#Has anyone considered giving this guy a break. Like. For a change

[kyouka-supremacy]

— chapter 8 // chapter 119

[uravitypng]

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+

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.

ko-fi <3

[saturnicos]

Giving a bracelet to them

With: Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Lucifer

ps:: reader's gender is not mentioned

. Charlie

She absolutely adores! Extra points if it have some decoration with rainbow.

She'll use all the time, only take off when goes to bed and when goes to take a bath — she is worried if she ends up breaking or losing the pieces, so try to be as careful as possible.

As she organizes and takes care of hotel paperwork she tends to feel stressed, and unconsciously looks at the bracelet, a smile forming and her spirits slightly picking up again. She's really happy with the gift.

"Wait, this's for me? Really? It's so pretty, thank you so very much!"

—

. Alastor

He... Definitely have it.

Like, don't get me wrong, he just not knows how really feel about it since he has never received a gift before from anyone, except from his mother.

Deep inside, he actually likes it! The color scheme matching with his clothes, and it isn't so much decorated and colorful; or how he would like to say, simple things are more pretty.

Alastor isn't using the bracelet frequently, most because he not like that type of accessories so much. He'll probably use when is far from you, like a way to remember of you and stuff (this man don't use phone not even if the world frozen), but in the most of the time the bracelet probably will be in the pocket of his coat.

"What do you have there, my dear? Oh, a bracelet, that's very interesting."

—

. Adam

He... Definitely have it/2.

But it's the opposite.

He's a bitch that will probably mock about it, but will quickly change when you feel upset and try to leave him alone, saying something like "Just joking, Sugartits/Hunk, I actually liked that, give me".

He'll use ALL the time, except when he's going to the extermination.

He will 100% brag about the bracelet to anyone when he gets the chance, saying how you spent your time making gifts for him (he's a complete idiot that loved this thing, but will never admit bc high ego lol).

Lute can't stand him talking about this damn accessory anymore, please, she begs you not to give him anything else.

TOTALLY extra points if it has a guitar pendant.

"Of course you make it for me, after all, you are madly in love with me"

—

. Angel Dust

Now, I think it's important to point out that Angel would act a lot more like Anthony with his S/O.

Using this as a base, he'll be SO happy receiving a gift from you. Obviously, he'll make some dirty joke about it, but deep down he wonders why he received it if it's not a specific date.

This poor boy is emotionally broken, little acts like this make him feel so moved and loved ☹️

Every time that him have a breakdown and isolates himself, Fat Nuggets comfort him, laying next to him and gently plays with the bracelet (or if he isn't using, Fat Nuggets will pick it up and take it to him, as if knowing it is an object of comfort).

"A gift? For me? You're so kind, baby~."

—

. Lucifer

Listen to me: this man would probably feel so much like crying — with joy — and nothing convinces me otherwise.

He'd passed the lasts seven years alone, without any love or compassion, having you in his life it's a great gift for him. Now, receive a gift from someone that he considers his greatest gift? God-

He would also be one of the will use all the time. Seriously, this guy probably don't take it off in any occasion, it's a regular reminder that there is someone else besides Charlie who loves him.

He's so grateful to have you.

Later, he'll make matching necklaces with duck pendants for you, he thinks that's a lovely way to say thanks :)

"What is this, sweetie? Oh... I'll use, that's so beautiful, thank you a lot."

Thank you for read !! I'm so sorry if this is ooc, but I hope it was pleasant anyway :)

[amaranthineghost]

THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.

authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333

HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.

he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.

it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.

it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.

the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.

it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.

it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.

he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.

even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.

he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.

so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.

and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.

he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.

but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.

and he didn't get to do that all too often.

the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.

with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.

it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?

what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?

unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.

anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.

the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.

he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.

the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.

she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.

since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.

he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.

from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.

she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.

so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.

she had a bomb to defuse after all.

the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.

his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.

max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.

his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.

the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.

when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.

at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.

his dad.

their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.

“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.

she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.

part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.

and he would always let her in.

she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.

she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.

“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.

he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”

“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”

“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.

she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.

“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”

she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.

even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.

she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.

she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.

when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.

when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”

she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.

“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.

his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”

“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.

he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.

“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.

“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.

“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”

she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”

“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”

“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”

she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.

whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.

she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.

all he needed was her and she would always be there.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their main fear in the relationship with you🤍

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

A/N: Soon I will try to deal with your orders! Also soon I will write headcanons about the alphabet with characters!

🤍🤍🤍

Cho Hyun Ju

The girl is very afraid that you will leave her for another, because she is not good enough for you. She tried to be feminine: she made beautiful hairstyles, cute makeup, dressed up in good and classic clothes, sometimes even allowed herself skirts and dresses, used good perfumes. But despite this, she still felt like a man, because she didn't make a full transition. She still had a male voice, an Adam's apple, light stubble on her face, but most importantly, she still had a dick. She wanted to finish everything faster, but there not enough money and Ju had to put up with it.

You always told her that she is the most beautiful girl in the world and you don't care that she hasn't changed into a girl yet, she believes you, she cries hearing these words. But she is still afraid that the worst thing may happen to her and you will constantly prove the opposite.

Kang Dae Ho

The guy told you that after the service he developed PTSD. You accepted it and said that everything was fine, that he was a great guy, that he continued to be strong and brave.

But the guy has a new fear. He fears that he won't be able to protect you because of his disorder.

Dae Ho is afraid that someday you will get bored that he sometimes behaves like a cowardly child and leave him.

He knows that you are not like that, he knows that you love him very much, but there is fear and he tries to fight it.

Kang Sae Byeok

You are a very nice and romantic person. You have always shown a lot of attention and love for your girlfriend, shower her with compliments, give gifts and much more.

Sae Byeok is very pleased, she likes that you are trying for her.

But she has a problem. A girl doesn't know how to give attention and love like you. She's used to being cold-blooded and distant, Sae doesn't even treat her brother too kindly.

She's ashamed of it. She is afraid that you will get tired of her cold and go to the one who can give you all the love and attention.

Sae Byeok tries, she tries very hard and you see it, what she does is very valuable to you.

Someday the girl will be able to cope with her cold to the end.

Thanos (Su Bong)

You and your boyfriend have been dating for about three years. You survived both ups and downs, but you always stayed close to each other.

You tried to help the guy cope with his addiction.

He tried to quit permanently, but constantly returned to the state when he could not recognize anyone but you (yes, even in a terrible state, he can recognize you).

Sometimes you have your hands dropped and you quarrel with a guy, saying that you will leave him, because you want a normal life, you want a wedding and children in the future, but you can't, because it's very difficult to build it with such a person.

Su Bong understands this, he is very ashamed, he promises to leave, but always breaks these promises.

He's afraid that you'll fulfill your threat and leave him, he even cries because of all this when he's left alone.

Nam Gyu

The biggest fear is betrayal. He was betrayed, humiliated and insulted many times. He was considered a litter because he was friends with influential people, especially because of his friendship with Thanos.

He doesn't want you to be the same, he doesn't want to know that you use him and his trust for your own benefit.

He is also afraid that Thanos will take you away, because according to Gyu he is much better.

But you always prove the opposite, you say that you don't need anyone but Gyu, that you love only him and he is the best person in your life.

He believes you, but he still has fear.

🤍🤍🤍

[lucy90712]

Hey Lucy 🌷

I was wondering if you were open to do some boyfriend/ dating headcanons for the boys you want to write it for?

A/n: This is a headcannon all of the random ideas I came up with over the course of a few days there is no structure too it but I hope you enjoy it anyway

Gavi 

- He is as passionate off the pitch as he is on it he always gives his all in everything in life and your relationship is no exception once he's in he's all in and that's what makes him a great boyfriend. 

- Anyone that knows Pablo knows he's not much of a talker he's always been quite shy and for a while he was the same around you until he felt completely comfortable around you and he was able to open up. Once he opens up you almost don't recognise him as he will sometimes spend hours just talking at you without any breaks. You love it though as it means he feels comfortable enough around you to break down all the walls he's put up. 

- Pablo is incredibly physically affectionate. That is how he shows his love as he often doesn't know how to find the words to express his love for you so he shows it in his own way. This way involves having his arms around you as much as he can and constantly giving you kisses. He probably gives you over 100 kisses each day and he won't settle for any less he makes sure he gives you kisses from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. Any free time he has is spent with his arms around your waist as there is nowhere he'd rather be than enjoying your company. 

- Jealousy is just something that comes with dating Pablo. He's very possessive he doesn't like any other guys flirting with you or even looking at you the wrong way. No matter how subtle these guys try to be he can always tell when they are trying to flirt with you and he will always give them a death stare until they back off. Sometimes he goes too far and tries to stop you talking to other guys but once his jealousy calms down he realises he can't control you and he has to just trust that you'll always come home with him.

- He is obsessed with seeing you wear his Barça or Spain shirts part of it probably comes from his possessiveness and liking you to wear his name on your back. He is always bringing you new shirts any time they are released so half your wardrobe is made up of football shirts. The shirts can't just be any shirts though they are always ones he's worn in matches as then they are special and sometimes he'll even write on the shirts if they are from a special match so that when you wear it you are reminded of that day. 

- Pablo has quite a short fuse it doesn't take much to annoy him most of the time but he never gets mad around you. You can tease him like his teammates do but he won't get mad he'll just distract you by kissing you or he gets all shy until you stop. No one understands why he doesn't get annoyed at you but he just doesn't he can't bring himself to shout at you or playfully hit your arm to get you to stop. Something about the mischievous look on your face when you tease him stop any anger from building up in him he just can't bring himself to be mad when you look so cute. 

- Pablo doesn't seem like the type of person to think too much about the future but he loves to think about his future with you. His injury reminded him that everything in life isn't a given so it made him appreciate everything he had including you a hell of a lot more. He really started to think about how he wanted to marry you and have kids with you he wants his whole future to be with you. At one point he seriously considered proposing but someone manage to talk sense into him and told him to wait a couple more years until he was back playing and you had finished your degree but it's still something he thinks about a lot. 

Pedri 

- For a while Pedri wasn't sure he was ready to settle down but as soon as he met you that changed. Suddenly all he wanted was you to be in his life and he knew you wouldn't accept a quick fling but he didn't want that either he wanted you and no one else. Once you two had started dating he couldn't be happier and he wondered why he was so hesitant to live his life that way beforehand but that doesn't really matter now he has you.  

- Pedri's family is everything to him so it was important to him that they liked you but there was nothing for either of you to worry about as they all loved you. From the moment you met them his parents loved you like their own child so you became part of the family straight away. Over time you have become so integrated into the family that it's pretty much expected that you'll attend any family event with or without Pedri as the whole family sees you as one of them. 

- There is nothing Pedri enjoys more than a quiet night in with you. He's not one for going out and drinking he much prefers to spend the evening on the sofa cuddling with you while watching a movie. Half the time he doesn't even watch the movie he just watched you as you are leaned against his chest while he plays with your hair. After a long day getting to unwind on the sofa with you is all he wants. 

- Before meeting you Pedri didn't have the best style but once you got your hands on his wardrobe it improves. He liked seeing you wear his clothes so you had to tell him he needed to get better clothes if he wanted you to wear them and he takes that seriously. He happily lets you go shopping with him to find some new clothes that aren't the hideous skinny jeans he had before which he wasn't sure about but when he sees how much you love his new style he begins to like it more too. 

- You were a football and barca fan long before you met Pedri so of course you are a fan of some of the older players. Being the great boyfriend that he is Pedri will get you signed shirts from some of your favourites because he remembers what it's like to be a fan of all these players and now he has the luxury of playing with or against them he likes to take advantage of it. He has managed to get you shirts signed by Busquets, Messi, Neymar and a few others which are proudly in your collection.

- Pedri sometimes gets jealous of you and Nilo, he knew you'd love the dog as you'd been talking about getting a dog for months but he didn't expect to lose his place in bed every night. When he comes home you are always cuddling with Nilo and when he tries to take the dogs place he usually gets growled at or pushed to the side. You do try to teach Nilo not to do that but he doesn't seem to grasp that Pedri was here before he was. Pedri does love to see how much Nilo loves you even though he brought him home and now he's been long forgotten your love for the puppy does make him smile. 

- When you move into Pedri's place you can tell that he's the only one who lives there the place is completely devoid of character only what is necessary is there. You completely change that you bring lots of little decorations to have round the place so it feels more homely. To start with he hated it he thought the place looked cluttered but he soon got used to it and started to love seeing all your little touches around the home including your million hair ties and lip balms that you leave everywhere. 

Jude 

- Jude is very proud of your relationship he truly loves you and he wants to show you off if he can sneak pictures of you onto his Instagram either on his story or his photo dumps he will. Your relationship is private but it's not at all secret if you want to post together you will and if you want to go somewhere together even if you'll be seen you do. You are always at Jude's games wearing his shirt to support him because you supporting him means more than hiding everything from the media and fans. 

- He is and always will be your passenger princess even if he learns to drive or you teach him he will still want you to drive everywhere. He just loves to sit in the passenger seat and watch you drive he has a whole album on his phone filled with pictures of you driving. You just have the cutest concentration face that he can't help but stare at as you drive. 

- Jude loves to buy you gifts. He's alway coming home with things for you they aren't always big things more often than not it's simple things like flowers or your favourite chocolates but on occasion he will bring home jewellery or other things that he sees that he thinks you'll like. Anything that reminds him of you he will get for you as he loves seeing the smile on your face. Every time you tell him off for spending his money on things for you when you already have enough but he doesn't listen in fact he enjoys watching you try to be mad at him when you actually aren't. 

- Since Jude went to Dortmund you made a lot of sacrifices for your relationship and Jude doesn't just sweep that under the rug he really appreciates everything you have done for him and to keep your relationship alive. For him to have his dream you've had to put yours aside but once you move to Madrid he really wants to let you have a go at yours dreams too. He makes sure to support you and help you as you are finally able to finish your education and work towards the career you want so you two can be a proper power couple. 

- His family are all really close despite not living all in the same country which is something you really admire. They are all so kind and are willing to help whenever you need them they are truly like a second family to you. Even if Jude's not around they will treat you like part of the family in fact when you go home even if it's just for a day or two they always offer their spare room to you or invite you over for dinner. You always appreciate how they always treat you the same whether Jude is there or not as to you that shows that they really like you.

- Jude is always just the sweetest boyfriend ever. You can never feel insecure when Jude is around as he's always complimenting everything about you until you are a complete blushing mess. He always seems to know when you aren't feeling confident and he'll go to extra effort to make sure you know that you are perfect to him which usually makes you feel better. After realising that what other people say really seems to affect you Jude makes sure that he blocks any accounts that say bad things about you and filters comments on yours and his posts so you aren't as exposed to all the negativity and can be the happy confident person he loves so much. 

- You and Jude really grew up together you were so young when you started dating that you really learned who you were and matured together. Jude really helped you come out of your shell as you got older you were always quite shy and would rather let other people do the talking but he encouraged you and helped you become more confident in yourself. It's thanks to him that you are able to talk to people at parties and events that you go to with him and you can stand up for yourself because his confidence rubbed off on you. 

Joao 

- Joao will be forever grateful that he found you you've been a constant in his life when everything else was changing. He finds comfort in your presence you are the one person he knows he can go to about anything as you always know what to say and how to make him feel better. 

- After a few instances of losing you in a crowd he refuses to go anywhere with you without touching you in some way to make sure you are safe. In big crowds he will always have hold of your hand and stand in front of you to lead you through to wherever you are going. Other times he will just have a hand on your waist or your back to keep you close. 

- One of the first things that told Joao you were the one was when you met Floki for the first time. Floki can be funny around new people he doesn't always like them and he seems to always be a good judge of character but the second you walked into Joao's place for the first time Floki was running up to you licking all over your face. That dog loved you probably more than him which told him all he needed to know about you as a person and how you would be the one for him if he could just keep you around which he managed to do. 

- Joao bought both of you necklaces with your respective initials as sort of a joke gift one Christmas but now he doesn't take his off. Unless he's playing he always wears his necklace with your initial on it even though it's only a cheap necklace he bought as a joke he love always having a piece of you with him. While he's playing and can't wear his necklace you always wear yours as he thinks it brings him good luck and because you like to support him in your own way. 

- If there's one thing Joao loves it's a trip somewhere warm when he has any time off and of course you have to come with him or the trip would be no fun. It doesn't matter where you go as long as there's a beach and you bring plenty of pretty sun dressed and bikinis as Joao loves to admire you when you have that sun kissed glow. Holidays with Joao are always great as they are the perfect mix of relaxation and getting to explore wherever you go and he always treats you like a princess the entire time. 

- Any big life decisions that Joao has to make he will always tell you about before anyone else. Whenever his agent receives offers from another club or his contract was up for renewal he always discusses it with you as it impacts your life just as much as his. If you even so much as hunt that you aren't happy with him moving to a certain club or country he'll tell his agent to decline the offer because if you aren't happy then he knows he won't be happy. You two are a team and you always come as a pair no matter the situation as that's just how your relationship works. 

- Joao loves to learn things from you. You are always leaning something new even if it's just silly little fun facts and Joao loves to hear them. He's learnt so much from you which he's always sharing with other people but he has to make sure they know the facts came from you. He loves when you get obsessed with learning about a new topic and all you do is passionately tell him all about it while you both lay in bed. Sometimes you realise that you are talking a lot and try to stop but he doesn't let you he always asks more questions to get you back talking as he never wants you to feel insecure about one of his favourite quirks of yours. 

Ruben 

- Ruben is all about commitment, once he knows he has feelings for you he won't talk to any other girls even if you aren't exclusive yet because he knows he wants you and he doesn't see the point in talking to anyone that's not you. Once you are officially together he is well and truly committed you won’t find him texting other girls or commenting on posts that aren't yours because he doesn't want anything to be able to be taken out of context and upset you as he loves you. He's fiercely loyal and you love him for that as it makes you feel much more secure in your relationship. 

- He's all about keeping healthy and working out so when you actually agree to join him in the gym or for a run he loves it. On those days he usually gets less done as he's always watching you or spotting you as he teaches you new exercises to work different muscles. Working out is something he enjoys so he likes to do it with you as it's a part of his world he can actually share with you. 

- Usually Ruben hates to do nothing he doesn't like sitting still and relaxing but when he's with you he will do it all day. If you want to lay in bed all day and relax he will be right there with you watching silly rom com movies and cuddling you. When he's with you he doesn't find it so boring to do nothing as he enjoys the way you comment on how idiotic some of the characters are and he enjoys just watching your face as you finally get to relax after a long week. 

- Ruben will always at least attempt to try out any hobbies you pick up whether it's something simple like reading a book from a series your obsessed with or joining you at a painting class as you've decided you need to be more creative. He will try anything at least once because he likes to know what you do with your free time so when you talk about it he can understand a bit more. It's not often that he sticks with your hobbies as most of them aren't his thing but he also wants you to have things you can do without him he just likes to try them out as you do the same for him. 

- Pretty much as soon as you are serious in your relationship Ruben asks you to move in with him. You already spend so much time together and more often than not you sleep over at Ruben's so to him it's a no brainier and it makes your life so much easier. He's so ready for you to move in that by the time you've got boxes together he's already cleared room in his wardrobe and chest of draws for your stuff. He also sets up his spare room as an office for you with no questions asked all of a sudden it's not longer a spare room there's a desk and a computer as well a little decorations he knows you'll like. 

- Ruben is your biggest supporter because you are always his. Anything you do he will be right behind you cheering you on whether it's something small like finishing a big project at work or getting a promotion. He will always try to make time to come to your work events like the Christmas party as he knows these sort of events aren't your favourite things and he's more than happy to take over the conversation about how great you are. Of course he doesn't always have time but he will always support you the best he can as he wants you to feel like what you do is just as important as football. 

- Some of the best memories you two have together are from your days spend back in Ruben's hometown. Quite early on you got to know his friends and family so whenever you go out there you always have lots of fun. That's not the main reason you love it though it's the getting to spend quality time together without worrying about you having work the next day or Ruben having training. It's not often that you get to spend that much time with Ruben so you always enjoy every second with him and the people he loves the most. 

[miumura]

IN ANOTHER LIFE, YOU’D BE THE ONE.

assigning enhypen sad tropes / endings

PAIRING enhypen x gn!reader GENRE angst, some fluff? WARNINGS some r not portrayed in a good light (bc of the trope ideas) WORD COUNT varies from 0.3-0.7K+ per

DISCLAIMER these are just random tropes that i think suits them, however, this is not a true depiction of how enhypen truly acts in real life. this is simply just fictional.

‘ 💬 ’ hanniluvi cb? HAHA sorry for disappearing on you guys, but i just finished finals & school is ending soon !!! so yk what that means 😊! slowly making my way back 2 writing 🫡 this was def made randomly and somehow i was committed to it so here you guys go!!

HEESEUNG — HE FAILED THE SECOND TIME.

i don’t really have an explanation to this, i just think he suits this kind of trope? like he truly loves you to the point where he’s willing to give another shot into the relationship. but when trying again, he realizes the problem but was too late to fix it once more.

You wouldn’t have expected either, but the buzz coming from your phone would be a text message from Heeseung. Shock and adrenaline rushed within your body as he was the first to break the “no contact” rule after your break up.

Without a second thought, you found yourself propped up against your bed frame, texting him instead of sleeping. It was going well, until the text messages started becoming more flirtatious.

Even so, it felt different. It felt like you two were finally ready to try again. When he arrived at your doorstep with flowers and a sign asking, "CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND?", you found no reason to decline.

Texts? He sent you thoughtful good morning and good night messages regularly.

Dates? He always paid attention to your preferences, leading to more spontaneous dates than anticipated.

Gifts? He surprised you with "just because" gifts, often accompanied by adorable notes.

Perhaps it seemed too perfect, but you were too in love to see any warning signs. His initial initiative in reaching out first felt like destiny. However, those blissful three to four months soon dissolved into nothing.

Texts? His responses come much later, and those sweet good morning and good night messages? Few and far between.

Dates? You're the one initiating them, and they lack the genuine spark they once had.

Gifts? It's only you who's putting in the effort, mirroring the gestures he used to make.

You've noticed he's slipping back into old patterns. Heeseung is consumed by his own schedule, neglecting those around him. Attempts to communicate often circle back to his work, leaving no room to discuss your relationship. He's too drained to prioritize you.

Perhaps you shouldn't have expected more or less, considering you already gave him another chance before.

You tried waiting, but with each passing day, you only disappointed yourself further.

So you gradually stopped texting, stopped putting in effort, stopped caring. And what came of it? Nothing.

Nothing until he randomly resurfaced with texts again.

People never change.

This time, without the previous excitement and nerves, you found yourself indifferent to even bother replying. Maybe your silence would speak volumes, considering he's accustomed to the silence he often gives you.

Maybe, you shouldn't have replied in the first place.

JAY — YOU FELL OUT OF LOVE, HE LOVED TOO HARD.

honestly, i see jay as a person who would absolutely do everything and anything for anyone. like this man would have no problem doing anything if it was meant to help anyone he loved. he just gives off the energy / whole idea of “so much love to give, gets not much in return.”

Since you started dating Jay, this guy has been nothing short of perfect to you. He constantly surprises you with flowers, insists on carrying everything for you, and showers you with compliments at every opportunity.

On the surface, it all seemed too good to be true. Despite having what many would consider the "perfect" boyfriend, you found yourself drifting away. Feelings slowly waned, and you began to distance yourself from the person who loved you the most.

Initially, you might not have noticed, but he did. As you began to give him less attention, show less reaction to his gestures, and the love in your eyes faded upon seeing him, he observed it all.

He witnessed you transform into someone unrecognizable. He recognized the signs of change, and perhaps he should have let go then. Yet, there remained a part of him that was reluctant to give up, still holding onto hope and the desire to keep trying.

Despite his earnest efforts to salvage the relationship, he couldn't escape the inevitable "Let’s break up" conversation. He hadn't realized how much his attempts to reignite your love were taking a toll on him until you made the decision to end things.

For months, he had maintained a facade of "everything will be okay," but now, faced with the reality of losing you, he began to crumble. He had invested so much time and energy into becoming a better person for someone he loved, only to realize that he was sacrificing himself in the process.

He couldn't blame you; he never would. He understood that you were falling out of love, and perhaps he should have let go sooner. But he couldn't shake the feelings he still harbored for you, even as they led to nothing but heartache.

Getting over you won't be as simple as he had hoped. He'll likely continue to blame himself, wondering what he could have done differently to be a better boyfriend for you.

But deep down, you know he did nothing wrong. He was a wonderful partner; it's just that you had fallen out of love, and sometimes, that's nobody's fault.

JAKE — RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIME.

DUDEEEEE, you can’t tell me jake gives off the vibes of a person you’d always think about. no matter how much you try to forget him, you visually can’t get him out of your head. like you truly like this guy, but because of the time/fate, it lead you guys onto separate paths. this trope sounds cliche, but it’s the best way i can word it.

Jake embodied everything you sought in a partner. From his looks to his humor, and especially his personality, he checked all the boxes. Spending time with him felt like a whirlwind; the hours flew by when it was just the two of you.

Ever since he moved in next door, you found yourself drawn to him, intrigued by his every move. What began as subtle glances evolved into friendly greetings and eventually daily hangouts.

You never knew you could be this over the heels with someone until you met him. You found yourself looking forward to his daily texts and him sending silly videos that reminded him of you. You found yourself making silly trinkets and dropping them off in his mailbox. You found yourself with a pink envelope in your hand, walking to the park to give to him.

And as always, you saw that smile that always managed to brighten up your day. Sitting next to him on the swings, as you expected to be faced with another few hours of random talk with him, you’d be suddenly hit with the news of him having to move.

You didn't want to believe it.

You hoped he was joking, but instead, you were met with a disappointed look on his face. He seemed almost ashamed that this was happening, even though you knew it wasn't his fault.

You could imagine how badly he felt, so you kept your emotions in check and simply told him you would miss him. That night, you went home with tears staining the pink envelope you had intended to give him—a letter of your confession.

You had planned to give it to him that day, but instead, you saved it for his last day.

"Here," you said, pressing your lips into a thin line as you handed him the envelope.

"What is this?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

"A letter—but don't read it now!"

"Why not? You're tempting me," Jake replied, raising an eyebrow as he held the envelope with care.

"Well, don't listen to your temptations because—hey!" Before you could finish, he had already opened it, revealing its contents.

"This is embarrassing," you mumbled into your hands, feeling the heat rise to your face. Peeking through your fingers, you saw his eyes getting watery as he chuckled at parts of your letter.

When he finished reading, Jake looked at you and extended his arms. You immediately fell into his embrace, feeling his warmth surround you. Placing a hand on the back of your head, he whispered into your ear, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" your voice cracked, fearing that your confession would lead to nothing.

"I'm sorry this had to be this way," he said, clearing his throat and fighting back tears stirred by your emotional letter. "If it wasn't obvious enough, I like you too."

You felt a mix of relief and sadness. Despite your mutual feelings, fate was pulling you in different directions.

Before you could say another word, his family was already calling him to leave. Jake gave you one last squeeze and a look filled with fondness.

"I'll try to contact you often, okay, YN?"

"Okay," you replied.

As he waved goodbye with red eyes and that beautiful smile you loved, you saw him for the last time in person, feeling the weight of the moment settle in your heart.

SUNGHOON — JUST “FAKE DATING”.

do you see the vision that i’m visioning. like i don’t know, it just works out?? like i can see you two starting to fake date, it leads to something more (at least that’s what you think), and that all disappears, repeating once more. like it seems like he means it, but at the same time, his actions seem to prove otherwise. it’s like a constant cycle that you don’t want to or know how to get out of.

"I'm telling you, I don't think you should be doing this," your friend insisted, both online and in person. "Hanging with Sunghoon is only going to hurt you."

You never anticipated how your own choices might backfire. As a good friend, you just wanted to help Park Sunghoon make someone jealous. After all, with his pleading tone, how could you possibly say no?

If only you just believe his rule, "Don't fall in love with each other," this should be easy. You just needed to play the role—that’s all you had to do.

So, it started off slowly.

You two were together all the time, which was normal for you both. But whenever his ex came around, you could feel him inching closer, invading your personal space. It wasn’t much, but it felt rather intimate...though that was the plan.

Then it escalated. Sunghoon didn’t just act like a boyfriend in person and at school; he began behaving the same way outside of school and over text.

You spent more time together, going to places, laughing as you took pictures. He started showing up at your house unannounced, and the two of you would stay up late, binge-watching your favorite shows and having those nightly talks.

He even introduced you to his friends. Would someone go to such lengths for a fake relationship?

It just didn’t feel like pretending. You felt something there, something that couldn’t be easily explained.

You tried to brush it aside, but your feelings for him only grew. You were definitely falling for his stupid, swooning charms.

You hoped he was falling for you too.

But that sliver of hope crashed down when you saw him with the very person he had wanted to chase after.

They were smiling and holding hands. He looked so...happy.

After he gave them a final hug, he turned and met your gaze, your eyes slightly glistening.

"Thank you, YN," he said, with that stupid grin on his face—the one you had fallen for. Seeing it now only made your stomach twist painfully.

“Thank you? That’s….that’s it?”

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon gave you a confused look. “Did you expect something more?”

“I would’ve loved an explanation.”

“What?”

You pressed your lips together, but your emotions were overflowing.

“Why would you treat me like that? I mean, why would you treat me so nicely? Why would you try so hard that it made me feel like we could’ve had something…real?”

“YN…”

"Just why, Sunghoon? If you knew this was only going to be a fake relationship, why did you create something special only for it to be discarded?"

"I'm sorry, YN. I never intended my gestures to be misleading, so I never purposefully planned that. I did enjoy our time together, but I have to end whatever we had because I now have the person I will always want."

Right.

No matter how hard you try, you can't change Sunghoon's mind.

You aren’t the person he wants.

After all, that was the whole point of his plan.

Don’t fall in love with each other.

SUNOO — YOU TWO DRIFTED APART.

i feel like with sunoo, since he has such an outgoing and bubbly demeanor, it allows him to easily connect with others. so with that idea in mind, why not because of his personality and him constantly being involved in new crowds, it causes him to have no time for you. without realizing it at first, he soon forgets about his priority: you.

You can't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions: confused, overwhelmed, sad.

Sunoo is a great guy, and you know that. But his bubbly personality seems to be interfering with your relationship.

At first, you were completely fine with it. He helped you meet new people, pushed you out of your comfort zone, and, most importantly, you saw him extremely happy. That’s all you really wanted.

But lately, you've noticed that he’s been paying less attention to you. Even when it's just the two of you, he often ends up calling someone or suddenly engaging in conversations with people around you.

You always had to make the plans, and his reactions seemed less genuine compared to when he was with others. Would it be wrong to think that you don’t matter to him anymore?

You always had to initiate conversations. Always.

Just like every other day, you were on the phone with Sunoo, the silence filling the room. No one was talking, and you could probably assume he was messaging someone else while on the phone with you.

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke. “Sunoo?” You didn’t know why you were nervous; he was your boyfriend, after all.

“Yes?”

“Um…” Your throat felt like it was closing up on you. You never wanted to seem pushy or insecure because of his behavior—you just wanted to feel special again, like you did at the beginning of the relationship. It should be easy to tell someone like him, right?

“Just tell me, YN.”

“Listen…” You hesitated before continuing. “Do you even… love me anymore?”

“Seriously? What kind of question is that? Of course I love you. Do I not show you that?”

“Well… no.” You bit your lip, hoping to get the closure you needed.

“I didn’t know you felt that way. I hope you know that you’re my—oh, YN. I’m sorry, I really have to go. I promised to hang out with Jungwon today. I’ll call you back, okay? Love you.”

You heard the other line beep, leaving you feeling empty. Removing the phone from your ear and dropping it in your lap, you looked at the calendar next to you. Today's date had a large red circle with little hearts doodled around the event “OUR ANNIVERSARY.”

He was hanging out with Jungwon instead of you. He forgot it. You stared at the hearts, feeling a knot form in your stomach. This day had meant so much to you, and now it felt like just another ordinary, lonely day.

His "I love you"s always reassured you—but now? They did nothing but make you feel worse.

He really doesn’t realize how much he’s hurting you, does he?

JUNGWON — THE CLASSIC SECOND LEAD.

okay okay, hear me out. i feel like jungwon suits the idea of a person liking someone, but too afraid to actually make a move. like he would want to keep people he like closely, but he would never do anything that seemed like it would lead to a fallout or anything more. so because of this, it leads to him watching you love someone else on the sidelines.

Jungwon has always been a nervous guy, and being in love only amplified his anxiety.

After spending so much time getting to know you, he realized he was falling—deeply. And he hated how it made him feel.

He hated how he would stutter when trying to make eye contact with you.

He hated how he took extra time to fix his hair.

He hated how he felt like a nervous wreck every time he initiated a hangout outside of school and work, praying you’d have the time.

But all those things he hated would soon fade away when he was with you. He began to appreciate himself for making the effort—it felt worth it.

Any moment with you felt special to him—enough for him to lay in bed and think about it all night.

He loved how you made him feel seen and understood, something he had not felt with anyone else.

If he were to date someone, he would want it to be you.

"Isn't he so dreamy?"

Hearing those words crushed his hopes of ever making you his.

He found himself sitting across from you, listening to you talk about this new guy, feeling a knot form in his stomach.

"Are you listening, Won?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. What happened again?" He nervously chuckled, clearly not wanting to hear what was going to come out of your mouth.

"We're going on a date tomorrow!"

His heart was about to burst.

Deep down, he wished he could tell you how he truly felt, how much he cared about you, but it seemed like there would be no point.

Every word felt like a stab, yet he forced a smile. "I am so happy for you, YN."

And there was that smile—the very smile he hoped to see whenever you talked about him. But instead, that beautiful smile was for somebody else.

As you continued excitedly talking about your upcoming date, Jungwon couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, knowing that he would always be just a friend, never the one you longed for.

Jungwon found another thing he hates about being in love.

He hates how loving someone can ultimately hurt you too.

NIKI — “TOO HARD TO LOVE”.

i can somehow see niki being apart of a trope where there is a lack of communication. like i think it would be hard to express himself properly, leading him to become closed off. like he would do tests to see how much you actually cared for him, leading to his own unsatisfaction. and yet, he still wouldn’t communicate it properly, leading to the downfall of your relationship with him.

"It doesn't seem like you care," Niki let slip out over the phone, his words not quite what he had intended to say to you.

"What do you mean?" you responded, clearly frustrated. "How can you say I don't care?"

"You haven't reached out to me."

"And what about you?"

"What?" Niki was taken aback by your abruptness.

"You never tell me anything. How am I supposed to know that you even want to be around me when all you've done is just push me away?"

The silence hung heavy between you, the weight of unspoken emotions palpable even through the phone line. Niki's mind raced, grappling with the sudden confrontation. He hadn't anticipated this turn in their conversation, nor had he realized the extent of his own actions until now.

Niki had never experienced this level of comfort and connection with anyone before.

He hadn't anticipated falling in love again—until he met you.

You possessed all the qualities he had been searching for, and being with you felt incredibly natural. So, it came as a surprise when he found himself in a relationship with you; it all seemed almost too perfect to be true.

Without even realizing, Niki was starting to become rather distant. He never intended to, but he was afraid of becoming a burden to you. The thought of investing so much time and energy into someone who might eventually leave scared him.

"I... I didn't realize," Niki stammered, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and guilt. "I didn't mean to push you away. I just... I've been dealing with some stuff lately, and I guess I haven't been handling it well."

"Then you could've told me, but you didn't. You only talked to me because I was always the one reaching out first," you finally said, your voice heavy with hurt. "So why?"

Niki felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of your words sinking in. He struggled to find the right words, the right explanation, but nothing seemed adequate.

"I don't know," he admitted softly. "Maybe I was scared."

"Scared of what?" you pressed gently.

"Just... just forget it," Niki muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “I’m sorry.”

"Niki, I need to know that you're willing to put in the effort, to be open with me. This relationship can't work if it's one-sided."

"I just don't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice breaking slightly.

"I don't know if I can believe that."

"What?" Niki's voice was filled with surprise and hurt.

"I can't tell if you're honest with me. You've done this more than once, Niki."

"But it's true!" His voice raised higher, clearly panicked by how the situation had escalated.

"You say that, but actions speak louder than words," you replied, trying to stay calm despite the turmoil inside. "If you really don't want to lose me, you need to show it, not just say it."

Niki should've taken that as a sign to finally show what he'd been holding back. He should've explained why he had such a hard time expressing his feelings, and proved to you that you were someone he truly wanted.

But he didn't. He found himself holding back once again, repeating the very behavior you truly hated.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That's... that's it?" You scoffed in disbelief. "Really?"

Niki felt a surge of panic and regret. He knew he was failing you again, but the words just wouldn't come. "I don't know what else to say," he admitted, feeling helpless.

"You could start by being honest," you replied, frustration evident. "Why is it so hard for you to open up? Why do you keep pushing me away?"

Niki hesitated, the fear of vulnerability clawing at him. "It's not that simple," he said finally. "I've never been good at this. I've always been afraid of getting too close, of being hurt again. But that's no excuse. I know I need to change."

"Then show me," you insisted. "Show me that you mean it. I need to see that you care enough to try."

Your silence was heavy, filled with both skepticism and a flicker of hope. "Call me when you're finally ready for this. I think we both need a break to think things over clearly, okay?"

Niki should have seen this coming. But instead of running away from the problem like he used to, he accepted it. "Okay."

You hung up the phone, leaving Niki alone with his thoughts. Determined, he knew he had to win you back and prove he could be different, better than he had been throughout the entire relationship.

💬 : if it doesn’t seem obvious enough, i’m trying to get back into writing longer fics 🤫

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[pomefioredove]

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

[dumbpsique]

DATING OLIVER AIKU; how it feels.

|If by a miracle you won this man's heart, what kind of boyfriend would he be?

|Red stars: NSFW

☆ I disagree with those who say that Oliver is not jealous. He is absolutely very jealous, after all, he understands very well how the male mind works.

☆ lots of hugs in public, without caring if the entire press is pointing cameras at you.

☆ He wakes up early and plays on his cell phone, which means he will have lots of photos of you sleeping with your mouth open, drooling or even videos of you snoring.

☆ It absolutely makes you embarrassed. without wanting to? Don't be silly, it's a hobby.

☆ He eats while playing on his cell phone, so while you're complaining about all your problems, he's watching some tiktok at full volume.

☆ your dates are car trips where you can put your feet up, choose the music and adjust the air conditioning temperature.

☆ When he comes into contact with kids, he acts like an idiot, running after them, spinning them around, jumping, doing whatever they want. then you comment about wanting to start a family and he blanches "god, no."

☆ 100% needy when he wants something. holding onto your waist, sniffing your neck and whispering "pleeeeease" in your ear.

☆ calls you the most shameful petnames possible in public. Are you in front of a waiter? "my little parakeet." They are having lunch with his parents "cute baby, can you pass the salt?" Yes, he is ridiculous.

☆ He never knows how to give you gifts, he always buys the most expensive one.

☆ thinks you're the hottest woman in the world and loves showing off by your side. points to all the guys on the team "that's my girl"

☆ He stresses you out in fights because he doesn't respond to your insults. use sarcasm or just respond with "okok, if you think you're right"

☆ his parents adore him. Oliver is a natural extrovert and even gets along well with his grandparents. he talks about football, helps your mother in the kitchen, plays with your younger siblings and bothers your father.

☆ It cooks SO badly that it's depressing. Every romantic night ends with a burnt pan and a last-minute pizza order.

☆ squeeze your ass regardless of who you are in front of. zero embarrassment, every couple does this, right? in public or not, what changes?

☆ he says he's going to braid your hair (you always end up with knots, but you leave it because you think it's cute.

☆ 8 or 80. he will open the car door in a gentlemanly way or forget you outside and leave.

☆ the kind of guy who if you ask him to buy pads he will ask you what size your pussy is.

☆ makes jokes about having lovers, but would never trade you for anyone.

☆ double meaning jokes ALWAYS! this guy has no discernment of limits (he dies laughing at his own jokes.

☆ every event he takes you to, you end up on a couch with a glass of wine in your hand while cursing everyone there.

☆ he enjoys semi-public sex, he feels turned on by the fact that he can be caught or that he can hear you melting for him.

☆ tags you anywhere you consider hot. his fingers are marked on her waist, bites on her neck and breasts. That's why he thinks he's exceptional.

☆ "do you like this? oh you do, look at the way you're whining." damn, he's dirty.

☆ it will break your ego painfully, denying you orgasm and making you beg for it.

☆ I would ask to record. no one is made of iron, what would he do when he was horny and in another country without you? having videos made everthing easier.

☆ have rough sex and sleep spooning FR

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part seven | r.c

summary:

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

OR; You deal with an intruder, lose your temper and Rafe and you take a shower.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ only! (oral male/female receiving)

word count: 2,6k

author's note: long awaited im guessing HAHAHAH i hope you have survived so far. finally introducing the third character of this series.... you all know him. as usual, happy reading and i look forward to hearing about your thoughts <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. seven: "tell yourself you can always stop"

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The “intruder” was standing shock still, the two of you staring at each other. You didn’t think that was going to hurt you or anything, but the rollling pin was still raised in the air, ready to strike any second. While you didn’t necessarily share the disdain for pogues as your friends did, it didn’t mean that you trusted him. He broke into your house after all.

JJ Maybank, possibly the definition of a pogue, was standing in your hallway, hands raised in defense as he eyed the rolling pin in your hand. He looked almost bored.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Uh, standing. What are you doing, princess?”

You let the nickname slide, glaring at him.

“Defending myself against an intruder.”

“Intruder?

JJ barked out a laugh, his hands clutching his stomach like he just heard the funniest joke in his life, though he quickly raised his hands again when you pointed the rolling pin closer at his face.

“You just broke into to my house, what are you if not an intruder?” you asked, affronted.

“I didn’t break in on purpose!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally broke into my house??”

“Hey, to be fair, you left the door unlocked.”

“Are you blaming the victim right now?”

JJ bit back a grin, his hand slowly reaching out to lower the rolling pin. You let him, but remained wary, your arms dropping to your sides.

“What are you doing here JJ?”

JJ took off his cap, running his hand through his messy hair once before putting his cap back on.

You tried to ignore that you thought he was hot.

“I was coming out of Ruby’s and trying not to be seen by anyone, thought I could hide out here for a bit,” he explained and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ruby Evans? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah well that would’ve been good to know before I hooked up with her and almost got caught by said boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Figured JJ would be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Obviously you knew JJ, but only really on the surface. You didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But you knew that Rafe didn’t really like him, neither did Topper, but mostly because JJ was John B’s best friend. Kelce didn’t really have much of an opinion except for the fact that he thought JJ was hot, so that was that. What you did know, however, was that JJ shared the same disdain for kooks that Rafe did for pogues, so to catch JJ on the other side of the island was newsworthy.

“I’m surprised you’d get caught up with Ruby,” you said. “I thought you hated kooks.”

JJ merely shrugged, grinning at you.

“Why deprave the female population of the other side of the island of an experience with me only because of something they can’t change?”

You snorted, biting back a laugh because you knew that if he thought you thought he was funny, it was over for you. JJ took the moment to let his eyes wander over you, and you stopped yourself from wrapping the linen shirt around your exposed body. This was your house and you weren’t gonna let someone else make you feel uncomfortable. Much less a guy.

“Had a pool party?”

“Something like that,” you replied, meeting JJ’s gaze straight on. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his boyish grin growing.

“Should I take it personally that I wasn’t invited?”

You gave him a look and JJ winked at you, before his face lit up, like he remembered something.

“Hey, your parents are organizing the spring fling, right?”

“Yes, why?” You asked back, suspicious.

“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need some money to fix up my bike, and the country club always pays well. But the hostess kind of hates my guts, so she’d never hire me if I applied for the job. You think you could put in a good word for me?”

It was odd how JJ was able to switch from sarcastic to bashful the minute he needed something from you. You had heard from other girls that he was something of a womanizer, and the fact that he just came out of Ruby’s house just proved the point. So you tried not to put much worth on the grin he was giving you.

Most people would probably call it charming. You weren’t most people.

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool,” JJ said, honest to god pointing finger guns at you. This guy was unreal. He turned to leave the way he entered - through the patio door - but before he shut the door, he looked back to you, one foot already out of the house. “You’re not so bad for a kook, princess.”

JJ slipped through the small gap, closing the sliding door behind him. With a deep sigh, you locked the door, pulling down the blinds for good measure before you headed back to the kitchen. You put the rolling pin back in its place, shutting the dishwasher before switching it on, trying to act like that just didn’t happen.

Turning off all the lights downstairs, you headed towards the hallway, preparing to go to bed when two short raps came on the front door before it opened, as Rafe let himself in like he had been invited over. For some reason, it made you mad. You let out a sigh as you took him in and he raised a brow at you.

“You really need to lock the doors when you’re home alone precious,” Rafe commented and you snorted under your breath.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you freed your hair from the claw clip, shaking your head out, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Did you really clean up the mess in the kitchen by yourself?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I would’ve helped you,” Rafe pointed out, annoyed.

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were staying over,” you retorted, just as annoyed. “Or that you were coming back.”

“Why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe’s irritation was evident in his voice and you let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I’m just tired, okay?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling your shoulders slump a little. “If you came to fuck I don’t think I’m really in the mood today, so you can just leave. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned to walk into your bedroom upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. As you stripped down, throwing you bikini and the overshirt in the hamper, you thought you heard the front door shut. You tried not to let the angry tears in your eyes fall as you stepped into the shower, instead, you turned the water on, letting it drench your whole head. Fucker, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that he’d just leave like that. Before all of this, he never would’ve just left.

Then again, you wouldn’t be in this situation either. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even heat the door to the bathroom clink open. Only when the glass door of your shower squeaked, you were made aware of Rafe’s presence as he stepped inside. You really had to work on your spatial awareness. He stepped under the shower stream, the water immediately soaking him up, your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Rafe gave you a displeased look, pressing himself against your backside.

You kept quiet for a few seconds, the knot in your chest unfurling slightly, and you found yourself leaning against him.

“I thought you left.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

Rafe’s voice was quiet as he murmured into your ear, his hand coming up behind you to cup around your breast. You bit back a sarcastic reply, because surely this wasn’t something a best friend would do.

“I wouldn’t just leave when I know you’re upset about something, you think you’re just a piece of ass to me?”

“I don’t know what we are these days,” you muttered, half hoping that Rafe didn’t hear you, but based on the way his hand clenched around your waist, he did hear. He turned you around in his arms, frowning down at you.

“Precious,” Rafe said, his voice tight. “You’re my best friend. Yes, the sex is fucking great, but it’s not worth losing you over. If you’re starting to question our friendship, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked as the day you were born, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes, trying to clear your head. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

Rafe took a step back. It was small, he barely moved, but to you it felt like a mile. You couldn’t go back to just being only his best friend, so before he could move away even further, you reached out to pull him back in, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him. Rafe grunted into the kiss, seemingly hesitant for a second before he all but melted into you, his hand wrapping around your hair to tilt your head further up. You lost yourself in the kiss for a second, your hands intertwining on the nape of his neck before you pulled away when it got too heated.

“I’m too tired for sex,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the warmth unfurling between your legs.

Rafe eyed you for a second, before he nodded, turning you in his arms again, his chest against your back.

“Let me take care of you.“

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the water off, before he ran his hand down your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs. Your breath hitched, pressing further into him.

“Rafe.”

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue lapping up the water droplets that clung to your shoulder. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

His hand ventured further down, one finger dipping into the warmth of your folds and you let out a soft sigh, the stress leaving your body. You had half a mind to tell him to stop, you you found yourself saying nothing. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, searching for something to hold onto while the pad of his thumb stroked circles over your most sensitive little spot of nerves, having you moan out his name.

“That’s it,” Rafe said, leaning further down so he could slip his finger into your cunt, your gummy walls opening up to his digits, your knees growing weak. Both of you were still wet from the interrupted shower, and you should’ve been long cold by now, but all you felt was Rafe’s warm body pressed up against you and the heat coiling in your lower stomach. Rafe’s movements weren’t fast paced, but he applied pressure in just the right places, you felt your orgasm coming in no time.

“Shit,” you gasped, laying your head against his chest, catching Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing a hunger in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, but before you could question it, he kissed you, stealing your breath away. The kiss was the last thing that threw you over the edge and with a small, breathy moan you came apart on Rafe’s fingers, clinging onto him for dear life. As you caught your breath, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, steadying you.

“You good?”

You let out a grunt, squeezing his wrist. “You know the shower is one of the most dangerous places to have sex in?”

“… That doesn’t sound right.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, taking your hands off of Rafe, testing your footing, before you turned, getting on your knees.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” you asked back, wrapping your hand around his cock and Rafe let out a moan, carding his fingers through your hair. “Your dick has been pressed into my back for the past 15 minutes, let me suck you off.”

“If you insist.”

Rolling your eyes wordlessly, you pumped his cock for a but, before licking a strip along his shaft, making Rafe curse above you. You only smirked to yourself, before you wrapped your lips around his cock, knowing that was all he wanted right now.

“Fuck,” Rafe hissed, his grip on your hair tightening, thought you didn’t mind, your focus solely on sucking the life out of him. Your tongue was pressing against the small slit on his tip as you moved your mouth along the length of his cock, hand still wrapped around his lower base, where you couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t a beginner when it came to cock sucking, but you weren’t a professional either. It was safe to say that Rafe was pretty content with your skills though.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you took in as much of his cock as possible, continuing to suck on him, a mixture of saliva and Rafe’s precum smearing around the edges of your mouth, making a whole mess in your face, though you continued unperturbed.

“Shit, you really give the best head prec-”

Your nails dug into his thighs, and he cut off, replacing your nickname with your real name, and you eased off his thigh, sighing softly as the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, hoping it wouldn’t bruise again. It didn’t take long until Rafe slowly started thrusting into your mouth, his hips stuttering that you knew he was close.

“I’m about to come,” he warned you, his voice hoarse and the grip on your hair less hard. You only let out a hum of acknowledgement, not lessening your movement until Rafe spurted his cum down your throat, groaning out your name. You took your mouth off his cock, having swallowed his bitter cum and wiped your mouth, satiated.

Meanwhile, Rafe was leaning on the shower wall, gently extricating his hand out of your wet hair, heaving breaths.

“You’re a minx,” he told you, pulling you up for a quick kiss. You only grinned against his lips, swatting at his bare chest. Nipping on your lower lip, Rafe reached behind you to turn the shower back on, to finally finish what you had come here for in the first place. Together, you showered quickly and thoroughly and as Rafe washed the soapy suds off of you, hands all over your body, it felt intimate but not in a sexual way. You tried not to think about it too much.

When the both of you were done, hands all prune-y, you exited the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe and handing a towel to Rafe so he could dry off. You did a quick run through of your nighttime routine, while Rafe watched bemusedly as he brushed his teeth, but didn’t comment on it. When you were both done, crawling into bed, your hair still damp, you settled into your side of the bed (which was a wild statement in itself, as Rafe turned off the light in the bedroom, before getting in bed on the other side. You were content to fall asleep, safe and soundly tucked in, when Rafe reached under the blankets to pull you close against his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck.

Your cheeks heated, and you side eyed Rafe as he got comfortable in bed, your shoulders tense.

“I meant what I said,” he then muttered, arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever feel like our friendship is changing or this makes me feel like you can’t trust me, you gotta tell me precious. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you mumbled, laying a hand on his, trying to reassure him, even though your heart was racing a mile a minute. Rafe didn’t reply, and before long, his breath evened out, but you were still wide awake.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: okay real talk, how many of you guessed who the intruder was???

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || the proxies || prologue

tw: mentions of murder

“Son of a bitch!”

Masky’s voice was hoarse under his mask, the muddy slope under him making him slide forward. A rough hand grasped his forearm, keeping him from falling. He glanced over his shoulder, Hoodies gloved hand wrapped around his mustard jacket. He glared at Toby as he slid down the muddy slope with glee, splashing mud onto his already tattered jeans. Masky’s eyes narrowed as he heard the familiar quiet giggles coming from under Toby’s mask.

“W-where are we?” Toby questioned. The three looked around, Masky’s memory the most hazy out of the three. Him being elected the leader made the least sense sometimes, considering how scrambled his brain was. “The butt fuck of no where is my guess,” Masky huffed. Hoodie looked in front of them a two way road the only sign of civilization. He turned to Masky, who was about five seconds away from a rage fit. “We need to find our way back to the mansion,” Masky sighed. He began walking along the side of the road, assuming Hoodie and Toby would follow.

“You’re not seriously proposing we walk back to civilization are you?” Hoodie asked plainly. Masky gritted his teeth, annoyance washing over him. “You got a better idea?” He snapped. Toby skipped in front of Masky, turning around to face him as he walked backwards. “We c-c-can hit-tchhike!” He said cheerfully. Masky and Hoodie exchanged looks, watching as Toby raised his arm by the road. He raised a thumb, his signature bloody axe thrown over his opposite shoulder.

“Anyone who willful picks us up has got to be a lunatic,” Hoodie muttered. A set of headlights appeared over the clearing, the older men’s eyes narrowing at the sight of your car. “Looks like we got ourselves a lunatic,” Masky grumbled.

“L-l-let me do all of-f-f the talking gentleman,” The younger proxy said. Toby skipped to the front of the car, Masky and Hoodie watching dumbfounded as you rolled down your window. “Do you think it’s because she thinks the kids cute?” Masky asked his partner. Maybe he hadn’t been around women so long that they overlooked blood soaked axes if someone was attractive enough. Hoodie elbowed him. “It’s Halloween, that’s why she’s not bothered,” Hoodie replied quietly. How could Masky have forgotten? Thats the entire reason they were able to complete their mission to begin with.

“You know the rules we can’t have witnesses, no matter how cute,” Hoodie whispered. Masky eyed you carefully, noticing your doe eyes and plump lips. You seemed to be wearing some sort of fairy costume, one that made your breast sit upright. Masky sighed. “Of course. We get in the car and let her drive for a bit. Gives us a break. Once we come to a stopping point we’ll make it short and sweet,” Masky told Hoodie. He gestured his head to the revolver in his jacket pocket, the outline shoving just ever so slightly. Toby came back around the car, waving for them to join him. “Dibsss o-on shotgun!” Toby cheered.

As Masky approached the car he gently shoved Toby towards the backseat. “Yeah right kid, take a seat,” He huffed. Masky slid into the passengers seat of the car, your lips curling into a bright smile. “Hi i’m y/n,” You greeted. Masky gave you a brief nod, the three of them settling into the car. You noted their silence, deciding to change the conversation. “So, where you guys needing to go?” You asked. You started the car again, driving down the windy road. It became apparent that you were intoxicated, your perfume not able to conceal the smell of alcohol. Masky would’ve questioned your ability to drive, if he cared to survive a possible crash.

Death would be a pleasant surprise, if Slender didn’t have EJ bring him back in time. The healing process would be a bitch. “Just back to town. We got lost partying in the woods,”Hoodie answered quickly. Every so often it impressed Masky how quickly his partner could lie on the spot. You nodded. “Well i’m glad I found you guys, Halloween can get pretty crazy,” You slurred. Masky watched cautiously as your eyes flickered into the rearview mirror, looking at Hoodie and Toby. If it were up to him he would have you drive the entire way, so he could relax his never ending storm of a mind.

“What are you three dressed up as? I’m Tinkerbell as you might’ve guessed,” You giggled. Unfortunately your talking and questions were starting to get on Masky’s last nerve. “Y-you ev-ver see the purge? We’re dressed like them!” Toby replied, his neck twitching ever so slightly. Masky refrained from audibly sighing. Toby’s neck only ever twitched like that when he genuinely enjoyed talking to someone. He needed the kid to not get attached to you. Would only make the disposal process harder. And trust him, no one chops up a body like Toby does.

“Thats cool, definitely unique masks you guys have. Can I touch?” You asked innocently. You reached over to Masky, your fingertips threatening to graze his mask. The brunette could feel himself growing angry, his mask the one possession he could not allow to be touched. Hoodies loud coughing stopped your motion, your hand frozen as you glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay?” You asked cautiously. Masky sighed in relief as you retracted your hand. Hoodie continued fake coughing, giving you a thumbs up with one of his gloved hands.

The games and chit chat were growing old. Maybe if they were normal men, who actually were coming from a Halloween party, you’d be enjoyable. Maybe one of them would be lucky enough to take you home and fuck your brains out in that slutty Tinkerbell costume of yours. But they weren’t normal men and none of them were lucky. “He’s fine, just has bad a-a-asthma,” Toby explained, patting Hoodies shoulder. Masky could see Hoodie subtly cringe at the sensation of physical touch. He despised anyone touching him. “I have asthma too! Hang on I think I have an inhaler in the glovebox,” You replied.

You made a slow left on the windy road, the city lights slowly coming into view from a far. “Hey do you mind grabbing the inhaler from the glovebox?” You asked Masky. He did as instructed, clearing his throat as he handed the inhaler back to Hoodie. It was a subtle signal that they needed to get on with disposing of you. They were close enough to the city now. “Welllll you guys don’t seem like big talkers so i’ll play some music. Is that okay?” You asked. Toby nodded profusely. Music always made the kid overly excited. Masky began to reach in his coat pocket, his revolver always loaded and ready to go. He could feel his metal wrapped around the metal, itching with anticipation.

Your fingertips pressed the center console, turning on a tune Masky hadn’t heard in a long time. The Smiths filled his ears, the lead singers voice soothing. He glanced in the rearview mirror, Hoodie’s head beginning to twitch to the left. Shit, Brian’s gonna be fronting. Masky’s gaze landed on Toby, whose leg was jumping up and down front excitement. This band reminded Hoodie too much of his previous life, triggers like those allowing Brian to front earlier than expected. Masky sighed as the chorus came on, his jaw beginning to clench as an all too familiar pounding began in the front of his temple.

Brian could see Masky’s switch, his hand rubbing his temple as it always did when Tim was about to front. Tim blinked a few times, his breathing feeling suffocated under his mask. His hand slid out of his jacket, leaving his revolver inside. He quickly shoved his mask off, fear washing over him with the realization as to what he just did. Not only could they not have witnesses, but they most certainly could not let anyone who saw their faces walk away alive. Tim shot Brian a worried look, Brian quick to shove off his ski mask. As The Smiths played in the background Tim cleared his throat.

“I’m Tim by the way, and he’s Brian,” He said. He pointed at Toby with him thumb over the seat. “And I’m sure Toby has introduced himself,”

How could they get out of this without killing you?

How could they get out of this without killing you?

How could they get out of this without killing you?

You smiled drunkenly, Tim noticing your slight curve when driving. “Do you guys want to stop by waffle house?” You asked. Toby went to immediately agree, Brian’s hand flying over his mouth. “Maybe some other time, we have uh, work tomorrow,” Brian answered. Toby shoved his arm away, Brian struggling to keep his hand over the younger man’s mouth. “Bummer. I should probably go home too. Works such a bitch,” You sighed. Tim was trying to listen to you, he really was. But all he could think about was how he was going to have to order your execution. To arrange your meeting with death himself.

His brown eyes flickered to Brian’s in the rearview mirror, who were silently awaiting his instruction. Tim knew his partners expectation, but as he looked over at you, he just couldn’t do it. As you drove into the city you hummed along to the song, your fingers tapping along the steering wheel to the beat. Tim couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was determined to let you go. Maybe it was his morality that surfaced when he immediately switched. Maybe it was how tired he truly was. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept. Whatever it was, something about you called to him. That calling involving you being alive.

The city lights were mixtures of purples and yellows, illuminating the inside of the car. “Can you pull over at the gas station up here? We live nearby,” Brian interjected, ruining the silence. You nodded, turning on your blinker and driving over to the right lane. Tim didn’t want to leave just yet, resentment of Brian’s words washing over him as you parked the car. “Well here we are,” You say. It wasn’t hard to see you were still drunk, your eyes glazed over. Tim couldn’t help but conclude your intoxication was the only reason you were so calm.

“Thanks for the ride, appreciate it,” Brian said, sliding out of the backseat. Tim listened to the car door slam, slowly taking off his seatbelt. Toby followed his lead. “B-b-bye beautiful!” He said, retreating from the car. Tim gave you a brief glance. He was doing the right thing by sparing your life, right? He slid out of the car, grabbing his mask and shoving it into his coat. You rolled down your passenger window, giving them a wave. “I’ll see you guys around, right?” You asked. Something about the ominous three men was intriguing, a mystery seemingly dying to be solved.

“Most definitely,” Tim replied. He leaned down, propping his arms on the passenger door as he peered down inside of your car. “Seriously, thanks for the ride. If we run into each other again we’ll make up for it,” Tim offered. You smiled, the faintest flush of pink highlighting your cheeks. “I’d like that a lot,” You replied. Tim leaned away, giving you a wave.

“Goodbye Y/n.”

“Goodbye Tim.”

With that you drove away, leaving Tim standing beside Brian and Toby. “You let her go?” Brian questioned. Tim dug into his pants, digging out a box of cigarettes. “Just like that?” Brian continued to questioned. Tim shrugged, bringing a cigarette to his lips. “No sense in killing her. She did us a favor,” He replied blandly. He began digging around for a lighter, Toby furiously jumping in between them. “What?!?! Y-you guys-s-s wanted to kill her?” Toby gasped. Brian rolled his eyes. “Dont be so naive, she’s a witness and we leave no witnesses behind,” He informed him. Brian shot Tim a dirty look and added, “Especially after they’ve seen our faces.”

Tim was aware he was breaking about twenty different protocols by letting you go. He was also more than aware Toby could’ve taken care of you entirely, he wouldn’t have needed to be involved. But he wanted you to live. It was an odd sensation he had never truly felt before, raw craving for someone that came across their path to walk away scratch free. “How long are we stationed here?” Brian asked. Tim finally found his lighter, igniting the end of his cigarette. Once he inhaled he replied, “About another three months.”

Brian crossed his arms, both him and Toby trailing behind Tim as he began to stroll down the sidewalk. He exhaled through his nose, ignoring Brian’s dirty looks. “How exactly do you propose we avoid her for three months?” He asked. Tim rolled his eyes. “For starters there’s the entire possibility she’ll be too drunk to remember us anyways,” He began. He watched as Toby galloped ahead, his axe slung over his shoulder like always. Tim brought out his pack of cigarettes again, gesturing for Brian to take one.

“Besides her meeting us was a mistake. A girl like that doesn’t belong in our world. She’ll never see us again. We’ll be a drunken memory,” Tim insisted. Brian took a cigarette, a gesture that meant he was going to try to trust Tim on this. Tim flickered the lighter, igniting the end of Brian’s cigarette. Once Brian inhaled, the two continued walking.

“You just let her go because she’s cute huh?”

“Dude shut up.”

—> chapter one

[the-ace-with-spades]

Sorry I have baby fever again and I'm projecting on my blorbos. This could've also evolved into mpreg but like I'm leaving it open

So the first time they break up, it's not as explosive as people assume — it is Bradley that does the breaking up.

They were going strong and Bradley didn't have any doubts that Jake was the right person for him — sure, maybe he doubted if he was the right person for Jake, but he tried not to give in to the insecurities.

That's all changed when he found out Jake didn't want to get married and have children.

Bradley didn't necessarily think marriage was something needed for love (he had plenty of examples growing up...) but it was something he personally wanted to have once the option showed up on the horizon and the first few states allowed for it. It wasn't really an option that he could consider with the Navy still looming over their heads and he and Jake started the whole relationship without big emotions attached and slowly turned it into what it became — so they never talked about their plans for life beyond the Navy.

Bradley always wanted to get married and have children, even when it didn't seem entirely possible. He had seen a couple of weddings when he was younger and he longed to have what some of the adults in his life had as a child. He was an only child, not by choice, and often felt lonely and by the time Slider and Sarah (and other couples in his parents life) had a child of their own, he was too old to play with them — but he was also old enough that the babies fascinated him, that he could hold them and feed them and make them smile or stop crying. And he liked it, a lot, maybe even much more than anyone would suspect for someone his age.

But it was meeting Jake's family that cemented it — Jake was the youngest of six and already an uncle to eight kids when Bradley met his parents and siblings for the first time. Bradley spent the whole weekend hiding away at the kids' table and holding infants and carrying around toddlers and managing little tantrums and speaking in a softer voice and cuddling sleepy pre-schoolers at the door.

He wanted this kind of life more than anything.

But Jake didn't. And Bradley found out by accident — their group was just sitting around and celebrating one of the guys getting engaged and sure enough when Jake got asked if he thinks about settling down with someone, Jake went, Hell no. Explained he didn't want to be chained down forever by anyone, that marriage is just a piece of paper and he doesn't really want a piece of paper to be the thing holding him together with someone.

And you know, on the off chance that this is something he said in front of everyone — it's not like he could have looked at Bradley across the table and say, If only I could — Bradley asks tentatively at home, you know, whether he really didn't want to get married if he had the option.

Maybe for a tax rebate, if it was big enough.

Half of a dream life falling, Bradley asks about children. And Jake gives him a whole monologue about how he had a newborn around himself since he was fourteen and he has enough diapers and cries for the rest of his life, thank you, children are not as fun when you can't give them back to their parents when trouble starts.

And Bradley makes a decision.

Bradley doesn't really say anything — it'd sound ridiculous, to say that he loves Jake more than anything else but they're just not compatible. Jake never really connects the dots and doesn't really understand what went wrong — one day he and Bradley were solid, the next one Bradley was breaking up with him — hence the bitterness.

Bradley dates people who have the same goals - marriage, kids, a family life — but he never really finds someone he feels even half as much as he felt about Jake.

When after the mission, they get back together, Bradley accepts that marriage and children are something he'll never have with Jake.

And so the Bradley Bradshaw Babysitting service starts — if Bradley can't be a parent, he'd fill the void by being the best uncle ever to every single child he knows. Javy's toddler, Slider's grandchildren, Omaha's sons, Halo's daughter, their neighbor's kids. It's usually easily excusable — Bradley volunteers to babysit, usually when Jake is busy, and if Jake questions it, he can always say, well, they needed someone and I didn't know how to say no and Bradley can just keep these two parts of his life separated.

It all culminates when they're at a BBQ with the whole group and Fritz's two-month-old daughter keeps falling asleep in Bradley's arms — she wakes up and starts crying whenever Bradley tries to put her down back in the stroller and Fritz's wife (a very tired new mom) says Bradley needs to move in with them so they can keep him forever.

So Bradley spends the whole evening walking around with a two-month-old baby in his arms, eating with one hand or letting Jake pop little macarons into his mouth, never letting go, repeating he doesn't mind it at all.

And Jake is watching him feed the baby with a bottle and Nat comes around and raises her eyebrows at him. "Thinking about having your own?"

"Kids only look nice in the pictures, not so fun if you don't have anyone to give them back at the end of the day. We like our peace and quiet." When Nat doesn't answer him and just stares at him, he adds, "What?"

Slowly, she says, "Bradley's wanted to have kids as long as I've known him."

"I think I know him a bit better than you."

She gives him an incredelous look and waves in Bradley's general direction, still with the infant in his arms, speaking softy with Fritz's wife. "Does he look to you like someone who doesn't want children?"

And then she just, walks away. And yeah, maybe when Jake looks at Bradley with the baby (and the countless other children from their friend group that love him), that makes sense. Bradley is really good with kids but that doesn't mean he wants to have kids — Jake is good with kids as well (hard not to be, given how many babies there are in his family) but that doesn't mean he wants kids.

And Jake always assumed that given the circumstances, Bradley didn't want kids — they were both two men in the Navy with little to no family around, kids weren't exactly available to them, the most logical thing would be to, well, not want them.

But the times are different, the last ten years have changed a lot, a lot is possible.

Jake's never thought to ask — why would he when it all seemed settled for him? Bradley had never mentioned anything when they were together the first time. He's never mentioned anything this time around either, despite babysitting half the neighborhood. Jake's known him the longest out of all the people in their friend group, knows him better than anyone.

So, when the opportunity arises, he asks Mav, "Has Bradley ever said anything about wanting children?"

He gives him the same look as Nat gave him at the BBQ. "Why, are you guys...?"

"No, god, no. I'm just curious, is all."

"Well, he's always wanted kids."

He tries not to be surprised. "Always?"

"Even when he was a kid, he played with baby dolls as much as with plane and car toys," Mav says, smiling, and Jake can imagine it — "And as a teenager, he was so good with kids, always said that when he gets married and has his own, he..."

Jake's never really thought Bradley'd think of this as a when, not an if.

"We knew, when he was younger, that he wasn't exactly straight but," Mav explains. "When he stopped talking to us, one of my biggest fears was that the years would go on and when we finally meet again, he'd already have children that never even knew Bradley had us, for a family. Now I kind of wish it happened."

Jake's not oblivious to the years he and Bradley were broken up — he knows Bradley dated, even if nothing serious came out of it. Would he be as happy as he was to get back together with him if Bradley had a child with someone else, if he had been married?

Jake doesn't try to be subtle when he brings it up. "I think we should—discuss having children."

"There's nothing to discuss," Bradley replies instantly and he's avoiding looking at Jake, curt.

"Bradley—"

"Jake," he says. "You don't want to get married, you don't want children. I'm happy as we are. End of story."

"But you do want all that," Jake notes.

"I made peace with—this, okay, it's not—" It's obvious that Bradley is trying not to lie to him, choosing his words carefully. "You don't want to get married, you don't want children — there's no compromise to this, there's nothing we can do."

"We could get married and have children?"

"It's—admirable, that you want to make me happy, but I'm happy already."

"You don't look happy," Jake says because it all just seems so clear - the way Bradley doesn't want to have this conversation, the way he's closed up this part of life away from Jake.

"My point is, I'm not subjecting myself to a husband that didn't want to marry me in the first place and I'm not subjecting any child to a parent that didn't want them out of their own will. Both those things—you just can't force."

"What if we weren't forcing it?"

Finally, Bradley looks him in the eyes and asks, "Do you want to marry me?"

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, it doesn't really matter to me how we do it."

"Do you want children, Jake?"

"I don't know anymore."

"Those answers don't change anything then."

And Jake doesn't know why, fully, but it bothers him because for him everything suddenly changed.

[artiststarme]

A Grudge Be Held

Based on an enabling comment from @estrellami-1. Hope you guys like it and please leave me your opinions in the comments!

~*~*~*~

There are a few well known facts in the universe; the earth revolves around the sun, George Michael is gay, Tim Curry has sexy legs, and Eddie Munson holds grudges.

It wasn’t because he was a bad person or because he thought people were inherently bad, he’d just been through too much to waste his time on people that had already wronged him. He didn’t give more than one chance and if they fucked that up, well, they didn’t deserve another one.

He was usually lenient on what constituted a grudge to be held. Unless someone did something directly to him or someone he cared about, it didn’t really bother him and they certainly didn’t make his list. His parents were on there (because why wouldn’t they be?), Mrs. O’Donnell was on there because he was positive at least one of his failed senior years was due to her having a bone to pick with him, and Principal Higgins was on there too because fuck that guy.

Tommy Hagan was on the list because of a rumor started that made life hard for Eddie for awhile (it was true but needless to share), Jason Carver was on there now for starting a mob trying to kill him, and Billy Hargrove earned a spot for being an asshole to anything that moved.

A person that many people were surprised wasn’t on the list was Steve Harrington. The DnD party was shocked when they heard King Steve wasn’t an object of resentment in Eddie. But he’d never done anything out of malice to Eddie specifically. Where others saw confidence and pride, Eddie looked at a lonely and broken teen that was willing to do anything to fit in. He couldn’t hate him for that. And the time where Steve stood up for Eddie against Billy Hargrove at a drug deal gone wrong forever cemented him as a good guy in Eddie’s eyes.

After his experience with the Upside Down, psychic murders, and overall shitshow that was his Spring Break, Eddie and Steve got closer. Steve coerced everyone of authority to clear Eddie’s name with help from Robin, Nancy, and the passed Chief Hopper that apparently wasn’t actually dead. He housed Eddie and Wayne until they could find a new trailer that they could afford. Then he spent every waking moment making sure Eddie was alright and included as part of the group. In laymen’s terms, Steve saved his life.

So in true Eddie fashion, he made the internal dramatic decision that he would hold grudges on Steve’s behalf. He would be a guard dog of sorts, protecting and defending the love of his life his friend. What he didn’t consider was how difficult the task would be.

Through a new lens, Eddie saw that everyone walked all over Steve. The cashiers at the grocery store blatantly charged him extra, the customers at Family Video talked over him nearly every sentence in response to questions they asked, and teens on the street laughed at the scars in their view. Worse of all though, the Party didn’t respect him. Dustin and Mike told him several times a day how stupid he was, Nancy looked at him in pity and shut down all of his opinions, Lucas talked about not having sports in common with anyone right in front of him, and Robin kept blowing off their plans to hang with Vickie.

Through it all, Steve appeared fine. He smiled and nodded in all the right places but as soon as he thought the eyes moved on, his smile would slip to reveal something sadder. And so Eddie’s vengeance began.

He “accidentally” knocked over sales racks near the registers in the grocery store when they charged an extra $2 for milk. He keyed the cars of the teenagers that laughed at the evidence of Steve’s pain. When he saw Officer Callahan yacking at Steve for speeding, he picked up a dozen eggs and pelted the man’s house in revenge.

Dealing with the kids in the Party was trickier. His glares and barbed comebacks were clear enough for Nancy and Robin to change their ways. The kids though just weren’t observant enough to pick up on the clues Eddie tried to drop. One session of a campaign though, the perfect opportunity presented itself.

“I didn’t know there were dragons in the game. If you losers had told me there were dragons, I might’ve considered playing ages ago!” Steve exclaimed from his seat on the couch, intrigued eyes meeting Eddie’s.

Eddie smirked at him. “Oh yeah, Big Boy. You should know by now that I’m full of surprises.”

Steve blushed a little bit but as he went to respond, Mike interrupted. “Steve, you’re not even playing. You shouldn’t even be here much less interrupting the game!”

Steve’s flush turned pale and he shrunk into himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just uh, I can go. I’ll see you guys later.”

As he moved to get up though, Eddie stood and towered over the table.

“Wait Steve, you’re gonna want to see this part.” He glowered at Mike and rasped his voice to transition back to DM’ing. “A comet flies from the dragon’s cavern and lands on Sir Madeon. Roll for damage.”

“What the hell! No, you can’t do that!” Mike stammered with a dropped jaw.

“I just did, pipsqueak. Roll for damage or die trying.”

“14,” Mike muttered. He glared at Eddie then Steve before pouting in his seat.

“The comet is too large to escape from. Sir Madeon tries to run but he’s not fast enough to avoid the flying stone. It lands on his back in a fiery crumble. The intense heat eats through his flesh, bones, and organs at once leaving only his head and limbs intact, scattered amongst the rest of the Party. He dies a horrendous death and his friends are left alone with only the smell of charred remains to remember him by.” Eddie ends his tirade with a quirked eyebrow. That’ll show these little assholes what happens when they mess with him. A quick glance at Steve shows him excitement and surprise, he absolutely was not expecting that.

“What the fuck. This is supposed to be PG,” Dustin stares at Eddie in horror. “You really just killed a character in the middle of a campaign for Steve?”

“Roll stealth and damage.” Eddie tells him deadpan.

“God-fucking-dammit! Eddie, no, please…”

“Roll or face the consequences!”

“3 stealth, Nat-20 damage,” Dustin whispered with his face in his hands. The other kids watch Eddie in a mixture of confusion and aghastment. But Steve is beaming, teeth shining from ear to ear.

“The dragon hears your cries of grief and turns its burly head towards you. Its glimmering eyes reach the you and the rest of the Party and you see its scaled lips open in a human like smile. With a speed you could never have anticipated, it slithers toward you before standing on muscled hind legs and flapping its leathery wings. Its lips curl around a blue flame. The last thing you feel is a flash of ice before you see no more.

Your friends see you disappear into a pile of ash, the heat of the flame too powerful to escape. The dragon whips its tail towards the party while they stare at where you used to stand. Will the Wise can’t even list his magical staff before the weight of the tail crushes him to the ground in a pile of shattered bones and bloody sinnew.

Luther is impaled by one of the dragon’s back spikes and killed immediately. The light in his eyes fades and all he sees is a figure with a crown waving at him in the distance. Prince Stephen and his pet dragon prosper in the face of their trespassing adversaries once again but the only witnesses to the horror are erased from the Earth.”

The boys stare at him in shock while he arranges his papers and stands. “The end. Steve and I are going to the movies. You bitchasses aren’t invited and if you’re even a little bit nasty to Steve again, I’ll pulverize you in real life just like I killed you in the campaign. Think on that.”

With that, Eddie grabs the hand of a stunned Steve and drags him from the Wheeler’s basement. After that debacle, he’s sure that the kids have gotten their point. And now he’s got a movie to see with his main man.

(The kids absolutely get his point and moving forward are a lot nicer to Steve. And a little scared of how Eddie’s mind works.

Eddie holds a grudge against the kids for months and will still reference their comments when he sees fit for the rest of their lives or at least the rest of his.

And Steve? He starts dating his DM in shining armor a mere two hours later.)

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[caelivir]

red lips, dying for a kiss | rayne ames

— synopsis. in which rayne discovers that red lip combos are his weakness.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. university au, friends-ish to lovers, rayne has a little bit of a crush

— word count. 2.3k

— warnings. very brief violence mention in the beginning, alcohol consumption (rayne and reader are 21 in this), making out (i tried to keep it brief), ooc rayne but he’s kinda drunk so

— notes. breaking theme for this one but it’s okay. i wanted to drop this on valentine’s day… clearly that didn’t work out. also as i go to post this hidden lights reached 1k notes which is absolutely insane to think of. thank you for giving it so much love. anyway, happy 100 followers! thanks for sticking with me. enjoy!

dedicated to all the rayne girlies. i pray we find (or already have) a man like him. ♡

ryoh’s parties are always a bad idea. rayne can’t count the number of times something has gone wrong. cops show up. someone locks every single bathroom from the inside. a dumbass jumps off the roof and into the pool. any incident you could think of has probably happened. the last one rayne went to nearly got him screwed over when he fought against a guy picking on his brother, and it was not pretty (for the other guy) to say the least.

from that moment on, rayne had made the decision to never attend another one of ryoh’s parties. it doesn’t matter who begged him or what the circumstances were. no one was going to change his mind on that.

unfortunately, ryoh grantz would not have that. it took three days and a two hundred dollar bribe to convince rayne to go because who would he be if not taking advantage of the rich.

so that’s where he finds himself now, standing in a circle with his friends as music blasts in ryoh’s mansion. they talk about who knows what as rayne wishes he could go home. he has to see it out though because this would be the easiest two hundred dollars he would ever make.

his second red solo cup of the night is filled with some unknown (but surprisingly delicious) concoction that sits untouched. he swirls the cup around in his hand, his eyes darting around the room for an escape.

rayne chugs his entire drink down, setting the empty cup on the first surface he finds before mumbling an excuse of having to use the bathroom, not caring whether his friends heard it or not. he stops by the kitchen to rummage through a cooler, skin freezing as he digs through the ice. he finds two cans of a beer brand that he likes.

he weaves through the crowd in the living room, trying his best to not bump into anyone or spill any drinks because the last thing he needs is another altercation.

unfortunately for him, life always has a curveball in store for him.

“hey, look! (y/n)’s here!” someone had yelled, causing people to push closer towards the front door. the flow carries him closer despite his protests.

the half blonde finds you easily. it’s hard to miss your bright smile, even in a room surrounded by dozens. a crowd surrounds you and your group of friends. they greet you with hellos, offer drinks, and fight for your attention. you try your best to address everyone as you and your friends inch closer to the dance floor.

rayne knows you. your friend groups overlap often so he was bound to meet you at one point. you're popular around campus, known for your friendly nature, kind acts, and most of all, you're known for your beauty. he hears about a new attempt to gain your affection almost weekly. you never seem to accept them for some odd reason. it doesn't matter who it is. the d1 basketball prodigy? the rich girl in your philosophy class? they'd be rejected all the same. your lack of care for relationships has sparked up rumors, but even those never seem to faze you.

as for his opinion on you, rayne acutally likes you, which is a rare feat considering that the half-blonde cannot stand the presence of most people. but in this case, he likes you. he has the smallest of crushes that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone except his brother, maybe.

in the times your paths had crossed, you had been an easy person to be around, never doing anything to irritate him and always trying to include him in every conversation and activity. it makes him feel all warm inside. the thought of it brings the ghost of a smile onto his face.

he also can't deny that you are indeed one of the most beautiful people that he's ever come across. you would have to be a fool to try and deny that. it's a little shallow on his part to like you partly for your looks, but he can't help it when your smile has the power to blind angels.

"rayne?" your head tilts, surprise written all over your face. he locates two shots in your hands. "woah, i'm surprised you're here! people said you wouldn't come to these anymore!"

rayne is barely to pick up the sound of your voice over all the music. "got paid to be here." he speaks loudly, avoiding yelling as much as he can.

"well, that's one way to get someone to come to a party." you giggle.

it's at this point where rayne closely inspects your face. his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips, colored in a combination of reds. he's never seen it on you before, and paired with the rest of the makeup on your face, it stands out, commands attention.

and it looks… really fucking good. rayne takes the sight of you in fully. yeah, you look really fucking good tonight. the half-blonde gulps, forcing his eyes back up to your face.

"take this with me!" you urge rayne, holding out a plastic shot glass to him.

unwilling to bring himself to say no to you, rayne sighs, accepting it. the two of you raise your glasses up in a silent toast before pressing the plastic to his lips, tilting his head back, and letting the alcohol slide down his throat. it burns. it tastes horrid on his tastebuds. the half-blonde scrunches his nose in disgust, and you take the empty glass from him, how you went unbothered by such a disgusting beverage is beyond him.

as much as rayne wishes he could be with you, he desperately longs to find someplace quiet. the bass of the music pounds against his head. "i'll see you around, (y/n). have fun tonight. be safe." rayne says.

"oh okay. see you rayne." you frown, but maybe that's just the lighting messing with him. he swears there's disappointment laced in your voice, but that could also just be the alcohol playing games with him.

rayne makes his way upstairs. he prays that he won't barge into people having sex. luckily for him, it's still early, and the room that he chooses, the one at the very end of the hall, is empty. he relaxes the moment he locks the door as if a weight was being lifted off him.

the half-blonde sets his unopened beers onto the nightstand and lies on the made bed. he stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, contemplating his life choices. his thoughts drift to you and your gorgeous lips, but he’s quick to dismiss them. when he’s finished with that, he cracks open his first beer, leaving a ring of condensation on the nightstand, and opens up his phone.

the next hour or so is spent watching compilations of bunnies and sipping on his beers. it’s perfectly fine like this. save for the bass of the music bouncing against the walls, it’s peaceful. he feels the effects of the alcohol he drank humming in his veins. it puts him into a lighter mood. however, that peace is disturbed when there’s a loud pounding on the door.

“what the hell?” rayne mumbles under his breath. did someone confuse this room for the bathroom? the half-blonde pulls himself out of bed, unlocks the door, and cracks it open just a little bit to see who it is.

“rayne, is that you? oh my god, please let me in.” you beg, clasping your hands together in prayer.

confused, but without any complaint, he allows you into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

you practically collapse on the edge of the bed, and rayne can sense that something is amiss.

“are you alright?” he asks cautiously, standing a foot away from you.

“do you ever just get sick of people?” you ponder suddenly, shooting to sit straight up.

“sure.” rayne shrugs, still unmoving from his spot.

“you can’t tell anyone i told you this,” you point at him with narrowed eyes, voice slurred. “swear you won’t.”

“i won’t.”

“good.” you nod. “as i was saying, i get so sick of people sometimes. being popular is fucking exhausting. i don’t know how much longer i can keep up with this. i swear i can’t enjoy things on my own time without people barging in or commenting on it.

“i can’t sit on a couch to catch my breath without people wanting to talk to me. not that that’s bad of course, i love talking to people, but christ, just back up a bit. like can’t they just take a hint and realize that i don’t want to talk? do you get that?”

rayne nods. “must be rough.”

“it is,” you groan and then sigh, standing up to dust off your clothes. you stumble from dizziness after having gotten up too fast. however, you shake the feeling out. “sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. that was a stupid thing to complain about.”

“no, it wasn’t.” rayne argues. “people who are always in your space are fucking annoying. i would know so there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.” at this point, he could tell the alcohol is doing its number on him, making him more vocal and bold.

“do i annoy you, rayne?” you ask, eyelashes batting at him, this innocent worry behind your eyes. it drives him mad.

“no.” he says sternly, inching closer, his gaze falling to your crimson lips. that damn red lipstick. he wonders what would happen if he were to mess it up. what would happen if he were to ruin that precise lining of color? what you let him cross that line? in his tipsy state of mind, he wants to find out.

“are you sure? because i know whenever we see each other i kinda cling to you, but if that bothers you, just let me know. really it’s no-” you ramble before rayne cuts you off.

“i want to kiss you.” the half-blonde mutters. his eyes stare deep into your own. your eyebrows raise in shock.

"huh?"

"i want" rayne's hand flexes at his side as he exhales, resisting the urge to touch you. "to kiss you."

"why?" you whisper so quietly that he almost didn't hear you.

maybe this is a reckless decision. maybe he shouldn't be risking a friendship with a drunken mind, but honestly in the moment, he really couldn't care less. he can regret it in the morning if things fell apart.

"i like you." rayne admits.

a moment of silence falls onto the room. you stare and stare, sinking your eyes deep into rayne’s as his confession weighs further down onto you.

“oh thank god.” you exhale, pulling rayne in by his shirt.

rayne practically melts into the feeling of your lips, soft against his own. he can taste faint traces of alcohol on you. he places his hands on your hips to press your bodies together. his palms explore your figure, circling around your lower back, trailing upwards to your ribs and back down to your waist. your hands entangle themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan out of him.

kissing you is a feeling like no other. it’s straight euphoria, maybe even something greater than that. the butterflies flap violently on his stomach. fireworks ignite his blood. being with you is like soaring across the sky.

you deepen the kiss, exploring each other with such desperation that it makes you dizzy. his tongue moves against yours in perfect sync, as if it were a choreographed dance. by the time you pull away to catch air, you and rayne are breathless, huffing as the half-blonde rests his forehead against yours.

you beautiful red lipstick is now smeared across your mouth, staining at the corners and below the chin. rayne pulls his head back. his fingers graze over your lips, admiring the mess. he’s sure it transferred onto him as well.

“you got something right there.” you joke, pointing at him.

“shut up.” he whispers. however, a smile breaks out onto his face, betraying his words.

“so,” you say, snaking your arms around the half-blonde’s waist. “the rayne ames has a crush on me? i never thought i’d see the day.”

he hums as confirmation. “would i be wrong to guess that you like me too?”

“no.” you grin. “in fact, you’d be one hundred percent right.”

“wonderful.” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss. you turn your head, having him miss your mouth entirely.

“i’m starting to believe you only like me so you could have a make out partner.” you tease, causing the half-blonde to sigh at your antics.

“i like you because you’re kind.”

he pecks one cheek.

“because you’re fun.”

he pecks the other.

“because you’re intelligent.”

he presses his stained lips to your forehead.

“because you’re so beautiful.”

rayne kisses the tip of your nose.

“my beautiful, (y/n).” he mumbles with a barely noticeable slur, cupping your face.

“you should drink more often. i like this side of you.” you comment, looking up at him with a gaze that drives him crazy.

“please just let me kiss you again.” rayne quietly begs, his mouth centimeters from yours.

“kiss me whenever you want.” you whisper before colliding with him once more.

in the morning, ryoh has to pick the lock to get into the guest bedroom. he stumbles in pissed off and ready to blow up on the person who dared to put him through such a hassle.

however, the sight he walks into flips his mood instantly. ryoh finds you and rayne tangled in each other’s arms completely knocked out. upon closer inspection, he notes the matching lipstick stains on both of your mouths, and a knowing smirk spreads across his face.

the blonde man pulls out his phone, snapping pictures in different angles to solidify this moment in history.

“he better thank me for this.” ryoh says to himself before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

[mikobeautifulheart]

hey sweetie!! its meee again!! (the one who requested the drunk megumi fic lmaoo)

ummm can you do megumi again??

so basically after a super tiring day, the reader and Megumi decided to chill in megumi's room. they get cozy and then they get intimate…. (no smut please!, JUST A STEAMY HOT MAKE OUT SESSION like before (with tongue [this is embarrassing now…]) AARRGHH!!.. and can you like, drag the make out session?? i mean, make it longer.) ummmmm then, gojo happens to pass by his room. he hears noises 👀👀(of smooches ofc)… he dramatically sighs like a proud dad considering how much megumi has grown and changed over time. (since he raised him). he then teleports into his room and takes a photo of them without them knowing(??) (idk the photo part, write whatever feels good!) he then teases megumi about it!!

and ofc do it only if it feels comfy for you!!

thanks a lot in advance!!!!!!!! <3333333333

Tehehe I almost jumped when I saw ur request anon, ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIVE.

Megumi and you getting caught up in the moment.

(And on Gojos phone)

TW: THERE WILL BE A MAKEOUT SESSION BUT NOT SMUT. and probably second hand embarrassment.

Maybe 800-900 wordsssish

UNNNNNNNEDDDITEDDD

You went over to Megumis dorm after training to study for your up coming tests. Why do you even have tests anyway your a sorcerer. Whatever any excuse is good enough of you get to hang with Megumi. You guys did actually study for a bit until the sun went down. That's when Megumi started to wrap things up. Even though it had been a few hours you were still hot and bothered from training, and Megumi knew that.

"My shower room is next to my bed room if you want to clean up." He said as he got up to put his study matierials back on his shelf. The best thing out having a small amount of students at Jujutsu High is how good the dorms get.

"If you don't mind."You said going to walk to the room. You paused

"Uh maybe not I didn't bring any clothes and my dorm is across campus..." You mumbled

"You can borrow some of mine" Megumi said hearing everything.

"Oh thanks" you said. Just thinking about being in his clothes makes you heat up.

You opened the bathroom door, spotless, as expected of Megumi. You suddenly felt him behind you making you turn around only to look right up at him.

"Sorry...but here the clothes" he said handing you a shirt and pants.

"Towels are in the corner over there" he mumbled before walking away.

"Thank you" you said going into the room and closing the door behind you.

What was he doing? He knew he wasn't supposed to have anyone in his dorm after 9:00 pm, let alone you. If he gets caught he would be doomed. He flung himself onto his bed, face in pillow and sighing loudly. The tips of his ears were red. He knows he's breaking the rules but...you...you were in his bathroom right now and you'll step out wearing HIS clothes. The image in his mind makes him groan. What was he going to do? You definitely weren't going back to your dorm, not that he wanted you to. And even if you tried to then you would get caught and he would just feel guilty.

Megumi would be lying if he said he never wanted this. He just hoped you did to. Just as he almost suffocated himself in his pillow he heard the bathroom door open. Footsteps filled his mind as you finally came into his view. He sat up and looked at you speechless. The way his clothes nearly slowed you whole made his heart explode. You rubbed the towel against your hair trying to get it as dry as possible before you set the towel aside and joined him on his bed.

There was an akward silence as it was taking everything in Megumi to keep his composure.

"Have you ever had a crush on anyone before Megumi" you asked out of the blue.

It obviously caught him off guard as he moved over to the other side of his bed to give you more space.

"Well...yeah I guess." He said rubbing the back of his neck starting straight at the wall infront of him. He could feel your eyes on him.

"What dose it feel like? Because I think I like someone right now." You said cheek flushed pink. You were nervous. You've been crushing on megimi for a while now but you didn't know how to take it out of the 'friend zone' so you figured that you should just go for it.

"Well it's like your having a heart attack." He starts.

"Then it makes you feel like you want to gently play with their hair" He says reaching out and taking a strand of your hair in-between his fingers.

"And then it makes you feel all hot and embarrassed but it dosent really matter when their so pretty."

You blush harded meeting Megumis gaze and refusing to look away.

"But when you reay like someone, it's love. And love makes you want to do this." He said hand letting go of your hair only to go behind your head and pull you into his lips.

You kiss. You kissed?

He pulled away for a moment letting out a hot breath.

"And it makes you tell them how much you need them and how you would die with out them."

He gose back into the kiss, but this time he slowly put his other arm around your back and lowered you gently onto the bed as the kiss deepened.

You part for a second and said

"Megumi I've never done this before, but I think I like it and I like you"

"I think I like you to" he said

He kissed you again but on your neck, making you groan.

Meanwhile when you guys were at the hight of your night a white haired menace walked by. He has 6 eyes there's nothing you can keep from him, that's why he was disappointed in Megumi because he thought he would have known that by now.

He decided to give Megumi a pass thinking it was iust Him and Yuji haning out until he heard a higher pitched groan. He opened the door slightly and looked into the room to see MEGUMI??? ON TOP OF Y/N???? A thousand thoughts went through his mind. Is he a womaniser? Is that the only thing Megumi learned while he was raised by Gojo? But he's only a kid! So are you...But your not kids anymore...but THATS HIS SON! And he was proud? A grin spread across his face as he closed the door and teleported beside Megumis book shelf, that was facing away from you guys.

"Y/N... I...I need you" Megumi said

"Megumi-" you said, your lips parting perfectly, almost irresistibly. So he went in again, this time he slipped his toung in making you gasp.

Gojo was mortified on one hand, he raised his son well, on the other hand he didn't know if Megumi should even be doing this... Eventually he settled on the 'do now consequence later' method. Before he left he snapped a picture and quickly teleported away.

"Hm. What's wrong Megumi?" You asked as he pulled away and looked around his room.

"It was nothing, I just thought I heard something" He said before going back down.

AUTHOURS NOTE: Thank youieee for the request my most loyal anon and I hope this time I did better (Romance wise) i mean be honest with me, I want to write what you people actually want so your going to have to be honest. Anyways im going to sleep now Gn. and thanks for reading.

You guys were heating up so much that the window started to gain condensation. Megumi deepened the kiss even more taking your breath away. You to were impossibly close together but craved to be closer. You put your arms up and wrapped them around Megumis neck making him go deeper into the kiss again.

One of your hands couldn't help but wander into his hair, playing with it while being high off love. He trailed kisses down your neck leaving a hicky here and there, tounge swiping over each one giving you chills.

"Megumiii~ " you groaned voice sounding like heaven to him.

"Mmm" He said in-between his bites

"What if someone sees them?" You say.

Honestly he could careless about who ever saw them, right now he only wanted you.

"Let them." He said before lifting is face above yours.

" I don't care who sees. Do you?" He asked

You shook your head as a 'not before he smirked and crashed into your lips again.

The next day after traning Gojo took Mefumi aside to talk.

"Look son-im so proud of you, you've grown so much from the mini Megumi I knew" Gojo said pretending to wipe a fake tear from his eye

"Son?"

"Yeah, well word of advice form an expert, I get you'll die without her but you gotta be quieter and don't have your make out sessions when IM on night watch at YOUR dorms okay?"

"What the hell are you talking abou-"

Gojo pulls up the picture of Megumis face hovering above yours.

"YOU CREEP WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY DORM" He yelled trying to take the phone off Gojo.

"MORE LIKE WHAT WAS SHE DOING IN YOUR DORM!"

"DELET THAT!" Megumi yelled

"No, It's going in your photo album" Gojo said turning on his infinity so Megumi was no match.

"And maybe for her birthday you should get her a scarf to cover those 'bed bug bites'"

"SHUT UP YOU PERVET, IM CALLING C.P.C ON YOU!"

Across the field you saw Megumi yelling at Gojo, throwing things at his infinity when Yuji suddenly snapped you out of your distraction.

"Hey Y/N maybe you should get a new Marree, those bed bug bites on your neck look really bad." He said out of genuine concern.

"Uh YEAH ILL DO THAT" you squeaked turning read and pulling your collar up to hide the red marks on your neck.

"You and Fushiguro sure got the bed bugs bad" Nobora smirked looking at you knowing that no way in hell was that a bed bugs work.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

[mariacallous]

Trump is staffing his cabinet with billionaires, who will break the government out of incompetence, spite, or avarice. So why not just go for class politics, and forget about everything else? As the country reaches unprecedented levels of inequality, why not just tear off the oligarchs' masks? Why not present them as merchants of death?

We should all know who they are, how wealthy they are, from what sources, and how they profit from holding power. And, in some better future, we should all benefit from anti-oligarchical policies that make us all more free. We have to talk about inequality, about class.

But America cannot get to social justice only by talking about class. I want to consider the last few weeks and months -- the campaign, its outcome, the CEO assassination -- to think through how an effective opposition might work.

The election itself gives is an important clue. Oligarchy could have been halted at the ballot box. Harris would have been very different from Trump on taxes and redistribution. Sure, she might have run from further on the Left, but she was not herself a wannabe oligarch, and would not have built a cabinet of oligarchs. Had the Democrats controlled Congress, her policies would have continued a trend toward redistribution that Biden had begun. Even without Congress, she would have prevented the Trumpian oligarchical orgy. So if people had wanted to prevent rule by billionaires, they could have done so.

Harris suffered from an incumbency problem. It was a "change" election. Around the world and for several years, post-covid, it has been strikingly hard for incumbents to win. The question, though, is why Trump got to be the "change" candidate. Here is a hint of why just referring to class will never be enough. The candidate who would have changed American society in the direction of equality was not the change candidate. The candidate who was associated with wealth was. This can only be understood as culture.

Rule by the wealthy is not change. The wealthy, putting it gently, have been in charge before. The oligarchs don't actually need the support of the voters to have more than sufficient power in the United States. Why did voters support them? I spent most of October in the Midwest and Great Plains, entirely in states that went for Trump (except Illinois). It is harder and harder to have these conversations, but I think I have some notion.

Trump voters saw their guy as the outsider, even though he has already been president once, and has been very present in media for forty years. For Harris voters, the fact that she is Black and a woman make her an outsider; for Trump voters, or at least for many of the ones with whom I spoke, they make her an insider. And that notion that women and Blacks direct a deep state is a cultural construct.

For Trump voters, or at least many of the ones with whom I spoke this fall, Trump's (supposed) wealth also made him the change candidate. Anyone who is wealthy is seen as a daredevil who broke the rules. The image of Trump as a trailblazer was created by the man himself, not by actual earnings. More deeply, though, the notion of the wealthy person as a hero is an American cultural construct. It makes of voting a cultural act: I want to feel like I am a part of that.

So when people say we need a class war, I sympathize. The grotesque inequality of wealth in the United States is at the root of countless problems. I dwell on this in both On Freedom and Road to Unfreedom. And, of course, in the coming years, cities and states should redistribute wealth and provide social services, thereby helping people to become free. At the national level, though, you cannot just declare a class war, because you cannot decide what class people belong to for them, or tell them what their class interests are. Even basic interests, like staying alive, being safe, or having money, are experienced in emotional contexts. Class anxiety can lead right to oligarchy or fascism or both.

If you are an oligarch, you know this. You win the class war by fighting the culture war. You engage negatively with both class and culture. You never say: "hey, I am Elon Musk, and I care about you, therefore I am writing every American family a check for $5,000." You stay away from numbers and math. You tell a story about how the wealth of the wealthy somehow benefits everyone. And you reinforce the idea that the people who threaten the prosperity of your voters are those who threaten their culture. And so Blacks or immigrants or transsexuals (or whoever) are always presented as threatened both prosperity and identity.

On the other side, those who want democracy rather than oligarchy must engage positively with culture in order to engage with class. That people even have a class identity is not given by nature. It is a result of education, experience, camaraderie. The welfare state was curtailed at its foundation in the 1930s and weakened in the 1980s because of racism. Labor unions became effective at defending wages when they became effective at admitting non-Whites. Americans deny themselves the policies that would serve them because of culture, because of who they see as the real people, the real citizens. And that is why we cannot effectively care about economic inequality without practical, everyday understanding of racial other sorts of inequality.

Orwell said that it is a constant struggle to see what is right in front of your nose. Culture can blind us to the obvious. Non-Blacks tend to project onto Blacks political irrationality and "identity politics." But who in America votes consistently with their economic interests? African Americans, in general. And is this because they are somehow free of culture, and just more rational than the rest of us? Perhaps. Or is it rather that they are not subject to the dominant form of identity politics, and can see through it? And that this knowledge is not just the experience of one life, but generationally transmitted, deeply connected to the actual history of the country? The very notion that African Americans are the savviest voters is practically unsayable in American English.

Let me give a second example of how culture frames what we see. Affirmative action by universities on the basis of race has been banned by the Supreme Court. But the largest affirmative action at universities, as an honest admissions officer will tell you, is on the basis of gender. In college admissions, boys with worse grades are favored over girls with better grades. (Did you have to read that sentence twice?) But it is unthinkable that a woman could bring and win a case at the Supreme Court on the basis of the discrimination that girls inarguably suffer in university admissions. That all of this is practically unsayable is a sign of how the culture works.

When we say "identity politics" in American English, we are usually invoking women, or Blacks, or gender or sexual minorities. That is itself a sign of how deeply culture affects our judgements, and by "culture" here I mean a deeply rooted sense, among many of us, of what is normal and therefore unworthy of comment. The most powerful form of identity politics is Trump's, and it goes something like this: "I am a rich white guy who breaks all the rules and who therefore gets to make them, and so you should enjoy the feel of my hand in your pocket as I pick it."

Of course, we should pass policies that address economic inequality where and when we can. But there are barriers to the success of this at a national level, barriers that the coming Trumpomuskovite regime will raise even higher. The oligarchs understand all this, and those who wish to resist or defeat them must know how to turn a vicious circle into a virtuous one.

The work that has to be done on American racism is hard, and it is part of the work that has to be done on American social injustice. This might seem to make matters harder. But it doesn't, really. The impossible is harder than the difficult, and so avoiding the impossible is a good idea. Trying to do things that are impossible, like addressing class without addressing culture, is not the right use of energy.

And in an important way these realizations makes matters easier. The work that needs to be done in the culture has to be done every day. But that means that it can be done every day, in small ways, by all of us.

Some of that everyday work involves our analysis of the election. Personally, I hold the unpopular view that Harris ran a good campaign, if not a perfect one, and that the reasons she lost -- anti-incumbency, the internet generally, Twitter bias, Musk's money, Trump's talent, media cowardice, U.S. history -- were not things we can really blame her for not overcoming in a few months. I do agree with some lines of critique: I think that she should have let Walz be Walz, and used more grandiose language about her economic policies.

Where I disagree is the notion that Harris lost because of her "identity politics." She did not run her campaign on "identity politics" in the sense that is meant. Harris did not emphasize being Indian, or Black, or a woman. Trump's campaign, however was identity politics from start to finish. Trump ran as a rich white guy and won; Harris ran as an American and lost.

Trump succeeded because of his identity politics, which brings race and class together in a certain way. By connecting the desire for change with emotions that make it impossible, he (and many others) generate, in the end, sadopopulism: a politics that works not because all benefit but because some learn to take pleasure in the greater suffering of others. Deportations have to be understood in this light: they are a spectacle of the suffering of others. So does mass incarceration.

A test for this, as we have been recently reminded, is health. Persuading people that it is normal to pay for shorter lives is the litmus test of sadopopulism. In America, we do in fact pay exorbitant amounts of money to harmful middlemen who kill us by denying us care that we could afford if their scam did not exist. (It is a sign of our cultural problem that we say "insurance" or "health care" when we mean "death grift.") The recent assassination of the CEO of the misnamed company UnitedHealthcare brought the middleman problem into focus. On the internet, people on the Right joined people on the Left is sharing family stories of expense, uncertainty, suffering and death.

Will it matter that almost everyone agrees? Why did people who want better health care vote for Trump? Why do we not have a single-payer system? Who do we pay so much more and get so much less than other people in other countries? Why was it so hard for both Bill Clinton and Barack Obama, who were very popular presidents, to pass the kind of health care reform they favored? Part of it is, of course, that we have too much money in politics (a class factor, let's say); but part of it is that many people who would gain security, prosperity, and lifespan from a better system don't want it if they have to share it with others (a culture factor, let's say).

How this will play out under the coming Trump regime is a test. If Trump were a true populist, which he is not, he would seize on the issue of health care to gain support from Americans all over the political spectrum (this is an idea I steal from Kate Woodsome). The grifter king must protect all grifts. UnitedHealthcare, a company that makes lots of money by delivering a lethal absence, represents just the sort of capitalism that a Trump regime must celebrate. Indeed, the plan in the middle term (RFK JR.) seems to be to make us all sicker, so that even more advanced grifts are possible.

And so in Trumpomuskovia a way will have to be found to change the subject from health care, to blame the Blacks or the migrants or the trans people for all the lethal dysfunctionality, to connect the assassin himself to some conspiracy of unlikable figures, or something. It's not clear just how this will work -- most likely, the first move will be not to move at all, in the reasonable hope that the policies of January and February and March will be so frightening that people will forget about health care. And maybe this will work.

If it does, we can look forward to a new kind of fascism. In the traditional sort, your children had to die on the front to perpetuate a vision of racial glory. In this iteration, your children have to die of diseases so that people who are already billionaires can become wealthier. The Trumpomuskovian policy will be to keep the death-grift billionaires we have, and create new ones by ending vaccinations and thereby opening the snake oil market.

This is a deepening of class differences, between the wealthy and the long-lived and the financially and existentially precarious. It is possible future thanks not only to greed, but also to a culture in which we don't see our own health care problems as everyone's, and in which we can be easily drawn, by personal fears that activate prejudice, away from seeing ourselves as part of a larger class of people who could be living better and longer lives.

All the same, it won't be enough to be outraged at the terrible injustice in the abstract. Even when the issue is life itself, "class not race" won't work. We need the mode of outrage at the numbers. But we will also need the mode of empathy for African Americans and others whose marginalization has been used to keep health care -- and good policy generally -- from coming about. This is the most important effort, over time. How shock, including the shock of illness, strikes a population depends on how that population has prepared itself. And, yet, we will also need empathy for people who voted for Trump and who get sick. People change their minds, but not usually when they are suffering alone. This is a different kind of move, hard for different reasons, but necessary.

About class, about differences in wealth, we need clarity, and we need outrage. But we will not get far without equal clarity about race. Without empathy for others, we cannot see ourselves. Without empathy, every inequality can get worse, and will. But Trump and Musk and other oligarchs can be stopped when they try to blame our health care debacle on those who suffer the most from it. They can be stopped when they try to ban vaccines and profit from further disease and death. With empathy, health care might just be an issue where the oligarchy fails to consolidate, and the people begin to hear themselves speak.