," he replies dreamily and you giggle, thinking he isn't being serious and is exaggerating.
"i'm serious satoru," you tell him, it was meant to sound firm and like you won't back down until you get an answer but it just turned out sounding a little whiny.
gojo smirks and leisurely saunters to you, stopping when coming up close in front of you, "you look truly beautiful sweetheart." 'sweetheart' he's never called you that before. you don't know if your heart can keep taking it all. satoru's your friend, your close friend, but at times like this it's hard to remember that.
you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling- admittedly unsuccessfully. the corners of your mouth still quirk up and your round cheeks become more predominate. you fight the desire to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, instead opting to twiddle your fingers. "sh-should we get going?"
satoru grins at you, "sure thing."
the whole drive you're both stealing looks at each other when you can get away with it while making small talk and satoru's not letting you know where you're going saying that it's a surprise. whenever there's a red light gojo takes his time to admire you and as you step outside into the night you're astonished at the restaurant in front of you. satoru's handing his car keys to a valet to park his car but you're distracted from that, finally knowing where you're eating tonight. you know this place, well you know of this place. never in a million years would you have thought you'd be dining here, it's so lavish that the cutlery is more expensive than buying a house that's already furnished. "are you okay princess?" you snap out of your daze and nod your head. "alright then, let's go inside."
you follow closely behind gojo, nervous as you enter, you don't think you've ever felt more out of place. satoru doesn't even give his name, the man at the desk recognises him straight away, "ah mr. gojo if you'd follow me." the man leads you upstairs and you hear him asking satoru questions but all that's going through your mind is 'please don't trip, please don't trip.' you're quite accident prone and falling down these stairs would be too much to handle. he takes you all the way to the fourth floor and near the window where you can see the city lights shining below. "here you are."
when the man leaves satoru pulls out a chair for you and you're startled by the gesture. you take your seat and he takes his. "you're more gentlemanly then i expected you to be satoru, pulling out my chair for me," you pause for a second mulling your thoughts over before adding, "or is that normal etiquette?"
"i'm very chivalrous, i'll have you know," he replies pouting and you raise an eyebrow at how fake his answer sounded. he throws his hands up with a smirk, "well, i'm not always chivalrous but if a pretty lady is in front of me than i can become very courteous." you chuckle, trying not to hone in the pretty part for your own sanity.
you glance at the table and worry because satoru might know proper etiquette but you don't. you know the general rules and ideas but why are there two knives and forks next to your plate and a spoon as well? why are there two glasses, a wine one and a normal one? why does the napkin look fancy? does that mean it's just for decoration, what if you need it? you're worried that you'll leave smudges in places where there shouldn't be and what if the table cloth rips? maybe this was a mistake...
"hey," satoru says softly catching your attention, when you look back up at him you see his smirk has turned into a frown and you don't think you've seen that expression on his face before, it doesn't fit right. he's taken off his sunglasses and placed them down, hanging them out of his suit pocket. his striking baby blue eyes glinting when the chandelier droplets move in the light. his snowy white hair looking soft and subdued under the glow of the light and the wavering flame of the candle. "sweetheart, whatever you're thinking right now isn't true."
"how did y-"
he cuts you off before you can finish asking. "because i know you and i know that look on your face, that overthinking look, i can see all those unnecessary cogs turning in your brain."
"i just..." you look away from him, not wanting to look into his eyes any longer knowing you'll crumble but gojo's not allowing that. with how long his arms are it's not difficult reaching over the table to you, placing his fingers below your chin and tilting your head around to look at him.
"just what? sweetheart." satoru presses you.
bunching up your skirt into tight fists you take a shaky breath and try again, "i'm worried i don't belong here. this is a really lovely place satoru and i just... what if i embarrass you? i'm not like you, i don't know when to do certain things or say specific things, i don't know why the table is placed like it is or any of it," after the words stop spewing out your mouth you take another breath, this time not shaky and deep. you look relieved to get it out.
'silly girl.' "do you really think i'd get embarrassed because of you sweetheart? nothing you could do would make me embarrassed. i'm lucky that you're with me right now. i don't care if you don't know all the rules and you shouldn't either, all that matters is that we're here together and we get to finally see each other after some hectic few days," gojo tells you earnestly, his body close to the edge of the table, leaning forward further near you, his voice low and intimate, like what he's saying is a complete secret for your ears only. the days were hectic and finally you're getting to see each other. those tedious meetings with his family and hours of basketball that seemed to stretch on and on but finally- you're together again.
your shoulders sag, you weren't even aware that your plush figure had tensed up in the first place. when satoru saw how you relaxed your posture he picks up one of the menus, "everything okay now?" he asks you, his eyes soft as they gaze at you.
"yeah, i think so." you lick your lips, wetting them after getting dry, the intense spike of emotions throwing your body threw a little bit of a loop, dry lips, moist eyes, with shaky fingers.
gojo grins and leans back on his chair, seeming more casual than a minute ago and hands you a menu. "what are you thinking about getting? i might go for the lobster."
you're browsing the menu but when you hear him you put it down momentarily to reply, "oh please, like you care about the lobster, you just want dessert," you say grinning wide.
gojo gasps and places his hands on his chest in mock offence. "dessert? i think you mean desserts." you laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. "i want you to enjoy this meal just as much as i'm planning to, that's why i intend to get the lobster, i don't want you to feel like you have to rush while eating just because i want dessert and i don't want you to even think about a silly thing like money." 'so he's ordering one of the biggest and expensive dishes? ...that does sound like satoru actually.' although you would be none the wiser about the prices of these meals, it's one of those high-end restaurants that doesn't have the prices on the menu, satoru must have been here often enough to know how much the lobster costs compared to other dishes.
"i don't know what to do about drinks, i hear they've got a fine collection of wines, maybe we should order a couple bottles? do you like wine?" he already knows the answer to that but you don't know that. "they've also got a wide selection of spirits and non-alcoholic drinks too, i believe."
you both order what you want, making idle conversation while waiting.
by the time your food arrives satoru has tried to convince you that you should've ordered a bigger meal, you're content with your choice in the end though and it's not the most surprising that when your food does arrive there's also a side dish for you to which you didn't order.
"i didn't order this satoru," you raise an eyebrow.
gojo smirks, "i know you didn't, but i did. i didn't want you to be hungry and we haven't had lunch together in days have you been eating properly?"
"are you suggesting that because i'm eating food in my price bracket instead of yours that it's not good enough? the food you pay for is definitely better but poor people food taste good too."
he chuckles and smiles at you fondly before replying, "that's not what i'm saying and you know i'm not. I am however asking have you been eating three meals a day?" you wince. "i thought not."
"i've been busy with studies, i didn't have time to eat three meals a day every single day," you try to justify.
"that's exactly what i mean. i won't take any excuses though, you shouldn't have skipped any meals." satoru lightly scowls you but don't take it too seriously, you should have though. 'silly girl, she really can't look after herself properly. it's a good thing i'm here to keep an eye on her. she just can't be trusted on her own.'
you pout at his reasoning, it's not often that gojo reprimands you or anyone you've seen for that matter. knowing that you don't have a leg to stand on you keep quiet.
when you eat the first bite of your food you hum blissfully, so close to being a moan and it's music to satoru's ears, 'god she's adorable.' he doesn't even realise that he isn't eating until you noticed that he's unmoving. "satoru are you okay? you're not eating."
"i'm fine sweetheart just thinking about something," he responds with a smile.
"okay- if you're sure but make sure you eat soon or it'll get cold."
"yes ma'am," satoru gives you a cheeky smile and picks up his fork.
your face heats up in embarrassment and you lose any composure that you previously had. you avert you eyes and focus on the tablecloth, suddenly finding it very interesting, focusing on the material. you never knew being called something would make you feel so strange, it was the complete opposite to gojo calling you princess or sweetheart.
even though satoru picked up his fork and began eating he didn't take his eyes off you at the corner of his eye, he wanted to see your reaction to that name. he wanted to test how docile you are, his theory that you are submissive and it seems he was right, although even if he wasn't and his theory was proven wrong he'd just mold you into what he wants. 'of course she's so perfect that i don't need to change her, she's such a good girl.'
quickly ma'am leaves your head with the more delicious food you have but you can't help some negative thoughts enter your mind. everything starts to feel too good to be true, the twinkling lights and the flickering of the candle on the table, the scenery and the ambience, the delectable food and the amazing beverages, the dream company with someone who you care so very much about, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else and... it just all feels too good to be true.
'how many girls does gojo come here with? they knew who he was without giving his name. i know i'm not his girlfriend. it's not like i'm jealous it's just- i want this so bad to be special. am i one in a long line?' you have to ask, you have to know. if you're not special you need to know.
"satoru-" you start by getting his attention.
he looks up at you and sees the pensive look on your face, he puts his cutlery down and ceases eating, directing all his attention to you, "yes princess?"
"can i ask you something?" you ask, hesitant and more meekly now you have his attention.
"of course you can princess," he smiles and waits for you to ask whatever it is. he truly doesn't know what it could be right now.
"am i special? i mean- wait- not special. i mean do you take lots of girls here? they seemed to know your name already so do you? i know we're friends so it wouldn't be the same as you taking other girls here but do you take lots of girls here?"
he doesn't even try to stop the smirk that creeps onto his face, you're jealous and what's even better do you even know that you're jealous. satoru can barely contain his excitement.
not once have you brought up other girls, not once. you've never asked if it's true that he doesn't date anyone for longer than a month or that he's gone through half the school. you've never asked about the crude gossip about how big his dick is and how he's the best anyone has ever had even though he knows you've definitely heard those rumours. but right now? right now your words hint of jealously and insecurity.
satoru tells the truth as he replies simply "i haven't brought any girls here." gojo dangles the small piece of information in front of you, it isn't a question of if you'll take it and ask further questions he knows you will but he wants to hear you ask for more, it thrills him.
"you-you dont?" you ask for more explanation.
he grins, "nope," he pops the 'p'. "i go here with my family and on occasion suguru but only sometimes with suguru because it can be kind of intimate with two people," he explains and you giggle at the thought of the two of them sitting across from each other here. he carries on his explanation, "i would never go here with other girls, of course you're special," he tells you honestly and your lips part, hanging onto every word spoken.
'i'm special.' you press your lips together but the corners of your mouth still manage to lift up into a small smile. your brain then fully catches up with everything he said and your heart beats erratically, just now satoru said a dinner here between two people is intimate, he didn't word it in that exact way but if a dinner for two with suguru is intimate, a dinner for two with you might be considered intimate too. overall you're pleased with the answer you were given, gojo thinks your special and he doesn't take other girls here.
you eat the rest of your dinner without incident, enjoying every single mouthful and letting gojo know that it's tasty, thanking him. when you order dessert it's no surprise that satoru goes a bit overboard nearly buying the whole dessert menu, not that you would ever complain about a thing like that, the more time you've spent with gojo the more of a sweet tooth you've become yourself.
satoru doesn't attempt to hide the bill, he enjoys the look on your face when you see the amount in the corner of your eye. for him the money is trivial sum but to you it's shockingly high. he gets a power trip when he sees your eyes widen at the money.
"do you want to come back to mine?" satoru asks you while you leave the restaurant and you agree not thinking anything of it. he's been to yours before but you've never been to his. you don't think there's anything behind his question, you don't even consider he's suggesting something and gojo's well aware that you don't realise.
you don't speak much on your way back, you're leaning against the window and watching the city lights, it's starting to drizzle and you feel at ease in your current company, your eyes fluttering, slightly drowsily, as you hear the rain. gojo taps his fingers on the steering wheel and smiles thinking about how adorable you look right now.
the journey back to satoru's could've taken ten minutes to an hour for all you know as your mind wanders and your eyelids get heavy. when you arrive and he parks up and you get out of the car, you shiver a bit as the cold air hits you, giving you a shock and getting rid of any lingering tiredness and satoru walks around the car to be next to you. he pouts as he bends down to look at you, his sunglasses still in his jacket pocket, "pretty ladies aren't just supposed to have their chair pulled out for them, they're meant to have doors open for them too."
you giggle and bump against him, "flattery will get you nowhere mister." it does. luckily you'll be able to blame your flushed face due to the bitterly cold if gojo questions you on it.
"let's get inside sweetheart, it's cold." 'sweetheart' something else you can luckily blame on the weather. you're not expecting satoru to randomly touch your face though so you think you're going to be okay.
you follow him inside and the size of his place is a large as you thought it would be, you're learning to expect everything he owns is extravagant. the interior however is something you take note of, you've only entered one room but it seems barren. the walls are drab, painted slate grey and off white with only the bare necessaries of furniture and nothing more. devoid of any human presence. you're not even sure if he's lived here long and when he looks at you he can see those unnecessary cogs turning in your head again. "is something on your mind princess?"
"um-" you don't really know if you should bring it up but your curiosity gets the better of you. "have you lived here long?"
"a couple of years," satoru leans against the wall and smirks.
"i just- there's not a lot of stuff in here, it looks like you still have unpacking to do."
he pushes himself off the wall and goes over to you, "do you think i should get more stuff? like cushions for the the sofa and posters on the wall?" you feel gojo's breath against your skin as he leans down to talk in your ear quietly, it's so intimate, your mind draws a blank finding it hard to think with him so close to you. satoru is playful and he's teasing and you've heard rumours that he's a flirt but he's never been this close to you before, you've never been able to smell his cologne and been this close to feel his warm breath against your neck. "maybe we should go shopping together and you could help me pick out some stuff?" you're holding your breath, not being able to breathe anymore. "or maybe it would be better if you just stayed here and brought your stuff along? you do always complain about your rent being high."
you take a sharp intake of air and move a step away from him so you can look back at him in the eye. mentally shaking your head to forgot about his remark. 'did gojo just say about me being his roommate? i'd get to see him everyday... wait... i'd have to hear him all the time when he brings home girls and does he even clean after himself properly?'
"did you have too much to drink tonight satoru? you know you shouldn't drink and drive," you reply with light tone, reminding yourself not to think too hard about the situation, almost being successful in your mission.
satoru just watches you and smirks as he sees you try to ignore his comment. "anyway i don't think you need a roommate." 'roommate? yeah i don't need one of those...'
"and for all i know you might steal my food from the fridge and not wash up the dishes. plus i always forget my towel when i shower." you say the last sentence flippantly, but satoru's mind fills with thoughts of you... 'walking out of the shower into the living room with a small towel on, barely covering your body, body damp with water dripping down your neck, onto your shoulders down to the valley of your breasts...' he's getting hard just imagining it.
"are you okay satoru? you're a bit red." you question and the topic of conversation changes.
satoru moves back away from you, "i'm okay princess, probably thirsty. do you want a drink?" he's glad of this change, he'd like to tease you more but there'd be a real chance you'd see his erection, he could probably tease you about it if you'd notice it but he doesn't think you're ready yet. he wants to make sure you're relaxed and comfortable. you've got a long night ahead of you.
"sure."
following him into the kitchen you take a seat on one of the kitchen counter stools. "what would you like to drink?"
not wanting to ask for something he might not have or cause a fuss you respond with, "whatever you're having is good with me."
'she's so predictable.' he pours both of you your favourite drink, he knows all your preferences, of course he's stocked up on everything you like. he hands it to you and you smile wide, "this is like my all time favourite drink, i didn't know you liked it too."
in situations like this he switches his answers up from time to time not wanting you to get suspicious. "do you like these too? the amount i get through weekly is crazy." he makes sure to separate things into two categories, things you've told him and things you haven't but he knows anyway. he wouldn't want to mention in conversation about how he remembers that you like these drinks when you've never told so.
satoru likes when he tells you things that subtly suggest, 'look how much we have in common. we like all the same music and drinks!'
he prefers when he tells you he remembers something you told him, you quietly replying to him once about how much it means to you because "no one has ever cared about me to remember something so mundane about me." he swears that he'll remember everything about you, he swore he'd never forget a single thing.
gojo takes his place next to you, sitting on the stool and purposely brushing his hand against your rib, under your breast, and he gets pleasure from seeing you straighten up your back.
you both enjoy your drinks and kick your legs in the air. "i feel bad because you've been driving me around all night. when i go i'll get an uber or cab or something."
gojo frowns, "are you going now?"
"n-no! unless you want me to?" you don't want to overstay your welcome and you have a feeling that if gojo wanted you to go he'd let you know and you want to look around the other rooms if you have a chance, perhaps not his bedroom for privacy reasons but you want to see if his other rooms have plain decoration and if the bathroom has any noteworthy products in, you have always wanted to know how his skin looks so good all the time.
"i'm definitely not telling you to leave princess... in fact why don't you stay the night? you can stay in the spare room. no pressure though. you don't have to but there might not be anywhere you can get a lift because of how late it is and how it's the other side of town adding that all onto it's now pouring down. i'd offer to take you back myself but i'm not a huge fan of driving in the dark, especially if the roads are slippy 'cause to the rain. it's your choice. i'm sure you'll get someone to take you eventually but it might be less effort to stay here and leave tomorrow?"
he knows you don't want to wait forever getting home, he knows you want to take him up on his offer but something is stopping you, he doesn't know what is it for a moment until he figures it. "it's absolutely no bother, i don't mind and i've got clothes that you can wear, i think i wore them to lounge about in on tuesday so i haven't had time to wash them yet but i don't think that's a huge problem. i wear them a lot but they're too big on me, you should fit in them."
that small comment might have upset you more if it came from someone else but you don't think gojo meant it maliciously, you think it came from a good place, however you couldn't help thinking about it, the words 'they're too big on me, you should fit in them' ring around your head, about how you should fit in them. you know that satoru didn't mean anything by that but you've never worn someone else's clothes before so it gives you a bit of anxiety and satoru can see that.
gojo speaks again in an attempt to stop you from other thinking. "if you did want to go i'll give you the money to get a cab but if not you can stay, it's no problem, in fact i would enjoy it." your eyes snap up to look at him and you see a soft smile adorning his face. "we could watch that new film you were telling me about and i don't mean to brag but my shower is amazing, nothing compares, even five star hotels." you crack a smile but your mind still lingers on the clothes. satru can see that still not fully convinced and there's something stopping you, "is this about the clothes?" you shift your eyes away nervously not wanting to admit how you clung to a few words. gojo stops himself from sighing in exasperation. "if you'd feel more comfortable keeping the blouse and skirt on you can, you do look good in them but you shouldn't overthink about wearing my clothes. i know i said they're not clean but i've only worn them once since they've been washed it's not like they're diseased." you giggle and satoru gets less exasperated after hearing you laugh.
"they'll fit you if that's what you're worried about and honestly even if they are a little tight you'd still look good in my shirt, it would just hang onto your hips a bit." your mouth parts, the previous throwaway remark being swiped away like smoke by his hand, instead being replaced by insurance that it will fit and if by the off chance it doesn't then it's not the end of the world. he hopes it doesn't fit.
it quells your mind and you agree to stay. "thank you satoru, i'd appreciate staying, over the hassle of getting home."
he grins at your answer, hands itching to take off your blouse. "do you want a shower now so we can watch that film?"
"sounds good." you follow him into the bathroom and it looks like the living room, crystal clean, newly moved into, the only difference is his electric toothbrush on the side and moisturiser. gojo doesn't leave when he shows you into the room, he doesn't leave when he makes a quick explanation about how the shower works, in fact he didn't tell you at all. instead of telling you he turns the shower on, adjusting the handle to change the temperature to the one you prefer and pressing a button next to the handle, keeping his finger on it for a few seconds before removing it, changing the water pressure. "here you go princess," he grins and turns back to you. you think to yourself about how you could of figured out how to work the shower but you don't vocalise it, you've been in enough showers to know how they work but satoru's one is probably different if he did it himself.
"oh, the shower wash and shampoo is there, i don't know if you want to wash your hair but it's there if you need it. you'll have to use my one." he then leaves, before placing a towel on the sink for you to grab when you get out. he owns all the soaps and scents you use but you can't use them, he doesn't want to share. if he gave you them you'd be suspicious and there would be less for him to use when he misses your smell, groaning in the shower after he gets home from basketball his hands massaging your shampoo into his scalp, one hand in his hair the other fisting his cock. he'll buy you new perfumes and soaps for the holidays, he would never change any of your signature scents but you deserve more expensive products in his eyes.
a part of you still can't help but think about the clothes but when you step into the shower your eyes close and body relaxes, somehow it's the perfect way you like your showers. all of it melts away and as you pick up gojo's shower wash your body heats up inside. you're going to use the same soap as gojo uses and once you recognise how you reacted you shake your head to get away from all those thoughts. everybody at your university would likely have the same reaction as you but you're not just anyone, satoru is your dear friend and he deserves more respect than you just gave him. you don't spend long showering, wanting to not use his soap for a long period and you end up not washing your hair.
you dry yourself but panic as you can't find clothes anywhere, did satoru forget? maybe the plan was for you to put your clothes back on until he's gave you them. opening the door ajar you peek outside, you're planning on seeing if you can hear satoru, asking him about the clothes but before you can you see a shirt on the floor next to the door. picking it up, you close the door quickly and breathe deeply, glad that you noticed the shirt before calling out to gojo.
when you start to slip into the shirt you feel a repeat of the shower, it smells so much like him. you didn't realise when you agreed to this you'd have to be concerned about this but you are and it's making you feel guilty. like you're no better than those girls who throw themselves at him, only based on appearances alone. you put it on as quickly as you can and try to ignore the smell but the entire room is filled with it. it smells different to the soap, it smells more like him, 'his natural scent?' you ponder. it effects you differently than it would his fans though, they'd be filled with thoughts that are less than appropriate, like being pushed into his pillow while he's taking them from behind or not wasting time with getting completely nude but to you they're innocent, the smell is comforting like when he surprises you by suddenly grabbing you from behind or crowding your space as you worked on projects together. it's not the smell of satoru gojo, famous 'womaniser', 'manwhore', 'heartbreaker', with a reputation that would make a nymphomaniac blush, it's the smell of satoru gojo- your gojo. and annoyingly your gojo, your friend, smells really good.
satoru was right about the shirt. because of how tall he is it reached down to your thigh, you were slightly worried about accidentally flashing him but it was long enough not to worry too much about it. he was also right about how it clung to you. even though it clung to you it didn't make you feel uncomfortable, the fabric stretched a tad around your hips and chest but it didn't make you feel uneasy, you doubt satoru would even notice. he, of course, does. and takes great pleasure in it.
you fold up the towel and leave it in the laundry basket. exiting the room you hear satoru and go to him. he hears you near him entering the room and looks up from the sofa, "you okay?"
you smile sweetly and nod your head, "i'm okay, it was a good shower."
he returns your smile, "i'm glad."
satoru doesn't hide his staring as you move to the sofa to sit down next to him. you're so cute and you're so hot all he can do is stare and he's so thankful that you agreed to come to his and stay. he's never let anyone wear his clothes before, it's a boundary that he doesn't cross. his previous relationships weren't allowed to wear his clothes, if it was cold outside and someone didn't bring a coat he wouldn't give them his, he never cared about them that much to do things like that but when you walk in wearing his clothes his heart jumps with joy. he never thought about how much he'd love seeing you wear his shirt, it's not just a shirt it's a statement, you're his, he owns you. it barely covers your thighs and he knows if he gets you to move and bend down, even if only slightly, everything will be on display. his shirt is clinging to your curves and he's practically salivating as your hips look so grabbable.
you're none the wiser of this and when he turns on the film you previously spoken about he was paying more attention to you than the television, every so often shuffling a little bit closer to you. he doesn't wait long, it's been about twenty minutes through the film before he puts his arm around you, he slings his arm around your shoulder when you walk together sometimes so it's not the first time this has happened. this is regular behaviour in your eyes.
forgetting his arm is even around you you become invested in what you're watching, you were right to mention it to gojo, it's exceeded your expectations. you have no reaction to satoru taking his arm off your shoulder and instead placing it on your plush thigh. he has more of a reaction that you do, biting his lip to stop any noises that could come out because you would likely notice if he groaned. after a couple of minutes of his hands being still he starts moving, making small patterns on your skin and stroking you. his hand gets higher, reaching the hem of his shirt before stopping and leaving his hand there.
as the film ends you become more aware of where gojo's hand is resting but you choose not to say anything. you're flustered but you think he's put his hand there absentmindedly while watching the film so you keep quiet.
"did you enjoy the film princess?"
you smile brightly at him and respond, "i did! did you?"
satoru starts making patterns on your skin lightly again. tapping his finger on his chin with his other hand like he's thinking and making a noise, "hmmm i did enjoy it although i was distracted through most of it."
that catches your attention wondering what it was that he was focused on instead. "oh, what was it?"
he smirks, "it's hard to pay attention to anything other than how pretty you look right now."
satoru had called you a pretty lady earlier tonight but this feels more personal, your brain refusing to work and it's exhilarating for him to see it happen.
he cups your cheek in his hand so you're making direct eye contact with each other, he doesn't want to look away from him. "do you want this sweetheart?"
your heart is pounding in your chest like a hummingbirds wings and you worry that satoru can hear it, swallowing before replying, "w-what do you mean?"
he leans closer to you and feel like your body is buzzing, tiny zaps of electricity shooting through your veins at his proximity to you, "do you want me?"
"i-i," you're stuttering over your words and nothing makes sense. do you want him? want him to do what?
"sweetheart do you want me?" he reiterates putting more emphasis on the 'want' and slivering his hand up further along your thigh, inching under your, his, shirt. you wait with bated breath, wondering if he'll go further, wondering if he'll say more.
"satoru are you... are you coming onto me?" you're quiet when you ask, you're unsure, you worry that you're wrong and gojo can't help but laugh.
"obviously i'm coming onto you. i thought that was pretty clear."
"you are?" you're still quiet.
"yeah," he smirks at you however your eyes drift away from him feeling shy but gojo's not having that, he pats your cheek before saying, "look at me princess." you do what he says and make eye contact with him again, "there she is, "he smiles at you and kisses your nose making your whole body heat up, your lips part open in shock and he smirks.
"i'm going to ask again, do you want this?" lowering his voice he continues speaking, "because i want this."
'he wants this. he wants me... but do i want him? everyone wants him. do i want him? if we do this it might never be the same again, we might stop being friends... satoru is really attractive, he's hot, he can get anyone he wants but will this mess everything up... i don't know.'
he can see those unnecessary cogs again, how silly, how useless.
he doesn't wait for you to answer, he's given you time and instead of answering you're thinking, overthinking, not being a good girl at all. instead of waiting any longer he closes the space between you two and slots his mouth against yours, licking your lips in a silent request to open your mouth, you oblige his request without any more thought and just simply do what feels right, do what feels good, and kissing satoru feelings good.
his lips are soft, probably softer than yours but you can't tell with them against each other. imaging the kiss you'd think gojo would kiss someone slowly, languidly. you imagine he wouldn't put a lot of effort or passion in the kiss but it would still be the best kiss anyone has ever had. you never thought he'd be a passionate kisser. you know from rumours that his relationships don't last long, it seems to you that he's never been invested in any of them so what's the point in kissing someone like you can't get enough of them when he's going to move on to the next person in a week, so what's the point of kissing passionately but right now that theory is blown out the window. his movement is rushed, it's hungry, it's unexpected. you didn't think he'd be so greedy. his skilled tongue is against yours and he's completely dominating the kiss. satoru's not even stopping for air and he's not letting you either, he's been waiting for this for so long now and a stupid reason like needing to breathe isn't going to stop him.
satoru's leaving wet kisses down your jaw and pulse point anywhere that's visible he's kissing. leaving little nips in his wake and trying to find a good space for him to start leaving marks and hickeys so everyone will know you're his.
the hand that was holding onto your thigh squeezes gently and a shiver runs down his spine because you feel so soft. he pushes you down on the sofa and he's above you looking down, knocking your thighs open and kneeling between them. he's swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight. you get nervous when you look at him, the way he looks at you tenderly with those vibrant blue eyes, that unbeknownst to you hold so much love for you.
you're gasping at every new sensation gojo's giving you, never having felt like this before as his continues his path up your thigh moving the shirt up along with it and now he's finally touching your plush body he thinks he may be in heaven with a gorgeous goddess with him and the more he moves the shirt up the more he thinks so. both of his hands moving to your hips and pressing his fingers into your skin watching them spill over and it's making him dizzy. never has he felt anyone with your body before and it's driving him crazy. he wants more, he needs more.
satoru brushes his knuckles over your underwear making you whine and he smirks, "feel good princess?"
"uh huh," you reply nodding your head up and down rapidly, head fuzzy and wanting more, wanting him.
"yeah?" he asks smugly. " ' course you do." he taps your hips just above the line of your underwear, "lift up for me sweetheart." you move up so he can pull down your underwear and he pockets them in his jeans saving them for later. he doesn't waste anytime as he unzips his jeans and takes them off, pulling his shirt off after, the only reason of the shirt being off is that he wants you to see how hot he looks and to check him out, he knows he looks good and he wants you to know it too.
he presses two fingers into you and you moan. "i'm going to prepare you sweetheart." it wasn't a question but you nod your head anyway. his slender fingers are longer than yours, reaching placing you can't, he's leisurely taking his time, watching as you squirm, eyes starting to glaze over.
only after four minutes and he's had enough of this leisurely pace fingering though, he just has to have his dick inside you now. he would promise to go slow but he knows he can't promise that. you don't see his dick before he goes into you, if you did you'd say something but instead you feel it. more girth than most and nine inches long thus as he starts to thrust into you you let out a moan that soon fades into a silent scream.
with each inch you feel that it must be it but then there's more, he knows he should've spent more time getting you ready for him but the idea of waiting even a minute longer was torture.
at the same time of being fully inside you, you wince, and satoru places a chaste kiss on your lips. there's a fleeting thought as you wince about how you think his cock has broken you, so far he's in your guts. he keeps his hold on you as he thrusts shallowly a few times testing the waters and playfully pinching your nipple to see your reaction.
you try to speak but the words get caught in your throat and it doesn't take long for gojo to speed up, not even a minute and he's already thrusting hard and fast into you, a creamy white ring already forming at the base of his cock. his pace doesn't falter, in fact it gets more rough as satoru sees your face. it's hard for you to even think, you've never been this full before, you're eyes are glazed over and you've got your mouth open drooling a bit, he thinks you look so adorably dumb. "look at you princess you look so dumb right now, so stupid. you don't even have one thought in your head do you? it's so fucking hot. not thinking or worrying, all that matters is this, you don't need to think i'll do it for you."
satoru lifts up one of your thighs and puts it on his shoulder, at the new position it feels like he's reaching even deeper. you whine so loud that people walking outside would hear. "my cock's making you lose braincells huh?" he grins, tapping your cheek gently to get your attention. you look up at him in a daze and he sniggers. "not a thought behind those eyes."
at the new angle you try to grab hold of his arm but struggle to focus losing grip straight away, squealing, "ah it feels s' good 'toru!"
satoru is pleased that you've spoken something, that you've been able to form an legible sentence, he's even more pleased at how good you sound squealing, knowing that he's the one who's made you sound like that. however more than all of that he's overjoyed that you called him 'toru' it sounds so perfect from your mouth.
"i know, i know, you're so good for me princess, such a good girl." he keeps slamming into you at a brutal pace and he wants you to come undone around him soon before he cums. "hear that princess, your pussy is so wet and sticky for me. she knows what she wants huh," he grins and starts pinching your nipples, watching as your eyes roll back.
he's fucking you so rough that your body is moving up and down on the sofa, jiggling with each thrusts, and as he watches your body bounce he gets closer and closer. he normally lasts so much longer but he can't help it with you, it's impossible for him to keep his regular time when your warm wet walls are wrapping around his cock, when he's inside you.
satoru can't wait any longer removing his hand from your nipple and bringing it to your clit, rubbing harshly as you shriek from the sudden extra stimulation, as you get tighter around him he sucks his teeth so close to cumming, "are you going to cum for me sweetheart?"
you don't say anything, you don't have time to answer him because instead the coil in the stomach that has been winding up for the last half an hour snaps, with the added help of gojo touching your clit, you arch your back, and your eyesight goes fuzzy seeing white dots. you've never had such an intense orgasm before, it drowned out noise and made everything hard to hear, you didn't even know cumming could do that. everyone was right about sex with satoru.
feeling you spasm around him was even for him to finish as well, a few more thrusts into you and he lost it cumming too. if he was a better man he would've pulled out but satoru knew that he would never pull out when it comes to you. he's seen birth control in your bathroom before and when he saw it he frowned, he hopes that you missed it today. either way he's making sure to bury himself in you as deep as he can get hoping that even if you did take birth control today it won't be good enough to stop his intention- his deep desire to breed you. thoughts racing through his head, 'silly girls don't need to go to university they should just stay at home. i've got more than enough money to look after her. she'd look so good, her body even softer than it already is. she'd make such a good mama.' as he comes his body goes taut and he groans loudly saying your name and stilling.
you're both catching your breathe, not speaking for a minute, recovering for the most mindblowing sex both of you have ever had.
he wants to stay where he is but he knows he can't. when he moves you whimper, feeling empty all of a sudden, and it makes his ego rise, "sorry princess, i'm going to get you a towel okay." satoru kisses your forehead before rising and getting a towel from the bathroom, coming back and kneeling, swiping the towel gently over your inner thighs and pussy. kissing your hip and looking back at you, "are you okay?"
you're breathless as you reply, "yeah."
satoru smirks, "that's good."
you cover your face with your hands, timid with the way gojo's focused on you. putting the towel down he holds onto your hands and removes them from your face so he can see you again, smiling at you sweetly and kissing your forehead again.
"satoru what's going to happen now?" you're almost silent, if he wasn't so laser focused on every movement and thing you do he might not have heard.
"we could watch another film but it's getting late."
"no... i mean with us..."
satoru furrows his eyebrows, not understanding the question. "us?"
"yeah i-i mean are we s-still friends?"
"friends?" he looks at you like you've grown an extra head and your stomach sinks, if you knew this would've been the outcome you would've done something differently.
you don't want to lose gojo, you really don't want to lose gojo. you don't want to cry in front of him, you don't want it to get misconstrued and him to think that you're trying to manipulate him or change his mind but the idea of not having satoru in your life is heartbreaking. wait... heartbreaking? however the tears still come and the words get lodged in your throat. you manage to get some words out but it's barely audible with how erratic your breathing is becoming and how you keep swallowing every five seconds. "can i do anything to make us be friends again? i don't want to lose you." you're sniffling and you know you sound needy and probably desperate too but that's not your main focus right now.
"lose me?" he squints and gently wipes the tears from your face. "why would you lose me?" he cups you cheek, "princess how do you feel about me?"
your mouth parts open, you're glad that he's suggesting that you're not going to lose him but that's completely overshadowed with the question he's asked. you stay silent, not moving a muscle, how do you feel about him?
'satoru's my friend, my best friend! so... i feel that he's my friend? did i feel this way about my other friends? i lost my other friends and it was awful, i hated it but if i lost satoru... i think it would be worse than awful. maybe soul crushing is accurate... heartbreaking sounds more accurate. can someone be heartbroken about a friend? can i?'
you can't say anything, you don't know what to say, all your thoughts are muddled and you feel lost. gojo's still cupping your cheek, now stroking it with his thumb. "alright then princess, let me tell you." you don't know how he's going to tell you, you don't even understand yourself. "you don't see me as a friend anymore." he says simply and your eyes widen, and he holds onto your elbow with no force with his other hand to stop you if you try to draw away.
"do you know why i know that princess?" satoru asks you, his voice tethered, borderlining on husky. unsure you shake your head. "because friends don't act like you do. they don't get jealous about the thought of me taking girls out to restaurants, they don't check me out when they think i'm not looking. friends don't make a photo of us together as their lockscreen and wallpaper-"
at that you interrupt him, "you have me on your lockscreen too!" but he puts his fingers to your lips to gesture for you to keep quiet.
"not finished yet sweetheart. friends don't send each other good morning texts as soon as they wake up and they don't memorise my order at cafés we go to. friends don't stare at my lips and compliment my eyes all the time. friends don't look at me longingly. friends don't go to romantic restaurants alone together."
he pauses watching with rapt attention as you look down at your lap, he doesn't make you look up at him this time and waits for your response. when you decide to look back at him you calm your breathing as much as you can, "b-but you do those things too satoru..."
satoru grins brightly, "yeah i do, sooo... that would mean what?" he presses you to answer him.
"do you- do you- am i more than a friend to you satoru?"
"bingo!"
you feel like you're dreaming, nothing feels real. you could never of guessed that gojo feels that way or that you're his type. "is that why we had sex?"
satoru chuckles, not answering but instead replying, "you're so cute!" it makes your face heat up. "do you want me to tell you a secret?" you're nervous and dubious but you nod your head softly. gojo moves even closer than you, "you're more than just my friend princess," he leans closer to your ear and whispers "i love you."
you blink at him- once, twice, three times. you understand now that gojo is more than a friend to you and you recognise it's been this way for a very long time but through all his speech you didn't consider he felt the same. maybe that's why you didn't understand your own feelings, because if gojo acts the same as you do and calls you his friend you never questioned about if you really felt friendship towards him.
how long as satoru known all this and has kept you in the dark? what if he choose not to ever tell you? would you end up in a relationship with someone else only to break their heart when you finally realise that you're in love with satoru. your mouth is dry and you lick your lips swallowing to wet them, your voice still sounds a little hoarse though as you say, "why didn't you tell me?"
"because you'll understand and accept your own feelings and mine. i wanted to tell you but i know you, i knew that you would just deny it and ignore your feelings and it could result in something changing with us and that was the last thing i wanted sweetheart, it would kill me but i knew that it was time. i knew that you'd accept both of our feelings," he asserts and he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat.
you know what he's saying is true but you can't help but pout. "how do you know me better than myself satoru?"
satoru chuckles. well he does spend a great deal of his time loving everything you do...
"plus i couldn't keep it in any longer princess, i swear i was going mad. i would probably have folded soon and tell you," he whines and you giggle.
you take a deep breath and look at him straight in the eye, your whole body feeling fuzzy, "satoru i love you."
'yeah i know.'
gojo grins and wipes his forehead dramatically, "thank god." he holds onto the nape of your neck and pulls you to his lips so he can kiss you hungrily, as he pulls away he asks "do you still want to sleep in the spare room tonight? my room is more comfortable... and there may be some boxes on the bed that i haven't moved."
your eyes widen, "say you're joking 'toru!"
he throws his hands up and grins "well..."
you don't stay mad at him long, you've both confessed your love to each other it's not like you can be annoyed at him, you grin back, "i can't believe you."
"i swear it wasn't planned just a happy coincidence... that i chose not to tell you about... but it's okay because we can just use that room for any of your extra stuff when you move in."
you open your mouth wide in disbelief, "i cannot believe you satoru!"
"aw come on you know you love me!" he chuckles and you glare at him before be pokes your cheek and you start laughing too.
388 notes · View notes
pyeongstarr · 3 days ago
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Nothing's Free — 박성화
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˙⋆✮ pairing/s: dilf!seonghwa x fem!intern
˙⋆✮ in which: you are eternally grateful to your best friend's dad for giving you an internship, but just how grateful are you really?
˙⋆✮ genre/s: smut
˙⋆✮ warnings: unprotected sex, drunk sex, cnc, coercion, dubcon. choking, dacryphilia, creampie, spanking, hair pulling, bondage. power imbalance, reader got roofied (sorry). seonghwa is really persuasive and isn't taking 'no' for an answer. reader has always had a crush on hwa but you know...
˙⋆✮ word count: 4.5k
˙⋆✮ author's note: i know stuff like cnc isn't everyone's cup of tea and that's fine. read at your own discretion. xoxo. (this turned out a lot darker than i intended, sorry)
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| | beyoncé // all up in your mind
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“Again, thanks a ton for hooking me up with this internship,” Murphy remarked while packing her laptop into her bag.
“No problem. You’re basically family, anything for you,” Sujin reassured her best friend.
As she walked towards the door, she turned to say, “Also, is the car necessary? I’m perfectly fine with taking the train.”
“You’re just gonna have to talk to my dad about it, sorry,” Sujin joked, waving ‘goodbye’ as the door closed and Murphy went on her merry way.
She was already behind on time as it was, after her alarm had failed to go off and wake her. Heels clinking against the marble floors as she speedwalked to the elevator, catching it just before the doors shut. As soon as the doors opened, she walked swiftly through the lobby and exited the building. Parked on the roadside right in front of the entrance, there was a black Mercedes sedan waiting, just for her. The chauffeur stood at attention with their hands behind their back. The main advantage of living in the inner city was the short commute between work and home. Although the chauffeur tried their best to weave through the traffic congestion, she still arrived 30 minutes later than usual.
As grateful as she was for the employment opportunity, what she abhored most was the environment. Or rather, how the environment reacted to her. Everybody knew everybody, but she knew almost nobody. Sentenced to exhile by those who fawned over the head honcho, simply because she was the favourite. While others had worked there for years on end, Murphy just came strutting in one day and given a seat at the boss’ desk. Accompanied him to every meeting, assisted with every project. She was basically his righthand woman, and the other ladies were not pleased, to say the least. It was the same routine all-around; she’d exit the elevator, walk chin-up into the office while the echo of her heels subdued the ambience, the others would gawk and scoff, and she’d beeline straight to her superior’s quarters.
The office was empty, no sign of the boss in sight. None of his belongings were there but the telephone rang incessantly, cutting through the austere silence. She jogged over to the desk, laid her bag and coat down on her side of the desk, and circled around to answer the phone. She sat down in the leather chair and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Park Real Estate, Murphy Isles speaking, how may I help you?” Her voice softly heralded.
“Good morning. This is Ingrid Maxwell of Kim Resorts, I was looking to get a meeting with Mr. Park today on behalf of Kim Hongjoong. Do you have any available openings?”
“Let me check how his schedule is looking,” She turned on the computer and located the planner. Her eyes browsed through the schedule, just one meeting after another.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Park has back-to-back meetings all day. I could pencil you in for after hours if it’s urgent?” She offered apologetically.
“That’s also fine, thank you. Mr. Kim would like to host the meeting on resort premises, if it’s not any trouble.”
“Noted, Mr. Park will be there at 17:30. Send my regards.”
As the phone call neared its end, Seonghwa came strutting in. A rush of heat washed over in waves on Murphy’s face and she suddenly felt her body warm up. She stood up and stepped aside, allowing Seonghwa to take his rightful place. With his hair slicked back, slivers of grey creeping in, and suit hugging his body just right, he was a silver fox in the making. A sight for the ages. The man had a perpetual grave look to him. Despite being old enough to father her, he admittedly had an allure that she couldn’t find in boys her age.
When Murphy and Sujin graduated from university a few months prior, Sujin swayed her father into hiring Murphy. Seonghwa was a successful entrepreneur, who headed a real estate empire, and having known Murphy since she was in high school, he was more than willing to give her the headstart that she was in dire need of. Even going as far as, not only hiring her a private car to take her everywhere she wanted to go, but also purchasing a condo in which she and his daughter could cohabitate. He wanted to make life simple for her.
“Kim Hongjoong’s assistant asked for a meeting today, said it was urgent. The meeting’s at 17:30.”
“Is that so?” He coaxed, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped together, holding Murphy’s gaze. “Must be important if he wants to meet after hours.”
Murphy settled down in the chair opposite Seonghwa. “Also, Mr. Park, is the private car really necessary? The train stations are within walking distance of the office and the condo.”
“Nonsense. If you’re going to work for me, it should reflect. Don’t worry about it,” A lazy grin tugged at his lips.
“I don’t know about that. The whole office already hates me for even sharing a desk with you,” She mindlessly grumbled as she set up her laptop, but her words didn’t miss him.
He leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows furrowed, “Who’s giving you trouble, Murphy?” He pried.
“No one, it’s nothing,” She feigned a smile and kept her eyes focussed on the screen.
[ . . . ]
Towards the end of business hours, while Murphy sat in her place, another intern, Wooyoung, leaned liberally against Seonghwa’s desk, facing her. In the past few minutes they had been talking, he’d managed to make her laugh and blush. The pair hit it off from the day Murphy set foot in the office months ago, but it was only a week back when Wooyoung had conjured up the courage to ask her out, to which Murphy enthusiastically agreed to entertain his suggestion.
“So, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Wooyoung hinted, and Murphy nodded. “Awesome, you’re gonna love this place, Murph. I’m telling you,” He held her chin between his fingers.
The door opened so soundlessly, that neither were aware until they heard Seonghwa’s weighted footsteps headed towards them. He caught sight of what had transpired, slightly annoyed that it was happening in the sanctity of his own space. Wooyoung scrambled to get on his feet, while Murphy remained resolute. Seonghwa loomed over the intern, eyes cold and stygian, and face void of expression.
“No fraternising during work hours, unless you want to serve a 1-hour notice,” He chastised. “You do that out there, not in my office, and certainly not on my desk.”
Wooyoung bowed his head in shame, “I’m sorry, Mr. Park. It won’t happen again,” he conceded before scurrying away, and out of the office.
“Wooyoung dropped off the market reports. Looks like your shares have gone up 2% in valuation,” She handed over the sheet of paper.
Seonghwa leaned against the desk, in the same spot formerly occupied by Wooyoung, as he surveyed the findings. “Slow but steady growth. Looks promising, what do you think?”
“I’d say this is your best investment thus far. Look,” She turned the laptop to him, “month-end projections, 35% in returns. Your shares will be worth millions by the end of the quarter.”
“I’m so glad that I listened to you on this one.”
“You’re welcome,” She chimed.
A cheek-to-cheek smile appeared on Seonghwa’s face. “Let’s go, don’t want to be late for that meeting.”
The two cleared the desk and packed away their belongings. Walking towards the door, she trailed right behind while he led the way. He opened the door and made way for her to step out. After locking, they fell into pace with one another as they walked side by side towards the exit. From wall to wall, eyes in the office followed them all the way to the elevator. With each set, she grew more anxious than usual. How she hoped the earth would just open up and swallow her. The chauffeur opened the doors for both of them, then drove to their intended destination. While Seonghwa spoke on the phone, Murphy sat with one leg crossed over the other, watching the buildings pass by in motion. Luckily, the Friday afternoon traffic had not begun yet. They arrived just in time, with only a few minutes to spare.
When they entered the premises, they were greeted by a concierge who led them through the building. They walked past a grand dining hall with grand chandeliers that hung from above, glass windows from floor to ceiling, and rustic décor, all of which caught Murphy’s eye. The look in her eyes did not pass him. Inside of the office, Seonghwa and Murphy were greeted by Kim Hongjoong, the head of the resort, and his secretary, Ingrid. They exchanged greetings, but right before the meeting began, Hongjoong whispered something into Ingrid’s ear, and she nodded.
Ingrid walked over to Murphy, “Let’s go get something to drink, shall we? Leave the gentlemen be,” she suggested.
She was hesitant to move from her spot but Seonghwa reassured her, giving her the green light. Ingrid and Murphy left the office, and took their places at an unoccupied table on the balcony. A waiter approached them, jotted down their orders in his notebook, and disappeared. He returned with a tray holding two beverages, and placed each one in front of the girls.
“So, what’s it like working for Mr. Park? Never seen him come to these meetings with anyone, other than himself,” Ingrid sipped on her drink.
“I like it. For the most part, the job’s easy and the pay is even better. Can’t say I’ve made friends though.”
“I’ve heard,” Murphy’s eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “I have a friend who works at Park Real Estate, they talked about you once.”
“Oh God…”
“Nothing bad, don’t worry about it,” Ingrid chuckled lightly. “I get it, happened to me when I first started working for Hongjoong.”
“The stares… did they ever stop? The gossip?” A hint of desperation was laced in her question.
“No,” Ingrid refuted. “I just stopped caring. Realised that Hongjoong’s opinion was the only one that mattered. Can’t help that the boss loves me.”
The sky was soon void of any light by the time the meeting concluded. Ingrid and Murphy talked the time away, bonding over their shared experiences of being the boss’ favourite. One laughed, while the other would relay a story. They didn’t realise how fast the time had past them. On the other end of the passageway, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were just wrapping up their meeting. They stood by the door and talked a bit. Hongjoong reached into his pocket and brought out a key, which he handed over to Seonghwa. He looked at it, confused by the gesture.
“On the house,” Hongjoong urged, hinting at the intern at the other end of the passageway. “Ask Ingrid to throw in some party favours, in case you need them. And check the drawers.”
Seonghwa smirked, “Pleasure doing business with you, Kim.”
Hongjoong disappeared back into his office, as Seonghwa sauntered over to the balcony. Unbeknownst to her, Murphy was so engrossed in the conversation, she didn’t hear when Seonghwa called to her.
“Mr. Park…” Ingrid acknowledged the man who stood right beside Murphy.
“Ingrid, Hongjoong mentioned something about party favours?” Seonghwa briefly glanced at Murphy, Ingrid nodded with a slight grin on her face.
“It was nice meeting you, Murphy. I really hope we can do this again,” Ingrid said as she stood from her place.
Murphy stood up and circled around to hug Ingrid, “I’ll call you,” she affirmed.
The three exchanged goodbyes before Ingrid headed elsewhere, and Seonghwa accompanied Murphy towards the exit. They headed in the same direction they came in earlier, except now, He led them into the dining hall that she was doting over earlier on. She felt uneasy as she had to get home and prepare for her date with Wooyoung.
“Mr. Park, I need to get home. There’s somewhere that I really need to be.”
“Relax, Murphy. We won’t be long, 30 minutes, I promise.”
And 30 minutes it was. Only 30 minutes into their shared dinner, Murphy had already had a lot to drink, but not enough to get her drunk. Just buzzed. Buzzed enough to get her to loosen up. Enough to see Seonghwa as just a man, and not her best friend’s father. While they drank and talked the time away, he would briefly touch her intimately in passing. Their conversations were less rigid and formal, and more open and inviting.
“Earlier you mentioned being mistreated in the office, what’s wrong?”
At first she was hesitant, but eventually allowed herself to be honest. “Everyone basically... h-hates me because they think you’re playing favourites,” Her voice quaked and her breath shuddered, her head hung.
“You don’t really believe that, do you now?”
She sniffled and her back shuddered, the faint sound of her weeping landed on his ears. He held her chin between his fingers and cocked her head up, meeting her glossy, distressed eyes. His thumb brushed away a stray tear.
“I’m sorry,” She croaked. “I- I thought I could get past it and pretend it’s not happening. But I’m just having a hard time adjusting. I feel like a castaway and I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”
“I believe you, but you know, it’s only natural that I favour you. I’ve known you the longest.”
When she noticed how inappropriate the entire interaction had become, she wiped her tears. “Oh God...” She whispered, gulping down the rest of her wine. “I- I need to go, I’m meeting somebody.”
As she stood up from her place, her head suddenly felt light. She held onto the table, and as she was about to stand again, her muscles became languid, causing her to lose balance. Seonghwa was quick to catch her around the waist. She tried speaking, but her words were jumbled. Her breathing was laboured, and the whole room suddenly felt like it was lacking in ventilation. He took her belongings and led her to a room, using the key acquired earlier on and unlocked the door.
He laid her down gently on the bed. His eyes watched with a raging hunger as he undressed his upper body, removing the tie, jacket, and shirt. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her semi-conscious body. His lips found her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses, nibbling at her skin. His hand fiddled with the front zipper of her dress, slowly dragging it down to reveal her matching set of underwear.
“Mr. Park... w-what are you doing? I...” She gulped as her words lazily hung in the air. “I don’t feel so good...”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you,” He promised between kisses. “You’ll feel better in no time...”
He continued to kiss her neck and bare chest, whilst his hands caressed her thighs with desperation. Roaming everywhere from her breasts, to her ass. He loved the feeling of her skin in his hands. The contact was everything. The scent of her perfume created a bubble of sophism, fooling him into believing that they were fated to be.
“You asked for this, Murphy. Those skimpy little dresses you wear and always putting your boobs in my face. You were just begging for me to give it to you,” He growled into her ears, sending a wave of fear coursing through her body.
He posited himself between her thighs and pressed kisses on her stomach. Each kiss moved higher than the last. Wetter and sloppier than before. Murphy squirmed beneath him while he had her hands pinned over her head. With the little energy she had, her feet tried kicking him off, but did so to no avail.
“Please, no...” She wept, tears running down the sides of her face as the white pillowcases stained with mascara. “Mr. Park, don’t... Please...”
He halted all actions and immediately stood up from the bed. A sense of relief enveloped her, but the tears just wouldn’t cease. The fear of how far it all would have gone had he ignored her. A part of her also felt guilty because how was she supposed to face her best friend, knowing what her father had just done? She sat up on the edge of the bed, wiping her tears while Seonghwa put on his dress shirt.
“Make sure your side of my desk is cleaned out by Monday, don’t bother coming back to work,” Seonghwa’s words were harsh and heavy with consequence.
“W-what?”
“You’re fired.”
“N-no, Mr. Park, you can’t do that!” She blurted, panic setting in with every passing moment.
“Frankly, I can,” He boasted as he buttoned up his shirt. “Clearly, you don’t appreciate this opportunity that I’ve given you. God, do you know how many graduates would die to work for me?”
She stood up and slowly approached him, but nearly lost her balance, so she held on to the nearby glass table for support. “I do appreciate it, I really do. I just– I– ” She sputtered as the fear of unemployment became more potent.
“You what?”
“I– don’t fire me, please,” She begged. “Just– I’ll do whatever you want,” Her hands began undoing the buttons of his shirt and hesitantly tugged on the hem of his trousers. “It’s... Sujin... She’d never forgive me.”
“It’ll be our little secret, then. Nobody has to know, now do they?”
He wiped away her tears and dipped down to catch her lips. While his pressed firmly against hers, and his tongue moved meticulously inside her mouth, she was still apprehensive. Each time their tongues met, a tear would roll down her cheek. The guilt was just overwhelming, but the need to keep her job was stronger. She removed his dress shirt. Her fingertips were delicate, touching every inch of his carved torso, until she unzipped his trousers. He stopped her from reaching in. Instead, he removed her dress and undergarments.
Nearby was a small table, in which he bent her over, her ass brushing against his throbbing, clothed cock. Tremors meandered up her spine when her nipples met the cold feel of the table’s glass surface. She hissed. When he dropped his trousers to the floor, his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach then grazing her skin. He was massive with a bright pink tip, very generous in both length and girth. While he stroked himself, he palmed a handful of her cheek, kneading it. A crackling sound bounced off the walls when his hand met her cheek at full force, illiciting a whimper. He spread her cheeks open, his tongue lapping up her juices. He lined himself up at her entrance. The tip alone stretched her out, and without so much as a warning, he slammed into her tight, sopping hole. Filling her right up. She lurched forward as she whined, and tears ran down her temples and onto the table.
His hands gripped her waist with efficacy, nails digging into her skin. Each thrust was slow and hard, affording him the opportunity to slap her ass as much as he wished. His pace slowly started picking up, with Murphy trying to reach back and slow him down. Instead, grabbed both her hands and pinned them to her back.
“Naughty bunny. Your body, my rules, understood?” He dictated.
“Y-yes, Mr. Park,” She moaned breathlessly.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and began thrusting into her relentlessly. The sound of his hips snapping against her ass echoed louder than the rumbling air conditioner Her legs trembled as a trail of cum glid down her thighs. Her moans and his grunts sung together like a ballad. He moved sporadically as she grew tighter around him, her first orgasm of the night slowly crept in. His pace remained steady while she came undone all over his cock. A white ring formed around him. But he was not looking to cum just yet, no. He wanted to look her dead in the eyes as he laid claim over her entire livelihood.
As Murphy slowly descended from her high, Seonghwa hoisted her up and sat her on the table. She leaned back as he spread her legs open, holding them up with his arms. He slammed back into her drenched hole, grinding up against her. Her face glistened with sweat, as did his. They held each other’s eyes, refusing to look away. The way her breasts danced with every thrust, the smudged mascara, the rosy cheeks and nose, the disheveled hair; he appreciated the sight of this miscellany. He did that. His hand snaked around her neck, squeezing at the sides, and brought her face closer.
“I ever catch you with that punk again, I’ll fire you both. You work for me, so you do as I say, am I clear?” He growled under his breath.
“He’s out of my life,” She nodded profusely, “I promise.”
His own orgasm finally washed over him, yet he continued grinding into her. As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he held her eyes in his, her arms swung over his shoulders. They shared a deep, passionate kiss as ribbons of warm cum painted her walls. He had successfully marked his territory like he had dreamt of doing for months. They both watched as he slowly thrusted cum back into her abused core.
“So... beautiful,” She whispered as she watched him thrust in and out.
He smirked to himself, “See, that’s why you’re my favourite worker bee,” he coaxed. “I’m not done with you just yet.”
Carrying her astride, he walked over to the bed and laid her down on her back. He leaned over to reach into the bedside drawer. He opened it, only to find 2 pairs of handcuffs staring him in the eye. The glimmer of the ceiling lights danced on the silver surface, enticing and provoking him. He took them out and started prepping them for usage. In a state of delirium, Murphy still managed to make out what was in Seonghwa’s hands. She attempted to lift her head off the pillow, but he pushed her back down.
The sound of the metal locking around her wrist put her in a sudden state of panic. “Mr. Park, I don’t like this...”
He ignored her as he locked the other end around her ankle. “Mr. Park, please,” Fear was palpable in her voice, “I– I don’t like being restrained, please, don’t...”
“Shhh,” He uttered, “I’d never hurt you, bunny,” She weakly clawed at his chest, only for her freed wrist to be cuffed down. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it. Let me show you how my favourite employee really deserves to be treated.”
“Please, I’ve been so good. Not this...” She sobbed, body squirming under his weight as she felt his tip graze her aching core.
He balanced himself on his elbows as he slotted himself between her thighs, silencing her heartfelt pleas with a soft kiss, which she cried into. A desperate attempt to connect in a way he could not with sex. A low moan arose from her diaphragm when he steadily fitted himself back inside of her. He pecked her once more before burying his face into the crook of her neck, finding his rhythm as grinded into her with practiced precision. Her once distressed cries, now replaced by pleasured whimpers, landed on his ears and encouraged him to continue using her however he wished.
“Why’re you always teasing me with the way that you dress? Why’re you testing my limits?”
“Because I can...” Her voice so sultry, she proclaimed into his ear.
With a lot more speed, he thrusted faster. One hand on the headboard, the other had a firm grip on her neck while he gently pressed her into the mattress. Her cries became louder, needier. The sound of her core squelching, arousal leaked from her sopping hole, down her to ass and onto the sheets. Seonghwa’s face hovered a few inches above hers. He instructed her to open her mouth, and she gladly obliged. A sliver of spit hung from his lips, and she reached for it with her tongue, quenching a longstanding thirst.
“Mr. Park, please, faster! Faster!”
“That’s it, bunny. Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good...”
His hips bucked when he felt her clamp around him. Both his hands on the headboard, her back arched and head buried in the pillows, they were both approaching the finish line. As she was about to crest, she called out his first name, an anomaly to both. The squelching became deafly loud as she came all over him. Her body convulsed, a slow-growing pain in her hips become more evident, longer she was restrained. Meanwhile, Seonghwa welcomed his own orgasm. His cock twitched erratically inside of her, spraying his seed in every crevice of her warmth.
He collapsed on her chest, leaving trails of wet kisses on her collarbone. The taste of sweat lingered on his tongue. He decorated her neck with numerous hickeys before removing her restraints. Without a second to waste, she was out like a light, and her soft snores filled the room. He switched off all the lights in the room before laying beside her and fell into a slumber of his own.
[ . . . ]
At around 23:00, her eyes fluttered open, the room was coated in darkness with not even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate. When she turned to her side, there laid Seonghwa, hair spread all over his face, and chest rising and falling. Her throat was so dry, it felt as though somebody stuffed it with cotton. Body ached at every joint and limb. But she was particularly sore down there. Careful not wake him, she slipped out of bed. Drowsy and head throbbing, she stumbled but held onto the bedside drawer for balance. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she tiptoed around the bed and put on her clothes. She took her heels in one hand and her purse in the other, then her phone vibrated. A thread of text messages and missed phone calls.
Sujin: held up at work? [18:01]
Sujin: HEEELLLOOOOO??? [18:27]
Sujin: GIRL WHERE TF ARE YOU? ARE YOU MAD AT ME? :( [18:45]
Wooyoung: You running late? [19:15]
Wooyoung: If you didn’t wanna go out, you should’ve told me so. [19:49]
Wooyoung: You could at least explain yourself… [20:37]
Sujin: i’m getting worried. where are you? [23:48]
She continued to tiptoe to the door, sneaking glances of a sleeping Seonghwa. The door would not budge when she pulled down the handle. A cold wave blanketed her when she realised it was locked. She searched the glass table for the keys but found nothing. Seonghwa’s trousers splayed across the floor, and so she checked the pockets. Something jingled, and a sense of relief blanketed her. Her hand reached into the pocket and–
“What do you think you’re doing?” Seonghwa’s voice cut through the silence, groggy and still heavy with sleep.
Quietly removing the keys from the pocket, he dropped his trousers to the floor. “I- I, uh, need to get home. S-Sujin’s been texting…”
He got up from the bed, and stood before her, uncovered. “My daughter can take care of herself. Keys on the table, now.” She reluctantly obliged. “Good, now take off your clothes.”
As the tears loomed and ran free on her cheeks, she wished her heart would quiet down, afraid Seonghwa could hear it. She tried sorting through her emotions as she removed all of her clothes, but it was a mélange of fear, anticipation and guilt, and an unconfirmed tinge of excitement. At last, nude, he dipped down to press a kiss on her lips while his hands travelled down to grab the back of her thighs. The kiss held a salty taste from her tears. He hoisted her up and carried her to the bed. No more resistance. Instead, she succumbed to her fate. Her mind retreated in a subspace devoid of guilt, only open to pleasure brought on by obedience. Her soft moans filled the room as she relentlessly begged for him to never stop.
.
.
.
taglist babies:
@nopension
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vaspider · 2 days ago
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I keep saying that he looks like a little boy who knows that Mommy can't stop him or spank him because he's in public and she won't want to Make A Scene so he knows he'll get away with it.
It's so VERY purposeful.
But my favorite commentary on this so far actually comes from Stephen Colbert:
youtube
Wow... that sure looked like what it was. Now, I don't know if Musk intended to do a Nazi salute - he says he is not a Nazi - but what I do know is that people who are not Nazis know how to avoid doing a Nazi salute.
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trickbxbes · 3 days ago
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Hey girl!
Love your work, especially the Dae-ho stuff and I’m so glad I found your page!!!!
If I can, can I request more smut… WHO SAID THAT
I don’t know if you need an idea, maybe if you do what I’d Dae-ho and fem reader are in an established relationship and they haven’t had sex in a WHILE, you got it from there ;)
-🦑
Omg I’m so sorry I didn’t see this but yes >:)
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 (18+)
[𝐃𝐚𝐞-𝐇𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]
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Summary: You and Dae-Ho have been extraordinarily busy trying to stay afloat from all the debt. It led to long days, and shorter nights. Both of you spending less and less time with each other. But one argument actually helps release some long built tension :)
Warnings: Smut, Minor arguing, angry turned passionate sex, kitchen fucking, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex,
Word Count: 1,703
Your shoulders slack as you finally get home, holding your purse close to you as a reminder to stay awake. It was a long night at work. Your eyes stung from the dryness. You fumble for the keys to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, Dae-Ho. Debt had been weighing heavily on both your shoulders and his. Many times did you come home to your lover already asleep, and many times did you wake up to an empty bed.
Entering your home, you’re surprised to see the living room light still on. Dae-Ho was sitting at the dining table, back hunched slightly over his laptop. He turns to see you arrive, squinting his eyes and then rubbing them.
“Hi, honey. Wow, is it that late already?”
He checks the clock on the screen. You nod, rubbing your head. A migraine had creeped its way to the left side of your skull. You flick on the kitchen light to get yourself some water. But you’re greeted by a ghastly sight, dirty dishes stacked up in the sink. The chronic stress you were under turned your minor irritation into full frustration.
“Dae-Ho, I thought I told you to clean that…!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. Dae-Ho leans back in his chair, getting scolded making it harder for him to not get defensive.
“‘m sorry, I thought I did it already. I have a lot of stuff to do too, you know.”
His tone made him come off a little more self justifying than he intended, which further amplified your annoyance. You hum, looking to the ground.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure.” You mutter sarcastically. Dae-Ho’s eyebrows furrow as you go and grab a glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up a bit straighter. “It means I’m not the one in 250 mil debt, Dae-Ho!” You knew you’d regret being so harsh but right now you couldn’t care less. A dry chuckle leaves his lips. “Don’t act so innocent. You’re in mil debt territory too!”
“I just wanna come home to a clean house!”
“You want me to do it so bad? Fine!”
Dae-Ho gets up from his seat and storms to the sink. “Y’know more than half of these are yours, though.” He’d say quietly, wanting an end to the conflict but also wanting to get that point across. You grip at your hair, your teeth grit. “Why are you making this so difficult? You think I like coming home super late and being so tired I can’t do anything but crawl in bed? I miss you!” You raise your voice, but lowering your volume mid shout. As angry as you were, you didn’t forget your boyfriend’s discomfort with shouting and aggression.
He’s about to turn on the sink, still heated. “I miss you too—!” Until he saw you pulling your hair, making him instinctively grab your wrist. “Stop that-!”
You jerk, trying to release yourself. “I wouldn’t be this pissed off if you had just did what you said!” Your struggling made you step back, now feeling the cold kitchen counter on your back.
“You think I like going to bed alone too? Barely being able to see you, huh?!”
His breath is hot on your face, the close proximity being mere inches. You find yourself staring up at him. Being pinned to the counter, his rough grip on your wrist, it made a certain heat rise in your stomach. You both don’t say anything for a few minutes, just glaring at each other. Until you use your free hand to grab the side of his neck and pull him in for a searing kiss.
Dae-Ho makes a surprised sound before reciprocating, groaning against your lips. He lets go of your wrist, instead choosing to grab your hips and pull you closer to his body. He presses you further against the counter, making you moan lightly as you had your hands tangled in his hair.
You lift a leg up, giving Dae-Ho a chance to grab your under thigh and lift your leg higher. You feel his bulge against your wet core, he was already getting hard. Had it really been that long since you two have done it?
You hook your leg around his waist, grinding against his body. A deep rumble leaves Dae-Ho’s throat, he pulls back, a string of saliva connecting you both. “Fuck…” He pants for air. Disappointment and anxiety creeped up faster than you could’ve imagined. This was the first time you two were this passionate in awhile. You couldn’t let him pull away now.
You grab the cuff of his shirt and yank him back toward you. Oh that shirt, you always hated it. The design reminded you of some clown graffiti you’d see in a sketchy part of town. You’d rather see your boyfriend without it on.
As you kiss him again, you slide your hands up underneath his shirt. His skin was hot, his hips stuttered as you ran your fingers over his abs. Dae-Ho shuddered a little. But he leaned closer, his tongue dancing along with yours. He’d attempt to speak to you in between your hot temperature kisses.
“Wait—is this… okay?”
You cup his cheeks and look him in the eyes, you could see you both were much less angry. But the passion brewing was one you couldn’t let simmer. You needed that shit to over boil.
“Dae-Ho. Fuck me. Now.”
Dae-Ho did not have to be told twice as he dived back into your lips. The passionate exchange only broken for a moment as you made him take that ghastly shirt off. His hand slowly slid down your pants as your hands slid around his neck. Dae-Ho groans in your mouth as his hand feels your soaking folds. You whimper in pleasure, trying to somehow get closer to him. He starts to rub your clit in smooth slow circles. You whine out, Dae-Ho letting your sounds fill the room so he could hear you clearly. His mouth was slightly open, as if mimicking the shape your mouth was making.
He slips in a finger, curling it and making you bite your lip. Dae-Ho thumbs the bottom of your lip. He leans in close.
“Don’t. I wanna hear you.”
His tongue swirls around yours before his lips connect for a quick peck. He inserts another finger, now drawing out all your sounds. He plunged them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. You still had both your hands on the back of his neck.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck… Dae-Ho…!” You couldn’t take it, you needed more. You took off your shirt, and aggressively pulled down your bottoms. You’re left in just your bra and underwear for him. His fingers didn’t leave your dripping cunt, continuously finger fucking you. You felt yourself getting close, but this isn’t how you wanted to go. “Dae-Ho~! Get… inside!” Your command somehow made the male even harder, his cock stirring in his pants.
He removes his fingers so he could lift you up onto the kitchen counter. While you desperately removed your panties, he took off his pants and got his member free.
Dae-Ho lines up with your entrance. Your wetness being more than needed for a lubricant. “Fuck, you’re so wet. All this cause of me?” He’d remark with a light cocky smirk. You glare up at him, still needing your nerves fucked out of you.
“Shut up.”
The male narrows his eyes and enters you with one thrust, bottoming out. You cry out, wet enough where it didn’t hurt, just raw pleasure. “Oh fuck—!” You choke on your own words. Dae-Ho barely gives a moment to adjust as he starts ramming into you at a fast pace. Pumped full with adrenaline, you didn’t mind at all. It almost felt like having sex for the first time. But you’ve never felt Dae-Ho’s thrust so desperately before. He had his hands on your hips, pushing you further down on him to meet every thrust. You were seeing stars, almost drifting away from the feeling. But then, you hear a,
“I love you.”
Dae-Ho was looking at you with a deep sincerity. You gaze into his eyes. Of course, now you remember, you were fighting. Your heart grew so full. You cup his face, and lull him closer.
“I-I love you too!”
You both kiss lovingly, now out of pure passion and love for each other, than out of lust. His rhythm struck slightly out of order, and you knew he was close. Before you could even hold out for him though, you come undone. You cry out his name, your head arched toward the ceiling. Dae-Ho sped up, his thrusts sloppy, but yearning.
“(Y,n)… (Y,n)…! Shit…!”
He lets out a held back roar, finishing inside of you. You cling onto him, whining with broken gasps. Your hands drift from his back to his shoulders as the two of you calm down.
Panting, Dae-Ho rests his head against your collarbone. You weakly rub his head, closing your eyes. He slowly comes out of you, creating a light squelching sound.
“Don’t be mad…I love you.”
His tone was soft, hesitant. You recognized this vulnerability from him, and slowly wrap your arms around him. “I love you too…” You say sincerely. Dae-Ho doesn’t say anything back, but he does scoop you up bridal style in his arms.
You’re carried back to your bed, and he lays beside you. It was late, and you were more than happy to get some rest after that. You can safely say you’re no longer angry. To double check on that, Dae-Ho mumbles,
“I’ll do the dishes in the morning, I promise.”
He gently pushes a strand of hair from your face. You scoot closer, signaling your boyfriend to embrace you in his open arms. He plants a kiss on your head. You listen to his heartbeat, the way it beat so fast.
“I’m sorry…”
“…I’m sorry too…”
The two of you lay there together, drifting off into a well needed slumber. But for the first time in awhile, you felt like your relationship with your lover was secure. And how, that’s one way to get out of doing dishes.
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catdia · 3 days ago
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Jayce Talis with a Chubby S/o
(Modern AU / College AU)
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The first time you meet was late at night. You were coming out of your physics class as he was finishing up his biomedical engineering course.
You were trying to get home when a pair of male students tried to conner you and wouldn’t let you pass. Jayce was walking out a little later than he normally did and heard all the commotion.
“Come on! It’s not like anyone is dying for your number. Just give it to me.”
“No thanks—” You pivoted to the side, and yet again blocked by other of the guys.
“What do you mean no?! It’s not like big girls like you have any options! I’m doing you a favor. I doubt that any guys want to—”
“I said NO!” They were really starting to get on your nerves. Jayce decided to step in a heartbeat.
“What do you mean no?!” He raised his hand at you, making you flinch. Jayce ran towards you, furious at the gross display of disrespect you were facing. He steeped in between the small space the guy had created in front of you.
“She said no. Now let her go on her way.” Jayce pushed the guy who raised his hand to you. Making him stumble back.
“Look at this, man—” One of the guys playfully slapped the guy who was in your face on his shoulder. “We got a hero in your hands! Pathetic.” You discretely took out your pepper spray from your pocket, turning the handle and placing your thumb on the button.
“Just leave the girl alone and we will not have anymore problems.” You stepped next to Jayce, weapon at your side. You saw one of the fuckers get close in frustration.
“And what are you going to do if—” Before the guy could finish his sentence you doused his face with pepper spray. “H-Holy fuck! You bitch!” The guy fell on his knees in pain, rubbing his eyes.
“What the fuck?! I’m going to—”
Before his friend could react you did the same to him and landed a swift kick to his balls. Making his face hit the pavement below his feet as his eyes burned. Jayce was utterly stunned. A little thing like you having such violent behaviors. And he found that hot.
He felt a small hand in his palm, then a tug strong enough to make his feet shuffle. It was you trying to get him to run in what ever direction you wanted him too.
“Hurry before they get up!” You yelled at him, his feet moving as yours did. You stopped at one of the dorm buildings. Hands on your knees as you catch your breath. Jayce doing the same.
“That was fun.” He joked, earning a giggle for you. But he still could feel the sadness, the bleeding wound to your heart. He got a good look at you now. Hair messy from the run, cheeks busted pink.
“Yeah, I should get called a bitch more often if it means kicking balls in!” God, he had never seen a smile so bright, so sweet. He immediately saw your expression fall into one of sorrow. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.
“Hey, I’m sorry for what those assholes did! I’ll have them reported by tomorrow. We can’t have those type of people walking about.” You hummed a response. Those type of people have always been in your life, they could never be purged.
“You know them?” You were so soft, looking at him with your shimmering eyes. Why hasn’t he seen you before until now? Why hasn’t he noticed something so angelic like you in those damn science building hallways?
“Unfortunately, they happen to have a class with me.”There was a short silence. He looked at your sad expression. “What they said isn’t true. I-I, umm, think you’re quite pretty—” You looked surprised. You have never seen a pair of amber eyes so genuine before. Could this be what wanting someone a felt like? Did it look like the most handsome man in school standing in front of you looking at your lips?
“Thank you, Jayce.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss, intended for his cheek but your lips fell on the outline of his jaw. “Bye bye.” The electric door opened with the touch of your keycard and you entered.
“Wait! Who do you know my name?” You peaked out the half closed door, smile in your lips.
“Your face is all over the place.” You pointed to your temple. “And I have a mug with you on it.” You closed the door. Leaving Jayce awestruck as his cheeks burned with passion.
Since you guys have the same schedule at night he is the one that walks you home, and you became a couple shortly after. He made sure to have a word with the dean and the two guys who harassed you were kicked out.
When he was first trying to court you he always brought you coffee to your am classes. The first time he did it was the most rememberable one because everyone was so shocked to see him walking up to you and giving you your breakfast! You sitting next to your lab partner and friend Sevika as she told you the gossip she heard in rugby practice. And you ended up confessing to her want happened the other night.
“You should have called me to pick you up!”
“Sev, I’m fine! They got kicked out this morning and are banned even from the arenas.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that. I can’t believe you had to experience that alone. You could have been seriously hurt.”
“I was okay. And I wasn’t alone actually. This guy—” Before you could finish your sentence a shadow crossed over you. And it was none other than the golden boy himself! You stood up from your desk a little too excitedly. Making Sevika scuff at you. You leaned against the corner of the table and propped your hip in your hand.
“Hey, Jayce! Are you going to be TAing or something?” You really regret not doing your hair this morning!
“Na, Heimer just was fussy about some of the numbers we crunched yesterday and want me to come early to do a final run over.” You noticed that he had food in his hands, untouched and unopened. He saw your gaze look at his hands.
“Ahh, this is for you!” He handed you an iced coffee and what looked like a pastry in a brown bag. You knew from the logo that it was from that expensive coffee shop that opened a few months ago on campus. And the heart attack that it gave you when the cashier told you in was 10 bucks for a small matcha.
“Is the coffee poisoned?” You joked, eyeing the color of the coffee. You knew it was going to be delicious.
“No, no, no! Heavens no!” He quickly shook his hands out of anxiety and looked baffled you suggested such things. He had a blush on his cheeks, a boyish look for such a large man.
“I thought it would be nice to bring you something. Y-You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. I totally understand if you don’t want to take something for a complete stranger—”
“That’s very sweet, Jayce. Thank you.” 
“No problem.”
“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”
“Really?!” You nodded your head at his excitement. “Sure!” He leaned down to your level so you didn’t have to grab a chair just to reach his neck. You placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his skin. Your lips and contact with the fresh smelling skin. He placed a hand on yours as you slowly back away from him.
“I’ll be in the library this afternoon in room 314, at about 3. Would you like to join me?” He gently squeezed your hand.
“Yeah! I’m free and I have that damned electrical current paper I have to finish. I’ll be there around 4.”
“Good!” He seemed like he really didn’t want to let you go. But he slowly walked away from you.
“Bye bye.” Jayce waited as he exited the door.
“Bye, Mr. Talis.” You blew him a kiss, he rose his hand and catch the kiss placing it next to his heart. Watching him stumble out the door as he bumped into other guy trying to walk in.
“You really have him hooked, huh?” Sevika chuckled as she popped open the brown bag to see the contents inside. “I bet 40 that he is going to beat his meat with that hand later.”
“I seriously don’t know what he sees in me. Did you know he broke up with Mel Medarda?” You leaned against the lab desk and crossed your arms. Still looking at the door Jayce entered and left moments ago. “She’s gorgeous! Makes me feel like a peasant each time I she her in her brand new BMW. And those cuffs in her locs have to be 18k gold! And did you see her latest Insta post?! She’s got body for days!”
“Looks like you have a crush on her.”
“Don’t we all?”
“I knew that you would finally start gunning for the other team. My influence is infectious.” You chuckled at her, still deep in thought as some students took their seats as class time started to approach.
“You really have to start getting out of your head, princess. Do you think he would be doing this lovey-dovey shit if he didn’t want a piece of that ass?”
“Mmm, yeah maybe you’re right—”
“And if he doesn’t work out for you I have plenty of butches that have been asking me about you. The good thing is that you can pick out the dick size.”
“Ewww! That’s so crude, Sevika!”
You heard a crunch and turned your head to Sevika. “Are you serious eating my stuff?”
“Checking it for roofies.” She bit the flaky pastry again and took a sip of your latte. Moaning at the taste as she gave it a final swirl. Passing it to you.“You have my green light.” You rolled your eyes at her.
“Oh, shit! He left his number on the pastry bag!”
He is the captain of the baseball team and also the golden boy of the engineering department. His face is plastered all over the school and even in the promotional stuff of the college.
Hispanic / Latino! A Colombian-Brazilian mix.
His sponsor is the Kiramman family, he won a scholarship in middle school for a Juniors Inventors Competition he placed first. They have paid for his education ever since because they loved him so much. And helps Cait with all her homework and tutoring. They also are members of the board of education (cough nepotism cough).
Your first date was at a basketball game. His friend Vi was playing in the national women’s tournament that was taking place at your college’s arena. Imagine you are relaxing and enjoying the game as the Jumbotron is going around focusing on couples for the kiss cam. And it lands on you two!
“I guess we have to give the people what they want.”
“How unfortunate for us.” You leaned into Jayce, grazing your lips against his.
You guys share a passionate kiss as the crowd went wild. Later you saw your picture in the schools newspaper talking about the game and the “New Golden Boy’s Gal”.
His favorite pet names for you are babe, baby, dove, and princess! When he gets spicy uses “muñeca” (doll) and “mi tesoro” (my treasure).
Doesn’t seem like a party person at all! He went to a few in his first year but didn’t like the craziness of them. He does however go to fundraising galas and any event that the school of engineering / baseball does.
And you are his plus one always!
Likes to be in suits and all dolled up, Jayce likes to look good. He knows his handsome, but he doesn’t compete next to you. Having your curves hugged so nicely by the gown you’re wearing, hair and makeup done.
“Are you ready, Jayce? If we are not there by 7 Professor Heimerdinger will have my ass.” You entered his room, heels clicking. He pulled his tie around his neck and he saw you in the reflection of his small mirror.
“You look stunning!” He shifted his attention to you. Watching you struggle to put your necklace on he quickly took the chain from your fingers.
“I don’t feel stunning—” He clipped the necklace. Kissing the nape of your neck.
“Jayce, we will be late!” He unzipped the back of your dress, earning a yelp from you. His cold hands slipping under the fabric and grasping the meat of your hips and stomach.
“They can wait! You are more important than so old farts with money to spare.” Your dress pooled on your feet.
Wouldn’t it be awkward having Mel as his ex like a mentioned previously?! And she being the face of the school of engineering like Jayce?! They only dated because it was pushed on them by the department because having a “power couple” as the face of the college meant big money.
I believe that their relationship never was more than occasional sex and a little toxic. She 100% dated Jayce because Ambessa told her too. Mel only cared about him when it came to the aesthetics of it all. Made him follow a script all the time in public. He couldn’t smile too much, couldn’t giggle because it was uncouth, changed his diet because according to her he was still “flabby” even with the constant work he put in… Mel manipulated the hell out of him, and she was damn good at it. She made him feel trapped and loved at the same time. It wasn’t a very healthy relationship.
Viktor never really liked Mel so when she broke with him he was the happiest man alive! He was like “yeah I hated that bitch” and Jayce was just crying his eyes out because he was dumped before his game.
I think Mel dumped him because he was tired of not being himself anymore. He didn’t find joy in the little things and he stared to tell her “no” when it came to her shifting his whole personality.
She had a wake up call a few more years into college and even broke of her relationship with her mother. Mel eventually apologized to Jayce for all the pain she caused him.
When Jayce introduced you to Viktor you both hit it off right away! He said something in the line of: “I like this one, keep her around.”
I headcanon Jayce as bisexual, but isn’t the type to parade it around or even mention it to people. Doesn’t own any pride stuff. Very closeted, but not at all (if you get way I mean). Jayce is just comfortable with himself and doesn’t need to prove anything to others when it comes to his sexuality. He only tells people when it naturally comes in a conversation.
The only person he flat out said “yeah I’m bi” was when Cait came out to him. He wanted her not to feel alone and that she had a friend she could relay on.
The way you found out he was bi was so mundane. You were talking about a popular actor that was in a lot of action movies back when you were kids.
“Since I was a teenager all the other guys said that he was cool, but I only really liked him because he was hot.”
“Wait! You like boys and girls?”
“Y-Yeah—” He sheepishly placed a hand on the back of his neck, blush on his cheeks. And that quickly turned into a form of panic. What if you were disappointed, or even disgusted by that? Will you break up with him over it? “If you don’t feel comfortable with that I totally understand—”
“I like girls too! And boys!” You both held hands and skipped in a circle out of bi joy.
He always kisses you hello and goodbye! He likes PDA but isn’t the type to be literally fucking you in public. He holds your hand and gives you gentle kisses. Also whenever you go out he makes sure to walk on the side of traffic. And makes you stand close to his chest when you’re in line.
I belive that the college you go to is close to his home, and his mom comes over on the weekends to his dorm. Brings treats over and cooks for Viktor and Jayce to last them the week. Very mama bear
The first time Ximena saw you was in early Saturday morning. You stayed over after finishing a project, it was too late to go back to your dorm and you slept over. You woke up to the smell of coffee. Jayce still sleeping at your side like a rock. You dragged yourself out of bed in one of Jayce’s big t-shirts and some fuzzy socks he bought for you.
“Oh! Who is this pretty girl?!” You heard a kind voice express. You saw a tall and gorgeous woman cooking at the stove. From the pictures Jayce showed you it was Ximena Talis, his mom!
Viktor was sitting in the counter stuffing his face with pancakes. “That’s Jayce’s girlfriend, Mrs. Talis.”
“My Jayce has a girlfriend!”
She made her way to you drying her wet hands on her apron. She gave you the biggest hug and you giggled at her boldness.
“I’m Ximena Talis, Jayce’s mom! But you can call me Ximena.” She cupped your face in her hands and gave your cheeks a squeeze. Looking over your features lovingly then stepping away slightly to look at the rest of you.
“You’re a cutie! ¡Y mira esas curvas que tienes! (And look at your curves!)”
She placed her palms on your wide hips, and felt them over her son’s shirt.
“Wow, okay—” You heard Viktor choke on his coffee.
“Mom! What are you doing? That’s embarrassing!” Jayce was beyond frustrated of his mom’s actions. 
“Jayce Antony Talis! When were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend?!
“We only started dating a few months ago and—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Jayce! Come here my dear! Let’s get you some breakfast before he lets you go hungry.” She dragged you back to the stove and hugged you by the shoulders. And it was the most delicious hug you’ve had in a while.
“Mamá, don’t suffocate her please!” Jayce took a seat next to Viktor that was silently recording this shit show for his private Snapchat stories.
“Oh, shush! So do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?” She petted your cheek lovingly.
“Can I have both?” You asked with puppy eyes.
“You are just like my Jayce!” Her eyes twinkled as she prepared a plethora of pancakes for all of you.
In Arcane, the Talis house is know for their toolmaking. In this Modern AU his family owns a small chain of workshops and supply stores. They specialize in welding and power-tools.
He brings you all the time to his families original workshop and makes steel flowers and trinkets for you.
Has a full skin care routine. One for day time and night time. Does face masks a few times a week for hydration and sun protection because of baseball practice. Always wears sunscreen! And applies multiple times a day.
Also loves smelling good for you. He was a pretty nice selection of perfumes. Jayce seems to be more inclined to sweeter and less overpowering types of smells. Doesn’t like to have the type of cologne that literally envelopes the room in a smoky way. Likes perfumes that blend well and you have to stand close to have a good whiff.
His a big boy! And eats a lot to keep up with his hours of exercise and studying. Totally the kind of guy that downed all his meal points and is left eating leftovers in the final semester months.
Jayce will literally lick the plate clean with whatever you cook. Buys you all the ingredients before hand like a gentleman. Once ate a whole batch of brownies you made and you were utterly disgusted by him.
“Jayce, I may be a fat ass but I will never pull this shit. This is inhumane and worrisome.”
“But they were so good. I couldn’t resist!” He wiped the crumbs off his face and sucks his fingers clean.
“Good enough that you didn’t let me have at least one?!”
You guys also like to try out new recipes together. And by try I mean Jayce burning his share and you ordering food after his disaster in the kitchen.
Since becoming partners you spend a lot of time in their dorm and each one of you takes turns making a fresh batch of cookies for the week. Viktor is a master baker, so when it’s his turn to make cookies they are gone before the end of the week. Jayce is an ass and just buys Oreos, gaslights Viktor and you into thinking they’re “gourmet” or some shit.
Viktor is his keeper. If you want to do anything with Jayce you need to ask Viktor for permission.
“Can I have him for tonight, Vicky?”
“Absolutely not! We have Great British Bake Off tonight. Who is going to help me rank the dishes from worst to best if he is not here?”
“Every time it feels like I’m in the 1800 asking for a hand in marriage even though I just want to go get ice cream with Jayce!” You groaned at Viktor’s response.
“Ice cream? I will allow it if you get me a scoop of strawberry.”
“Thank you great king Viktor! Your prince will be moderately safe in my hands.” You bowed your head like a knight in a castle asking for the princess hand.
Jayce is a total cuddle bug! His favorite spot to snuggle up is the couch. Likes having your back pressed against his chest with your legs tangled with his while playing video games or watching movies. Jayce is the little spoon all the way when you’re in his bed. Likes his hair to be played with while he has his head on your chest.
He wears hoochie daddy shorts! Those super tiny shorts were you can see his boxers peaking out the legs. You love how they make his thick thighs and ass look plump and juicy.
“I told you not to wear these in public.” You disrespectfully grabbed his ass. Enjoying the fullness in your palms. “You know what that ass does to me. Makes me want to hump you!” You proceeded to hump his leg and bark at the same time.
“Babe, stop! We are in public for Gods sake!” Jayce pushed on your shoulders trying to get you off his leg.
“Then you shouldn’t be asking for it!”
He traces your stretch marks when you are alone together in bed! The ones on your belly are so especial to him. His hands are big and warm and they feel so good on the fresh ones you get.
He also has stretch marks! Mainly on his arms and glutes. You call them his tiger stripes.
Grows out his beard and hair after his second year. His work load tripled and doesn’t have much time to trim them. You absolutely love his new look!
“Kissing you feels like eating a carpet! I love it.”
“You’re sure a weirdo, babe!”
You always make time to go to his baseball games. He throws you kisses and winks before each batting section as a form of good luck. Jayce is an amazing hit, and always starts and finishes with a breathtaking home run.
He looks incredible in his white and blue uniform. And that ass of his looks delightfully plump in his dirty white jeans. You always bring binoculars to just stare at him instead of watching the game.
Got badly injured in game because one guy of the opposite team kicked his knee in while touching base. His injury was so severe that he was recommended to quit it all together and has to wear a knee brace for the rest of his life.
Started getting bad scores and even was about to loose his sponsorship because of his mental health after the incident. Started drinking shortly after to quell the pain. He completely spiraled out of control.
“I-I don’t know how I am anymore. I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’m worthless.” He came to your dorm room late one night. He had been drinking enough that his true emotions started swallowing him up.
“Jayce, don’t say that—” He launched into your arms, shaking in hurt as his tears stained your top “If you were all those things you said then you wouldn’t have all these people backing you up. You are loved Jayce. I love you.”
“Then why do I feel like this? Like I want everything to burn and collapse?”
“Because it’s unfair what you are going through. So cry and breakdown all you want. I’ll be here to dry your tears and help you stand.”
“Thank you, my love.”
“No problem, baby.”
Jayce has always suffered from depression and suicidal thoughts since the passing of his father. So you felt like you would have lost him of it wasn’t for the support you guys gave him. Viktor with his crazy science hypothesis and projects. And you with your emotional support.
“If you ever want to talk I’m right here, Jayce. And if you don’t want to talk, then let me be the shoulder you can cry on.”
“Only if you promise me to help me get my chemistry grade up.”
“I wouldn’t say no even if the world burned down.”
He started becoming his self again, getting amazing grades and taking care of himself. Saving his beared and cutting his hair (noooooo).
Jayce seems like the guy that likes to keep busy, so since he doesn’t have any sports to keep him hands on he takes up more artsy activities. Since he is familiar working with metal, Jayce starts doing woodwork and pottery.
You introduced him to pottery when you surprised him with a couples class to make matching mugs. You have never seen him smile like that since the injury! The mug you molded looked like a kindergartener made it but Jayce liked it so much that it’s his number 1 coffee cup.
The pottery class impacted him so much that he bought all the materials online and started his own little studio. Gives out all his little creations to his friends. Heimer even has a pencil holder in his office that Jayce made him.
Jayce is the only one of your friend group how has a car, it’s an old beat up red Toyota Corola with one of the doors colored blue. That car was where Cait and Vi first had their kiss after Jayce picked them up drunk from a party. The car takes seconds to start and everyone cheers when the engine runs. You and Jayce go every other weekend to the beach that is a few minutes from campus and have a picnic. Is the car where Viktor fell out the window because Jayce was doing donuts in the Burger King parking lot and he was sitting on the window opening.
Your favorite thing to do is going midnight snack runs! Almost 1 in the morning and you hear a knock on your door and there is Jayce in his pajamas. Shaking his keys in his fingers.
“You want some McDonald’s?”
“Let me put my bra on.”
You also go grocery shopping together. And Viktor tags along sitting inside of shopping cart.
Let’s you decorate his knee brace with cute stickers! I mentioned in my Viktor headcanons that Jayce likes Sanrio characters, especially Pompompurin. So if you have any Sanrio stickers he wants them on his brace.
Jayce likes to collect miniature things. And is very into Japanese / Asian culture. He was totally a Pokémon and Gundam kid when growing up. Still has all his old figurines and has some in his dorm room.
Jayce was raised by a single mom almost his whole life, so he was into some very “girly” things at a young age. Likes to bake (even if everything he cooks turns out a little burnt) and garden, going shopping and keeping up with his hygiene. He never had a “boy smelling room”. Imagine him going to another boy’s dorm for a group project and him being utterly disgusted by the man smell.
Since then he keeps to his own, and ever goes to another’s dorm room except yours and Cait’s.
He runs a tight ship and does all in his power to keep everything clean. Viktor is a little on the messier side than Jayce. They get into petty arguments all the time thanks to one of Jayce’s house rules.
“Viktor you aren’t supposed to put wooden kitchens utensils in the washing machine! And what did I tell you about not taking out the potatoes out of the plastic? They will get bad quicker!” He was like a desperate house wife. You and Viktor were playing video games when he just went off ranting.
“Jayce, I want a divorce.” You slapped Viktor’s shoulder and crackled at Jayce’s flustered face.
“I’m not going to let you!”
He doesn’t like the cold at all. He and his mom got into a bad car accident in a snow storm and it took a rescue team almost 4 hours to get them out of the freezing cold. He got bad hypothermia and his mom lost her fingers.
“Jayce if you make me put another sweater on you will have to roll me out to get me to class.”
“Then you shouldn’t have put only one on. You were trying to be sneaky.”
“I have a nice layer a fat on me! If I put too much clothes on I’ll suffocate!”
“I don’t care! I just want my lady to be warm. Now which one do you want? Blue or black?”
“Jesus, help me so I don’t suffer from a heat stroke in December—”
His favorite part of your body is your hips, how plush and soft they fit in his hands. Loves to hold your hips when he hugs you and when you’re walking beside him. Jayce goes crazy for your tummy / muffin top. When you sit down his eyes immediately go to your middle. And if you wear a short body-con skirt that highlights the crest of your belly he will go feral and all gushy.
And if you have wide shoulders consider this man whipped. He finds women with strong shoulders incredibly sexy. Jayce also has big shoulders and it feels like he has something in common with you. Likes to give you hand massages on them. Calls you his “tough lady”.
I like to think that Jayce grew up more on the chubby side and was teased for it. And then he had an amazing glow up. Because Jayce has too much personality for a tall, handsome man! And he would have been such a cutie as a baby too! Really big and chunky, and also super long.
Ximena brought his baby pictures over one time and you saw that he had a massive head. You teased him over it and now he gets embarrassed when you bring it up.
When you get angry or sassy at him Jayce gets very sad! Like a kicked pup. He just stands in front of you with glossy eyes and a quivering lip. You don’t stay mad at him for long.
Even with his knee injury Jayce is very athletic. He likes doing handstands and cartwheels to impress you. He likes to annoy you and do walking handstands. Likes follow you around with his legs in the air and hands on the ground as you do chores.
“Is this your mating dance, Jaybe?”
“Is it working?”
“Ehh, you’re getting there. Get me the extra dish soap from the pantry and maybe I’ll take my pants off.”
“On it!” And you saw him scurry off still in his handstand before you could say anything else. He will have a massive headache later.
Since you started dating Jayce you also got adopted by his friends group. And you have girls night with Cait, Vi, and Sevika. Which means you and Cait sitting on the couch with face masks on drinking margaritas while Sevika and Vi beat the hell out of each other with their boxing gloves. Jayce and Viktor try to bribe the girls with snacks, it always works.
“Boys, get out it’s girls night!”
“But we want to watch Legally Blonde and get our toes painted!” Jayce pushed the door as Cait put all her weight on it.
“We order pizza.” Viktor yelled on the other side.
Vi gasped. “Cupcake, let them in!”
“What the hell! I’m also painting your finger nails as retribution.” You patted the empty space next you on the sofa and Viktor sat down. You pulled out the box of nail polish. “What color, V?”
“I want mine in purple.”
“Blue for me, babe!” Jayce sat on the ground between your legs, resting his back on the sofa cushions.”
Definitely steals your clothes! He will go through your closet in front of you with no shame and pick out want ever he likes. He makes sure to leave some of his fresh laundry so you can wear his stuff too.
If you ever heard of “Walk a Mile in Her Shoes” is a foundation / fundraiser for women who have suffered from various types of abuse. And they have an anual walk where people, mostly men, walk in heels for a mile to show their support for the women in their life. And he participates every year and you cheer him on!
It would be so fun if Sevika and Vi walked with him! And they all are trying to support each others balance but Vi keeps twisting her ankle every so often, so both Sevika and Jayce have one of her arms around their shoulders as they carry and drag her feet off the ground.
“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” You yelled as you watched them struggle to get to the finish line.
“I think I don’t want my rights anymore!” Sevika ran bow legged as she passed you. Jayce hiding his pain with a forced smile.
They decided to make a run for it to finish first and it ended up with Sevika’s lip busted, Vi with a bruised foot and Jayce with his hands and knees all scraped.
Jayce overall is such an amazing person! Complex and utterly devoted to you. He makes you dream of an endless future with positivity and love.
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xiaq · 2 days ago
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Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.
Good evening. I’m angry.
Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.
But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.
In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).
ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.
Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.
So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.
Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.
So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).
Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.
IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.
Jesus Christ.
B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.
Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.
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unnecessaryportmanteaus · 15 hours ago
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Right now, 17 and 18 are the most important to me. A lot of the rest have already begun happening, or have long been common place. Just like 9/11 paved the way for a massive erosion of the rights of Americans in my youth, I'm sure we'll see something similar in the coming days.
Let's make no bones about it, Trump never intends to leave office while he's alive, and he'll commit whatever theatrics he has to to make sure there's never another free election. That's the thing to look out for I think, the theatrics that have real consequences for those that don't toe the party line.
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my-castles-crumbling · 1 day ago
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first dance - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 319
“So,” James said cheerfully, plopping down on the couch next to Sirius and jostling him from his position. “Still in a mood?”
Immediately, Sirius screwed his face up into a grimace, intending on insisting that he was not in a mood. But the fact of the matter was he’d already yelled at James three times that day, so he didn’t really have a leg to stand on, so instead he folded his arms like a petulant child and frowned. “Why?”
“Because if you’re done screaming at me, maybe we can talk about what’s got you in such a stop,” James replied lightly, sending him a smirk.
“I…” Sirius sighed, looking away. He knew what had upset him. He’d been in a great mood until he’d heard the rumor: Marlene had heard from Mary who had heard from Alice who had heard from Frank who had heard from Peter who had heard from Evan who had heard from Pandora who had heard from Lily that Remus had bought flowers to ask someone to the Yule Ball. And even though the thing he and Remus had was a secret, he was still more than put out that Remus had decided to spend the ball with someone other than him, if only as friends. 
So yeah, he was pissed. “I’m fine,” he lied, jaw set, and looked down.
“Okay,” James nodded placatingly. “If you’re fine…I suppose you don’t need these, then?”
And as Sirius looked over, the other boy pulled a bouquet of white roses from his bag, a smug grin on his face. “I’ve been told to deliver them, but I can just…” 
Sirius snatched them away as James pretended to throw them into the nearby fireplace.
“Prick,” he murmured as he opened the attached card, heart thrumming in his chest.
But when he read the note, he couldn’t help but grin.
S- Save the first dance for me, yeah? -R
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eunoiiz · 3 days ago
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☁︎—enhypen reassuring you about your relationship
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☁︎synopsis—enhypen comforting you about their love for you₊˚ෆ
☁︎genre—hurt/comfort. enhypen hyung line x reader.₊˚ෆ
☁︎warning—crying. idk mentions of cheating or whatever. swearing. intended lowercase. not proofread. wc(range)˚˚˚300—500 each.₊˚ෆ
☁︎kassiddi's note—trying a headcannon!! or whatevs it's called i forgot… might do a maknae line !! but for now i decided to do something to upload (so it's rushed) and i also didn't know how to properly title this.₊˚ෆ
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ʚɞ—lee heeseung˚˚˚
hearing from a handful of your friends that heeseung was cheating on you was not taken lightly to heart. your heart sank, throat stung and eyes began to fill with tears as your ears rang.
you never believed the “playboy” rumors since you met him, and he'd always denied them when people approached him and accused him of cheating on his exes. you believed him over these 3 months.
you turned around, heading for the office to call in sick, when you saw him. them. heeseung's face just inches away from one of the girls you'd thought was his ex.
you ran for the office, dropping your backpack to shed off some weight. you didn't have anything important in it, anyway.
the sound of running behind you soon after caused you to attempt to enter the girls restroom, but you didn't make it as the steps were faster. the person spun you around.
“what the fuck do you want heeseung?!” you shouted through streams of tears, trying to get him off you. “please, let me explain.” “what the fuck is there to explain? everyone was right about you, hee!” you ignored his pleas, releasing yourself from his grip and beginning to storm into the ladies restroom out of frustration.
“i’m not cheating on you, y/n, please believe me.” he begged, rambling as fast as possible before you walked too far into the bathroom to hear.
“then what was that, heeseung? how can you explain how close you were to miyeon, and all the rumors?” you wiped away your tears. “it wasn't anything y/n—” “it seemed like you were about to kiss her to me.” you couldn't face the male.
“i was angry with her y/n, i couldn't stand the rumors she was spreading and wanted to confront her before they got to you and made you like.. this.” he explained, trying to reassure you. but you weren't so sure, at all. you didn't know if you could believe him.
“she's been wanting me back since i broke up with her, and she's spread these rumors from the beginning. i’ve never cheated on anyone. please believe me, baby.” sincerity tainted his voice, and painted his face when you finally turned back around to look at him.
“do you promise? how do i know i can trust you?” your voice shook, the uncertainty remained. “i promise, love, please. miyeon was my first girlfriend, y/n. the crazy one i told you about. she hasn't changed. i’ll so anything to make you believe me.”
your heart rate slowed, although you still weren't sure you could trust him again.
“i’ll try to believe you hee.” you mumbled, allowing him to caress your check, using his thumb to swipe away your tears. “thank you, doll. i promise i'll prove my love to you, a hundred—no, a thousand times if i have to.”
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ʚɞ—park jongseong˚˚˚
“y/n, i heard around that jay is just using you to get back at his ex, but im not sure. i hope it's false but i wanted to let you know, sorry.” jisung whispered into your ear while passing by during lunch, smiling apologetically at you.
you smiled back, though it quickly fell. deciding to confront your boyfriend before class started, you hurried eating. you were torn between anger and sadness.
you checked the time, 15 minutes until the bell rang. enough time to call his ass out, in private though.
your eyes searched the cafeteria, eventually landing on a blonde male, the best friend of your boyfriend, and your boyfriend right next to him.
standing up, tray in hand, you tossed it into the nearby trash, proceeding toward the man.
“up. we need to talk.” “wha—” “now.” you forced him up, tugging him by his hoodie sleeve into a more secluded area.
“what's this about, my love?” he questioned, a puzzled look plastered all over his face while he stood with his arms crossed.
“don't act so stupid with me, jongseong. you had me here loving you for months because i really thought you loved me but your only with me because you wanna make your ex jealous? what the hell?” you ranted, infuriated.
“woah, bae, slow down. what?” he quizzed, you could tell he was genuinely confused but you were too angry to take time to let him even breathe. “you know exactly what i mean, stop doing that.”
“y/n, slow down. you know im not like that, my love. who told you this?” he placated. “jisung! he's a distant friend, but i trust him! and he's not even the first person who I've heard this from. i think he got it from hyunjin, or leeseo, or maybe even minhee! it's just been going around too much and—” “darling…” he trailed off, silence taking over for ten seconds.
“you realize all of the people you just named don't even like you, right?” his hand reached for yours.
“oh.. well, still?...” you muttered, glancing away. your face heated, feeling a bit dumb but still unsure. “how do i know you aren't with me for that, though?”
“let's go talk to jisung first, okay? clear up somethings and ill come over later, darling. i love you.”
he interlinked your hands, “i love you too, seong.”
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ʚɞ—sim jaeyun˚˚˚
you've never been able to get over the crush you've had on jake since you were little, but you also couldn't bring yourself to confess either.
“thank you, jakey!” a girl’s voice sounded through the halls.
turning the corner, you watched as the girl released her grip on his forearm and gave him a tight hug before he sent her off into the classroom. you hated that, such a small thing.
but it didn't feel right to feel so angry, he wasn't even yours.
you figured it would be better if you headed off to your own class, and tried to forget about it so you’d feel better. lunch was after one more period.
maybe he could hang out with his new girlfriend that he hadn't even told you about, and you'll spend lunch with someone else.
when the bell rang, you packed up as quickly as possible, not wanting to encounter them again. even though you still caught a glimpse of them on your way to your next class.
“y/n—” “in a hurry!” you spewed, speeding down the hall and past the couple, you did not want an introduction to his new girlfriend. you wanted to be his new girlfriend for years, but those chances seemed like zero.
so once again, when the bell rang, you made sure to pack up as quickly as possible. but when you stepped outside, you saw a face you didn't want to at that moment.
“oh, think i left something in my last class, jake! you should head to lunch—” “what's up with you? i've been trying to introduce you to my cousin! she's 2 grades behind us, i was hoping you were okay with helping me show her around, y/n. you could've said you weren't.” jake explained.
holy, did you feel stupid?
“..cousin?” you were stunned, internally killing yourself. “yes? why? someone jealous?” he smirked, obviously teasing but you might as well spill it.
“yes, actually.. i thought she was your girlfriend and i thought my chances with you were gone and—” a peck, another, another, and another that turned into a longer kiss.
“i thought you didn't feel the same, pretty.”
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ʚɞ—park sunghoon˚˚˚
“y/n, would you help me with something?” sunghoon called you over. “yeah, what is it?” you stood up, walking over to his desk and pulling up a chair right next to his.
“this is a confession letter! im giving it to yuna, i just need to go over the grammar and decorate it a bit—”
“confession letter?” your brows furrowed, jealousy starting to build up inside of you. “uhm, yeah! can i get that help?” he asked, holding the card out in front of your face.
“oh, yes of course, should i go over the grammar?” he nodded. you flipped open the card, the corners decorated in pink bows, the edges lined in pink glitter and the i’s dotted in hearts. you wanted to rip up the card, a bit overwhelmed by jealousy.
“i would like to be your valentine…. mmmm.. you're the most stunning girl I've ever seen…. i’ve had feelings for you for so long..” you read aloud as sunghoon watched your expression. “seems all good to me, i also didn't know you could decorate like this, hoon.” you caressed the bows, all the things you loved drawn into a card—that wasn't for you.
“only the best for who i love, right?” he smiled, taking back the card.
“right.. anything else?” you tried to keep your composure, not wanting to spill all your emotions out to your best friend who didn't seem to feel the same.
“yes can you help with this envelope? i need to decorate it and sign it. mind using these glitter pens? oh and make sure to add the bows in the corners!” he exclaimed, turning to his laptop and focusing on a level he'd been trying to be on his game.
a couple moments later and you slip the card into the pastel envelope. “there.” you slid it across the desk. “perfect, she's gonna love it.” he smiled proudly. “you're the best, n/n.”
“mhm. you never told me you had a crush, hoon?” your eyes never left the card, neatly tucked into the envelope. it bothered you so much and you couldn't shake that feeling.
“well, i actually wanted to tell you after i handed yuna the card, but i guess there's no point now.” he scratched his nape, then reached toward his mini shelf and between books.
he pulled out another card, decorated similarly. “no kidding, hoon. why have me help make a card look all pretty for her and then tell me you liked her? and for so long?” you were so upset, but you didn't want that to show.
“liked her? ….yuna? oh, no stupid. this is for jake! he had soccer practice so he wanted help with a confession card, because valentine's day's tomorrow and he didn't think he'd have enough time.” sunghoon explained, the other card in his other hand, sliding it towards you.
“read this, y/n.” you picked up the card, opening the envelope and then the card.
‘dear y/n, i’ve had feelings for you for so long and could never tell if you felt the same, but i wanna ask you now, would you be my valentine? you're the most wonderful girl and i’m so lucky to have you. (hopefully) you're future boyfriend, sunghoon’
“oh my gosh, sunghoon. i hate you so much.” you smiled to yourself, taking a moment to take it in. “so.. is that a no?” he joked, laughing. “no you idiot, i’d love to be your valentine, and future girlfriend.”
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thank you for reading♡ i appreciate any interaction with my writing, i just do it for fun(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
please do not steal or repost on any platform. i only publish these to tumblr under the username eunoiiz.
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keikikait · 16 hours ago
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ʙᴀʙʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
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pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 4.8k
summary: you're just one of his many conquests, so why does he need you?
warnings: ANGST, friends with benefits, mild yearning/pining, rafe cannot handle his emotions, ward mention, slight jealous!reader, not proofread
a note: idk if i ate. i'm sorry that it's a little short. :( also, my stalker!rafe fic needs SERIOUS work, so i decided to upload this instead. i am very unhappy with it.
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
Sometimes you think you aren’t meant to be loved. 
It’s almost comical, the way you just sit there and take it. The way you let him walk all over you, taking bites out of you just to toss you aside for later. He cut off slices of you when he needed, never taking the full thing. Always little samples, just to keep you hooked. He would chew you up and spit you out, and you would always come crawling back.
You watch as Rafe dresses himself, eyes landing on his ass as he pulls up his boxers. He always dresses so quickly, not even handing you a towel as he paces around your room, gathering his things. At first, you thought he just didn’t like your apartment. You were a Pogue, after all, even though you were lucky enough to move to a nicer area of The Cut. You spent a lot of time redecorating, trying to make it a little bit nicer. A little bit cleaner. Anything to get him to stay.
Your apartment was small. Cozy. Quaint. 
It reeks of you. And that’s why Rafe won’t stay.
Rafe turns around, catching your eye. He can’t help the small smile that stretches across his lips as he pulls his jeans on. “Admiring the view?”
“For as long as I can.” You say.
Your response surprises him, and his eyes widen just slightly. He stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact. “You’re too sweet for your own good.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his socks on.
“I wish you would stay.” You mumble, aching to reach out and touch him. But you don’t.
“I know you do,” Rafe sighs, tying his shoes on. “But I can’t, sweetheart. You know that.”
“I do.” Your voice is soft.
“So why do you keep asking me to stay?” It comes out angrier than he intended. But maybe you needed that.
“I…” You swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
“My answers always no. Why do you keep askin’?” Rafe stands, grabbing his wallet and keys off of the bedside table. “Shit’s starting to piss me off.”
“I’m sorry.” You say, sitting up, holding the duvet to your chest. You feel like you’re always telling him that. 
“Quit being sorry. Just stop fucking asking it,” He turns to face you. “Jesus. It’s not that hard.”
You don’t know what to say. You nod, looking down.
Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can’t deny, he loves when you look like that. Sad. Vulnerable. It drives him wild. His gaze lands on your neck, bruised and marked by his teeth. Possession looks good on you, He often thinks. 
But that was it. He could only take so much of your submission. He couldn’t take you asking him to stay, too.
“I won’t ask again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, still avoiding his gaze.
His jaw tightens and he stares at you. He wants to take you and claim you. To show you were his, and only his. But he didn’t want to keep you. Why would he? “Good.” Rafe walks around the bed and stands in front of you. He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing it up. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”
You nod, looking up at him, mascara still smeared on your under eyes. 
Rafe studies your face. God, you always looked so beautiful like this. Broken and upset. The sight had him wanting to take and claim you all over again. But the look of submission in your eyes makes him want to push you even more. “You look pretty like this.” He murmurs, pushing your neck to the side and looking at the hickeys on your neck. “It suits you.”
“Thank you.” You say, although you don’t like it. You didn’t like this version of you, the pathetic girl who would do anything and everything for one iota of his attention; but it got him into your arms, so that’s really all that matters.
“I wonder why that is? Why you look so pretty when you’re crying?” His fingers lightly trace over your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows that it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. You were addicted to him, craving his attention more than you craved anything else. You’d take whatever he gave you. That was the only thing Rafe loved about you.
“Because my lips get all pouty, and my eyes get all red?” You guess, resisting the urge to lean into his palm.
Rafe almost laughs at your answer. It was cute. “Hmm,” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently brushing them. “Yeah, probably.” His eyes meet yours, staring at your face. You were so easy to break. So easy to control. You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no fight or protest. Just endless submission. It was addicting.
You’re getting restless. “Have any plans today?”
Rafe’s hand falls from your face, and his jaw tightens. You always did this. You always try to make small talk, try to create some type of emotional connection between you, even though you knew deep down that he didn't give a shit about you or about your day. “Yeah. I do.” He picks his jacket up from the bed. “Have to go visit my dad's lawyer. Then I’m meeting some friends.”
“That sounds fun,” You say, although meeting with Ward’s lawyer must have something to do with life insurance. “Uh, being with your friends later, I mean.”
“Yeah.” He mutters, shrugging his jacket on. He grabs his keys from the bedside table and glances at you. It’s hard, watching you try to connect to him. He knows that you want more than this. You want to be his girlfriend. You want the world to know you’re his. 
But that couldn’t happen. And you knew that.
“Are you, um…” You shift on the bed, the duvet falling just a little bit. “Are you gonna come back over tonight?”
Rafe glances at you, eyes falling to the duvet. God, he loved how you were always trying to keep him around. He loved watching you try and fail to keep his attention. He lets out a deep breath, running a hand over his buzzed head. “Do you want me to?” He already knows your answer.
“Only if you want to,” You say, trying to not come across as even clingier than you already are. “You know my door’s always open for you.”
He sighs and rolls his eyes. You were always so predictable. So needy. So willing. He starts to wonder when he'll get sick of it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He grunts, picking his phone up off of the bedside table and shoving it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet. Might be with Sofia tonight.”
Your soft smile drops, just for a second, and you hope Rafe doesn’t notice.
Sofia.
Sofia?
Who the hell is Sofia?
You knew everyone he hung out with. Every girl. You had tabs on all of them, shamefully. You didn’t know who the hell Sofia was. Had you missed someone? How had she managed to slip through the cracks?
Under the covers, you dig your nails into your thigh. You had to act casual, as normal as you could be. You were always treading thin ice with him, and you couldn’t risk losing him over this. Your smile returns and you give him a nod. “Cool. Just text me.”
Rafe watches as your smile falters for a moment. He knows it. He knows that you’re jealous. There was no way that you weren't. It didn’t take much to make you jealous. He could make one passing comment about a girl, and you’d spend the rest of the day worrying, wondering who she was. That's why he brought up Sofia, and why he always mentions his other girls to you. Something about the idea of you laying in bed, terrified and anxious to lose him, really excited him.
He smirks as you quickly regain composure, knowing that he got to you. “Yeah. I’ll text you.” He says, turning to leave.
“Drive safe.” You say.
He stops as he stands in the doorway. Something about you telling him to drive safe always made him… feel guilty. It was that damn softness you always had and used against him. He glances at you over his shoulder, swallowing whatever sentiment he was feeling. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
You hate Sofia.
After a bit of sleuthing, logged into one of your many burner accounts, you finally find her. She’s a Pogue, like you, and for some reason you find that it stings more. She’s gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, the sweetest girl around, and you fucking hate her.
Rafe had a roster. A rotation, the same few girls on repeat until he got bored, where he would swap a few out for fresh meat. You don’t know how you managed to stay on the roster for this long, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe Rafe thought you had another guy out there, filling your cunt and your bed when he was gone, but you didn’t. You’re too busy being Rafe’s to fall for somebody new.
You used to not care about the other girls. The more and more he mentioned them, though, you got curious. You started looking them up on Instagram, stalking their profile through burners and analysing every post. Every story. None of the girls ever looked like you. None of the girls were like you at all. Why did he like them, and why did he like you?
You wonder if he treats the other girls as poorly, or if in some twisted way, you’re special. You could handle being the only girl that Rafe treated like shit if that meant you stood out to him in some way. You wonder if he fills their necks with hickies, too, if he grips their hips too hard and leaves bruises, if he spanks them until his handprints form welts on your ass cheeks.
You hoped to God you were special.
You tried to distract yourself, running errands and tidying your apartment, but you kept thinking about him. About his stupid baby blue eyes, and his stupid pretty face, and his stupid hands and the way they felt around your neck. You didn’t want to be in love with Rafe fucking Cameron, but you feared you were already in too deep, and soon you would drown, falling below the surface, hand outstretched, hoping just this once that he would pull you up.
You sit on your bed, in the dark and the silence, staring at your phone, waiting for it to light up. Waiting for him to text you, to need you.
The hours pass. Midnight. One and two. Three. Before four o'clock rolls around, you still have nothing. You know that you should just give up and go to bed. He probably passed out at his friends’ place, too drunk and too tired to text you, but you keep telling yourself that he's just busy. That he's gonna wake up any moment now and shoot you a text. 
You're praying that something happens, that something keeps you up and keeps you waiting for those messages that you know he most likely won't send. You want him to finally fucking want you in the way that you want him. You didn’t like feeling this way, it wasn’t fun to constantly torture yourself, but is it not fun to feel many other ways? If it wasn’t Rafe, it would just be someone else. Another man, someone else’s son, reminding you that no matter how hard you try, you just aren’t meant to be loved.
Why don’t you do it for him? Why aren’t you enough to get him to stay?
You tap the screen, and it lights up. No new notifications.
“Shit.” You mumble, your hand retreating to your side.
You sigh and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Of course, he isn’t going to text you. Why would he? Why would he do that to you, when he never had before? This is exactly what you expected. This is exactly what he loves. Making you doubt, getting you jealous. It gets him off. It’s a game for him. You were his prey, and he was your predator. 
As you lay, staring at your ceiling, you hear three, quick knocks on your door.
At first, you think you’ve imagined them. You sit up, your feet sliding into your slippers as you pad into the living room. You stand there in silence, in the dark, only listening to your own breathing. You’re about to turn around when there’s another knock, this time loud and pounding against your door.
You cross the rest of the room, undoing the locks and opening the door.
Standing on your doorstep, of course, was Rafe, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. He seems… tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying out late. He glances at you from behind those tired eyes, his gaze falling over your body. He’s taking note of the oversized t shirt you’re wearing, and how your hair is dishevelled and messier than it was before. He could tell you had been lying down. “Can I come in?”
Something's off, you can tell. He’s acting different, even though it’s just subtly. You watch him as he chews on his lip, an anxious habit he didn’t think you noticed. “What’s wrong?”
Rafe’s expression falters for a split second, before he quickly regains his composure. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that you asked him that. He looks over you. “Nothing,” He responds, his voice harsh and biting. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”
You don’t believe him. He normally carries himself with intense confidence and gravitas, so much so it constantly inks into your lungs and chokes you, but this was different. He felt different. “Right.”
He swallows hard, shifting on his feet. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him. Concerned, like you cared. He glances away from you, sighing. “Can I come in?” He repeats his question, eyes flicking between you and your living room.
You nod, stepping aside and holding the door opening, flicking a light switch. One of your lamps turns on, casting a warm, soft glow over your living room.
Rafe strides into your apartment, immediately heading for your couch. Everything in your place was so damn cozy; the warm light, the soft couch, your scent lingering on every single inch of every single surface. He collapses back onto the couch, arms spread out and legs splayed. He runs a hand over his face, swallowing hard.
You sit next to him, and for a while, you two sit in a comfortable silence. You look over at him, pushing some hair behind your ears. Your voice is soft when you finally speak. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Rafe closes his eyes, sighing as you speak. He didn’t want to tell you about Ward. Not when you were like this, so gentle and caring. He was exhausted, to say the least. He was dealing with so much, all at once, and he didn't know what to do. Finally, he looks at you. In this lighting, with your hair messy and your eyes concerned, you looked even more like the sweet girl he always wished you were. Sweet and caring and loving. “Today was my dad's funeral.”
Your shoulders droop, and your eyes soften. You had no idea. He had only mentioned visiting his father’s lawyer to you yesterday morning. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.”
Rafe almost groans. He loved you when you were soft, when you were sweet. He loved it more than he cared to admit, but right now he hated it. He hated it when you were this caring. It made him doubt everything. He glances at you, a lump in his throat. He hated when you looked at him that way. Because he knew that no matter what he did, you would always have that warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. You would always forgive him, no matter what he did.
Part of him wishes his dad could’ve met you.
You reach out and put your hand on his shoulder, trying not to overstep. Rafe stares down at your hand, so small in comparison to his shoulder. Something about it makes his chest tighten. It seems intimate, and he feels… safe. Safe with you. Which is a feeling he hasn't felt in God knows how long. 
His hand slowly lifts, his rough fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brings your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently, back and forth.
God, the feeling of you touching him, comforting him, was too much. Your touch was too gentle and warm, and he hated that he wanted it. He hated the way his chest ached at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He had so many reasons he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be letting you touch him like this, and yet there was something inside of him, a small voice in the back of his mind, constantly begging him to please let you take care of him. “Can I ask you something?”
“‘Course.” You say softly. 
Rafe glances at you, eyes flicking between your hand and your face. God, he hated this. Your touch on his face, the tenderness in your voice, the look in your eyes. It was driving him absolutely insane. His eyes close, as if he was debating if he actually wanted to ask you this. “Am I poison? Am I poison in the water?”
“What do you mean?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.
He opens his eyes again, hand still holding yours to his cheek. He holds your gaze, eyes softening. He hated how vulnerable he was, and yet there was a small piece of him, buried deep inside, that needed it. He could tell you anything right now, and you wouldn't judge him. You would just listen. Care. “Do I… poison everything I touch? Am I the poison that kills everything?”
“No, of course not,” You move closer to him on the couch. “Why would you ask that?”
God, he could smell you, your perfume a subtle, sweet scent that was driving him crazy. He closes his eyes as you move closer, and his jaw tightens. This was insane; he wasn't weak, he wasn't vulnerable, he did not need you. But then again, the hand on yours on his face had yet to move. “Because,” his voice drops to a whisper. “I know that I'm a sick, twisted bastard. I know that I make others sick. I hurt everyone I care about.”
“Rafe, I will admit you aren’t exactly the nicest guy,” You swallow roughly, unsure of what to even say. “But you still have people that care about you. Your friends, your sisters. They know the real Rafe, the guy underneath all the aggression.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath. God, he hated this. He hated being vulnerable. He hated opening up to you, and seeing that look of concern in your eyes. He wants to run, to close you out, leave and forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to treating you like one of his conquests, instead of feeling like he wanted you to hold him. But for some reason, his mouth wasn't listening to his brain. “But what about you?”
“Of course, I care about you,” You say. “I thought that would at least be obvious.”
He had a thousand different replies on the tip of his tongue, but instead his mouth just opened and closed, words dying when they left his lips. Everything in his mind was screaming at him to get up and leave, but there was a deeper part of him, a small piece of himself that he kept buried inside, deep in the back of his mind, that kept whispering, telling him to sit. It was the part that kept his hand on your wrist. He swallows hard, looking away. “I wish my dad was still here.”
“I know,” You say softly. “I’m sorry.”
He felt his eyes begin to sting, something that only added to his frustration. Frustration at himself, for being pathetic enough to cry. Frustration at you, for making him weak enough to cry. Frustration at Ward, for leaving him and his sisters behind. He suddenly hated everything. He hated you. He hated himself. He hated Ward for leaving him with feelings, making him weak. “I don't even know why I came here,” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I just... I wish I could've been good enough for him. I tried to be good.”
“You don’t know how Ward truly felt about you, Rafe.” You say, stroking his cheekbone again.
He hated the way you were comforting him, hated the way you were so gentle with him. He was always on the defensive, on the attack, so when someone was soft with him... Well, the way his chest ached was proof that it was something he wasn't used to. He swallows hard, closing his eyes. “But I do. His actions spoke louder than his damn words ever did,” He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's so stupid, you know, I... I used to pray I’d be like him, do everything that he did. And sometimes I still do.”
“That’s not stupid.” You say.
He lets his hand fall from your wrist, shaking his head. He hated talking about this, he hated admitting how much Ward’s death has messed him up. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to open up to anybody. The words leaving his lips, however, were not his own. “I hate that I don’t know if he was proud of me... I hate that I’ll never know if I did right by him.”
You remove your hand when he goes to cover his face. You watch him for a few moments, unsure of what to do, when you notice his shoulders shake. 
Is he crying?
Your eyes widen when you hear a sob rip through him, shoulders shaking up and down. “Hey, hey, Rafe, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”
He hated crying, absolutely hated it, but there he was, shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. “I’m not even- I…” His voice breaks, chest rattling. He lets out a long, shaky breath, shaking his head as he wipes away the tears from his cheeks. He couldn’t even look at you. He hated feeling so weak. Hated that you were seeing this side of him.
“It’s okay,” You put your arm around him, trying to hug him. “It’s okay--”
Rafe suddenly stands, pushing you back. “No. Don’t… don’t fucking pretend like you care.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, ashamed that he let Ward affect him this much. He was supposed to be strong. Powerful. Not weak.
“I’m not pretending.” You say, standing up.
His jaw tightens, his expression hardening into a sharp glare. God, he was tired of you, of your sweet words, of your gentle smiles. It was messing with his head, playing with his feelings. “Yeah, right.” He mutters, shaking his head. “You don’t care, don’t bullshit me.”
“Of course I care about you, Rafe,” You say, taking a step closer to him. “I… I lov--”
“No!” He suddenly snaps at you. He didn't want to hear that. He couldn't. “Don’t… don’t you dare,” You stare at him, confusion on your pretty little face, and it’s driving him fucking crazy. “Don’t. Don’t tell me. Keep that shit to yourself.”
You don’t know what to say, and you don’t want to upset him even more. You just nod, taking a step back.
He wanted to hit something. He wanted to break something. He hated the sight of that look on your face. The confusion, the worry, the disappointment. He didn’t understand. Why did you care? He didn’t deserve it, not one bit. What the hell did you think you’d get out of loving someone like him? That he’d love you back? That he’d change for you?
The silence is deafening. You want to say something, you just don’t know what. You take a shaky breath. “I’m here for you, Rafe. You know that. In any way you need me.”
“Why?” He asks suddenly, eyes meeting yours. “Why are you still here for me? Why do you care about me so goddamn much? Why can’t you just give up on me, like everyone else has?”
“Do I look like everyone else?” You ask.
Oh, but that was the problem. You were different. You were the only person in that damn town who was as sweet as you were patient. Who cared so god-damn much about someone so undeserving of that love. “Don’t you think I know that?” He asks, voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you think it pisses me off that you are the way you are?”
“I just want you to be happy, Rafe, and if I can make you happy, I want to.” You say.
Why did you have to be so goddamn sweet? It was driving him mad, the way you stood there, so willing and eager to do whatever it took to help him. He let out a long, shaky breath, staring down at you. “It was different when you were just some girl I was hooking up with.” He says, shaking his head.
“I’m still that girl,” You insist. “Nothing has to change. We can go back to normal. Forget this ever happened.”
His eyes narrow as you speak. He hated that you said that, hated how willing you were to forget the fact that he cried in front of you, and yet he hated himself for the fact that he almost wanted to agree. “Really?” He asks, his voice sharp. “You’d just… forget this? Go back to letting me use you, like nothing happened?”
“If that’s what you want.” You say.
He hated the idea of that. The idea of going back to using you. Of treating you like trash when he knew that you cared so damn much. 
Part of him liked hurting you, like watching you fall apart at his hands. But it was the other side of him that hated how good it felt at first, hated the pit of shame in his chest that grew each time you begged him to stay, or cried while he left, or looked at him like he meant the world to you.
Part of him knew you deserved better.
Rafe sighs, looking away. “Fine. We forget about this.”
“Okay.” You say, nodding.
The fact that you didn't say anything, that you didn't fight back, made his chest ache. God, he hated this. He wanted to yell at you. Wanted to push you down, pin you to the couch, and make you cry out his name. He wanted you to ask him to stay, fight him to prove to him that you cared. He hated how your willingness to forget it all made him want to wrap his arms around you. He couldn't stay. He would do something risky, something that he would regret in the morning. He sniffles, wiping his eyes again. “I'm gonna go.”
You swallow thickly. “If you’re sure. My door is always open.”
“Yeah,” He replies, his voice hoarse. He hated that your gentleness, your sweetness, still managed to get to him. He steps closer to you. He wanted to touch you again. To feel your warm, soft skin against his palm. But he knew better. He knew that if he touched you, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Thanks for being there.” He mumbles, his voice cracking.
“Of course.” You smile softly.
He hates how your smile makes his chest ache, hates the tug it gives his heart. He hated how he cared about you, hated how he was so weak that he allowed himself to open up to you. And God, he hated how he was thinking about kissing your pretty, pouty lips. “I'll be back tomorrow night. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Rafe nods, licking his lips. He rocks back and forth on his feet before reaching out and cupping the back of your head, pressing his lips to your forehead. Enough to keep you hooked. “See you later, sweetheart.”
Your entire body is buzzing. “Drive safe.”
You’re still standing in the same spot when he leaves, shutting the door behind him.
And you will wait for the next time he wants you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
blagh
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flaxen-phoenix · 3 days ago
Text
I used to work as a self checkout attendant for a certain Sammy's Bargain Bastion Boutique during the pandemic in 2020. Because no one was spending cash, we eventually went into a coin shortage. To compensate for this, we turned all the self checkout registers to card only. Now, the thing about SBBB's self checkouts is that when they're card only, they have two key differences:
1: they say "CARD ONLY - NO CASH PAYMENTS - NO CASH BACK" in big, bold white letters on a dark blue background on the title screen. I'm nearsighted to the point where my computer screen, less than elbow length away from my face, is completely illegible. Even I could read it without my glasses, from the opposite corner of the self checkout bullpen.
2: When you scan your first item, it doesn't go right to the item-scanning screen. Instead, it pops up with a dialog box warning you that the register is card only, and the narrator asking "Do you wish to continue?", and you can't scan your second item until you acknowledge the dialog box.
I swear to god I got so many people asking me "Why won't it let me scan my items?", and I had to point them to the dialog box preventing them from scanning any more items. It got to the point where they actually removed the dialog box because nobody would read it.
Naturally, that was even worse.
I had so many customers who didn't read the title screen, would go up to a register intending to pay with cash, and then they get to the payment screen, only to find that it doesn't accept cash.
In most cases, this was a simple fix: I could suspend the transaction and send them to a staffed register, which always accepts cash. The terminal would print out a suspension slip with a barcode on it, and then they could scan it to pick the transaction up at another register, exactly the same as where they left off.
However, I couldn't do this for transactions where part had been paid already.
Cue one customer pulling me aside and asking why he couldn't pay. I tell him the register he's at was card only. He had already paid partially with EBT, so I couldn't suspend the transaction, and there was a line forming for the ONE (1) register that still accepted cash. He only had six items, so I aborted the transaction, and he got in line. He was pretty pissed by that point, but then, four items into his transaction on the new register, he pulls me aside again and asks why his peppers aren't scanning. I scan them properly, first try, and he says "You wanna be a smartass, we'll take this outside".
My boss, meanwhile, was standing at another register, filling it with cash to try and clear the line up. On his way out, he turns to her and says "This place looks like shit, you better clean it up." Once he was out of earshot we both had a good laugh at his expense, though.
never forget the universal rule of the order of things: People Will Not Read It
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