#Let's hope I stay motivated
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
one-world-many-stories-asks · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Midnight: Hey, coming live from our college dorm room, it's Midnight and Eve. Ask us stuff.
Eve: Hi!!
Hello! This is an ask blog for my OCs! I will also sometimes post random art of them!
ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS:
They live in a fantasy world mixed with the real world mixed with some sci-fi shit lol. We won't just be seeing these two! More characters will be unlocked for asks the more characters that get introduced/brought up!
Currently open for asks:
Midnight
Eve
ABOUT THE CREATOR/MODERATOR:
Hi! You can call me Mod Celestia or EGC-563! I use she/he/xe/they/it/bot/star pronouns and I'm VERY passionate about these characters! I love writing and I wanna share my OCs with everyone else on tumblr via an ask blog! My art is pretty bad tho lol. Constructive criticism is appreciated! Also all of the backgrounds will be ibis paint x free images until I learn how to do backgrounds lol
2 notes · View notes
thatbuddie · 7 months ago
Text
los angeles wasn't built in a day
buck/eddie | 44k (so far) | 4/5 chapters | rated m | post-season five, getting together, fake dating (in a sense)
“We’re not going to pretend to be divorced just so Chris can get into a summer camp, Buck,” Eddie says, trying to sound convincing even as he starts to feel his resolution crumbling inside of him. “Why not?” Buck asks, sounding genuinely baffled, like he can’t understand Eddie’s refusal at all. And how does Eddie begin to explain the irrationality of his rational denial? He can’t tell Buck the real reason he can’t go through with it. He can’t tell him without having to reach into his chest, clawing out his heart, setting it down at Buck’s feet still beating, and saying, “Because the only thing worse than loving you knowing I can’t have you would be having to pretend like I didn’t love you enough to keep you with me forever.” (or the fake ex husbands to fake husbands to husbands fic.)
chapter one: summer was coming and change was, too (10.3k)
chapter two: look at me now, i'm falling at your feet (15.8k)
chapter three: even in nature, timing is everything (10.6k)
chapter four: when we're on fire, it's something to see (8.1k)
chapter five
(read on ao3.)
287 notes · View notes
elizakai · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
An old drawing of them…
I love the amount of stories this dynamic can lead to.
732 notes · View notes
azaracyy · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
today, cupimon prays for your happiness too.
28 notes · View notes
legobiwan · 2 years ago
Text
Cut Scenes #1
Sometimes you have really good ideas, but they just. don't. fit. into your story (no matter how hard you try to push the triangle into the rectangle hole). So, as I get back on the writing horse (heigh-yo silver and all that jazz), have a continuing series of cut scenes that will likely never find a home. (Also known as, why am I giving these guys such an angsty backstory? I'm sorry, Mario and Luigi, one day I'll write you something that isn't my usual brand of melodrama. Maybe a baseball story because do I have ideas about who'd they be rooting for in 1980-whatever. Also, let's hope that some of these future cut scenes will also involve my Star Wars stuff, as well).
Anyway, Cut Scene #1, from an ongoing SPM fic I'm working on that's going to be a Mario POV during the events of Mr. L because apparently I cannot shake this storyline from my head.
--------
Yes, they had fought, had hurt each other, even. But never with the intent to truly do harm, to damage the other in a way that couldn’t be taken back, couldn’t be assuaged with a mumbled apology or mended with a desperate hug. 
Only once had Luigi attacked him with intent, with raw violence, but even then…
Luigi was stalking through the apartment, overturning papers and books, opening drawers and cabinets and closet doors with wild and noisy abandon. He emerged from the bathroom with a long, metal pipe, which he gave a few experimental swings, nearly taking out a stubby beige lamp perched on the edge of a ring-stained coffee table.  
"I'm going down to Red Hook and dealing with them," he muttered at Mario, "them" being the men who had plucked their father’s plumbing business right from under their noses, the deal finalized not even an hour after Dad's body had been laid in the earth. 
Like hell he is, Mario thought, picking his way across the cluttered floor as Luigi was busying himself wrapping the last roll of electrical tape around the base of his improvised weapon. 
Brick wall, Mario told himself, recalling his nickname from high school as he took position in front of the apartment door, crossing his arms against his burly chest. It didn't matter how much abuse Luigi hurled at him, he'd be a brick wall. It didn't matter if Luigi hated him forever, he'd be a brick wall. It didn't matter if Luigi started throwing punches, or tried to send his head over the right field wall of Shea Stadium with that damn pipe. Mario was going to stand there for the next twenty years if that was what it took. Because his baby brother was being an idiot and was going to get himself pounded into next year - or worse - by the Marinellis and their goon squad if Mario let him leave this apartment.
It went as badly as he expected, Luigi making the leap from insults and curses to spitting and threats, rushing at him, pipe brandished over his head.
Mario let it happen. He let his little brother slam metal into cheap plaster. Let him pound his fists against hard muscle and fragile bone. Let him carry out his rage again and again until they both collapsed into a sweaty, panting heap on the tacky linoleum floor, Luigi half in Mario’s lap, sobbing into his brother’s bloodied, torn shirt.
...but even then, Luigi had been acting out of hurt, out of anger and pain. Not staring Mario in the face, cackling wildly about the end of the world while calling a gigantic laser-shooting robot to his side.
103 notes · View notes
autistic-shaiapouf · 9 months ago
Text
What do you mean I have to get up and do the work if I wanna try to make money <- guy who has been doing work nonstop and needs to give it a fucking rest
3 notes · View notes
mangoagate · 9 months ago
Text
I’ll say it, the lobby boy and the hotel herself are like Christine daaé and the phantom to me… Guy who shapes her form and woman who molds to it happily…
5 notes · View notes
seraphim-soulmate · 1 year ago
Text
oguagh I've been going to sleep very late recently bcs I'm not winding down from the day early enough so of course I feel like shit the next day but I still have a bunch of anxious energy so I still do a bunch of shit. I just do it really anxious instead of taking the time to calm myself down.
6 notes · View notes
elenadoeslife · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
travel cage training has begun 🌾
9 notes · View notes
ittybittybumblebee · 1 year ago
Text
God please let me be soooo sick so i dont have to work. Amen
9 notes · View notes
ow-old-men · 2 years ago
Note
wouldn't it be so cool if when the pve for ow2 comes out the story and writing of it all is so horrendously bad that it has a reaction effect within the fandom that kickstarts people making their own versions of the game's story and soon there's fan comics that are 20x better than anything bl*zzard could dream of
I know this is somewhat a joke question, and yes- on the face of it, it would be
But in reality, that would not be the reaction to canon content being bad. Spite can only support you for so long - and more importantly, people are already doing just that; creating. If PvE comes out and is horrendously bad, people will be disappointed, they’ll be angry, they’ll post about how they feared this but had dared to hope, I’ll make a very big and funny and time consuming post writing a fake job application to the blizzard writers or some dumb shit like that. And then some of us will leave and some will stick around and make the same shit posts and drawings and what have you not
It’s all already there, you don’t have to punish yourself waiting around for something you don’t want
So sorry for being overly sincere, but if you want fandom to thrive, you shouldn’t sit around and wait for canon to write itself off for good, you should go out and look for the amazing stuff people are already putting out. Hell, you should make your own! Community and enthusiasm and love will always make better stuff than bitterness
10 notes · View notes
violetsareblue-selfships · 2 years ago
Text
good morning! happy friday!
1 note · View note
sylphwing · 5 months ago
Text
hoping that artfight will b good for me in that it will force me to draw. oc-tober was good for me so i hope this is too...
1 note · View note
shidoukanae · 5 months ago
Text
reread the chapter w/ Lyla's last convo with Helene just to see if i can glean what's going on more and oh. Ohhh. OWWWW
so Helene fucked up her last chance to bond with her real sister, huh? and it's Helene who ultimately pushed Lyla to trade lives with the protagonist, huh?
All Helene had to do was admit she cared for Lyla and was checking up on her during the night to make sure she was okay. Instead she chose to lash out at Lyla in the hopes of convincing Lyla to run away and...well...that was a bad decision now wasn't it OTL
#Helene is my favorite character so i adore her to bits but im sitting here going woooOOOOOW at her right now lol#Lyla was literally holding on to the hope that Helene still loved her as a sister and reconciliation was still possible based on her action#so when Helene shattered those hopes by being cruel to her instead of honestly admitting she still cares for Lyla as a sister#...ouch :')#it's even worse when you realize Helene was being mean to Lyla to try and get her to run away and live a happier life elsewhere#and that her nightly visits were likely her way of checking up on Lyla since she can't do it in front of her mother or let Lyla know she's-#still cared about for fear of Lyla growing attached to her and staying behind to continually face abuse bc of Helene#and by the time “Lyla” arrives Helene was already poisoned by her own mother into believing Lyla doesn't care about her#which was further emphasized by the way Lyla stopped paying attention to Helene and chasing after her#and how “Lyla” never once addressed the night she magic overloaded and instead went to acting as if nothing was wrong by acting friendly-#with Helene as if all their history together disappeared overnight#and then suddenly Lyla decides she wants to compete for the throne? And that she's getting all the attention from their father in doing so?#yeah no wonder Helene's been so flip-floppy towards Lyla she's hurt by the girl's actions & lashing out while still loving Lyla as a sister#so of course she's going to be both mean and strangely caring towards Lyla bc she's conflicted af and it shows#god i love piecing together what motivates Helene's actions as a character because she is so deeply and utterly complex holy shit
0 notes
starkeyvhs · 4 days ago
Text
only you my girl, only you babe
PAIRING: rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader
SUMMARY: four times your ���enemy” rafe hinted he cares for you and the one time you actually caught on it. OR you thought rafe doesn’t like you because he hates all pogues. little did you know he has always looked at you differently.
WORD COUNT: 6.7k
WARNINGS: drinking, drugs, swearing, blood and wounds, kinda canon rafe (omg kez????), obx cliches (mainly the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing from S1), extremely ‘only soft to you and no one else’ vibes, fluff, angry confessions, heavy pining, mentions of y/n
EDITH SPEAKS: oh. my. god. if you were there on my old blog you would know how long it’s been since I first introduced my idea of writing this fic. I got stumped on it way too often and then forgot about it for months, and then decided to abandon it. But I found it again and I got my inspiration back and now I’m so so happy it’s actually finished!! <3
major thank you to @zyafics who helped me last year when i was writing the fic and helped me brainstorm ideas for it :’) kissing your beautiful mind just like always zya xxx
this really is a labor of love and I genuinely couldn’t be happier 🥹I would highly appreciate all kinds of feedback and reblogs, because they really are extremely motivating and fun to get back to! I hope you enjoy reading, and i hope these 6k words are worth all your time and attention :)
masterlist / join my taglist / requests
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PROLOGUE
“Stay off Figure 8!” 
The all too familiar deep voice boomed across the beach, a completely dead silence started to surround the atmosphere. A loud groan was heard along with the unsteady thump of a person falling onto the sand, causing people standing around to gasp. 
JJ struggled to get up from the ground, the big punch he received from the one and only caused his nose to bleed non stop, and when he barely opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of icy cold blues staring back at him. 
“You hear me, Maybank? Stay. Off. Figure. 8. You and all your filthy pogue friends.” 
JJ tried getting up and talking back, he really did, but the one and only Rafe Cameron punched him so hard he lost all his balance. Blood kept on flowing in a never ending fashion, and JJ could see dark spots in his vision, his mind feeling light headed. 
“JJ!”
Rafe froze in his position, not looking up from JJ at the sound of JJ’s name being called out. The voice, the perfume, the general aura of the presence; Rafe didn’t have to look up to see who it was. 
“JJ oh my god please tell me you’re okay,” you mumbled, your voice almost trembling with the worry dripping from your words. You got on your knees and gently cradled JJ’s face, pulling it into your lap as you brushed his hair aside to look at the extent of damage on his face. JJ mumbled something incoherently and you let out a sigh, relieved he wasn’t completely knocked out. 
Rafe stood there on the side, his eyes widened as he saw how your fingers ran through his hair and wiped off his blood, he saw how careful you were with him, he saw how you mumbled small words of sweet nothingness to him. 
Rafe didn’t know what to say, he stood there limply as he watched you help JJ up, let him loop an arm across your shoulders so you could help him walk back to The Cut. 
As he saw you both walk back, he felt his blood boil. The rage built in him slowly like a thunderstorm, his breathing started to become erratic and his fists clenched tightly on his sides. 
“FUCK!” 
Rafe’s foot kicked across an empty beer can buried in the sand, causing it to fly and topple a few meters further from him. 
He wouldn’t have done anything to JJ, heck, he wouldn’t have looked at him if he knew you were on the beach too. 
The look on your face when you saw how hurt JJ was, the concern clouding all over your facial features; from the furrow of your brow to the frown on your lips, he knew you now hated him more than ever. He knew you would never want to look at him ever again. He knew you would never acknowledge his presence ever again. 
He knew there was no chance you would look at him the way he looked at you. 
ONE — THE PARTY
It was crazy.
The lights were neon and bright and they pierced your eyes harshly. The people at the party were almost sticking next to each other, their sweat, weed, alcohol, and an ungodly mix of expensive and cheap colognes being the only thing you can smell. 
You almost gagged as you maneuvered your way through the sweaty crowd, but you finally did, finding yourself taking deep breaths as you leaned against the countertop of the makeshift bar in the kitchen, letting the awful smell wash away from your nose palette. 
When you started feeling better, you got yourself a nice cold beer, letting the icy liquid run down your throat, sending chills down your spine but in a way you relished deeply. 
It was a scene like any other party; there were people dancing, some catching a smoke break at the side, some making out on the other side, nothing new. 
And it wasn’t anything new when a fight broke out. 
You didn’t know who the boys were who started to fight; all you saw was them go at each other like wolves, their courage mostly coming from the plethora of drugs in their system, profanities after profanities spilling out their mouth, and you were just watching from the side, completely nonchalant about it. 
But you were not so nonchalant when glass bottles were involved in hurting the other; you being in close proximity to the fighting pair resulted in one of the flying broken piece of glass cutting your hand, making you yell out at the sharp pain. The cut looked deep as the blood didn’t stop gushing out, but no one focused on you. Everyone was too busy watching the fight, trying to stop it, or just enjoying it for the heck of it. 
You hissed in pain, your own beer bottle set aside as you squeezed your eyes shut from the stinging pain spreading from your hand to your forearm. The blood started to trickle down from your palm down to the floor, and you had no idea what to do or who to go to. 
It all became a huge mess very quick, you on the side with your hand bleeding, and the rest of the party too busy to peg the immature boys on. 
You felt a tall shadow stalking over you, the scent of the rich cologne all too familiar. 
“That looks bad,” you heard in your ear. 
You turned to be face to face with Rafe. He was stalking down your wound, the blood flow not really stopping as the drops dripped down on the hardwood floor. His expression wasn’t one of worry. But it wasn’t one of detest either. It was just… emotionless. 
“Yeah no shit,” you muttered, looking down at your wound too. 
“Here,” he said, fishing out his handkerchief from his pocket. “This should help for the moment…” he muttered as he gently took your hand and wrapped the handkerchief around your cut. 
You looked at his hands working around your hand, covering up the cut. The pearly white cloth was quickly stained with a deep red of your blood, slowly spreading throughout the cloth. 
“You should get that checked once, just in case you need stitches,” he said, tying a knot to fix the cloth in its place. Just like his facial expression, his voice is also emotionless, monotone words leaving his lips. 
“Why are you doing this?” You couldn’t help but ask, out of all the people, Rafe was there to help you with your wound. 
“Because you’re bleeding a little too much,” he said, taking a step back from you. His hands then buried in the pockets of his jeans as he shrugged at you. 
You looked up in his icy blue eyes, not a single emotion in them. You weren’t sure what to say, finding yourself to be quite stunned which was never really the case; whenever Rafe talked to you, you were always quick to talk back, never letting him be the one who said the last words. 
“Right… thanks,” you muttered, looking down at the securely tied handkerchief around your hand. 
“Yeah,” he said with a nod of his head, and left you alone. 
TWO — THE FAILED DATE
You clutched on the tablecloth out of utter anxiousness, your eyes darting around the room. You took a look at your watch for the umpteenth time, and saw that the time you were supposed to be meeting someone got farther and farther in the past with each passing second. 
It had now been over an hour, the waiters had politely asked you if you would like to eat something, and all you asked for was a simple glass of water, because what if he shows up?
But now you could very clearly see that he won’t. 
You had a date, which unlike the past dates you had been on, really excited you. You thought he was a nice boy, someone you met while you were buying some beer for you and your friends. You don’t remember how the conversation started, but you both used to talk quite often, numbers exchanged and texts sent under the pale moonlight of 3 am. 
He finally asked you out on a date, and you were thrilled, to say the very least. But now, here you were at a fancy restaurant on Figure 8 which you barely got to go to, absolutely impatient as your knee bounced up and down out of anxiousness and embarrassment. 
You felt tears prick your eyes but you were quick to not let them fall, wiping them away from your waterline. You looked down in your lap, your fingers nervously pulling onto each other as the reality of being ditched settled in you. You took another look at your phone, desperate for any text, but there were no notifications. 
But then, you felt the sunlight falling onto you from the window next to you being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe. 
Of course, Rafe, out of all the people. 
He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you; your slightly red eyes and the tears accumulated in them didn’t go unnoticed by him. 
“Why are you here all alone?” He asked you, still standing in front of you. 
You just shook your head as a reply and picked up your belongings from the table. “It’s none of your business Rafe… I’ll just leave…” you muttered, but before you could do anything else, Rafe sat in the seat opposite to you. 
He took a look at your outfit, noticing it’s something different than the attire you’re usually sporting, something more formal. 
It didn’t take him long to connect two and two together to figure out everything. 
“You got ditched huh?” He said silently. His tone came off condescending to you, even though he didn’t mean to sound that way at all. 
You mentally braced yourself to get embarrassed by him, ready to hear a comment or two from him, because that’s what he did: say rude things to people, especially Pogues, because he felt like it. 
But he didn’t say anything. 
Absolutely nothing. 
You looked up at him, small streaks of tears had started making their way down. “I told you it’s none of your business,” you said, sniffling. 
He only sighed as he leaned back in the chair, watched you carefully as your head hung low, silent sobs escaping you as you occasionally wiped away your tears. 
“Listen, it’s not your fault okay?” He mumbled. You looked up from your lap with your eyes filled with tears. “I know you must be feeling really bad right now, and there is nothing wrong about it, but don’t think too much about it,” 
“I… I got ditched Rafe. I am sitting here all alone in this expensive restaurant crying my eyes out. How can I not think too much about it?” You whispered, your eyebrows creased together. 
He leaned a bit closer to you. “I’m trying to make you feel better…” He said softly. 
“Well,” you sniffled, looking away from him, “I didn’t ask for it, okay?” 
These were the last words you said, before you got up from your chair and left the restaurant, whilst Rafe watched you walk away, wanting to hold your hand and to stop you, but he just couldn’t. 
THREE — THE BEACH CLEAN UP
You looked up at the sun, wiping the sweat off your forehead as you took in a deep breath. The summers only seemed to be getting hotter this time around, and the fact that you were at a beach clean up at noon was not helping your situation. 
You liked to pick up work like beach clean ups in between your main job at the island club so you could make a little side money. 
As you got back to picking up the trash from the beach, throwing it in the little basket you’re carrying with yourself, you looked up to hear some chatter besides the otherwise quiet beach and the other people working quite silently. 
It was a group of Kooks – their expensive clothes and accessories shining under the bright rays of the sun completely unmissable. And in the group of them, a pair of electric blue eyes had its gaze fixed on you intensely. 
You didn’t even know why Rafe was there. Or why the other Kooks were there. They didn’t have any need to participate in these kinds of jobs. Everything was just handed down to them, daddy’s money being what they thrive on.
You ignored them and got back to working, focusing on clearing the trash from the specific area of the beach you were at. Just a few minutes later you felt the sunlight being blocked by a huge shadow, and when you looked up, you saw Rafe right by your side, separated from his Kook friends. 
You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what, so you peeled your focus away from him and got back to picking up the trash and throwing it into the basket. 
“Here,” he said almost suddenly, causing you to look up at him. “I’ll hold it for you,” he gestured the basket in your hand, and even proceeded to hook two of his fingers into its side, holding onto it.
Before you could have protested, he gently pulled the basket from your hand, causing you to let go of it. You wouldn’t lie, your basket had started to get heavy from the innumerable aluminum cans and other trash sitting in it.
“Thanks,” you murmured under your breath and from the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe acknowledged you with a nod of his head. 
For the next hour or so, you went around picking up the trash and Rafe followed you holding the basket for you as if it weighed nothing, and you kept on dropping the trash in it. It was oddly comfortable, the silence between you two as you weren’t sure what to say – and frankly, you thought that was the best. 
As the clean up came to an end, everyone was sitting in the sand, and light laughter and chatter filled the group. The afternoon had started to turn into evening, the bright rays of the sun turning into something more warm, more comforting instead of burning. You sat in the sand, leaning back on your forearms a little away from the rest, just letting the summer breeze blow past you gently. 
Rafe sat down next to you, and held out something. You saw it was a glass of iced lemonade he got from the little surf shop. 
“You didn’t have to,” you mumbled, eyeing the glass in his hand, the condensation on the surface causing water droplets to slide against the smooth glass. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “You’ve worked all afternoon. Have it, it’s my treat.” 
You took another second or two before taking the glass from him, sipping on the cool, sour yet sweet liquid and allowing it to run down your throat. He remained seated next to you as you both watched the waves crash on the shore, the seagulls flying over and the sun only delving you into a comforting warmth more and more with each passing second, and slurped on your little lemony drinks. 
FOUR — THE TIP
The day was slowly turning into dusk, the bright afternoon light leaving to welcome darker pink and orange streaks cast by the almost setting sun. This was the time when the island club started filling in more and more, the bar being one of the first parts of the club to get exceptionally occupied.
You were busy serving an older woman, your mind completely occupied to make the martini, when out of the corner of your eye, you caught the all too familiar gist of a head of dirty blonde curtain bangs. 
You turned your head to meet Rafe’s blue eyes looking intently at you. The way he was focused on you, his gaze not wavering for even a fraction of a second, and the strong intensity behind them made you feel like the only girl on this planet. Though, of course, that feeling was short-lived when you were snapped out of your daze by a customer calling out for you. 
You were quick to rush over to the customer, who had just finished the drink you had served him. He left the money for his drink where he was sitting and was already making his way out of the club. 
You  picked up the dollar bills to see he paid completely for the drink, but the tip wasn’t even touching the bare minimum. You didn’t know what the reason was, you had been kind to the customer, made his drink perfectly and served it on time, and even presented it as aesthetically as you could. Even then, your tip wasn’t up to the mark. Sighing, you made your way over to the other end of the bar counter where you kept your tip jar, which coincidentally also happened to be where Rafe was sitting. 
“Everything alright?” He asked, eyeing your woeful expression as you were putting the newly received ‘tip’ (if it can be even called that) in the jar. His eyes raked over the jar, and he couldn’t help but find it a lot more empty than it should be. 
“Yeah everything’s fine,” You mumbled, keeping the jar aside. You wiped your hands once on the towel slung in the loop of your apron before looking up at Rafe. “What can I get you?” You asked. 
“A neat whiskey’s fine,” He said and you nodded. You served him the neat whiskey, setting the glass right in front of him. He gave you an acknowledging nod and wrapped his fingers around the glass and bought it closer to his mouth, drinking from it. 
You decided to work around the bar a bit, just cleaning everything up, preparing everything you may need in advance, practically anything you could get your hands at – because anything was better than having to talk to Rafe, who, by the way, didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second. His gaze was firm and jaw was set as he just saw you work around the bar, silently sipping on his whiskey. 
You kept yourself wonderfully distracted as you served the customers and prepared everything behind the bar, but every so often, your gaze would magnetically be pulled back to Rafe, and you would always catch him looking at you. 
When you noticed Rafe’s almost done with his glass of whiskey, you made your way back to him. 
“Another one?” You asked, and he only silently nodded as his reply. You refilled his glass with the neat whiskey, and leaned back against the counter, just simply glancing around the scene of the bar and the club and catching a small break. 
A silence fell over the two of you, the light chatter and the music playing in the club thrumming against your eardrums. Rafe was just silently sipping the whiskey, not saying or doing anything, just sitting there and having his drink. 
“So uh… you’re alone here tonight?” You asked, your words feeling cautious. “I mean, you’re usually here with Topper, or with someone, atleast,”
He set his almost finished glass at the counter, his fingers still wrapped around the clear glass. His gaze found yours, a warm blue instead of the usual icy one sinking into your eyes. 
“Topper was busy,” He muttered, “so I came alone,”
You just quietly hummed at his words, and from the corner of your eye you saw one of your customers finishing their drink and leaving their money on the counter. You went to get it, and when you did, you saw it’s the same thing repeating itself: the ‘tip’. 
You sighed, slightly aggravated as you made your way back to where the top jar was, and dumped the money in it. 
“Will it kill them to just pay something to their bartender?” You sighed, leaning against the counter and tilting your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. Your shift was close to coming to an end and if that’s the money you had to go home with tonight, well, it’d be kind of fucked. 
You could feel Rafe’s gaze on you, but he didn’t say anything, just finished the last sip of his whiskey in a gulp. You were about to ask him for another refill, but you heard someone calling you out. 
You turned around to see it was one of your coworkers, who told you were being called inside. You turned to look back at Rafe, but he just shook his head, and gestured to you to leave. You followed your coworker and went inside to where he was leading to. 
After being freed from the quite useless meetup with your manager, you finally walked back out to the bar after 15 minutes. When you did, you saw Rafe’s stool was empty, and there was money kept on the counter. 
You approached the counter, and the moment you saw the money, your eyes almost fell out from how wide they got. 
Ten crisp hundred dollar notes sat unfolded on the marbled counter along with the money for the whiskey, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. For a second, it felt unreal. You reached your hand out and your fingertips touched the paper, and you realised the money was real. You picked the notes up, your lips parted in shock as you gaze at them. 
Rafe tipped you $1000. 
1000 fucking dollars. 
Your gaze immediately turned towards the exit of the bar, and of course, you couldn’t spot Rafe – you had completely missed him. 
You carefully kept the notes in your tip jar and sealed the jar shut. Through the glass, you couldn’t remove your gaze from the notes, your mind now completely clouded with Rafe, and his tip. 
ONE — THE BROKEN DOWN CAR
You let out a frustrated groan, kicking the tyre in utter vexation, which helped you release just the tiniest fraction of your rage. You fished out your phone from your pocket just to see it was nothing more than a dead device, serving you no purpose. You almost had the urge to throw the phone, but you stopped yourself at the right second, because you realized, you can’t afford to hear the sound of the glass screen cracking. 
Instead, you just kicked a pebble in your path and slumped against the side door of your beat up car which decided to stop working halfway across your journey from Figure 8 to the Cut. You were at the side of the road, watching other cars and vehicles pass by as you sat there on the roadside, not having a single clue on what to do. 
10… 15… 20 minutes passed and you were still in the same position, not knowing what to do and not making any effort to find out either. The road fell silent a few minutes ago, no vehicles crossing, but the silence was short lived when you heard the revving of an engine from the distance, and it came to a stop right next to you. 
An all too familiar red and black bike stood next to you, the rider’s face covered by the helmet. But the bike, the gold signet ring on the index finger of the left hand, and the taut muscles peeking from under the t-shirt were more than enough to confirm who it was. 
The helmet came off and Rafe’s piercing blue eyes found yours. 
“What happened?” He asked, getting off his bike as he ran a hand through his hair, his curtain bangs pushed back momentarily before they fell down on both the sides of his face in a ragged middle part just like always. 
“My car broke down,” you muttered as you looked up at him. 
“Hm.” 
He rounded around you and lifted the cover of the engine, holding it up with one hand as he inspected the engine carefully. You watched him intently, trying to figure out what the expressions on his face meant, but there weren’t any to begin with. It was a face so cold and plain, suiting well with the cold blue eyes. 
“There’s some issue with the battery. You most probably need to get it replaced.” He declared, letting the cover fall back in its place. 
“Oh great,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words as you threw your head back against the door of your car. “That’ll probably cost nothing, won’t it?” 
Rafe caught the sarcasm of your words very well but didn’t comment anything, just wiped the dust off his hands as he gazed down at you. 
“Come on,” you heard, and as you looked up, you saw he was holding his hand out for you. “You were probably going back home yeah? I’ll drop you.” 
You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off the next instant. 
“No ifs, or buts, or ‘Rafe’s, you hear me? You’re letting me drop you off, and are letting me take care of this,” he said, gesturing to your car. “I’ll call a mechanic who’ll get your car towed from here and will work on it. Now come on, none of us have got all day.” 
By the end of his words, you knew whatever you’ll do is equivalent to pointless, so you gave in. You gently held his hand and helped yourself up from the road, brushing a hand over your clothes as he led you to his bike parked aside. 
Rafe put his helmet on top of your head and adjusted the strap, and you heard a faint click as it fixed in place. You wanted to ask ‘what about you?’ when the only helmet was now sitting on your head, but you decided against it. He mounted the bike and gestured to you to do the same, revving the engine twice or thrice before taking off. 
He was definitely faster than what you had expected, and you couldn’t help it when you gripped the sides of his t-shirt, fisting the crisp material in your fingers to provide yourself some stability. For a second, he took one hand off the handlebar and reached for your hand scrunching his t-shirt. He gently took your wrist and you let go of the fabric in the process, allowing him to tug your hand and place it on his waist. Your other hand followed suit, and both of your arms were firmly wrapped around his waist. His hand landed back at the handlebar, and he only sped up more, the wind whipping past you at a phenomenal speed. 
The ride to The Cut came to an end when Rafe reached your home, and you didn’t want to admit to him or to yourself, but you felt it was short. The ride was nothing short of exhilarating, the wind whipping past your skin, and the way your arms found purchase around his waist gave you the comfort you needed. 
You got off the bike, firmly planting your feet on the ground as you did so, and Rafe’s hand instinctively wrapped around your arm to make sure you remained stable. You carefully took off the helmet and handed it back to him. 
“So uh,” You muttered, clearing your throat subtly, “thanks for the ride. Really,”
He shook his head, kicking the stand of the bike in place and allowing it to lean on one side. “Don’t worry,” He said, still sitting on the bike. 
“You, you really didn’t have to,” You said, your fingers intertwined with each other behind your back. 
“And do what? Leave you alone at the side of the road? With a broken down car and a dead phone?” Rafe sighed. “I wasn’t gonna do that y/n, you know that,”
You know that. 
Yeah you do. 
You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as a small silence fell over you two as none of you said anything, and you kept on contemplating how you could possibly return such a massive favor. 
“You…” You began, your voice low, the words on the tip of the tongue feeling experimental, “you wanna come inside for a moment?”
Rafe’s response didn’t come out the very next second, and that small pause felt like years to you. 
“Sure,” He said, getting off his bike. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded, leading him towards your place. 
“It’s nothing big…” You muttered as you climbed up the stairs of the porch and he followed suit, watching you unlock the front door. “But it’s home, I guess.”
Knowing he had grown up in the richest part of the island, surrounded by everything he could possibly need and want, you had a feeling he’d definitely make some snarky comment. Cause isn’t that what he did? Rafe Cameron: the Kook prince, but also the biggest asshole?
But he was completely silent when he followed you inside and only quietly sat down on the couch you led him to, which you definitely were shocked to see, but nevertheless you didn’t really let it show on your expressions. 
“So uh…” you began to speak, wanting to break through the awkward air around you two, “anything you’d like? Water? Or some tea maybe?” 
He shook his head silently, and a moment later, gestured to the empty seat next to him. 
“Come sit,” he said, words simple and direct, no beating around the bush, just like always. 
You took a sweet moment to let his words settle in you, but when you did, you walked up to the couch and sat down next to him, a small distance maintained between the two of you. Your gaze remained fixed on your shoes, your hands perfectly intertwined in your lap, and your habit of pulling onto them – something which only tended to happen you felt really anxious – came back. 
The awkward air was around you two again, settling over you two like a blanket that is way too warm for hot weather, making you feel uneasy and has got you squirming for any sort of cooling. 
“Why do you do that?”
There it was. 
It was out. 
You blabbered out the question as if it meant nothing, when in reality, it carried so much more weight than you could possibly ever imagine. 
When you were met with silence for a moment, you looked up, and saw Rafe sitting with his hands on his knees, his own gaze fixed at something on the floor. What was it exactly – you couldn’t tell. 
When he still didn’t speak anything, you decided to take the chance. 
“You’re always… there for me, in one way or the other. You patched my hand up at that party weeks ago, when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You saw me crying to myself when my date didn’t show up and came up to me when you could’ve just ignored the situation. You helped me at the beach clean up and carried my heavy bin for me when you could’ve ignored the situation. You saw my lack of tips and paid me a massive one when you could’ve ignored the situation. You could’ve always ignored the situation, Rafe. Just like you always do with the other Pogues. With them, you don’t care for even a damn second. But… why are you doing so much for me?” 
The silence kept on greeting you, and you could feel yourself beginning to get impatient. Your gaze flickered over Rafe, and you didn’t miss the way he flexed his fingers over his knee, as if gripping it tightly. 
“I, I don’t know…” He mumbled weakly. You had never heard his voice take such a softer tone. It’s as if you didn’t even know it existed. 
“What– what do you mean you don’t know?” You sighed, turning your body a bit so you could face him. “That’s fucking ridiculous Rafe!”
“It’s not ridiculous I just can’t explain it the way you wish I could–”
“Well you should be able to cause I need explanations–”
“Not everything can be given a logical explanation come on–”
“Yes it can if you try hard enough–”
“I care for you okay!”
His words were loud, much louder than any of his previous words. Their loudness and conviction shut you up right at that moment, your eyes widening, and your lips slightly parted as you stared at him with a look of disbelief in your eyes. 
“I–I Rafe began, running a hand through his messy bangs, and you had to control the urge to run your own fingers through them and gently push them out of his eyes, “I don’t know why, but I just can’t stand the thought of you being hurt, or being sad, or going through any discomfort. I just can’t okay? Each time I see you that way I– I immediately get to solving it cause I can’t bear to see you all troubled. I don’t want to see a single scratch on your skin or– or a single furrow in your brow I just… want to see you happy. Cause you look... so so pretty when you’re smiling, y/n, it’s… it’s unexplainable,”
A silence fell over you two as you let his words sink in you, which was a lot harder than you’d like, but you were doing it. 
“And i just… wish that one day… you’d smile that pretty smile of yours because of me,” He murmured, “because I made you smile,”
You could see Rafe’s own words taking a massive toll on him, just as it was taking on you. You parted your lips to say something but you were just so horribly stumped, you couldn’t utter a single word. 
He ran a ragged hand through his hair once again and stood up, clearing his throat. 
“I should leave now,” He muttered, standing in front of your seated form but not facing you, but instead facing the door. Your own gaze was fixed at the floor, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping loudly in your eyes, his words repeating over and over like a broken record in your mind. 
You didn’t say anything to stop him, so Rafe silently walked out the door, closing it behind himself with a silent click. 
You were left all alone in your living room, Rafe’s weighted words lying heavy on your heart and mind, and the distant noise of his bike’s engine revving a bitter reminder that he wasn’t next to you anymore. 
Just two days later, when you woke up in the morning and looked out your window, you saw your car parked. Not only was the battery replaced, a whole paint job was done, the ripped car seats were replaced with some fancy leather, the tyres were exchanged for upgraded ones, and for a second, you didn’t even recognise your own car. 
You noticed a piece of paper held in place by the windshield wiper, and when you went outside and took the piece of paper and unfolded it, you saw a small phrase scrawled in black against the white of the paper. 
don’t mention it. – R.C.
EPILOGUE  
You let out a deep sigh as you watch him laugh, patting his friend’s arm in the process. A smile of pure contentment crosses your face, watching the rays of the bright, afternoon sun hit his bare skin and making it shine, his muscles seeming more pronounced than ever. 
You watch him turn around and glance at you over his shoulder, his smile wide as he gives you a flying kiss. You can’t help but chuckle at the endearing action, causing you to send one his way too. He lifts up two fingers in the form of a peace sign and gestures to his friend next to him, silently conveying to you that he will be by your side in just two minutes. You give him an understanding nod and watch his head turn back to the front, getting delved into the conversation with his friend again. 
You sip on your drink as you lean your head back, the sound of the boat rushing past the waves of the ocean filling your ear drums deeply. You close your eyes and just listen to the sound of waves, your mind shutting out the chitter chatter of the conversations of the other people on this boat. 
Soon enough you feel the sunlight being blocked and as you open your eyes, you see him standing right in front of you, a smile on his face. The chain around his neck along with the little gold capital letter of your initial hanging from it catches the sunlight and gleams more than it usually does. He sits down next to you and silently wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You smile as you lean into him, your fingers going immediately to fiddle with the chain, feeling the edges of the cool gold initial under your fingertips. 
You take a glance up at him, running your other hand along the side of his now buzzed head, feeling the short, prickly hair gently tickle your fingers. 
“Are you having a good time so far?” He mutters softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, your head tucking in the crook of his neck. 
“Yeah, yeah I am,” you say quietly, your fingers mindlessly continuing fiddling with the gold initial on his chest. “You?” You ask, slightly lifting your head up from his neck. 
“Oh, the absolute best time,” He says softly, looking down at you with a gentle smile on his face. “We’re on our boat, and I’m with my gorgeous girlfriend, what else could I need?”
You can’t help but softly chuckle at his words, silently shaking your head as you lean your head against his shoulder again and resume fiddling with the chain. You do it often, almost each time you get your hands on him, and he loves it; feeling the occasional brush of your fingers against his skin and the gentle tugs on the chain. 
He allows you to relax against him completely, his arms around you to keep you close to him as you both sit silently, only the sound of the water and the light chatter of your friends accompanying you two. 
“Thank you,” Rafe says softly, his fingertips tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder. 
You furrow your brows at his words, slightly confused, as you look up at him. “What for?” You ask. 
Rafe only keeps on gazing at you, a gentle smile pulling his lips. He quietly shakes his head, and with a gentle pull, he allows you to rest against him again. 
“Nothing.” He stays quiet for a moment. “Everything.” 
Your own lips can’t help but upturn in a small smile too. “Well, in that case…” you murmur, leaning back to look up at him, one hand coming to rest against his cheek as you gently caress the soft skin, and you slowly lean in, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. 
“Thank you,” you mumble softly against his lips. Rafe’s hands grip your waist and he pulls you closer, not letting you pull back from the kiss. His fingers splay across your back as he kisses you, his lips moving in an unhurried, tender motion against yours. 
A moment or so later, he pulls back, his eyes opening by just a fraction. You let your arms hook around Rafe’s neck, keeping him close to you. 
“You’re the only one for me, Rafe,” you mumble quietly. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want.” 
He leans his head against you and takes a deep breath, your scent and the smell of the ocean around you filling his nostrils deeply. 
You both let the moment just simply sink in you, the sun rays bathing you in the warmest light, along with the presence of each other, which might be warmer than the sun any time of the day. 
“Only you, my girl,” he mumbles quietly. “Always and forever.” 
⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹
taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @drewstarkeys-world / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @khaisdrz / @weirdowithnobeardo
specific tags for this fic: @writingmeraki / @ghoslyethastaryn / @congratsloserr / @helloloverz / @littlelamy / @eolsens / @wtfdudesblog / @jkrafe / @onlyrealjoy / @husherstan / @lilithblackkk / @sublimepenguinpeach-blog
tagging some moots: @runningfrom2am / @b1mb0slvt / @nemesyaaa / @ilyrafe / @zyafics / @jjsbank444 / @ladyinbl00d
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
strawberrymochin · 1 month ago
Text
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader
synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—
warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending
w.c- 8.2k (have faith)
a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!
Tumblr media
When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old. 
You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face. 
It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.
And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you. 
“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom. 
Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word. 
He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?” 
You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.” 
Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”
“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name. 
“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.” 
By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games. 
That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur. 
By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you. 
Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school. 
You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind. 
Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you. 
However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry. 
Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes. 
He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then. 
“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench. 
He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?
The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him. 
Class 1-2.
Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind. 
As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours. 
He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him. 
That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight. 
As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat. 
With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk. 
That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him. 
The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number. 
Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class. 
Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone. 
Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you. 
This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.
This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours. 
His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change. 
So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school. 
“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room. 
Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat. 
Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag. 
You flinched. 
Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze. 
One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.
Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently. 
The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.
“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.” 
Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy. 
He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace. 
That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others. 
The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away. 
You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining. 
He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious. 
He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.
Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you. 
And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.
Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse. 
He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection. 
Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found. 
He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18. 
He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him. 
“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?” 
“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass. 
“Should visit him then.” 
“Forget it.” 
“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused. 
“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.” 
“Did yaga find out about this?” 
“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”
“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete. 
Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento. 
They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to— 
“Find a new one.” 
“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”
“How am I supposed to?” 
“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.” 
“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.
He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes. 
Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe. 
“Sup!” 
Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do. 
“All good?” 
“Yeah, what do you need?” 
“Just a little favour.” 
“And what that might be?” 
“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.” 
Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.” 
“Yes please…” 
“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.” 
“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.
“Get the other two packets out.” 
“Sure.” 
Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home. 
And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.
Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.” 
“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind. 
It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.
“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you. 
“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?” 
You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’. 
“I'm—” 
“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.” 
You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him. 
“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes. 
His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.
“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club. 
“So…you're the only one?” 
“Huh?”
“In the band— i mean…”
“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…” 
You humm, taking a proper look at the club. 
“You like it?” 
“It has vibrant colours.” 
Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.
“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?” 
“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.” 
“you do originals?” 
“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.” 
Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you. 
“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?” 
“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.
“geto…geto suguru.” 
“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.” 
“Oh.” 
Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter. 
Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.
“You didn't answer my question…”
“I guess I found you for our band.” 
When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.
“You know how to play?” 
“Err…no.” 
“I can teach you.” 
He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you. 
“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms. 
“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings. 
“Like this?” you ask him.
“Yes, you're doing very well.” 
The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it. 
Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart. 
Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes. 
Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks. 
Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips. 
“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch. 
He quickly leaves your hand. 
“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile. 
“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.” 
“You do?” 
“Yeah…” 
“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence. 
Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.
Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes. 
“For that I might need your number—” 
“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you. 
“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.” 
“Kky!” 
You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave. 
“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.” 
“Ah— no I can't do that.”
“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably. 
“No i rea—”
“consider it as a gift— from me.” 
You frowned a bit but agreed anyway. 
“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!” 
He waved back to you. 
“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left. 
“nothing.” 
Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it. 
Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members. 
He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him. 
You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.” 
“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.
“Satoru?” 
“Y-yes.” 
“You liked it?” 
“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently. 
It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving. 
And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time. 
His heart fluttered at the thought. 
“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!” 
The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds. 
The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set. 
The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins. 
Will you be cheering too? 
Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience. 
And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music. 
His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him. 
The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it. 
The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”
As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform. 
The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him. 
The still air felt electric as he approached you. 
“you liked the show?” 
“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.
“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance. 
“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.
“Thank you.” 
“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.” 
“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.” 
“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—” 
“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines. 
“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”
“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.
“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.
“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of. 
Finally he'd be alone with you.
He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out. 
It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you. 
“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.” 
“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.
The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.
He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt. 
Your heart practically jolts at his action. 
The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position. 
“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway. 
“In the downtown.” 
“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.
“I can't let you do that.”
“Why?” 
“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.” 
“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.” 
You turn your face from the window to look at him. 
“What?” 
“I will have to— to teach you guitar.” 
You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.
“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.” 
“Why not!” 
Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes. 
And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain. 
You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for. 
You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.
You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—
Your world was only limited to papers and paints.
So you painted. 
You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.
You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.
But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life. 
But how can you?
How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care. 
How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?
Or maybe it's just your overthinking.
Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special. 
“What are you thinking baby?”
You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…” 
“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder. 
“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.
“I've been starving.” 
You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break. 
Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other. 
“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. 
“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts. 
Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.” 
An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—
“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.” 
You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—” 
“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others. 
Satoru points at you. 
“I just got here. You can't leave already.”
“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.” 
Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.
They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?” 
“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her. 
She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.
“What— “ 
“What do you think of gojo?” 
A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.
You ears turn red. 
“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”
“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face. 
“A-a nice friend.” 
“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications. 
Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?” 
Yura shrugged. 
The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt. 
Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.
“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered. 
Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face. 
The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.
“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm. 
“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy. 
“About gojo being interested in you…” 
“I-i don't think so.” 
You try to laugh it off.
“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.” 
Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again. 
Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.
The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.
The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but  didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.
“No.” 
Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him. 
Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home. 
It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor. 
He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset? 
You'd said it was nothing.
Then why?
What the fuck did he messed up?
Satoru missed you terribly and violently.
He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber. 
You lied to him. 
“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line. 
“I'm sorry—”
“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”
You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.
“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table. 
“Nothing.” 
“Then come.”
You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal. 
And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him. 
“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.” 
You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine. 
One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room. 
“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you. 
His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall,  pinning you caging your body. 
“What's wrong with you?” 
“Gojo you're hurting m—” 
“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?” 
“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.
“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—” 
“why?” 
“Don't pretend like you don't know…” 
“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”
“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.
“No you don't.” 
“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.” 
Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest. 
“B-but I wrote you a note confes—” 
“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly. 
“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”
His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.
“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago. 
She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.
Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile. 
“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm. 
You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip. 
He pulls away again.
“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.
His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?” 
His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. 
“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit. 
Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm. 
“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well. 
He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud. 
Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness. 
He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.” 
Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit. 
“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit. 
Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.
He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers. 
He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.
“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you. 
A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…” 
The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.
Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside. 
Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru. 
“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry. 
“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck. 
Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.
“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.
The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.
No— you mouthed. 
Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum. 
You gape at his girth. 
It was big.
And fucking thick. 
Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”
You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in. 
A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.
He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size. 
Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him. 
He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.
“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?” 
You were at a loss for words. 
The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard. 
When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. 
Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him. 
He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss. 
“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—” 
Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.
“Tell me—” 
Thrust 
“do you—” 
Thrust 
“still think I'm just being polite?”
Thrust.
The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans. 
The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall. 
Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…” 
Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.
You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.
Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.
The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins. 
None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair. 
He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall. 
“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you. 
“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise. 
You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.” 
“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.” 
You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…
He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too.” 
“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.” 
Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.
To paint his heart with your love.
“I will.” 
“no wait— marry me instead!”
You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.
Finally he would be yours. 
you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.
Tumblr media
Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala
© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |
6K notes · View notes