#and mixing weird drinks in the process
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valiasims · 3 months ago
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Beachy Collection
Hey everyone!
My new cc set is finished! This collection was inspired by the beaches, obviously :D. I wanted to make some essentials for your sims to enjoy what left of the summer.
If you have not seen my other posts I'll add some notes for the items here. First of all there are two versions of the sling chair because I wanted it to have the sunbathing functionality but sims lay down whilst sunbathing on a lounge chair so I had to attach a pouff foot rest to it so the animation isn't weird. But I added a simple chair version as well so you can mix and match and it won't look too copy-paste with the same foot rest.
Second item I want to mention is the drink tray. There's two, one is functional with the Backyard Stuff Pack the other is a deco one.
Third thing is the public bathroom which I managed to get to work without adding two of them to the object. But this was a really annoying process because for some reason the animation for it includes the sim teleporting a mile to the left when entering the facility. In my case that meant they jumped out of the object. It worked fine for females because for some reason they jumped only half a mile and I thought I was good, then I tested the males and whoops...But don't worry, you won't see them standing frozen while "peeing" because I managed to tweak the tuning so the males use the same animation as the females.
I think that's it! I hope you'll enjoy these objects. Let me know what you think or if you have any questions/problems!
The Set Includes
Sling Tanning Chair (foot rest included)
Sling Chair (chair version)
Folding Table
Coffee Table (1 tile, 2 tile)
Pouff Table
Drink Tray Functional (you need to have Backyard Stuff Pack)
Drink Tray Deco
Folded Towel With Sunscreen
Beach Blanket
Sun Umbrella (opened, closed)
Wooden Planks
Simewe Beach Bag
Wooden Awning (with and without curtains)
Mexican Fan Palm (tall and short)
Public Bathroom Hut
-DOWNLOAD HERE- Public release on the 16th of September 6PM CST
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odinsblog · 1 year ago
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“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.
But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.
And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.
Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.
And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.
The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.
Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”
—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike
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itostea · 10 months ago
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my first & last love (gojo x reader)
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satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru
tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst
word count: 11k
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The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song. 
It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did). 
Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.
It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing. 
You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes. 
“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it. 
For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time. 
“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat. 
“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.
His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.
“--I like Getou and I need your help.”
“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”
He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”
It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”
“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”
Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again. 
You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.
“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool. 
“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself. 
“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”
Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”
You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”
“I do.” He says quickly.
You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”
“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”
Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.
Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why. 
“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty? 
Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”
“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”
“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”
You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”
I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it.  It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own. 
Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”
“Uh the goodness of your heart?”
“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”
“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!” 
He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”
“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.” 
“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude. 
“Satoru.”
“Hm?”
“Thank you, I mean it.”
Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”
He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead. 
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Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning. 
He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification. 
(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come 
Him: come ??? cum
(Name): it’s too early to be doing this 
He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan 
(Name): SATORU 
(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS 
Him: WHAT 
Him: HELLO??? 
(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA 
(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME 
(Name): WHAT DO I DO?
Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.
Him: say hi back 
Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly 
(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn
(Name): jk he just said bye :(
Him: should’ve done what i told u to do
Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.
Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?
Him: yeah why 
Suguru: Nothing
It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.
His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it. 
Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop. 
Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again. 
Suguru: She’s cute
Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.
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Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it. 
You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake. 
The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.
Gojo: omw to ur house 
Gojo: ill be there in 10 
You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear 
Gojo: …
Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?
You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY? 
You: so i need ur opinion 
Gojo: dude
Gojo: ok
Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine 
You: yeah but what specifically?
Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma 
Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party 
Gojo: no offense
You: but i liked that dress :(((( 
You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways
Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way 
You: wow okay thanks
Gojo: you looked nice 
Gojo: ANYWAYS  
Gojo: a pair of jeans 
Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders 
You: really? 
Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up 
You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day. 
You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off. 
Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”
“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you. 
“Atta girl.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.
On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it. 
“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode. 
“Game plan?”
“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”
“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light. 
“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”
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At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.” 
Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party. 
You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!” 
“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.
“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”
“You’re not–”
“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”
“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you. 
For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”
“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”
“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”
You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?” 
“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”
“Suguru.” 
You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?” 
“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”
You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”
“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago. 
You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.
Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?” 
Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.” 
“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom. 
The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.
The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit. 
You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders. 
“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”
You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?” 
“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you. 
“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”
In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”
Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it. 
Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.
You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”
A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”
“Satoru.”
“Hm?”
“I like when you compliment me.”
“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”
The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne. 
And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well. 
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Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?
But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week. 
Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on. 
If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.
What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another. 
You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”
“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts. 
“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”
“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. 
“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”
You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was. 
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Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache. 
Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air. 
Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid. 
If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you. 
No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.
He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking. 
His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else. 
He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”
“Satoru?” 
Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”
“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers. 
“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”
You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. 
“What’s up Satoru–?”
“Party’s off.”
“What? Wait what are you–”
“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand. 
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You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less. 
The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.
“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.
You only nod. “I want to go home.”
“Yeah I can take you back–”
“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”
For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”
“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”
“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace. 
You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”
This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”
You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”
“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place. 
Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”
“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”
“Today?”
“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”
“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”
“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”
You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”
“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”
Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you. 
His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.
Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind. 
“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”
“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa. 
“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit. 
You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”
“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.
“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”
“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”
“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”
“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”
“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs. 
You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”
This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”
You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”
“Are you?”
“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”
He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”
“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?” 
“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”
He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru. 
His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”
“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes. 
“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face. 
“Satoru–” 
The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more. 
“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”
As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you. 
“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”
Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”
“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”
You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back. 
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If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.
He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you. 
At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that. 
So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?
You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date. 
Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.
“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here. 
“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be. 
It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”
“What?”
“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”
“I’m not–”
“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”
This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.
“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”
When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”
Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”
This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”
“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”
You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”
“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”
You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.
“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something. 
“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”
Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”
Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”
“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”
“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”
“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”
“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”
“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”
“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”
You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.” 
His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”
“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”
You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.
“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”
“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor. 
If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru. 
You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—
The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“
“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”
You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”
She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone. 
You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“
“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.” 
“What? But you just got here—“
“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave. 
Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“
“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.” 
You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear. 
By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”
“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.
“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light. 
“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”
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After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing. 
Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?  
No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you. 
Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it. 
The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace. 
You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed. 
“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile. 
“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.
Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name. 
“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes. 
“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs. 
You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in. 
You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb. 
“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”
You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”
“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”
You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you. 
“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”
“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth. 
He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”
“I–”
“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”
“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder. 
“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship. 
“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”
“(Name)...” 
“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”
You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this. 
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Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed. 
He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on. 
Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru. 
That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind. 
When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him. 
You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him. 
Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms? 
He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this. 
If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.
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You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”
“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”
“I’m not–”
“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”
You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”
“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”
You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”
You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”
He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”
At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”
“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”
You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”
“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”
You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”
“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal. 
“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”
The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck. 
You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”
He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?” 
When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time. 
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6esiree · 5 months ago
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Getting Dared To Call Them Daddy Pt. 3
Summary: You get dared to call Valentino and Angel Dust daddy.
Warnings: Swearing, slightly suggestive, Val being Val. I speak Spanish but not Italian, so I just went off of what I found online. Forgive me if I’m incorrect ❤️‍🩹 Also decided to reupload this to see how it’ll do + I made some minor changes.
Valentino:
Your sentiments about Valentino were mixed. As a bartender, the last thing you wanted to do was chat it up with the patrons, especially because they usually only spoke to you to try to get into your pants. While the moth wasn’t that blatantly obvious with his intentions, the language he used with you subtle and strangely bordering along sweet, you knew what he did for a living.
He was a pimp, exploiting people for money and power, so you didn’t trust him all that much. Still, you couldn’t help but find him…attractive, appreciating the moth from afar with fleeting glances. That was all you allowed yourself to do, prohibiting your mind from traveling past the superficial thoughts, and you made sure of it by being curt with Valentino whenever you interacted with him.
You did this for the longest time, but then Velvette convinced you to play a game of Truth or Dare one night, and suddenly, you had to interact with the moth in the worst way possible. “I dare you to call Val daddy,” She said, immediately halting what you were doing as you processed her words. Had she noticed the way you looked at Valentino? No, there was no way she had…or had she?
“I’m sorry, what?” You stammered, setting down the glass you were cleaning. “Come on, Vel—why the fuck should I do that?”
“Got a bone to pick with that fucker, that’s why,” Velvette said, shrugging before tapping the counter, asking for another drink. “Trust me, babe, he won’t hurt a single hair on your head.”
You complied, feeling slightly relieved that her dare had just been a mere coincidence. Slightly. You still had to call the moth daddy, which was weird because how the hell would that constitute as payback? That’s what you wondered as you grabbed a bottle of tequila, serving Velvette a shot knowing damn well that she preferred cocktails.
“Okay, but that doesn’t help me understand why I should do it,” You said, sliding the shot to her.
“Look, you’ll understand when you do it, alright?” Velvette said, shooting you a dirty look before downing it like a champ in front of you. “Also, never mind calling him daddy,” She added, and you would have sighed in relief if she hadn’t continued, “Say ‘Papi,’ or however the fuck you say daddy in Spanish.”
Yeah, if you used the Spanish version on Valentino, you weren’t going to be able to walk away from him—literally. You might as well ask him to fuck you. As you opened your mouth to protest, a familiar face slid onto the stool next to Velvette. ‘Fuck,’ you thought, averting your eyes and focusing on the dirty glasses you had set aside, trying not to panic.
“Do what?” Valentino asked, chuckling when Velvette shot him a glare over her shoulder.
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.”
Even though the background was filled with the chattering of people and the incessant sound of slot machines being used, the silence that enveloped the bar was painfully loud. You decided to speak up, the tension between the two overlords only serving to exacerbate your anxiety.
“So, uh, what d’ya want, Val?” You asked, clearing your throat.
Valentino turned to you with a hum, his antennas moving at the sound of your voice. As he faced you, you were glad that he had no pupils, irises, or whatever they were called, feeling only slightly intimidated under his stare. Your throat bobbed in anticipation as you watched him contemplate your question, though.
“Hm, tell me, what does the pretty little barkeep recommend?” Valentino eventually asked, his gold tooth glinting under the dim light as he grinned.
“Well, what are you craving?” You asked, backing up and leaning onto the counter behind you, gesturing to the various liquors around you, “I can make you anything—been doing this shit for a long time.”
“You know what? Surprise me.”
Valentino perched his chin on top of his knuckles, intent on watching you work. You mentally sighed, turning around and grabbing the first bottle of liquor you saw, which happened to be rum. It was easy to make something good out of it, so you had a cocktail whipped up for the moth in no time.
“Here ya go—oh! Where’s Velvette?” You asked as you turned around, the stool next to Valentino empty.
“Over there being a fucking piss baby,” He gestured to the other side of the bar with his head. “Nothing new.”
Velvette moved several stools down while you were making Valentino’s drink, which was a bit funny to think about, admittedly. She looked pissed, but he didn’t seem to care, his claws brushing against the back of your hand as he accepted the cocktail. You mentally cursed yourself out for the way your body reacted to the gesture, goosebumps littering your skin.
“Thank you, cariño.”
You were about to ask Valentino if he liked his drink, but then you felt something hit your arm, looking down at your feet to see a crumpled piece of napkin. Yeah, it had to be Velvette. You raised your head to look at her, and oh, did you regret doing that, the way she mouthed “Do it,” with a serious expression making your heart drop.
Chewing your lip, you backed up, hoping that everything would turn out fine. It probably would, especially as Valentino wasn’t that much of a threat compared to the other Vees. You couldn’t even imagine a worst case scenario if you wanted to…unless it had to do with the whole avoiding him thing—then no, everything would not turn out fine.
“So, did I do you right?” You asked, trying your best to appear nonchalant as you leaned over the counter.
You suddenly became painfully aware of everything Valentino did, but you particularly liked the way his antennas moved whenever you spoke, seemingly delighted by the sound of your voice. He placed his drink down on the counter, slightly craning his neck as he took in the sight of you. This was the longest you had ever interacted with him for, and judging by the look on his face, he knew that.
“Of course you did,” Valentino chuckled, the nickname affecting you more than the first time, “It would have been obvious if you hadn’t, no?”
“Right,” You said, feeling Velvette’s stare burn into the side of your head.
Valentino offered you a sly smile as he picked up his drink, but before he could attach his lips to the rim, you reached out and wrapped your hand around his. The way his eyes widened as you leaned in and helped yourself to something that was not yours felt so…powerful. He quickly recovered, though, and you knew that when the scent of cigarettes and alcohol wafted into your nostrils.
“Hm, yes, it would have been obvious,” You hummed, throat bobbing as you swallowed the alcohol.
“I told you,” Valentino said, thinking he had you right where he wanted you.
“I just had to make sure, y’know?” You said, resting your cheek on your palm, looking up at him through your lashes. “Now how’s about you do me right, papi?”
Just like that, Valentino switched up, recoiling as the word left your lips. It’s not that he didn’t like it—no, he fucking loved it. In fact, he’d rail you right there on the counter, forcing you to call him papi over and over again until your voice went hoarse. But the moth knew that you’d never willingly do that, the way Velvette cackled on the other side of the bar a testament of that.
Now, Valentino was pissed, and because you couldn’t tell who it was directed at, you tried to apologize. “I didn’t—“ You started, but then he grabbed your face, bringing you in for a searing kiss that left you feeling rather…dizzy, intoxicated even. “Once I handle this pinche puta desagradecida,” Valentino spoke against your lips, a wicked smile on his face as he watched a pink streak trickle down the corner of your mouth, your eyes half-lidded, “I’ll do you right, baby, mm?” You could only nod, feeling defeated, but at least he’d make you feel good.
Angel Dust:
The first person you befriended at the Hazbin Hotel was Angel Dust. He was friendly—too friendly, even—but you didn’t mind. You liked him, and honestly, you thought he liked you too. But then you saw how often he seemed to be in Husk’s space, never missing an opportunity to invite him into his bed. That is why you took everything Angel said or did with a grain of salt, failing to notice the way he looked at you longingly from across the room, wishing that you reciprocated his feelings.
But when Angel introduced you to Cherri Bomb, a close friend of his, you started to have second thoughts about everything. She quirked a brow at you an hour into a game of Truth or Dare, her eyes darting between you and Angel, who was practically glued to your side. You shrugged Cherri off, though, because what were you supposed to tell her that she didn’t know?
“Shit, ran outta beer. I’m gonna go get me anotha’ one,” Angel announced as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “Don’t ya two play without me, alright?”
Yeah, Cherri didn’t care, and she made that known as she turned to you with a wicked smile on her face. “Truth or Dare?” She asked you, taking a swig of her beer as she waited for your response. You didn’t want to come off as lame, so you put on a brave face and said dare, never anticipating that she’d make you confront Angel in the dumbest way possible.
“Bold—I like it!” Cherri said, looking over her shoulder before suddenly seizing the collar of your shirt. “Come ‘ere, darling.”
“What are you—“ You started.
But you interrupted yourself with a gasp, your faces only a few centimeters apart as she pulled you in. What the Hell was Cherri up to? You wondered, your nose crinkling when her breath fanned against your face. She eventually turned away and settled her lips next to your ear, which you were glad about…until she hit you with something even more unpleasant.
“I dare ya to call Angel daddy,” Cherri said, letting you go before you could process her words.
You shook your head, confused by the idea of calling Angel a term he sometimes referred to himself as. And what would calling him daddy achieve, exactly? Except for making things awkward between the two of you.
“I’m sorry, what?“ You stuttered in disbelief. “That’s—no! I can’t do that!”
“Wait, nah, you’re right,” Cherry said, but she wasn’t agreeing with what you thought she was agreeing to. “Do you know Italian? ‘Cause I think it’d be more effective if you said it in Italian.”
“No,” You deadpanned.
“It’s like, papino, or uh, paparino? Some shit like that. But neither sound that hot, ya know?” Cherry continued. “You can just call him papi, ehh��no, papino.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” You scoffed.
Angel liked Husk, and the last thing you wanted to do was get in between that—or did you?
“What? You gonna pussy out?”
No, you were not, but out of all the things Cherri could have dared you to do, why…that? She laid back on the couch adjacent from you, innocently swinging her legs over the armrest as you rested your face in your palms. You were so busy mentally cursing yourself for caring about how Cherri perceived you that you jumped when the couch dipped next to you.
“Is everythin’ alright with ya?” Angel asked you, your eyes widening when he settled a hand on your back.
As his fingers delicately stroked your spine, an act that felt intimate and therefore forbidden, you figured out Cherri’s reasoning behind her dare. You lowered your hands, peering up at Angel to see him looking down at you with genuine concern. His hand halted as your eyes scoured his face, but when a blush creeped up his neck, embarrassment flooded your brain.
Angel didn’t even look at Husk like that, you realized, most likely fooling around with the poor old bartender because you didn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings. That was a painful thought, but you had no time to beat yourself up over that, especially with Cherri watching you and Angel thinking something was wrong with you.
“Shit—no, sorry,” You quickly said, straightening your back and offering him a smile.
“Are ya sure, honey?” Angel asked, your stomach flipping at the endearing term. That was a first. “Ya took, like, quite a while to answer.”
“Yeah, do ya need to cool down for a sec?” Cherri added, a smug look on her face.
Of course she was acting innocent. But it made sense, considering that the two of you continued to play the game despite Angel telling you not to do so.
“Nah, trust me, I’m good,” You said, trying not to glare at her.
“Ehh, I’m startin’ to think that somethin’ happened while I was away,” Angel said, folding his arms as his eyes darted between the two of you, obviously suspicious.
Cherri downed the rest of her beer, saving herself from having to respond to the spider and leaving you completely at his mercy. It was times like these where you regretted skimping on drinking, so you had no other choice but to get over the stupid dare.
“Yeah, I have no idea what you’re going on about,” You said, leaning back into the couch and crossing your legs.
“I ain’t blind! The two of ya are actin’ all weird and shit,” Angel said, standing up and wildly gesturing around himself with his hands. “I was only away for a few minutes, so what the Hell did ya guys talk about in such a short span of time, huh?”
“Oh, you wanna talk about ‘actin’ all weird and shit’?” You got up from the couch and approached the spider.
Cherri sat up, interested to see what you were up to. You weren’t a pussy, and you were going to show her that.
“I—uh, what?” Angel shook his head, his brows knitted in confusion.
“Please, you act weird all the damn time!” You started, observing how flustered he was under your stare. “Yet I don’t tell you shit.”
“I don’t know what ya talkin’ about—“ Angel started.
“Bullshit.”
You placed a hand on his shoulder, his body immediately growing tense. This was the first time that you had touched Angel, so you weren’t entirely surprised to see him react the way that he did. But when you trailed your hand down, your fingers disappearing into the fluff of his chest, that just proved to you that whatever he felt towards you was different.
“This—do you feel this?” You asked him, noticing the way his heart-rate picked up underneath your palm. “Yeah, that’s what you do to me all the time.”
“This—do you feel this?” You asked him, noticing the way his heart-rate picked up underneath your palm. “Yeah, that’s what you do to me all the time.”
“I, uh—it ain’t no different than how I treat Husk,” Angel weakly countered, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat.
“I’m not talking about Husk,” You said, trying not to glare at Cherri as she squealed. “I’m talking about this,” You placed your hand directly over his heart.
“I make ya feel like…this?” Angel stuttered, reaching up to place his hand over yours.
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t ya tell me anythin’?”
“Because of Husk.”
Angel stared right through you, thinking about how the two of you could have been together if you’d been honest from the start. That was what you gathered from his facial expressions, observing how they alternated between happiness and disappointment.
“I feel like such a jackass,” Angel admitted, pulling you in by the waist with his second set of arms. “All this time ya liked me, and I thought ya didn’t ‘cause—ah, I fucked up, huh?”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything either,” You smiled at him.
“That don’t compare to what I did,” Angel scoffed. “I mean, the whole time we could’ve—“
“How about you shut up and give me a kiss, papino,” You said, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.
You would have received your kiss if you hadn’t added the last part, but hey, you weren’t complaining. The way Angel melted in your arms was reward enough. “Did ya really learn Italian…just for me?” He asked you, too busy swooning over you to notice how your arms trembled as you held him. “Yeah, uh, something like that,” You chuckled, shooting Cherri a glare when she tried to interject. “I think—I think he’s the one that needs to cool down now,” She laughed, but the spider shook his head, mumbling something about wanting to do the opposite in bed with you. Yeah, you were in for a long night.
Credit for Angel’s part:
@/hazbingirliexoxo
(Not sure if they wanted to be tagged again)
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princetofbone · 1 year ago
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long term study tips
a lot of study tip posts that exist have a weird mix of short term and long term tips and that weirds me out, so here are some long term study tips (aka pavlov-ing yourself):
light the same scent of candle every day when you study- eventually the smell of the candle will put you in a study mood
drink the same kind of drink (I always drink green tea) and you will start to associate the process of getting the drink/the smell/the taste with studying
get into a habit of studying for a few minutes every night. Even if you are not doing much, it's something.
play the same playlist whenever you study- hearing "reflections" by Toshifumi Hinata instantly puts me into the study mood
Routines routines routines: the only reason I passed some of my classes last year was because I had routines in place for doing my work (they are falling apart this year, and I'm struggling.)
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creamflix · 6 days ago
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suguru geto x female reader; dark and 18+ content, minors or ageless blogs do not interact. heavy themes of: sex doll [p in v sex], voyeurism, dubcon, sadism. corruption kink. unestablished relationship. barista!reader, customer!suguru. unethical and unhealthy obsession. pretty fucked up fic. continuation of this drabble that deals with the same concept. saw @/prebioticsoup wanting a full fic on this, hope you enjoy ;0 — masterlist here ☆
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the first time suguru sauntered into your café, he did so with an effortless elegance that felt like a scene from a movie.
tall, raven hair in a loose bun, his gaze held a sharp intensity that contrasted with the gentle smile he threw your way. it took him mere minutes to charm not only you but everyone in line behind him, effortlessly making conversation while deciding on his drink.
by the time you handed him his order, he’d already learned your name and left a generous tip, promising he’d be back tomorrow.
the usual morning rush had just tapered off when suguru had wandered up to the counter, his dark eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. it wasn’t unusual to see him here, just… unusual to see him this close, leaning in, his voice almost intimate in how low he kept it.
"hey," he’d murmured, giving you a smile that made his eyes crinkle just so, "any chance you'd be willing to deliver today? been swamped with calls and deadlines. i’ll even tip well.” his tone had softened, and the way he held your gaze was almost dangerous, charming in a way that left a knot forming in your stomach.
he'd even pushed a piece of paper across the counter to you with an address and the keycode scrawled on it, his fingers lingering over yours for a second too long. "it’d mean a lot," he’d added with a small, crooked smile that made you feel seen in a way that was… disarming.
it was weird, sure. most customers would just ask for delivery and be done with it.
but something about his request – or maybe just him – left you both intrigued and hesitant to turn him down.
so here you were, standing in his living room, setting the cup and bag on his coffee table as you called his name softly, only to be met with silence. you were half-turning to leave, thinking of the faint, lingering scent of his cologne that seemed to fill every corner of his place. that's when you heard it. faint, but unmistakable.
the low, needy sounds, a guttural moan that sounded nothing short of desperate.
your cheeks burned instantly, heartbeat loud in your ears as your mind scrambled. logic told you to just leave, but curiosity was whispering in that sly, insistent voice, urging you to at least glance down the hallway.
you took a step.
just one.
then another.
each step felt heavier, your curiosity outweighing the pangs of guilt as you made your way closer to his bedroom door. you froze at the doorway, almost afraid of what you might see.
and there he was, broad shoulders hunched over, his head thrown back, hands gripping the figure beneath him. your jaw dropped as you took in the...doll’s face, an unmistakable likeness – the delicate features, the slight curve of the lips.
it looked just like you.
your breath hitched, shock flooding your veins like ice as you tried to process the sight. the motions were… too real, too vivid. the way his hand cupped its jaw, the low, gravelly way he moaned out your name between harsh breaths. it was as if he were savoring every moment, every touch.
"fuck," he groaned, his tone filled with an intensity that felt too raw, too personal. "god, you feel so…"
your legs felt rooted to the ground, a strange thrill mixing with the panic building up in you. he looked… desperate, completely engrossed, caught up in a rhythm that was unnervingly personal. the harsh way he held the doll’s wrists down, the feverish press of his body against it – like he was starved for something.
for you.
you were still frozen, watching as he slowed, then paused, catching sight of your stunned figure standing in the doorway. his eyes widened for only a second, but the shock was quickly replaced by something darker, the corners of his lips curving up into a small, almost pleased smirk.
"oh," he purred, still holding his position, one brow arching as if he wasn’t surprised at all. "you’re early."
you felt the blood rush to your face, your throat dry as you scrambled to find words, to do anything other than stare at the intimate position he was still in. "i–i thought you… you asked me to deliver it here," you stammered, feeling painfully out of place, your voice wavering as you struggled not to look directly at the doll that looked just like you.
"i did," he murmured, barely suppressing a chuckle as he took in your reaction, his hand trailing down the doll’s neck almost as if he was taunting you. "didn’t think you’d stick around though."
you swallowed, heat pricking at the back of your neck. "i just… i didn’t… i didn’t think–"
"that i'd be so… preoccupied?" his voice was velvet-smooth, a dark gleam in his eyes as he tilted his head, letting his gaze run up and down your body, lingering on the way you fidgeted. he finally pulled away from the doll, sitting up, his long hair falling over his shoulder as he looked at you with an intensity that felt all-consuming.
"maybe," he mused, his voice a low murmur as he stood, moving closer to you with a casual, unhurried grace. "or maybe, somewhere deep down, you were curious to see how much i’ve thought about you."
you felt your throat tighten, your thoughts muddled as he stopped inches away, close enough that you could see the flush of exertion across his cheeks, the gleam in his eyes holding your gaze captive.
"should i be flattered that you stayed?" he asked, his voice soft, laced with that dangerous, teasing tone that made it impossible to pull away. "or…" his fingers reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, letting his knuckles graze your cheek, "maybe you’d like to help me with something… a little more real."
your breath caught, feeling trapped beneath his gaze. “i– i don’t… i mean, i wasn’t —”
"you weren’t?" he repeated, eyes darkening as he took your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to meet his. "yet here you are, standing in my bedroom, looking at me with those wide eyes… like you’re just waiting to see what i’ll do next."
it was overwhelming, his presence, his touch, the low, possessive way he looked at you, like he’d finally caught you in the trap he'd been setting all along.
“why don’t you stay a while?”
you froze, heart hammering as suguru's words sank in. the idea of staying, of being reduced to nothing more than an observer, clawed at something within you — half shock, half intrigue, mingling with the heat creeping up your neck.
“you… you can’t be serious,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, your gaze darting between him and the doll, its face a haunting reflection of your own.
but suguru only leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear, voice low and taunting. “what’s the harm, hm? you’re already here.” he let his fingers trail down your arm, lingering just enough to send a shiver through you. “might as well stay a while, see what all the fuss is about. it’s not every day you get to watch someone with… such an interest in you, is it?”
your pulse raced, the logical part of you screaming to turn and walk out.
but something in his voice, that dark, persuasive drawl, kept you rooted in place, as if he’d tapped into a part of you you’d never fully acknowledged. the part that was curious — intrigued, even, by how far he’d go with his twisted little invitation.
“i don’t… i shouldn’t,” you stammered, swallowing hard, but suguru only chuckled softly, sliding his hand to the small of your back, guiding you to a chair near the bed.
“it’s just a bit of company,” he murmured, a gleam in his eyes as he pressed you gently down into the seat, his gaze holding you captive, daring you to pull away.
“besides… she wants it, too.” he nodded toward the doll, its vacant eyes staring at the ceiling, its features so eerily close to yours that you couldn’t look for too long without feeling a strange unease twist in your stomach.
you felt trapped, your own curiosity betraying you as he settled back down beside the doll, his hand tracing a line down its chest with practiced ease. “don’t worry,” he purred, eyes flashing as he glanced at you, “i’ll make sure you’re entertained.”
the room was unbearably quiet as he resumed his ministrations, his movements slow and deliberate, eyes occasionally flickering to you with that dark satisfaction, like he was relishing every flicker of shock and discomfort that passed over your face. his hands ran over the doll’s body with an intimacy that left you squirming, wishing for some way out, but also oddly compelled to see how far he’d go.
“i can’t believe… you actually did this,” you muttered, the words barely escaping your lips. but suguru only smirked, not breaking his rhythm, the sound of his deep breaths filling the room as he slid his hands down the doll’s thighs, fingers digging in with a fervor that made your pulse spike.
“oh, i did,” he murmured, voice soft, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he locked onto you. “you’d be surprised what a little...inspiration can do.”
the way he moaned, so raw, so brazen, had your skin tingling, a mixture of fascination and horror building in your chest as he tightened his grip on the doll.
his breaths quickened, his hips moving with a fervent rhythm, his eyes darkening as he became lost in the act, as if his entire focus, his whole attention, was still somehow fixated on you.
“don’t look away,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice rough and demanding. “you wanted to know how badly i’ve thought about you… so watch.”
you swallowed, feeling your cheeks heat at the sheer explicitness of his words, of his movements, and yet, you found yourself unable to look away.
every breath, every low groan that slipped from his lips made your own skin prickle with an intensity you hadn’t felt before. it was as if he were baring something intimate, something meant to unsettle and corrupt.
"i’d rather have the real thing," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper, his gaze still locked on you, filled with a dark promise that made your stomach flip. "but until then… i’ll settle for your eyes on me.”
your mind felt like it was spinning, caught in a sickening whirl as suguru’s voice filled the room, each filthy word pouring out of him in a way that felt too real, too intimate, for something so deeply wrong.
he was close now, his breath shallow, body moving with a feverish intensity as he clutched the doll, but the way he murmured your name over and over made the bile rise in your throat.
“god, just like that,” he groaned, voice thick with lust, his hands possessive as they gripped the doll's waist. “so good for me… all mine. aren’t you, sweetheart?”
you wanted to close your eyes, to block it out, but you felt frozen, trapped under his gaze even as he focused on the doll, your name falling from his lips like it was the only thing that mattered.
then, as if things couldn’t possibly get worse, a soft, mechanical voice responded, high-pitched, artificial yet somehow unmistakably… you.
"yes, suguru… just for you," it cooed in a hauntingly familiar tone, distorted but enough to strike deep into your chest, each word an echo of your own voice in some nightmarish, robotic parody.
your stomach lurched, the weight of the situation crashing down on you in a way that left you dizzy, eyes blurring with tears as you fought to steady your breath, each strained inhale feeling harder than the last.
“aw, look at you,” suguru cooed mockingly, eyes gleaming as he watched the tears streaming down your face, a twisted satisfaction painted across his expression.
“crying just for me, are we? i thought you’d be flattered.” his fingers trailed down the doll’s cheek with a tenderness that made the sick feeling intensify, his gaze still locked on you.
"don’t cry, baby,” he murmured, mocking you with a twisted sort of sympathy. “she’s just here to keep me company, since you won’t. can you blame me for getting a little creative?"
you choked back a sob, feeling raw, humiliated, completely at his mercy as he kept up his relentless rhythm, the doll’s mechanical responses egging him on, answering every filthy question, every degrading murmur he threw its way.
"you like watching, don’t you?" he smirked, his tone filled with a cruel, taunting pleasure as he drank in your broken expression. "don’t lie… i know this does something to you."
his words felt like a blade, twisting deeper with every passing second, leaving you no choice but to sit there, helpless, as he continued to taunt you with the very thing meant to mimic your own likeness.
“god — yes, just like that,” suguru moaned, his voice cracking with intensity, holding the doll flush against him as he reached his high. his hips stilled, shuddering as he let out a long, drawn-out groan, his grip tightening as if he were clinging to something real, something alive.
“so perfect… so fucking perfect,” he whispered, pressing his face into the doll’s neck, his breath heavy, voice softening with something disturbingly close to tenderness.
“i love you, you know that?” he muttered, brushing a hand over the doll’s cheek as if it could actually feel him.
“i love you too, suguru,” the doll responded, its tone mechanical, almost monotone but laced with that twisted imitation of your voice, sending chills down your spine.
the words hit like a gut punch, so painfully distorted, and yet the very sound was familiar enough to make you feel sick.
you pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, biting back the sobs that kept threatening to spill out, each one tearing at your throat as you tried to swallow them down, praying that if you closed your eyes hard enough, this would all disappear. that you’d open your eyes, and he’d be gone, and this would be nothing but a dark, twisted nightmare.
but he was still there, watching you through half-lidded eyes, his face flushed, a lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “poor thing,” he murmured, still breathless, his tone dripping with mock sympathy as he took in the way you shook, tears staining your cheeks. “can’t handle it, huh?”
you sucked in a shuddering breath, struggling to form words, but they felt caught in your throat, trapped under the weight of his gaze. “suguru… this… this is sick.”
“oh, come on now,” he cooed, tilting his head as he ran a finger down the doll’s arm, treating it with a tenderness that felt all too deliberate, all too pointed. “you were curious enough to stay, weren’t you? and look at you… all red-eyed and pretty, just for me.” he chuckled, leaning back as he gave you a once-over, eyes dancing with that twisted amusement.
“this is… this is insane,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, hating the tremble in it, hating how small and vulnerable you felt under his gaze.
but he only smirked, completely unbothered by your shock, by your horror. “oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice low, dripping with satisfaction. “you think this is bad?” he gestured toward the doll with a smug little tilt of his head. “this was only meant to tide me over until you’d come around.”
your vision blurred with fresh tears, his words sinking in, twisting in your chest like a knife. you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to block out his voice, the doll’s eerie mimicry of your own, everything. you felt raw, torn open, humiliated beyond anything you’d ever experienced.
“just go ahead,” he continued, taunting, his tone deceptively soft. “cry all you want. i’ll be right here, watching every beautiful, broken second of it.”
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kelocitta · 8 days ago
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Hi hi!!
I've always been impressed and amazed by your art, the way you use shapes is really communicative and I just love how gogeous it looks
I was wondering if maybe you could share a bit on how you draw ? Because you're genuinely an inspiration for me and I'd love to see the behind the scene if it makes sense
Thank you for posting your art it's always a pleasure to see c:
have a nice day/night and don't forget to drink water!!
I actually made something akin to this a while back but got shy/paranoid about it, so maybe here is an alright time to share at least a part of it :)
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The best way I can think of is it that with digital art I dont really think about things in terms of mixing paints but more like a paper doll or paper cut art- some pieces you want to look stuck together and others you want to look glued to the back, but also maybe you reuse the same piece of paper a lot. It's not 100% how I'm going about things, but the mindset is close enough. I like when things look clean and connected or have a sense of flow to them, so a lot of colors will flow into a different part in a line. Everything is very heavy on the layers, which means in any given piece i can probably pull the whole thing apart and change bits and pieces individually. This is what the average WIP looks like:
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You'll notice theres a lot of smooth continuous lines and "meeting points" for curves. Even if i drew them at different points, I usually make them lead into each other on purpose. It's not really complicated, but also my methods are the probably extremely weird and nonsensical because something about digital art stops me from being able to process how things should work. It's very different from traditional for me.
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isuckatwritingsobenice · 2 months ago
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How would you feel about dipper with a s/o that turns out to be a vampire?? At first he just sees them as a little odd since he only sees them around at night and they never eat the snacks he brings them to share, but sooner or later he figures it out!
A/N: I like this so much it’s so cute. I could see Dipper being so into like the paranormal / weird-shitness, that his s/o is either apart of it or just as into it as he is
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
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Dipper Pines has always been drawn to the unusual, so when he starts dating you, he notices a few quirks right away. You’re always available to hang out in the evening, but you’re nowhere to be found during the day. He chalks it up to you being a night owl—after all, he’s stayed up late plenty of times himself. He also notices that you never seem to eat the snacks he brings along for your little adventures. Whether it’s candy, chips, or even your favorite drink, you always politely decline, offering a vague excuse like, “I’m just not that hungry.”
At first, Dipper doesn’t think much of it. Maybe you have some dietary restrictions, or you just don’t like eating in front of people. But as time goes on, he starts to wonder if there’s something more to it. He’s used to being around strange creatures and supernatural events, so the idea that something might be a little off isn’t entirely foreign to him. Still, he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, especially because he really likes you and doesn’t want to scare you off with his overactive imagination.
One night, while you’re both out exploring the woods around the Mystery Shack, he notices something that makes his heart skip a beat. As the moonlight filters through the trees, it catches your eyes at just the right angle, and for a split second, they flash a deep, unnatural red. He blinks, thinking it’s a trick of the light, but then it happens again, and suddenly everything starts to click into place.
His mind races as he recalls all the little details—your aversion to daylight, your refusal to eat, the way you seem to glide rather than walk when you move quickly. He remembers the stories he’s read, the legends about creatures of the night who hide in plain sight. The realization hits him like a ton of bricks: you’re a vampire.
Dipper’s initial reaction is a mix of excitement and nervousness. He’s always wanted to uncover the mysteries of the world, and now he’s dating one! But at the same time, he’s a little scared. Vampires are supposed to be dangerous, right? He wonders if you’ve ever been tempted to drink his blood or if you’re hiding more secrets from him.
He decides to confront you, but he’s careful about it. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel like he’s afraid of you. So one night, after you’ve been wandering through the woods for a while, he gently brings it up.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” he starts, trying to keep his voice steady.
You glance at him, curious. “Sure, what’s up?”
Dipper hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “Are you… are you a vampire?”
For a moment, there’s silence. You don’t respond right away, and Dipper’s heart pounds in his chest as he wonders if he’s made a huge mistake. But then, you let out a small sigh, and your shoulders relax.
“I was wondering when you’d figure it out,” you admit, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Dipper’s eyes widen in surprise. “So it’s true?”
You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, it is. I’m a vampire. But I promise I’m not like the ones you see in movies. I’m not here to hurt anyone, especially not you.”
He relaxes a little at that, though he’s still processing the revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I was worried about how you’d react,” you admit, your voice softening. “I didn’t want to scare you off. You’re… really important to me, Dipper.”
The sincerity in your voice melts away the last of his fears. He’s faced so many strange and terrifying things in Gravity Falls, and yet here you are, a vampire, and all you’ve ever shown him is kindness and affection. It dawns on him that you’ve been trusting him with your secret all along, and that means more to him than anything.
“I’m not scared,” he says, his voice firm. “I mean, okay, I was a little freaked out at first, but I’m not scared of you. You’re still you, and that’s what matters to me.”
Your eyes soften as you look at him, touched by his words. “Thank you, Dipper. That means a lot.”
Dipper reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “So… does this mean you can turn into a bat? Or like, hypnotize people?”
You laugh, and the sound is music to his ears. “I can do a few cool things, but I promise I’ll never use them on you.”
As the two of you continue your walk, Dipper can’t help but feel a surge of pride. He’s dating a vampire, and not just any vampire—he’s dating you, someone who’s proven time and time again that they care about him. The revelation only deepens his feelings for you, and as the night goes on, he finds himself more in awe of you than ever before.
From that night forward, your relationship becomes even stronger. There are no more secrets between you, and Dipper’s curiosity about your vampire abilities only makes him want to learn more about you. You share stories about your past, about the different places you’ve seen and the things you’ve experienced, and Dipper hangs on every word, fascinated by the world you’ve lived in.
And you, in turn, feel a sense of relief and happiness. Dipper accepts you for who you are, without fear or judgment, and that makes you love him even more. Together, you explore the mysteries of Gravity Falls, your bond growing deeper with each passing night.
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amymbona · 1 month ago
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I was thinking about being Patrick’s childhood friend and accidentally marrying him at Las Vegas. You’ve been in love with him for years and he with you, but neither of you know that the other is in love with each other. The marriage is completely legit and it’s weird, but it is so much work and money to get a divorce. You’re both close anyway and there are some benefits to staying married, so might as well right? Patrick agrees and you both go with it. The fact that you’re both secretly in love with each other has nothing to do with that decision of course…
Just all the domestic bliss of living with someone you’ve loved for ages but are unable to properly say it. Slowly coming to realize both of you are in love wirh each other and that this is the happiest mistake of your life.
(very vague ik but just some thoughts)
Ughhh imagine going on a lovey dovey honeymoon because both of you feel like two weeks spend tanning at the beach and drinking cocktails are more than needed. If Patrick is still playing tennis, he's like semi-famous, so the two of you might meet a guy or two who excitedly take selfie with him and then swiftly tweet how the Zweig guy is married!
The way the two of you act is a mix of friendly and romantic, cause nothing changed, but actually everything has changed. You know what I mean? It's no secret the two of you are touchy, giggly and all that jazz, like you've been best friends since you've learned how to speak! You genuinely don't mind if Patrick sees your boob when the top of your bikini slips while the two of you are swimming the sea; he literally held your hair and rubbed your back when you first got drunk, and changed a pad for you once as well. There's no hint of embarrassment or fear between the two of you.
However, for some reason, Patrick can't keep his eyes off of you. He's looking at you in such a different - lustful - way, but not in the sense that he'd bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you. God, you're glowing, you're like an angel, like a goddamn diamond that shines brighter than the cheap gold ring he put on your finger (he needs to buy you a prettier one). He longs to see you in pretty dresses, to lay in bed with you while you're reading your favourite book, to twirl your hair around his finger, to kiss your pink lips. But do you feel the same way about him?
And, oh, you do. You fucking do, and it drives you crazy. If only Patrick knew how much you wish you were one of the girls that are mentioned in articles about him, how much you wish that the two of you could go out in public and people would speculate it you're just a family friend or something more. And now you might have it, but is it really what you dreamed about?
It's like a fever dream to you actually, like a beautiful dream that you will wake up from once you make it back to the USA, slipping into consciousness and forced to part ways. What if the excitement will wear of? What if Patrick will realise that this situation offers no benefits at all and decides to go through the awful process of a divorce.
Patrick manages to convince you otherwise, especially when he scoops you into his arms while you're walking along the beach and threatens to drop you into the water, when he buys you your favourite flavour of ice cream and wipes a drop of it from your chin. The more Patrick does, the more you find yourself falling in love with him, which can't be good at all. But in the end, these are just the feelings that you've managed to repress for years, and maybe now, you'll be finally allowed to let them flow freely, considering you're officially Mrs Zweig.
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24hlevi · 10 months ago
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I know we've got Lottie x innocent reader.. But what about th othe yjs 🤔🤔🤔
ooooh 🤭 imma give a few thoughts for each of them cause i love this but can't come up with full hcs sorry. thank you for continuing the innocent reader vision anon 🫶 also this is more with their adult versions in mind!
shauna -
- shauna adores your innocence, she literally thinks it's the cutest thing ever when you two first get together, how you haven't done anything like smoking or drinking, how you wear whatever clothes you want without realizing the way people look at you in said outfits
- she will subconsciously baby you tho, she will of course stop if you say for her to but she loves babying you :( not in like a weird way but just in a nurturing way that shows she loves you dearly
- she has such a thing for marking you up for everyone else to see how your hers and hers only, a smile always forming on her face whenever you don't try to cover it up and you two go out being given weird looks by the amount of hickeys on your neck
- she tries to start out slow with you during your first time with her but she can't help but get rough at the sounds of you whining and moaning just for her :(
nat -
- she's the one who enjoys your innocence the most, the fact that you have barely done anything rebellious in your life leads nat to being the gf who will make you do reckless things and live life to the fullest, maybe getting arrested in the process (oops)
- nat also thinks it's kinda cool that you two are polar opposites when in public and you're wearing the cutest thing possible and she's just in her leather jacket and jeans, she'd rather die than use the word aesthetic for how pleasing it is, but that's what it is lol
- nat is also the biggest on the corruption side of things, to just break down those innocent walls that stop you from whimpering her name underneath her is like winning a prize to her and when you finally let go of feeling shy and innocent, she is going to make sure you know you're hers
- thinking of her teaching you how to ride her strap for the first time and she slowly coaxes you into moving your hips faster and make more pretty noises for her, smiling at your whines before flipping you over and just pounding into you
misty -
- misty definitely takes advantage of your innocence, most of the time without you even realizing it, which makes it better for her in the end when she makes you do things that you wouldn't do otherwise without her there, it gives her a sense of pride and that she's needed
- she also just thinks it's cute when you have little to no idea what's going on or when people try to flirt with you and you just think they're being nice, misty is one to get jealous, but just so she can take you back home and make sure you remember who you belong to
- misty is the second biggest on corruption imo, she loves how innocent you are, buying you pretty revealing clothing to wear around the house so she can have you whenever she wants and seeing your eyes widen when she grabs you by your hips pulling you towards her gets her going so bad she will take you right then and there
- roleplay is huge for misty, especially medical themes, and she loves opening your mind to those things and show you how to have fun and have a good time as well even when she's three gloved fingers inside of you and is degrading you beyond belief mixed with praises
tai -
- the only normal one (jk), tai is one that thinks it's cute and enjoys the way that your innocence is genuine and how it's just how you are, not like you're doing it on purpose or something
- tbh tai doesn't seem like she would get jealous because of it, will she glare daggers at whoever is attempting to flirt with you to the point they back off? yes. but she won't be verbal about it 😭 you go over to her wondering why the overly kind person just left and she's like "ah idk babe" acting like she wasn't killing them with her mind
- tai will make you be verbal with what you want, she won't do anything until you tell her what it exactly is that you want, loving to see the way you break down crumbling and soon start begging for her to do something, anything
- you cannot tell me this woman doesn't have a thing for being called ma'am, like you'd say it as a joke and she would immediately change up and tell you to say it again which leads to a newly found word to use when having sex
van -
- van thinks your innocence is a little silly at first (affectionately), how you don't realize the certain things you do would be seen as flirting or not noticing when others are flirting with you, they think its silly
- they definitely show you all kinds of movies you haven't seen before to expand your horizons of cinema and entertainment, especially the more spicy ones to open your mind to some things 🤭
- van grins so hard when you tell them you wanna try something that you saw in a movie or something else and immediately drops everything to do it, they'll take their time with you to make sure you actually want to do it before going down on you like never before
- van is into experimenting with anything, whatever you wanna do they will gladly do for you, you basically become their pillow princess/prince and they will make sure the neighbors can hear cause they just love the sounds you make when they're pounding into you with their strap
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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago
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could we get a blurb where rafe saves reader at a party?
it's gets a little handsy for her with some of his friends and one of them tries to go too far and rafe saves her?
thank you for this request omg!! i hope it lives up to your expectations (even tho its a little long to be a blurb oops-) and i'm sorry this took me so long!
get the fuck off her - r.c.
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pairing: rafe x fem!kook!reader
wc: 2.4k
tags/warnings: angst, comfort, implications of attempted sa, intentional use of lowercase, violence (kinda), some generally triggering stuff so please if any of this is upsetting for you please go read something else!
requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)
nav/masterlists
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"you're not funny kelce, has anyone ever told you that before?" you raise an eyebrow at your friend, talking loudly over the blaring music as you cross your arms over your chest.
"actually no, that's a first." kelce replies snarkily, mocking your posture. "you're lying though, babe- i know you think i'm hilarious."
you roll your eyes, a smile still present on your face. your pupils are blown, lids drooping slightly as you immediately forget the interaction and sway with the music.
"c'mon, you know you love me." kelce chuckles, stepping closer and placing his hands on your waist. you laugh, brushing his hands off smoothly.
rafe is biting into the rim of his plastic cup as he watches, previously enjoying a sip of whatever jungle juice someone had left on the counter. he's watching closely, and though you laughed it off, he knew you well- and he knew you weren't a big fan of being touched. kelce should know better too.
it's only a matter of minutes before it happens again, topper approaching the group and slinging his arm over your shoulder which you don't even process with the concoction of substances mixing in your bloodstream.
"rafe, man, your sister's a bitch, bro." topper whines, leaning into you further.
"that so?" rafe chuckles, watching topper's arm slide down to your back.
"yeah, she's leading me on, then fucking off and leaving me high and dry." he explains vaguely. "i bet you wouldn't do that to me, would you, sweetheart?" he says to you, hand sliding lower, lower, until his fingers reach the bottom of your shirt and the skin of your back.
"i don't think it's personal, top. have you tried talking to her about it?" you suggest, wrapping your arms around yourself, subtly holding the hem of your shirt down.
topper rolls his eyes, leaning closer to make sure you hear him as you lend him your ear. "i just hate talking though... don't you?" he says, lips brushing over the skin of your neck.
"you're drunk, top..." you laugh nervously, very briefly making eye contact with rafe standing across from you in the small circle you've created.
"hey, what'd he say?" rafe asks over the music, brow furrowed with the instant rush of sobriety.
you smile nervously at him. "nothing... he's just being weird." you chuckle, shaking your head and trying to move away. "i'm gonna go get another drink. i'll be back." you squeeze out of toppers grip and walk off through the crowd towards the corner where you hid your cooler.
you bop your head along to the mac miller song that started on your way over, humming along to the tune and laughing a little at other people chanting along to the lyrics. you quickly grab another drink out of the cooler before shoving it back in the mostly empty cupboard and closing it again.
"she's not gonna fuck you, bro. i'll tell you that right now." rafe shakes his head at his friend, taking another sip of the overly sweet drink.
"have you seen her? it's well worth the shot if the worst she can say is no." topper laughs, and rafe clenches his jaw, looking again over the crowd to try and keep an eye on you. "the best she can say is absolutely, and she's into me, i can tell."
"oh, can you now?" rafe mumbles, eyes landing on you at last as you close the cupboard and crack open your can. if you had any feelings for any of the boys you regularly hung out with, it was a secret to him. you were a puzzle to him, despite your friendly and sometimes flirty personality.
"yeah, but she's not gonna let me hit with you clowns around. i'll be back, or not." topper laughs, pushing back through the crowd in the direction of you.
rafe decides to let him go. you could make your own decisions, and clearly, you were going to say no, and topper would come sulking back in a few minutes after striking out. he watched as topper made it up to you, starting a conversation. you were laughing, and he figured that was a good time to let you handle yourself.
except for a few moments later, when he looked up from his conversation with kelce and another girl that appeared by his side, to see you with your back to the wall in a corner, topper standing over you.
"hey, i think we should get back to the guys..." you chuckle nervously, taking a step back and hitting the wall.
"why? i told them we'd be a while." topper smirks, hands once again finding your waist and sliding under the hem of your shirt.
"well i didn't, i said i'd be back and-"
"get that stick out of your ass, won't you? we're having fun." he insists, leaning down over you and brushing his lips over your jaw.
you bite your lip nervously, scanning the room to see if there's anyone near enough to talk to to pull yourself out of this situation. "top, please, i don't want to do this can we just head back?"
"i know you want to give me a shot, you won't regret it..." he mumbled against your skin, hands sliding up farther under your shirt as the sound of your heartbeat echoed over the music in your ears.
you panic, trying weakly to just push him off at this point and create any kind of distance between the two of you as his hands press into your skin. "please don't topper, you're drunk..." you say, but it comes out whinier than you intended. the disconnect between your mind and your body is showing, and you can see that as you're fumbling to get your hands to reach his shoulders just enough to get him to back off. you didn't need to, when a moment later he was pulled back with a force unforeseen by either of you.
"get the fuck off her, man."
it's rafe, and he's angry. you've seen him like this before, sure, but the look behind his eyes is new as he shoved topper away, dropping the grip he held on the back of his shirt. "rafe, c'mon." topper chuckles, adjusting his shirt and rubbing the front of his neck where the fabric had dug into his skin.
just as quickly, rafe's fist was gripping the front of his shirt again, getting face to face with him. "no, she was literally pushing you off and you didn't take that as a no?" rafe's forehead is almost pressed to toppers as he backs him into the kitchen island.
"rafe!" you shout, voice shaky as you try to get his attention. "let him go, it's fine."
rafe looks back over his shoulder at you, standing with your arms crossed tightly over your stomach. he sighs, dropping the fabric before turning to you. "you okay, y/n/n?" he asks, shaking out his fist.
you nod shakily, pulling your shirt back down from where it had ridden up with the disturbance.
"you sure?" he asks again, looking you up and down with concern drawn between his brows.
you continue to nod, looking around now for where topper had put down your drink when he took it out of your hand to back you into the wall. "i'm fine... just, yeah. it's fine." you chuckle awkwardly.
"no, it's not. come on. i'll walk you home, yeah?"
"rafe, c'mon, she said it's fine. she can stay longer." kelce interjects, having followed him over.
rafe throws his hands up in frustration as he turns to his friends. "shut the fuck up, kelce! i'll beat the shit out of both of you. seriously, i don't give a shit." he turns back to you. "c'mon, i'll grab your bag. lets get you out of here."
as rafe leads you away, you avoid eye contact with his friends, arms still crossed to quell your shakiness. rafe pulls your cooler bag back out of the cupboard and throws it over his shoulder before guiding you to the door. you're relieved to feel the cool sea breeze hit your skin, you didn't even realize how stuffy it was and how claustrophobic you felt until you got outside and you could finally breathe again.
"seriously, are you okay?" rafe asks again, feeling nervous that you only said it was fine before because there were so many people around. he's still tense, angry, but he's making an effort to seem calm since now he's alone with you.
"yeah, uh, yeah. fine." you nod softly, staring down at your feet as you make your way to the sidewalk. "just... a little shaken up, i guess."
rafe adjusts your bag over his shoulder, then proceeds to rub his hand over his forehead. "i'm sorry, that was shitty."
"it happens, unfortunately..." you laugh awkwardly, trying to shrug it off.
rafe looks down at you as you walk, still avoiding eye contact with him. "has top done that before? i'll go back and-"
"no! no, he's never done that before." you assure him. "i don't know, like, going to a party around a bunch of people you kind of know and kind of don't know is never... comfortable. it's hard to get comfortable and then when you do something like that happens and-" you laugh to yourself. "sorry, i shouldn't rant to you about this."
"no, by all means." rafe replies, urging you on. "you can tell me anything."
"thanks, but i think i'm done." you grin, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you walk.
"does that actually happen to you like... often?" he asks after a few moments of silence.
"not often, and its never been that scary- i guess?" you explain. "just sometimes, some guy will touch me or say something and i just get this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is wrong and it's hard to shake. it sticks with you. more often than not if you say no they'll retaliate, either get mad or spread lies about you or whatever. so i just kind of.. freeze. when you don't know what to do, sometimes you don't do anything and you just have to laugh it off. it is what it is, i guess."
"right." rafe nods, deep in thought over what you had said. "so what i'm hearing, is that you never actually slept with devin?"
you laugh at this, tone still slightly wobbly. "i told you i didn't, remember?"
"ah, yes. you did tell me that." rafe remembers how sitting at the country club bar together just weeks prior he had asked you about this rumour and you denied it, shaking your head as you sipped on a virgin daiquiri. "i didn't really believe it anyways. devin's a prick." 
"he really is." you agree, looking up now at the sky. "thank you, by the way," you add, looking over at your friend now for the first time since you left. you're met with confusion in his eyes as he returns your gaze. "for, like, rescuing me."
"i shouldn't have had to. that was fucked." rafe shakes his head. "don't thank me, that's so... twisted. if topper could have gotten through his thick skull that maybe you're not into him-"
"he thinks i'm into him?" you laugh, eyes wide now.
"well, hopefully not anymore." rafe chuckles. "but knowing him, he still probably doesn't get it. i'll talk some sense into him."
"please do." you sigh. "he won't believe it from me, apparently."
"honestly, i don't think i can look at him for the next week." rafe admits.
"tell me about it."
another few moments of silence follow. "you know, you don't have to hangout with us. if we make you uncomfortable we can keep our distance."
"you're the only one who never has." you smile at him. "surprisingly." you add teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his arm.
"what's that supposed to mean?" rafe chuckles, already knowing it was a joke.
you just shrug in response. "you know, you're whole 'bad boy' rep you've got going on."
"i can still be cool and like... not make girls uncomfortable. that's actually kind of the point."
"that's a good point." you agree. "the girls do flock to you."
rafe rolls his eyes at this, smiling as he shakes his head. "not that... that's what i want. it just kind of happens."
"so you get it?" you giggle, feeling the shakiness you previously had finally slightly subsiding.
"well, no. when i tell them to fuck off they... you know, fuck off." he laughs.
"ah- what a pleasure that must be." you joke, stopping as you're now standing in front of your driveway. "thanks for walking me home. it was hard to breathe in there."
rafe stops too, looking down the long driveway to your house. "of course, anytime." he nods, looking at you for a moment before he realizes you're waiting for your bag. "shit, sorry..." he laughs, dropping it from his shoulder and handing it back to you.
"all good." you grin, taking it and putting it on.
"well, I've got to get going. i have a guy to beat up, so..."
as he turns away, you speak to him again. "rafe, don't." your voice is quieter now, and as he looks back at you he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. "please." you add, so softly he's sure if he didn't see your lips moving he wouldn't have heard it. "it'll just make it worse... i just want to forget about it."
"okay, hey, hey- i was kidding. i won't touch him." rafe is quick to backtrack, holding a hand out to grab your shoulder but he hesitates, dropping it again. "are you sure you're okay?"
that's when the floodgates open, and your hands are flying up to your face to cover it as you start to sob. the shock had worn off by now, and the reality of what could have happened was setting in. rafe didn't know what to do, looking around to make sure no one could see. "y/n... what can i do?" he asks, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and tell you how safe you are, that everything is okay, but he knows touching you probably wouldn't be wise.
you can't answer. you can hardly breathe as you feel your chest tightening. you try and laugh, wiping your eyes and looking up at him. you wish he wasn't seeing this. you shake your head, deciding to just sit down on the grass.
rafe sits next to you, tucking his knees up to his chest like you had, crossing his arms over top. "you're safe, y/n/n." he tells you, leaning his head on his forearms and watching you. "can i stay with you?"
at this you just move a little closer, leaning your forehead onto his shoulder instead. he freezes up, just for a second, before moving so he can brace his hand on the ground behind you. "I've got you. i'm not going anywhere..."
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taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe
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snowysosturn · 26 days ago
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Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 4
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo
Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?
Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of court, slight angst
Leaving the courthouse, I couldn’t shake the buzzing energy coursing through me. My feet moved faster than my brain, and before I knew it, I was on the subway. I didn’t need to think about where I was headed, I just knew I had to tell someone, and it had to be Willow. She’d understand better than anyone. After all, we had just talked about both Chris and Nate only a few days ago. The odds of bumping into Chris after reminiscing about him? Too weird.
I had Willow's live location on my phone and saw she was home. Perfect. No need for a warning text. I got off the subway and sped walked to her apartment in Beacon Hill and hurried up the steps, barely pausing to catch my breath before knocking. When she opened the door, her face lit up with curiosity.
“Oh hey! Everything alright?”
I stepped inside quickly, my heart still racing. “You’re not going to believe who I just ran into.”
Her eyes widened as she shut the door behind me. “Who?”
“Chris.” I said, my voice almost breathless.
“Wait, Chris Chris?” she asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Yes, that Chris.” I confirmed, and her jaw dropped.
“Oh my God! You have to tell me everything.”
We walked into her living room, as I spilled every detail of my courthouse encounter. 
“I saw him at the courthouse. He was there for Nate, apparently, but Willow.. he looked so good."
Willow dropped onto the couch, her mouth open in disbelief. "Oh my god. What are the odds of that?"
"I know, right?" I said, feeling my face flush again. "We had a little catch up when we ran into eachother outside. Nothing serious, but I was dying inside the whole time. Then Nate showed up, and it got a little awkward, but Chris asked if we could hang out sometime."
She leaned forward, wide eyed. "And what did you say?"
"I said yes obviously, have you seen the man?"
"Well no.. no one has in years." Willow laughs. “What was Nate there for?”
“Uh something about over possession of weed, I should’ve been listening better but I was kind of in a state of shock.”
“Oh..bit of a red flag.. but you have to admit..” she said, grinning, “the universe is totally messing with you right now. We were just talking about him and now he’s asking you to hang out.”
“I know, it’s crazy.” I shook my head, still processing it all. “Speaking of listening better, I need to write a report on the court case today, can I stay here and do it?”
“Yeah of course, we can get takeout or something.” Willow suggests.
We spent the next hour gossiping, ordering pizza, and chatting about Chris, all while I tried to write my report. Our food arrived and the moment I closed over my laptop, my phone dinged. I instinctively glanced at the screen, and my heart skipped a beat.
It was an Instagram notification.
I checked it, and there it was – a message from Chris. I stared at the screen for a second, then gasped, my eyes widening in disbelief.
“What? What happened?” Willow asked, almost dropping the boxes of pizza.
I turned to her with a mix of shock and smugness, unable to hide my excitement. “It’s him.”
“No way.” She said dropping the boxes on the table and rushing over, peering at my phone. “What did he say?”
I read the message aloud. “He asked if we could plan a date.”
Willow squealed, nearly knocking over her drink. “You have to respond. Now.”
“I don’t want to seem desperate!” I protested. “Let me wait a few minutes. Just.. you know, play it cool.”
But Willow wasn’t having it. “Y/n, please. It’s Chris. The way you’ve gone on the last few days you’d think you’re yearning for the love of your life.”
Reluctantly, I typed out a reply, my fingers shaking slightly as I hit send. Almost instantly, my phone buzzed again with his response.
@christophersturniolo: Great! How about dinner at Woods Hill on Friday?
I glanced at Willow, my heart racing all over again. “He’s suggesting a fancy restaurant.”
“Of course he is” she said, a smirk on her lips. “You better say yes.”
I nodded, my mind spinning, and quickly agreed to the plan. A moment later, another message popped up, this time with his phone number.
@christophersturniolo : Text me your address on Friday, and I’ll pick you up.
I couldn’t believe how quickly this was happening. But as excited as I was, a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder... Woods Hill was a pretty fancy place, how was he affording something like that? I knew his family situation wasn’t great, but I couldn’t base it off that after all these years, I wondered what he was doing with himself now, but i’m sure i’d find out soon enough.
Friday came faster than I expected. I stood in front of the mirror, checking my reflection for what felt like the hundredth time. My outfit was simple but elegant – a blue grey two piece set, something that worked for a nice dinner but wasn’t too over the top. I wanted to look good, but not like I was trying too hard. My parents were out of town for the weekend, I was relieved I didn’t have to explain this whole “first date with a guy I haven’t seen in six years” situation.
After one last glance at my reflection, I texted Chris my address: 
28 Glenland Rd, Brookline.
He replied almost immediately.
Chris S: On my way. See you soon!
I tried to stay calm, but my nerves were all over the place. What would we even talk about? How was he doing after all these years? Was this going to be awkward? I didn’t have much time to dwell on it because soon enough, I saw his car – a black Mercedes, pull up outside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.
Chris was waiting outside, leaning casually against his car with that same confident smile. He looked good, almost too good.
“You look amazing.” he said, holding the car door open for me.
“Thanks” I smiled, feeling a little more at ease as I got in.
As we drove to Woods Hill, the conversation between Chris and me felt effortless, like slipping into a familiar rhythm. It wasn’t long before we were laughing about old memories from being teenagers, moments we hadn’t spoken about in years. I couldn’t help but glance over at him, the sound of his laughter making me feel nostalgic and... something more. It was like time hadn’t passed at all, yet everything felt new.
But there was a shift in the air as we neared the restaurant. Woods Hill was upscale, the kind of place that required a reservation and wasn’t cheap. As much as I enjoyed his company, I couldn’t help but continue to wonder—how was he affording this? I debated whether to ask or let it slide.
Chris seemed to notice my silence as he pulled into the parking lot. “You okay?” he asked, shooting me a glance that was both teasing and concerned.
I smiled, trying to brush off the worry. “Yeah, it’s just... you seem like you’re doing well for yourself” I said, keeping my tone light but curious.
His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, flashing me that same charming grin I remembered. “I’m getting by.”
There was something unspoken in his response, something that left a lingering question in the back of my mind. But I let it go for now. The valet took the car, and we headed inside.
Once seated, the ambiance hit me immediately. The restaurant was warm and intimate, with soft lighting and elegant decor that made it feel like we were the only two people there. I caught Chris’s eye across the table, and for a moment, it felt like time slowed down. There was something about the way he looked at me, like he was really seeing me, not just the girl he used to know but the woman I had become. It made my heart skip a beat.
The waiter came and took our orders, and as the quiet settled between us, Chris leaned in a little closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “So” he said, voice low and warm, “what are you doing in college? What’s the big plan for you?”
I couldn’t help but smile. He always had a way of making me feel like I was the only thing that mattered. “I’m studying law.”
His eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise lighting up his face. “Law? Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a lot, but I love it” I said, feeling a little rush of pride. “I want to help people, maybe work in criminal law eventually.”
He leaned back, his eyes locked on mine, so surprised it almost knocks the breath out of him. “Law… I didn’t see that coming. But it suits you. You’ve always been sharp, and now you’re out here trying to change the world. That’s… pretty amazing, Y/n.”
Hearing him say that made my heart flutter in a way I wasn’t expecting. His words were sincere, the admiration in his voice making me feel warm inside. The way my pulse quickened every time his gaze lingered on mine. It wasn’t just catching up with an old friend. It was something more.
“I don’t know about changing the world just yet” I said, laughing softly. “But I work in my mom’s bridal studio too, you know, gotta earn my own living.”
“Oh she still has that going? I remember you going in there to get money off her when we hung out one day.”
“Oh my god I remember that day so well! We went and sat on the grass in Public Garden for hours just chatting, so weird to think of how long ago that is now.. What do you do for work actually?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
Chris hesitated, just for a split second, but it was enough for me to notice. “I.. do some odd jobs here and there. Nothing major. Kind of like freelance”
“Oh that’s cool” I replied, not trying to look too deep into anything, even though alarm bells were going off in my mind. Maybe it would come with time where he opened up about his own life a bit more. 
But in saying that, not too long after he told me he was still living in Somerville, but no longer with his family.
“I’m staying with my uncle now” he explained, sipping his drink. “Medford Street.”
I paused, the name ringing a bell. “Medford Street? That’s kind of a rough area, isn’t it?”
He shrugged, brushing it off. “Yeah, it’s not the nicest, but it works for now.”
I nodded, though something about his response didn’t sit right with me. The easy way he dismissed it, like he didn’t want to get into too much detail. There was more going on than he was letting on, but I didn’t push it. Not tonight.
As we continued talking, I felt myself softening toward him more and more. Every laugh, every shared memory seemed to pull us closer together. It was like we were both trying to pick up where we’d left off, but with this added intensity, like we were discovering each other all over again. And for some reason, it felt fast, like we were diving headfirst into something neither of us fully understood yet.
I pondered with the thought of asking him if he was seeing someone else, was this just a casual thing he does with girls or was there potential with this? Before the words could leave my mouth, Chris’ phone started to buzz on the table.
I froze, my eyes darting to his phone screen. Chris picked it up so fast that I couldn’t see the caller name properly, only that their name began with V. The only name beginning with V that came to mind was Vanessa. God, please don’t let him be entertaining other girls.
But Chris quickly silenced the phone, his easy smile returning as if nothing had happened. “Sorry about that” he said, brushing it off. “Just work.”
I wanted to ask more, but something in his tone made me stop. Instead, I smiled back, but my mind was racing. Who was this V person? And what was this “work” he kept mentioning? God is he a sex worker now or something? I’m not trying to jump to conclusions or anything but I’d rather just know.
Still, as the night wore on, it was hard to deny the pull between us. We laughed, we teased, and every time our eyes met, it felt like something electric passed between us. By the time we finished dinner, I felt more connected to Chris than I had in years, maybe more than I ever had before.
Chris’ phone rang again and he grabbed it immediatly and stood up. “I’m so sorry I have to take this.”
As Chris walked outside to take the call, leaving me alone at the table, a knot tightened in my stomach. I stared down at my half empty drink, stirring it absentmindedly. What had I gotten myself into? The evening had started so well, easy conversation, genuine laughter, but now, the air felt heavy with something unspoken. There was an edge to Chris, a shadow of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, and the more I thought about it, the more uneasy I became.
When he returned, his expression was tense, his smile forced. I could see it in the way his shoulders hunched, the way his jaw tightened as he approached the table. “I’m really sorry, Y/n” he said, his voice strained. “I have to go take care of something. It’s work related.”
My heart sank. This wasn’t the carefree Chris I’d reconnected with earlier in the night. There was something off, and it was glaringly obvious now. I nodded, trying to keep my tone neutral, though disappointment raged through me like a thick fog. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah” he replied quickly, too quickly, his eyes avoiding mine. “Just a bit of chaos. I’ll drop you home.”
The drive back felt like a far cry from the laughter and comfort we’d shared earlier. A thick silence filled the car, and every so often, I would steal a glance at him, hoping for some kind of explanation. But he kept his eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly. The lightheartedness, the connection from earlier, it was gone, replaced by an invisible wall between us.
I fiddled with the strap of my bag, my thoughts racing. Why wasn’t he telling me the truth? Whatever this “work” was, it had a hold on him, and for some reason, he didn���t think I could handle knowing what it was. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. If this was going to work – if we were going to be anything – I needed more than half truths.
When we finally pulled up outside my house, I was desperate for the night to end, but part of me didn’t want to leave things this way. I reached into my bag, fumbling for my keys, only to realise they weren’t there. “Oh shit” I muttered under my breath. “I forgot my key, on my way out.. The door just automatically locks behind me and my parents are out of town.”
Chris offered a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No problem. I can wait until you figure something out.”
I glanced over at him, searching for any sign of the man I’d spent the evening with, the one who had made me laugh, who had seemed so familiar. But all I saw now was someone distant, someone keeping secrets. “Actually” I said slowly, an idea sparking in my mind, “I can climb up to my balcony through the treehouse. It’s.. kind of a weird setup, but it works.”
Chris raised an eyebrow, a genuine laugh escaping his lips this time, the tension easing just a bit. “I’ve gotta see this.”
We walked around the side of the house, and I led him to the old treehouse.The previous owners had built it for their kids, and it connected perfectly to the balcony outside my bedroom. The wood creaked as I climbed, feeling like I was a kid all over again. When I reached the top, I looked down at Chris, who stood below, arms crossed, watching with a bemused expression.
“See?” I called down, forcing a smile. “Easy.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m impressed.”
I lingered for a moment, leaning against the railing, wanting to say more but unsure of what. “Goodnight, Chris,” I finally said, my voice soft.
“Goodnight, Y/n” he replied, his smile still faint but warmer than before. “I’ll text you.”
I nodded, turning away as I opened the door to my bedroom, thank god I’d a habit of keeping it unlocked, and into the safety of my room. The second I collapsed onto my bed, all the emotions I’d been hiding the last hour rushed to the surface. The excitement, the sparks from earlier, they were overshadowed by something darker now. That nagging feeling of disappointment sat heavy in my chest, pulling me down.
Chris was hiding something, something big. And as much as I wanted to ignore it, to brush off the unease gnawing at me, I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the truth, but I knew one thing for certain: if we were going to fall for each other, this secret, whatever it was, would be standing in our way. And I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
a/n: "freelance" is hilarious to me lol
taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa
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r0-boat · 10 months ago
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Birdie Bride
Sfw Yandere!Harpy! Larry x GN!reader
Cw: slight yandere, (no killing or harm towards reader just watching them and kidnapping)
Gendered nickname: Wife (Larry does not know anything about humans)
Author's notes: yandere Larry is easy mode. I see him being a very light yandere. The most he'll do is kidnap you really and stalk you, but that's about it. So, you people who don't really like yandere's for their overbearing and murdering nature I feel like you enjoy this one.
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Gentle claws brush against your cheek. Sharp jet-black eyes gaze down at you, taken in your unconscious form sprawled out in his nest. Curiosity took over the creature's mind as he tried to figure it out. Who or what are you? He had always watched you from afar his, his claws digging into the bark of a tree, watching you, studying you, a craving to satisfy a need to creep closer. 
Now that he had found you unconscious in that weird, thin hide cage. Larry could finally fully drink you in, cause gently prodding your hair and pawing at each strand to find out a single feather; at the same time, his own talons graze through his own black and white hair as if he was comparing mammalian hair to his mixed concoction of human hair and avian feathers.
He wasn't done. However, his claws gently grazed against your skin down your arm as if meticulously looking for a single feather on your skin.
You were not a harpy, it was evident, not a single feather on you. Your Talons were dull and flat, and when he gently pressed his thumb against your lip to inspect your teeth you had no Sharp things to rip and tear through meat, feeling your soft fleshy lips in the process.
You were not a harpy, but he can't deny the Primitive feeling he felt when he caught a whiff of your scent, even now as he pressed his nose against the nape of your neck, his black and white wings puffed up, his eyes open and softened.
Intoxicating.
If not, mate, then why is his body reacting this way? Why is his heart pounding in his chest? His face flushed with heat, instinctually letting out a low-throated cooing noise. He wanted more. Larry wasn't sure what he wanted, but he knew he wanted more: no more light touches with his fingers to inspect you. He tried to place his hand against your stomach, almost hypnotized by how it moved up and down as you breathed calmly. Despite his eagerness to be close to his mate, his hand approached you slowly and carefully.
Only to flinch away when you stir in his nest, tossing in the soft straw pillows and blankets. Keeping his distance but quietly observing as you slowly awaken from your slumber, expecting to wake up in your tent only to realize that your hand grazes through a straw immediately. Your heart quickens the fog of sleepiness immediately lifting as you bolt awake, scaring the figure next to you. Black wings flap as he jumps back, startled by your sudden movement, only to crawl toward you slowly.
That's when you finally saw your kidnapper. Jet black eyes matching with his feathers, with with what you see patches of graying feather. Even as he crawled, it was clear that he could easily tower over you. You were unable to speak due to your circumstances, and you're being riddled with anxiety and fear of just being kidnapped while unconsciously thinking that it's just a bad dream. Your palms were sweaty legs and arms shaking. You are not on the ground anymore, your eyes looking down a high drop. 
Larry notices your eyes filled with fear. His voice is low, husky, yet gentle.
"Do not be scared, wife. I will not hurt you,"
Out of everything that was happening, that one little nickname robbed your attention away, finally getting you able to speak.
"W-wait what did you just call me?" Your voice cracked fear still in your system as you try to scoot a little away as the big birdman urges you closer to his body.
"This is what human males call their mates, is it not?"
His knowledge of humans is highly lacking. However, getting him to change his mind on the little pet name he gave you seems complicated. But you had better things to worry about, like getting out of this nest and away from him.
" you do not have wings, wife; please stay away from the edge."
Larry cooed, still using that softer voice. You pull your arms closer to your body, or fists clenched as your whole body tenses up. His black wings brush against your side and closing you against his chest.
Almost in his lap, your body was pressed against him, a firm hand against your back, and his wing wrapped around you. You feel his nose nestle against your forehead.
Even though you've been kidnapped, things could have been worse. This bird guy doesn't seem like he wants to hurt you. You can't help but feel your heart fluttered by his voice when he calls you that little nickname. Even though he's technically wrong, it doesn't feel bad. Holding you against his chest like this feels kind of nice; it is better than killing you. Hopefully, you can convince him to let you go. Unbeknownst to you, Larry plans to keep you for a very long time.
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alienpossession · 5 months ago
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Mode of Infiltration: Consumables
Eating and drinking are part of daily human activities. You cannot just suddenly decided to not eat. Well....you can, but you cannot do that forever. You have to eat and drink, whether it's home-made, to-go from a quick fast-food chain or some local diner and even fancy restaurant. That's just the reality
So, it is very convenient for these extraterrestrial being to slip itself in between human daily intake.
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They simply played the long game, waiting for the unaware human to consume them instead without knowing that something sinister is already hiding inside their carton of milk, crawling inside their salad bowl, mixed in with the pancake batter previously made by infected individuals or tub of protein powder already tainted with extraterrestrial being that can break themselves down into tiny particles that finely integrated itself with the powder.
The possibilities are endless, which means human are very vulnerable from all angles when it comes to this mode of infiltration and the alien tend to be very swift at adapting to their human vessels, even smoothly stepping up to the role the real one left behind
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And with these kinds of infiltration, it usually leads to a domino effect of widespread infiltration as the alien merged themselves into a whole batch of cooking or worse, an entire diner, and even worse than that, a whole production line.
For a simple case, Rodney here just prepared himself for a packed day filled with gym sesh and his overtime work session in the office. Clearly he needs breakfast, so his girlfriend for 3 years, Nikki, stepped into the kitchen and prepared something simple.
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Several spoonful of omelette with a rather weird taste made by Rodney's lovely girlfriend to fuel his day suddenly choked him to the point of asphyxiation. Turns out, she didn't just made it with love, but also with fine dusting of black speck which already infected her brain when she went out with her girls for some brunch in the up-and-coming yet-infected local joint.
Rodney would be gasping for breath, fighting for his life, but his partner just smiled eerily at him instead of calling 9-1-1, waiting for "her" friend to take control of his body
In other cases, Cal might noticed that something is wrong with his protein powder once he tasted it. But, it's a little too late to reverse anything as instead of opening his mouth to spit out the shake, the alien that blended into the protein powder froze his lips and forced its way into his throat and nose.
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Unable to scream for help, he can only endure his fate as he can sense the invading presence crawling to his brain. Mere minutes later, he's excitedly make another batch of protein shakes that he will give to his fellow gym-mate.
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The closest mate, Jack, literally waited for Cal in the backyard and supposedly witnessed the whole ordeal. Yet Jack is a little bit distracted with the sultry chat from his girlfriend, his eyes focused to his phone instead to his flailing friend. Needless to say, when Cal offered his shake to Jack while trying to hide his mischievous smirk, the thirsty Jack eagerly accepted the offer and chugged the whole drink, his body instantly convulsed in the process as he managed to slightly opened his mouth to scream for help only for his hand already taken over by the alien to betray him as it dunked out more liquid as more of the infiltrator literally filled his mouth and throat to the brim. When the alien seized full bodily control, Jack smirked back at Cal as both of them eyed to go back to the gym and infect any unlucky attendant that they can take control
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As it turns out, the whole batch of the powder is infected because one of the product mixer, a chemist, created the formulation with a whole colony of slimy alien from outer space mixed in to the other ingredients as part of the base formula of the eventual powder. He was taken over during his hiking trip and from then on, his goal is to just simply ensured the readiness of the new settlement for his species. And lucky for it, the young hunk worked for a company that certainly can help his new extraterrestrial friends to blend into human society. After all, not like anyone would expect a surprise from inside their sealed protein powder......
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gods-perfect-idiots · 1 month ago
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Y'all have been so kind and welcoming of my half-baked concepts and unpolished doodles - it has been an uphill battle to fight my own self-judgment and just post my stuff! Anyway, here's another one - this time with more ~spicy memories~ (aka trauma).
The premise for this one: I was thinking about how Logan/Worst Wolverine probably hasn't slept next to someone in years, and how that is partially because he is likely prone to nightmares/sleep terrors and probably gets suddenly violent while still half or fully unconscious - maybe reliving past conflicts, maybe lashing out against his demons, maybe just unprocessed grief and rage coursing through his system when he's sober and has his guard down in sleep.
Here, I imagined him not only getting violent, but also screaming and crying while in this somnabulant state, half-waking in a sudden frenzy of fear and anger, and in the process flipping over on top of Wade and rapidly stabbing him multiple times, through the head and the gut.
Regenerative healing and quick reflexes notwithstanding, I think Wade would be taken aback to be awoken to that kind of sudden attack (not least because I think he sleeps better next to Logan - less jumpy and more restful with his big boy next to him y'know?). But his first thought, even with all six of Logan's claws embedded in his flesh, and horny hallucinations galloping through his skewered brain, would be to comfort Logan and try to bring him back to himself, even while his body and mind struggle to catch up to what's happening.
Continued ramblings and details under the cut lol.
I imagine Logan snapping fully awake and being utterly inconsolable, just collapsing and sobbing uncontrollably onto Wade's chest, blubbering nearly incomprehensibly (a lot of hoarse "I'm sorry"s and "Oh God oh fuck"s) while Wade heals and tries to soothe him with one hand combing through his hair and the other gently stroking up and down his back, trying to make jokes that simply don't reach Logan's grief-stricken psyche.
"It's okay, Peanut, no need to apologize, I'm good already see? That healing factor coming in clutch yet again haha. You do owe me a new mattress though, Mr. Scissorhands - you know how head wounds bleed like a fire hydrant, those pesky blood vessels amiright? Though fully half of all of my blood is a bit further south currently ifyouknowwhatimean... did I ever tell you about the weird response when I get Le Brain Stabbed? I didn't mention it in the Odyssey because, well, heat of the moment and all that, didn't want to stop for an expositional lore drop y'know? Anyway, point is, I get like, *diabolically* horny and hallucinate little cartoon characters to boot, it's pretty wacky tee bee aitch but does take the sting out of a surprise lobotomy so that's something... hey, you still with me, beautiful? Shhh sweetheart, it's okay, you're okay, just let it out, everything's hunky dory peachy keen cupcake unicorn rainbow blowjobs as far as the eye can see, darling honey kitty babycakes..."
But no matter what he says, jokes or not, Logan is just completely unreachable for a while; he just keeps crying and crying into his chest, like he's letting out 200 years of grief and confusion and loneliness and fear all in one fell swoop, his tears mixing with Wade's blood until Wade starts to worry he's getting dehydrated (ever since the time ripper Wade has made it his personal mission to Rehydrate That Old Man - the abs were undoubtedly impressive to behold but also a mark of a deeply desaturated body, and Wade keeps energy drinks and water bottles everywhere now, forcing Logan to drink every chance he gets. Sure, Logan's abs are less defined now, but Wade thinks he's practically started glowing - probably from all the nutrients and hydration, and the constant physical affirmations and calm daily routine probably helps too).
The crying isn't even really about Wade - Logan knows Wade is alive and well, but years of being petrified of hurting anyone he loves, and despite that crippling fear haunting him all his life he still failed to save anyone in his universe, and in fact, not only failed to save them but destroyed their memory by turning around and letting his feelings take over and turn him into (to him) an irredeemable monster, slaughtering anyone who crossed his path until he collapsed from exhaustion. And that haunts him even more, the innocent people he massacred in his supposedly righteous fury... he can't think straight amid the turmoil and all he can do is cling to Wade and cry and cry and cry until eventually he passes out again into a deep dreamless sleep.
It's not the last nightmare he has by any means, or the last time he wakes Wade up with his claws in a frenzied state, but Wade makes a mental note to be prepared so he can wake Logan up from his next half-awake nightmare with something pleasurable instead of painful. (Wade - in a rare moment of self-restraint - doesn't dwell on the whole "brain skewering = horny hallucinations" but he is absolutely BRICKED UP about it and the next couple of times he jerks it, all he can think about is fucking that old man silly until he can't even remember his own name much less the centuries of trauma).
(Spoiler: it works, and over time Logan's nightmares become gradually less debilitating and violent as he starts to associate them with - ahem - more positive feelings and maybe - *maybe* - forgive himself and start to imagine a life where he can be redeemed, can be treated like a good person, can be beloved and cherished and maybe even for a moment feel like he deserves it).
.... sorry this turned into a whole thing but here ya go!
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hyukasmiles · 1 year ago
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frat boy txt who saw u from far away at a party and knew they had to have you
—Tomorrow x Together—
Description: This is just the older members. I will probs do Tae + Hyuka’s version
Fem Reader
Warnings: NSFW// virginity loss// unprotected sex// oral (f)// sex in public spaces// NOT PROOFREAD
•Yeonjun•
Frat Boy! Yeonjun is the WORST. And not in a funny way- no he’s horrible. The type to haze freshman pledges and dare drunk guys to jump off a five story building.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who sees you slip into his house party behind your friends and pulls the first guy he can to the side, “I bet you a hundred dollars I’ll fuck her tonight.” The man laughs him off, telling him you’re a notorious prude. “You mean like she’s saving herself for marriage? Two hundred.”
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who slips his arm over your shoulder and gets to work. He spends the whole night complimenting you, handing you drink after drink, slowly dropping his hand down your body until it’s resting on your hips.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who gets you halfway to his room before you start to push back on him. “Hold on- I’m saving myself.” You pout.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who was prepared for this, pushing you up against the wall. “I thought we really hit it off babe… I was hoping to see you again after tonight… You don’t like me? Cause I like you.” He's saying so much to you and your brain is so fuzzy from all the drinks that you find yourself nodding along.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who beams at you as you mumble., “You really like me?” He nods and leans in to leave a soft peck on your lips. “Sure thing, angel.” You bite your lip and lean against the wall. “Ok.”
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who wastes no time getting you in his bed, slipping your dress down your body as he pushes you into his mattress.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who’s surprisingly loving. He kisses down your body, leaving little bites and hickeys in wake. You part your legs for him so easily and he fits in between them even easier.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who doesn’t think to prep you. “This is still ok?” And when you nod he lines himself up and sinks in with a groan. You suck in a breath at the stretch, eyes watering as you try your hardest not to whine. “You gotta relax, sweet thing.” He breaths while trying to shove the rest of him into your tight cunt.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who almost cums when he finally bottoms out, which is weird- he’s never been sensitive like this. You look up at him with doey eyes, a mix of excitement and fear knits your eyebrows together and leaves your mouth agape.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who fucks your goey cunt so good, makes you gush around him as he drills into you. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He breathes, lifting one of your legs up and resting it on his shoulder. “You’ll always compare guys to me after this right?” He leans in to kiss you on the cheek, stretching you open in the process. “I gotta be good then.”
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who does make you feel so good. He makes you feel- eyes roll back into your head, toes curling, drool slipping out of your mouth- good and you love it. And so does he.
Frat Boy! Yeonjun who cums inside of you because he knows you won’t tell him no, ready to go get his money and dump you off on one of your friends but then he takes a step back and looks at you sprawled out on his bed and part of him loves it. A large part.
•Soobin•
Frat Boy! Soobin who was just dumped and doesn’t want to be at this party because he knows his ex will be here, and he knows she’ll be all over some rando, and that she’ll make sure he sees her. But he comes any because the only thing worse than letting her do that is giving her the satisfaction of winning.
Frat Boy! Soobin who has a plan. He just needs to find some hot girl to attach to for the night, give his ex a taste of her own medicine, and when he sees you walk in he knows it’s going to be you. You’re perfect, way prettier than his ex and more importantly, her friend.
Frat Boy! Soobin who walks up to you, grabs you by the wrist, and pulls you into the less crowded backyard. “What are you doing, Soobin?” You laugh and the sound is so pretty he almost forgets what he’s trying to do. He can see his ex in his peripheral vision, sitting on one of his classmates' laps. “I need your help.” He mumbles, grabbing your hips and pulling you toward him. “You gotta act like you’re really into me.” He leaves a ghost of a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “My girlfriend broke up with me, I wanna make her jealous.”
Frat Boy! Soobin who’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck, sure you we're going to push him away by now. “She’s a major bitch.” You laugh, “Y’know what will really get her? Eat me out in the bathroom, I’ll make sure she sees.”
Frat Boy! Soobin who agrees to it. No questions asked. He actually pulls you toward the bathroom. He doesn’t care how you’re going to show her, he just wants it to happen.
Frat Boy! Soobin who pushes you against the wall tile and sinks to his knee. He pushes your skirt up your body and actually licks his lips when he sees the wet patch forming your underwear. He kisses your clit through the pink cotton and then slips them down to your knees, hard in his pants as he dives in.
Frat Boy! Soobin who is great at eating pussy, sucks on your clit and draws light circles on your opening. He has your legs shaking as you grab your phone, snapping a couple pictures of him and sending them off to his bitch of an ex. By the time they’re delivered your knees are starting to buckles. You twist to grab onto the sink next you, moaning as he laps at your cunt.
Frat Boy! Soobin who hears the bathroom door fling open, and his ex yelling at him but he can’t stop, he wants you to cum. He feels something hit his back and the door slams and all he does is grab onto your legs to keep you up right. Your thankful for the extra support, you cannot believe his ex broke up with someone this good at head.
Frat Boy! Soobin who sinks two fingers into you and whines when you pull at his hair in response. “You’re so good at this!” You whine, hunching over as he gets you closer and closer. “So good.”
Frat Boy! Soobin who whines at your words, sending shocks of pleasure up your body, finally pushing you over the edge. “She saw?” He mumbles, knowing the answer just not wanting to leave. “You’re sure?” He kisses your thigh when you nod, still out of breath.
Frat Boy! Soobin who moves to stand up but you push down on his head while he does. He looks up at you confused- but then you spread your legs a little wider and mumble “better we’re both sure.” and he’s back in your cunt before you can finish speaking.
•Beomgyu•
Frat Boy! Beomgyu who is loud and always doing something stupid. Unless of course you’re at the party, then he’s loud and glued to your side. “Hey baby.” He’s so excited to see you, wrapping you up in a hug. “Did you finish studying?” All his friends sigh and leave, knowing how this will end.
Frat Boy! Beomgyu who any other night would be taking bets on whether or not he can do a keg stand, but when you take time from studying to come to a party his whole world becomes about you. “Are you tired? Do you wanna leave?” He mumbles, kissing you softly. “I know you have that test tomorrow.” You just smile and pull him in for another kiss. “I’m ok, baby, I’m here to party, you don’t need to do all of this.” You say the same thing every time but he can’t help it.
Frat Boy! Beomgyu whose behavior is such a 180 that the freshman boys start asking him if he’s got a headache or something. “No, I just miss my girl.”
Frat Boy! Beomgyu who is usually the last person to leave parties, most of the time he stays over whatever pledges house it is, but when you’re stood in front of him looking so pretty all he wants to do is go back to your dorm and fuck you. He makes it well known too, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his hard on multiple times throughout the night.
Frat Boy! Beomgyu who can only wait so long, pulling you into a dark corner of the empty laundry room. “I gotta fuck you baby.” He whines, picking you up and setting you on the washer. “I know.” You reply, spreading your legs for him.
Frat Boy! Beomgyu who always fucks best like this, rushed and as quiet as possible, even if it’s impossible for him to be quiet. His thrusts are deep and strong, broken whines spilling out of your mouth as he plays with your puffy clit. He goes as far as to press a hand over your mouth even if he’s the one who’s making all the noise.
Frat Boy! Beomgyu who gives you a mind shattering orgasm and goes back to the party like nothing happened. Except now he’s pumped up, going back to being as loud as usual, grabbing the first person he sees and betting them he can shotgun a beer faster. All while you sit crumpled on the couch trying to ignore the cum dripping down your thigh.
—-
Inbox always open 🫶
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