#and then I got this idea again... and surprisingly the same thing happened

[daenerys-apolog1st]

My Thoughts on the Driftmark Situation

So, first of all, I feel like it's important to note in this situation that everyone involved in the initial fight was a CHILD---Luce was 4-5, Jace was 6-7, we can assume that Baela and Rhaena were of similar ages to them, and Aemond was 11-12. It's ridiculous to expect children, especially grieving children who just lost their mother, to act logically and with the same maturity/emotional intelligence as grown ass adults---children are children and they're going to react to things as such, which often means they're going to go with their gut reactions, which means they're going to make mistakes and stupid decisions.

Aemond, when claiming Vhagar, wasn't thinking at all about- "hey, Baela and Rhaena's mom just died and this was her dragon, it'd probably be a dick move to claim it on the NIGHT OF HER FUNERAL" -he was just thinking that he didn't have a dragon, here was a dragon, and he wanted it. His thoughts didn't extend to anyone else, anything else, or the fact that it was incredibly dangerous for him to be doing that.

Baela and Rhaena, when waking up Jace and Luce to go confront Aemond, were not thinking- "hey, it'd probably be unfair to go confront and/or fight Aemond for claiming Vhagar, and this is probably a situation we should talk to our parents/grandparents about" -they were thinking that their mother just died and someone just stole her dragon, one of the few things they have of her, which they wanted to try and let Rhaena claim since she didn't have one. Their thoughts didn't extend to whether or not confronting Aemond was a bad idea, just that they were angry and upset.

Jace and Luce, when woken up, weren't thinking- "hey, we should go get a trusted adult to help us figure this out" -they were thinking that Baela and Rhaena were angry and upset, that they needed help, so they went to help them. Furthermore, in the fight, Luce wasn't thinking- "ah yes, I want to cut out Aemond's eye as punishment and because I'm an asshole" -he was thinking that Aemond was threatening his brother's life, he was scared, and he needed to protect him---he didn't aim for his eye on purpose, it was a gut move done to try and protect his brother and it just so happened to hit his eye.

Again, these were CHILDREN, they weren't thinking with the same level-headedness or maturity that we should expect from adults---everything that happened was an accident, and I place the blame firmly on the ADULTS in the situation.

Firstly, WHERE WERE THE KNIGHTS?

We know that Criston Cole was supposed to be on the night's watch, but clearly he wasn't doing his job if one of the king's sons can sneak out into the middle of nowhere and claim a dragon, the king's grandsons and his nieces can sneak out of the castle as well, and all five of them can get in a brawl.

Even excluding him, though, where were the other knights on watch? Seriously, where were they? None of it would've happened if they were doing their damn jobs, if I were Viserys I would've sent everyone who was supposed to be on watch to the Wall and found different knights to protect me and my blood because CLEARLY the guys I've got don't give a damn.

From there, though, I think that the other adults---mainly Alicent, but also Rhaenyra---handled things completely wrong.

Firstly, to everyone that says- "oh Viserys didn't care about Aemond getting hurt, he didn't do anything about it" -did y'all forget the part where he was livid and RAILING against the guards for allowing the fight to happen? For allowing "his blood" to get hurt? Him literally shouting at them at the top of his lungs asking what the fuck happened? That seems pretty angry to me.

Viserys, surprisingly, was like the only adult aside from Corlys and Rhaenys- (who were focused on making sure Baela and Rhaena were okay) -that actually handled the situation the way it should've been handled---which is definitely a shocker, considering how he usually handles things. Viserys blamed the ADULTS in the situation who allowed it to happen---what Team Green calls him "not caring/doing nothing" is him not being willing to carve out his 4-5 year old grandson's eye for an accident.

Which then brings me to everything else that happened.

Alicent was 100% in the wrong here.

Was it wrong for her to be angry and upset that her child was hurt? Absolutely not, I'd expect nothing less from a mother.

Was it wrong for her to go after a 4-5 year old with a knife? Yes, I don't even know why this is a discussion.

Alicent spent every day of her children's lives sewing hatred in them, insulting and mistreating Rhaenyra and her children, and spreading rumors that could get Rhaenyra and her children killed---yet somehow she's surprised when her children repeat what she's taught them and that gets them in trouble. Viserys told her to shut the fuck up about bastardy and backed up Rhaenyra's kids as legit- (which they were in every way that mattered, as detailed in my post here) -which should've been the end of it, but Alicent didn't shut up and she's shocked that Viserys is pissed that now she has their kids repeating her bullshit?

Viserys didn't yell at Aemond, like TG said he did, he asked him a question about who was spreading the bastard rumors. Furthermore, Rhaenyra didn't say Aemond should be tortured, she said "questioned sharply" in a defensive response to Alicent saying that they should take Luce's eye out---it wasn't a genuine want to harm Aemond, it was an attempt to get the attention off of Luce.

Even Aemond, who is literally the one injured here, tells Alicent to stop and that he doesn't care about his eye because he got a dragon out of it anyway---could he be lying? Sure, but even if he was it shows that he wanted Alicent to stop what she was doing, since we can assume that IF he was lying he was doing it to calm her down/end the situation.

Alicent is the one making things worse and escalating things here and, again, while I don't blame her for being angry and upset and protective, I DO blame her for trying to maim a toddler for something he didn't do on purpose and ONLY did because he thought his brother's life was in danger.

If she wanted to be pissed at someone she should've been pissed at Criston and the other knights who, again, were supposed to be watching those kids---the only reason any of this happened was because they weren't doing their damn jobs. Hell, she could've theoretically even directed her anger at Rhaenyra or Viserys or Corlys or ANY of the other adults in the room, but instead she directed her anger at a CHILD and wanted said child harmed to soothe her anger. That isn't excusable and I'm not going to pretend it is.

And two other things that not a lot of people mention before I move on:

1. Alicent was cruel towards the Velaryon family in this situation as well. Corlys and Rhaenys had just buried their DAUGHTER, Laenor had just buried his SISTER, and yet the first thing she does when someone asks where Laenor is is imply that he's not only having sex---of all things---but with LITTLE BOYS. She is a guest in the Velaryon household, yet she disrespects their son who is very obviously torn apart and grieving his sister, on THE NIGHT OF SAID SISTER'S FUNERAL. Like it's clear that she doesn't give a shit about decorum or kindness or whatever else her stans claim, she'll just take any chance to take a shot at Rhaenyra's loved ones.

And 2. people go on and on about how terrible a father Viserys was because he "yelled at Aemond" (aka asked him a question), but Alicent literally slapped, yelled at, and blamed Aegon for the situation when he was literally also a kid who shouldn't have been held responsible for something he didn't even know was going on! I don't think Viserys was a good father either, but at least hold Alicent to the same parenting standards if you're gonna use Driftmark as an example.

Moving on-

My main gripe with Rhaenyra in this situation is that she should've kept her mouth shut.

After Viserys handled the situation and, mostly, calmed everything down, making that- "thank you, father" -comment was a potshot and I personally think she did it because, after Alicent tormenting her for 10+ years, she wanted to throw it in her face that Viserys wouldn't just let her do ANYTHING she wanted---even if he did give her a lot of leeway. Still, whatever the reasons, Rhae should've just let it be and left with her kids instead of making that comment and intentionally antagonizing Alicent.

We don't know if Alicent would've tried to maim Luce if Rhaenyra didn't make the comment, I personally could see it go either way, but Rhaenyra making that comment ENSURED that Alicent went for the knife. Maybe Rhaenyra didn't know exactly what Alicent would do, but I find it hard to believe that Rhaenyra didn't think she'd do SOMETHING in retaliation. Again, Rhaenyra should've just kept quiet.

Afterwards, though, when Alicent goes for Luce and starts making her speech, I am again on Rhaenyra's side.

Alicent says that she has done nothing but uphold the realm and the family, and that she has sacrificed everything to do so---which, frankly, isn't true. While I 100% sympathize with her situation when she was younger, especially given that she was essentially pimped out to an old man by her father, Alicent is a grown woman by this time and her actions as an ADULT have only been petty, cruel, and led them down a path to war and suffering.

Alicent has done nothing but split their family apart---from tormenting Rhaenyra and her family for 10+ years, to spreading the bastard rumors, spitting in the face of Rhaenyra's every attempt to make peace, publically humiliating Rhaenyra several times, filling Aegon and Aemond's heads with hate for their family, plotting to usurp Rhaenyra's throne, insulting her family behind their backs, and on and on. THAT'S NOT UPHOLDING THE FAMILY!

And upholding the Realm? Alicent has been plotting with Otto for years at that point to usurp Rhaenyra and put Aegon on the throne, and she's known about Otto's plans for even longer than that, KNOWING that usurping the throne will likely lead to war---something that will make the realm suffer in far more ways than one, and something that never really ends well. Again, that's not upholding the Realm, that's fucking it over.

And Alicent asking- "where is duty? where is sacrifice?" -is about her essentially being angry and hateful that Rhaenyra didn't lay down and suffer beside her, that Rhaenyra managed to find happiness in a patriarchal society and didn't bow to the whims of men, she fought and refused to accept the unfairness---she believed that she deserved more than to just be a wife or a broodmare, and she reached for it.

Alicent didn't find happiness in her situation and didn't reach for any sort of freedom for herself, and so she was essentially left with nothing. That is what she's mad about, that she did "everything right" and is still unhappy but Rhaenyra did what was expected of her, albeit in unconventional manners and---to Alicent---the "wrong way," and found happiness. Alicent wanted Rhaenyra to suffer WITH her, not to find happiness and some level of freedom within her confines.

Alicent is jealous of her and wants to tear her down, and because of that she doesn't see all the sacrifices that Rhaenyra DID make and also doesn't see that she could make the system work for her as well if only she'd TRY.

Rhaenyra was forcefully married to a man she didn't want, Rhaenyra lost her best friend as well as her lover in the same night and had to find her footing when there was no one she could trust, Rhaenyra overcame her debilitating fear of childbirth to provide the Realm with heirs, she and Laenor---who both did not like each other in that way, and Laenor was GAY---did try to have kids but it's implied that he's infertile so she also slept with a man she didn't want to try and do her duty, she put up with Alicent's rumors and torment and public humiliation, she even tried to make peace with Alicent despite EVERYTHING and bring the family together.

Rhaenyra did make sacrifices and did try to uphold the family and do her duty to the realm, but Alicent couldn't see that.

Alicent herself was queen, she didn't have to bow to the whims of the society she was in---she could've bent the rules a little, she could've accepted Rhaenyra's attempts at peace and tried to rebuild their relationship, she could've shut her father's conspiracies down and not allowed him to control her, she could've done the same to Larys, she could've tried to find love or---at the very least---a little peace in her life, she could've let Rhaenyra ascend the throne and BE the good queen she believed she would've been, she could've let Aegon and Aemond and Helaena live their lives in peace instead of war.

She didn't have to bow to society's expectations, she had power, she could've done that and it would've been fine! Good, even! But she couldn't see that either.

Alicent's prison was one that, after a certain point, she built herself---and she had the key to get out but wouldn't use it. Instead, she threw it out the window and blamed Rhaenyra for not doing the same. That's what that whole speech was about, not anything that Rhaenyra had actually done, not the fight, not even Aemond's eye. It was about her jealousy.

Rhaenyra's response is a culmination of all the abuse that she's suffered at Alicent's hands over the past decade coming to light- "now they see you as you are" -now everyone sees what you really think, what you've been trying to hide, now I and everyone else know that the things you've done to me have been intentionally cruel and petty and you can't hide that behind excuses anymore. You don't care about "the family" or the realm or honor or bastardy or duty or sacrifice or right or wrong, all you care about is having me suffer alongside you for the crime of fighting for more.

And, after all of that, Alicent injures the HEIR TO THE THRONE---queen or not, that's grounds for execution, especially given that Alicent is only apart of the ruling family by marriage. But we can assume that Viserys let it go because he loved Alicent and because he wanted the whole situation over and done with, he didn't want to deal with it because---again---it's that lack of backbone that keeps popping up with him.

Overall, I just think this whole situation could've been avoided if people had just done their fucking jobs and I think Team Green purposefully misrepresent what happens on Driftmark because 1. they want to be able to justify Aemond murdering Luce, even though it's not justifiable, 2. it actually shows Viserys caring about ALL of his family, including the Greens, and 3. it makes Alicent look bad.

But just as a general rule, how about we all stop blaming the kids, yeah?

[burningembers91]

Knock at the Door - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Loving You From Afar

The Shape of You

Family Unit

The Artist’s Muse

Breaking Eggs

Synopsis: While celebrating what should be a special occasion, a knock at the door changes everything.

A/N: typed on my phone so there may be errors

It was hot today, the sun beating down on you as you laid out the picnic blanket on the grass. Your blue sundress matched Na-Yeon’s, at the little girls insistence. She loved matching her clothes with you, always making sure you had the same colours on. It made feel grown up, and she’d already firmly decided that when she grew up, she wanted to be just like you. Her crotched strawberry hat had been replaced by a cotton daisy printed one and she sat cross legged on the grass as you set out lunch.

Park Gyeong-Seok couldn’t believe how much his life had changed over the last few months, still couldn’t quite believe that he got to wake up every day and live the dream he’d always wanted. As he slathered extra sun cream on his daughter’s arms and legs, you caught each other’s eyes, smiling. He tactfully tapped his shorts pocket, making sure the ring box was still tucked safely away.

He’d known he wanted to marry you for a while now, and with Na-Yeon’s cancer now stable, he had a little more money to play with. He’d found you the perfect ring, a simple silver band with a single pink zirconia gem set in the middle. It wasn’t anything fancy, but him and Na-Yeon had picked it together, and he hoped you’d realise how special it was. He’d sworn his daughter to secrecy, telling her he was going to ask you to be his wife, and then the three of you could be a proper family. He wasn’t entirely sure she understood completely, but she’d been surprisingly good at the keeping the secret.

“What are you smiling about?” You asked him, settling yourself down on the blanket. Gyeong-Seok had been acting strangely the last few days, a cheesey grin always plastered to his face.

“It’s just a really nice day,” he said, leaning forward to give you a kiss. He was going to wait until after you’d eaten to ask you, but could feel the nerves creeping up on him. He just wanted to hear you say yes.

“In fact,” he said, pulling Na-Yeon onto his lap, “I think Na-Yeon had something she wanted to ask you.”

He looked at his daughter, giving her the nod to say what they’d spent several days practicing.

“Will you marry my daddy?” She asked you, giggling as your jaw dropped.

“What?” You whispered, your hands clapped to your mouth. “Really?”

You’d never imagined this would happen, had never thought he’d be ready to marry again. His ex-wife had left him so heartbroken, and even though you’d never spoken about marriage, you’d always assumed he’d never be ready again.

“Really,” he Gyeong-Seok smiled, pulling the box from his pocket.

“I picked the ring!” Na-Yeon squealed, making sure you knew just how important a job she’d had.

“It’s perfect,” you smiled, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He slipped the ring on your finger, a perfect fit, and pulled you and his daughter into him.

“You have no idea how happy you make me,” he whispered into your hair, squeezing you into his chest.

You couldn’t stop looking at the ring as you ate lunch, the silver band and gem sparkling in the sun. It was so perfectly you, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You stared at it the whole way home, Na-Yeon gripping your hand, mesmerised by the way the light caught the pink stone.

You weren’t sure how you’d pay for a wedding, your finances already tight, but you’d marry Gyeong-Seok at a bus stop if you had to. You didn’t need anything fancy; you only needed him.

You were so blissfully wrapped in up the celebrations, so caught up in the love for your fiancé and his daughter, that you almost didn’t hear the doorbell go. You’d just gotteb Na-Yeon down, a struggle that required both you and Gyeong-Seok. She’d been determined to stay awake and celebrate with you, and very loudly rejected the idea of going to bed. She’d finally fallen asleep, through sheer exhaustion, and the two of you had snuck back into the living to open a bottle of wine.

“Are you expecting anyone?” You asked, pulling two wine glasses down from the shelf.

“No,” Gyeong-Seok shook his head, wondering if maybe your friends had arranged for flowers or something to be sent. News had travelled fast, and you’d already had a slew of phone calls and text messages congratulating you.

“You pour the wine, I’ll grab the door,” you smiled. “I bet the girls from the office have sent something.”

You pulled open the front door to find a woman standing in front of you.

“Can I help you?” You asked. She was a short, petite woman with sharp features and long, black hair. She didn’t return the smile you offered, peering around you into the apartment.

“I want to see my daughter,” she snapped, barely acknowledging you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I think you’ve got the wrong house.”

“No, I haven’t. Na-Yeon. I want to see Na-Yeon.”

Your blood ran cold, your hand gripping onto the door so hard your knuckles turned white. Gyeong-Seok couldn’t see the figure at the door, but he could tell by your stance that something wasn’t right.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, coming to stand next to you.

He saw the woman standing before him, the woman who had walked out of his life, leaving their daughter without a mother.

“Mi-Na?” He said, his voice no more than a strangled whisper.

This morning, Park Gyeong-Seok’s life had been perfect. And now, in one single second, it had all come crashing down around him once again.

[rosiesdisneydrama]

GF x Sky: Got That Magic Touch

AN: Ford doesn’t know that Stan is Non-Binary yet, so he just uses the same pronouns that he uses for himself while thinking about his sibling. They’re twins after all.

I wanted to touch on the idea of Ford learning Stan could do magic, but in a way that wasn’t directly confrontational. And could serve to let Ford ease his way into learning about Sky magic without making something go horribly wrong in order to make it happen.

So, Ford finds Stan’s reminder basin.

There was a water basin in the basement, with some little glowing paper crafts gently floating atop the water.

It had taken a while for Ford to notice it.

But, after hiding from his brother working on dismantling the portal for the past few days, he finally spotted it when taking a moment to stretch his legs.

He’d planned to look around the basement more, see what else Stanley had brought down over the years. It was… Cluttered, but in a Library Backroom way. Things were organized, if not very neatly. And he was curious about what his brother had decided to hide in the secret basement that may have also been used in Stan’s work on the portal. Or simply because he’d wanted to keep it from the nosy busybodies of town.

Give his mind a break from the portal itself and let it look over other things.

Like old science journals and textbooks or algebra studies or- well, anything else Stanley had found interesting enough to keep. Besides, if he was in the basement, then the children weren’t. And Stanley was protective of them, so keeping them out was a small way to make things less dangerous.

(He wasn’t hiding from Stanley after his brother had yelled at him. After the reality check his brother had forcibly given him. After being forced to realize how much he’d already lost before Stanley had even entered the picture. No, he was just… Reacquainting himself with the world before he properly rejoined it. That was all. It was fine.)

Then he’d noticed the soft orange glow out of the corner of his eye and found the basin and the rather cozy nook it was set up in.

There were three little crafts there. A boat, a lantern, and a crane. All of them glowing softly in the dim lighting of the basement. The boat and crane a soft orange and the lantern a gentle yellow. They were actually rather pleasant to look at. The side area they were set out in looked… meditative. The shallow basin they were floating in was sat on the floor, and there was a low table stacked with books and writing implements strewn out across it. Several cushions were on the floor, making it just comfortable enough to sit down.

There were a few more little papercrafts, all neatly flattened in a few shoe boxes on the opposite side of the basin from the desk. They were all yellow-orange paper, by the looks of them, but they weren’t glowing like the ones in the basin.

However, it was still very strange to see something like that. Had Stanley made them at some point? It didn’t seem like something his brother would have made. But, then again, Stanley himself was very different from what Ford had remembered. So perhaps they were normal even if Ford found them strange.

And he couldn’t help investigating anything he found strange. (Hopefully, Stanley wouldn’t be upset about him looking at them. Ford would be careful with them, nonetheless.)

At first, he had thought there was some kind of little light inside them that was making the soft light. But when he’d sat down and looked closer at the little crafts, he realized there wasn’t a tucked inside light that was making them glow. The paper itself was glowing.

How curious. Ford thought to himself, leaning forward to observe the crafts. They looked surprisingly sturdy, despite their make. He would have expected the paper to be coming apart by now, considering they were floating in water for (presumably) several days. Most papers would have been thoroughly waterlogged and losing their shape, but they almost looked new. Like they’d only just been placed in the water.

Perhaps Stanley had treated the bottoms of the paper with something that repelled the water? Wax of some kind would do the trick. Or perhaps they weren’t actually made of paper and were instead made of something else that simply looked like paper.

He gingerly picked up one, the boat, to examine it closer and see if he could tell what it was made from.  (A tiny boat that definitely felt like it was made of paper. If a very smooth type.) And a voice echoed in his mind.

Stanley’s voice echoed in his head.

“Ford fell through the broken Gate in the other room. I have to fix it so he can come home again. It might be his only way back. He wanted to keep it a secret, so no one that lives outside the Shack can know about the Gate.”

Ford gasped, nearly dropping the tiny boat.

How…? He looked down at the little boat with wide eyes. Stanley’s voice had sounded slightly different, younger almost, but he could still hear the sadness and determination that had colored his brother’s tone.

(The use of the word “gate”, while not a wrong term for the portal, was not quite correct either. Then again, a portal was a gateway so it was still a feasible word to use.)

Ford ran his fingers over the paper, trying to find some explanation for the voice. But all that happened was the voice replaying when his fingers tapped the sides of the boat. Like it was a snippet of something that Stanley had said to himself at some point that, somehow, the little boat had stored within itself.

Was the paper some kind of… Magical messaging spell? Some kind of magical paper Stanley had gotten and used to- Leave a reminder for himself? To remind himself of what happened to Ford and why he was working on the portal?

(He ignored the uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought.)

Ford slowly placed the boat back in the water, looking over the other floating origami as he did. Were all of them messages Stanley left for himself?

He reached out for the crane next, his curiosity too strong to ignore. (What else had Stanley felt was so important that he needed to have it written in magic to avoid forgetting it?)

”Do not trust the Blind Eye! Ignorance is only bliss until it gets you hurt or worse. No matter how much they think they’re “helping” by doing it. Memories are part of you, no one should ever take them away. Memory thieves are just as dangerous as the things they think they’re protecting you from.”

The pure anger in that message made Ford jump in surprise. But then the words sank in and sent a chill down his spine.

He vaguely remembered the Blind Eye. He had deduced they were a cult of some kind with an interest in his work before he’d gone through the portal. He hadn’t been able to figure out their reasons, however. If they were trying to help him or hinder him in stopping Bill’s plans. They had simply been just another bunch of figures that fed into his rampant paranoia at that time.

Stanley’s reminder seemed to imply that they had some way to remove someone’s memories… He called them “memory thieves” after all.

People with such power were not to be trusted. Such power was far too easy to abuse even if you had good intentions behind it. The longer time went on, the harder it was to justify what was actually helping and what would put people at more risk if they forgot about it. Forgetting dangerous things has a very high risk of only getting you hurt later on, as well. Because you would forget that there was danger in the first place and end up walking right into it without realizing it was something you needed to avoid.

(It was nice to know that there were things that he and Stanley could be in complete agreement about.)

It was a good thing that his world’s Fiddleford had destroyed his memory gun. He… Had destroyed it, right? Ford was fairly certain he had… Unless these people somehow stole another version of it or Fiddleford’s plans for it. Which was possible, though unlikely. His old assistant would have mentioned the break-in if it happened. They probably had a different method that let them take people’s memories. Possibly something from the area that they found that allowed them to perform something like that.

He made a mental note to look into it later. People like that were far more dangerous than even they realized. To themselves as much as to others.

(Fiddleford had likely moved back to California long ago. He doubted his old friend had been in danger of encountering those people. They had appeared after he’d quit the project, after all.)

He returned the crane to the water, tapping a finger against the lantern instead of trying to pick it up.

“I’ve been going insane trying to understand magic and why so much is different depending on who you ask. Finally gave in and made a book that has everything I know in it, just so I can find some through lines for the others. I put the Crown on the front of the first one to make it easier to find.”

 Now that had Ford’s interest.

His brother wrote a book? On magic? When did he learn any? Where had he learned it? It sounded like it was different from what he had studied, based on the comments about consistency.

Ford’s eyes trailed to the books stacked on and around the table beside him.

What were the chances that one of them was the book in question?

Considering that this was Stanley, fairly high. He turned to the books and started carefully searching through them. The note said something about a crown, but what did that mean? Did he just print a crown on the front?

Ford checked the front and back covers of every book. It was probably originally a blank cover, otherwise, Stan wouldn’t have been able to put an image of his own on it. So anything that already had writing there was automatically out. Along with any silly pictures on the front. There were a few nicer-looking books with patterns over the entire covers, but none with crowns.

 He paused at a book with a plain, dark blue-green cover. Some kind of fake leather and sturdy to the touch. But what caught his eye was the front.

There was a constellation pressed into the front, with light blue paint in the stars. He knew it was the constellation Cassiopeia. That was what every constellation map in the world labeled it as.

But… He had a memory of a freckled, gap-toothed little boy squinting up at the stars from the beach. Frowning as Ford read constellations from a book he’d borrowed from the library and they both tried to find them in the sky.

“Cassio-what? Why would anyone call it that?”

“It’s from a Greek myth! She was a queen who bragged too much and got punished for it.”

“Why would they put her in the stars if she did something bad? That’s dumb. It doesn’t look like a lady anyway.”

“Well, what do you think it looks like then?”

“Hmmm… I think it looks more like a crown!”

There had been several constellations like that. Cygnus was an umbrella or a parasol, Stanley insisted that Ursa Major was actually a manta ray, Gemini was a marker stone of some kind and several more. But at that moment, as Ford looked down at the book in his hands, he remembered that his brother saw Cassiopeia as a crown.

He opened the book to its first page, where there was a star shape of some kind carefully drawn and the words “The Magic of the Realms of the Sky” written over the top of the page. And, at the very bottom, in very small writing.

‘First Book, if I end up having to make more.’

Found it. And now it was time to start reading.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Stanley’s book seemed to be a mix of a beginner’s guide and an index of magic.

Which, while different than what Ford normally would have liked, was still educational in its own right.

Some things were explained, the how and some of the why, but others seemed more like a list of the magic that Stanley had, apparently, learned at some point in time. Trying to put everything he knew to paper so it could be referenced more easily at a later date.

(He wondered if Stanley had struggled with it as much as he had when he’d first tried to learn magic. It had been quite a hurdle over his years writing his second journal. There had been a few who’d questioned why he was learning their kind of magic but had moved on once he’d explained that he was a researcher.)

Much of this particular type of magic was done through gestures, movements, and steps that created an effect of some kind when performed. But there were a few that seemed to use a mix of materials to create paints and items that had effects that could either be stored or triggered at a later time. Much of them used stone or cloth as a base that was altered magically, and for many the trigger seemed to be either light from a castor or a fire.

He had seen some things about capes in the book that seemed almost more cultural than magical purposes. So perhaps part of the emphasis on certain things came from whatever culture that Stanley had learned this from and not simply a personal preference. Which was also very interesting but brought up questions of what the culture even was.

Stanley had a rather elaborate cape that Ford had spotted upstairs. It looked heavy, with some kind of scales layered on top of it. Perhaps the scales had some kind of spell woven into them? He would need to examine it to confirm that theory.

Maybe once Stanley had gone to bed, he could look it over…

The drawings that Stanley put in looked as though they’d been done with a brush, and were very simple. They were meant to convey actions step-by-step and not just depict what something should look like. But they were also very simple, borderline stick figures for many of them. Which, while informative, were a tad plain.

(Stanley used to be much more artistic… He had loved making comics when they were children. But, perhaps, his skills had grown rusty before he’d taken over Ford’s life.)

Interestingly, Ford noticed the references to the creatures from Shack. Mostly in the form of doodles in the corners of pages and a small section of the book Stanley had labeled as “calls”. He assumed it meant some kind of magic used through the voice, which seemed different from the verbal spells Ford had used before and had more limited effects from what he could tell.

(But that also held the interesting theory that these creatures may actually exist, somewhere in the world…)

One definitive effect seemed to be the ability to find other users of this particular brand of magic via a “call”. And not simply someone capable of that magic but an active practitioner of it. Assumedly, that meant that there was no active hostility or severe competitive streaks in them. Or that something had happened that required them to have a way to seek each other out. Perhaps they had been developed in the wake of a disaster of some kind?

“Deep Calls” allowed some form of divination magic as well, letting someone find the direction of a goal they were after no matter where or how far from it they were. Which sounded like it would be incredibly useful if one was lost or trying to find something important in a short span of time. Though there was a note about needing to know what it was you trying to find in the first place…

(He was tempted to try it himself, but there was a chance that doing so would alert Stanley to what he was doing right then. And he… Didn’t want his brother to yell at him again to meddle too much before he knew what he was dealing with yet.)

But… He could try one of the other spells listed. He had already learned some magic, so he knew a bit about how to make it work. Many of the spells seemed more cosmetic, or to help emphasize an emotion or state of mind. (Better communication of one's thoughts and feelings.)

One of the gestures perhaps? Something small and simple that wouldn’t cause any trouble. Perhaps the butterfly charming one?

He flipped back to the page showing and reread the small description for performing it. Then he set the open book on the table, rose to his feet and, with a small calming breath, slid into the stance. Pulling at the feeling he’d come to know from all his previous attempts at magic.

There was a moment when all he felt was the faint beating of his heart, and then there was a small flicker of light. And a single, golden-hued butterfly fluttered into existence and landed delicately on his outstretched hand.

Ford let out a small, wonder-filled breath at the little creature.

It was warm to the touch and cast a soft golden glow over his hand. And there was something almost… Childishly magical about having something like a butterfly land on one’s hand.

He couldn’t help the soft smile at the tiny animal as he slowly, carefully, brought it closer to himself.

This was a magic he’d never seen before. He would definitely try to learn more.

(Even though there was a whisper in his chest that said it wasn’t as alien to him as any other kind of magic he’d tried before.)

AN: Yay~ I’m finally freaking DONE with this one. I had another version that was more… Eh, more of Ford wallowing in guilt but I didn’t like it as much. Sure, making him come to terms with things is important, but I realize he’s not really the type to sit and wallow unless there was an active tragedy that preceded it.

Instead, the name of his emotional game is Avoidance. And also Snooping.

I wanted to touch more on Sky Magic for this, both how Stan was using it and how Ford would discover that his sibling could use it. I also wanted to hint at some smaller story/universe details. Little things that would almost sound like throw-away comments. Love to hear if you think you spotted them! ;-)

[pixlerelish]

🤍 Raees moodboard for @misha-69innit 🤍

[latin5mamii]

hate you

warnings: none, just cocky jude…

summary:You hate him, right?

genre: enemies to lovers

author's note:Sorry for the wait girls😔😔, hope you like it🙏🏻

You’ve always hated him. That stupid, little smirk, the way he carries himself like he’s God’s gift to football, so full of himself it makes you want to scream. The arrogance when he talks about his goals, his wins, like he’s the main character and everyone else is just background noise. God, he’s so irritating.

And yet, you can’t stop looking at him.

It’s infuriating, really. How can someone be both so attractive and so insufferable at the same time? You’d never admit that to yourself, of course. You hate him, with every cell in your body. Right?

It doesn’t help that Vinicius, bless him, keeps pushing you two together like some clueless matchmaker. 

“Come on, you just need to spend more time together!” he insists, completely oblivious to how you and Jude can’t be in the same room for five minutes without getting on each other’s nerves.

“Didn’t expect you to be here,” comes that annoyingly familiar voice, laced with just the right amount of smugness to make your blood boil.Jude,leaning casually against the wall like he’s the king of the place, holding a drink with that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

“Hi, what do you want?” you snap, barely hiding your irritation.You wanted to sound pacific but you know how that is…

Jude’s grin widens, clearly enjoying every second of annoying you. “Just thought I’d come and bother you, like always.” You can't help but notice his muscles through his shirt, you curse yourself for looking at them.

“I hate you,” you spit out, crossing your arms. You try to hold onto that anger, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you with that lazy, amused expression, like he’s got you all figured out.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Oh, really?” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost like he’s daring you.

“Yes, really,” you say, trying to sound as convinced as possible.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you push it down, refusing to let him see the effect he’s having on you. You look away hoping he'll leave you alone but before the banter can continue, Vinicius appears out of nowhere, throwing an arm around both of you with a grin that could light up the room. “There you are! See? You’re talking like friends already!”

“Friends,” you and Jude both mutter in unison, your voices dripping with sarcasm. You exchange a quick glance, and for a moment, there’s something almost playful in his eyes. It throws you off, makes you feel like you’re stumbling in a game you didn’t even realize you were playing.

"Maybe we'll become friends, who knows?"

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. 

“Ew, no,” you scoff, as if the very idea is something out of a nightmare. The thought of being friends with Jude (let alone anything more) is enough to make your skin crawl, maybe.

Vinicius just laughs. “You say that now, but I’m telling you, I can see it already.” He taps the side of his head like he’s some kind of psychic. “You two are gonna get together, break up, get back together, break up again, maybe three times at least. But trust me, in the end, you’ll be disgustingly happy.”

You’re about to fire back when you catch Jude shrugging casually, his expression surprisingly serious. “Yeah, probably true,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You whip your head around, blinking in disbelief. “What?” The word comes out more like a squeak than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Did he just agree with Vinicius? Jude? The guy who’s been nothing but an insufferable thorn in your side since the day you met?

Vinicius claps his hands, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, I’ll be there for the wedding, just so you know. Probably the only one who isn’t surprised when it happens.” He winks and then, as if he’s completed his matchmaking mission, strolls away, leaving you alone with Jude.

You stand there, arms still crossed, trying to process what just happened. “He’s lost his mind,” you mutter more to yourself than to Jude.

“Maybe,” Jude says, his voice annoyingly casual. “But he’s not completely wrong.”

You turn to glare at him, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me? You seriously think that?”

He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t know. You seem a bit obsessed with me. Can’t blame you though.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Obsessed? Please. I just can’t stand your face.”

Jude’s smirk widens, clearly entertained by your reaction. “Funny, because you keep staring at it. Not exactly convincing.”

You feel your cheeks burn. “I’m staring because I’m trying to figure out how someone can be so irritating and full of themselves.”

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” he says with a lazy grin, leaning in just a bit closer. “You know, maybe Vini’s right. We’ve got that whole ‘enemies to lovers’ thing going on.”

You narrow your eyes at him, determined to hold your ground. “I don’t think it will ever happen, fortunately.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “If you say so. But let’s be honest, this back and forth? It’s kinda fun, isn’t it?”

You open your mouth to argue, but you hesitate. Because deep down, you know he’s right. But admitting that would be giving him exactly what he wants, and there’s no way you’re doing that.

"Let me take you out one night” He says out of nowhere.

You blink, caught completely off guard by his sudden suggestion. “What?” Your voice is sharper than intended, laced with both surprise and suspicion.

Jude’s smirk doesn’t falter. In fact, it widens, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“You know, for Vini’s sake. Give him the peace of mind that his matchmaking finally worked.”

You cross your arms tighter, trying to hold onto your defiance. “We’re not gonna be friends, Jude.”Jude’s grin shifts, turning into something a little more mischievous, a little more intense. “You’re right,” he says, his voice lowering slightly as he steps closer, closing the gap between you. “We’re not gonna be just friends.”

[blqstar]

: ̗̀➛ K. BAKUGO | PERSIAN RUGS

» [summary] ── you get a phone call from your old best friend Bakugo and end up doing more than just catching up.

cw: (2.7k) x black fem reader, p in v, this is my first time writin a fic so bear with me if its not particularly the best😭 (would love constructive criticism though), swearing, not proofread ngl

Low, honey-colored lights finely lit the room as you look into the tavern. Sultry jazz music reverberates throughout the space, as people gather around the bar. Men and women dressed elegantly sit in the red leather booths, engaging in long, meaningless conversations. Glasses clink, drinks being passed around to the folks circling the lounge. You walked into the bar, the familiar sounds you haven’t heard in so long washing over you like a warm wave.

You never thought you would come back here despite all the memories you’ve had under this roof. However, an unexpected call from your phone ultimately led you right back here. Where you and your old best friend first met.

You vaguely remember him sitting in one of the booths by the bar, slightly drunk from the number of drinks he gulped down since he’d been there. It was a funny interaction, to be quite honest. You didn’t know how famous he was at the time but you recalled his spiky hair and his scarlet eyes and knew that he went to the same high school as you.

You sat down and tried to talk to him but he started blabbering on about himself and bragging about how he would be the #1 pro-hero in Japan. You knew him to always be like this, never fraying from his goals.

His name was Katsuki Bakugo. A man with a fiery temperament, undeniable strength, and fierce loyalty to all who were lucky to be his friends. And surprisingly, you were one of them. Honestly, the closest friend to him to say the least.

You had an unbreakable bond, a friendship forged in the fires of shared feelings and unyielding support. You both connected on such a deep level that the magnifying connection could never disappear.

You spent countless hours talking to each other, ranting about meaningless things. Late-night calls and conversations happened frequently between the two of you, staying up till the crack of dawn just to listen to each other’s voices and hear the stories that happened over the day during your time away from each other.

But little by little as time went by, those calls soon turned into texts, and later, texts turned into absolutely nothing. You knew Kats had a lot on his plate, quite aware that he was one of the most famous pro-heroes in Japan now. But it still hurt a little that he wasn’t texting or calling as much as he used to. It felt like you both were just drifting away from each other. Until a few hours ago, you got a phone call from him.

“Hey, Kats. What’s up?” Your heart thumped when you heard his voice, hearing him let out a slight sigh. You hear people talking and glasses clinking in the background before he speaks again. You sensed a feeling of anxiousness from him but you let it be, only curious about what he was calling you for at such a late hour.

“Hey. You busy right now by any chance?” You’re surprised by his question.

“No, not really. What’s up?”

You audibly hear him clear his throat. “I was thinking…remember that bar where we first met? The one where I was drunk as a lord?”

“Oh, of course. How could I forget, ‘future #1 pro-hero’?” You answer, letting out a little giggle. Katsuki grumbles quietly, “You know I didn’t mean to say that out loud—shut up! Anyway, I was thinking maybe you should come by.”

You gasp sarcastically. “Are you actually inviting me to hang out? This is new for you, Kats.”

Katsuki stutters slightly, sounding a bit flustered. “Don’t get any weird ideas! It’s just…I haven’t seen you in a while, and I figured it’d be nice to catch up.”

Your heart started to beat faster at his response, feeling your face getting warm to the touch. You can’t deny, you had feelings for the man but you could never tell him that. He already has lots of tasks to do. For him to pursue a relationship with you would be a one-in-a-million occurrence, especially with how much fame he’s gotten now. Nevertheless, you digress.

You give him a soft chuckle. “I’d love to catch up with you, Kats. What time should I be there?”

“Just…whenever. I’ll be here. Just don’t take forever, alright?” Katsuki replies, a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Okay, okay! I’ll be there soon. See you.”

…

You made your way to the bar, ordering a drink while glancing around. Your heart raced a little at the thought of seeing him again, your feelings for him rekindling like embers that had never truly died out. The last time you were together had been a welcome filled with unresolved feelings—now, here you were, not knowing if you were seeking to get a long-lasting friendship back or perhaps something more.

As if summoned by your thoughts, he appeared. Katsuki, with his signature spiky blonde hair and those fiery red eyes, looked just as intense as ever. Dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and jeans, he exuded confidence, but there was a softness in his gaze when he spotted you.

His eyes went from studying your face to looking at your body, looking at the orange dress you had on. The way it fits your curves so perfectly made his cheeks go red. You even had his color on too. He gulped and realized he was staring a little bit too long and his expression flickered to a genuine smile, disguising his admiration toward you.

"There you are, finally decided to show up, huh?" he said, crossing the space between you with that familiar swagger you remembered so well.

You chuckled, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach. "I couldn't resist the call of the infamous Katsuki Bakugo."

He scoffed, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Whatever. You just missed my last explosion. Would have impressed you."

You took a sip of your drink, feeling a rush of warmth as he leaned against the bar, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. "I've seen enough explosions for a lifetime, but it’s nice to see you again. How’ve you been?"

The conversation flowed naturally, with laughter and teasing remarks exchanged like old times. As the minutes turned into hours, the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared history. However, an undeniable tension started to hang in the air, thickening with every glance, every lingering touch.

As Katsuki continued to talk to you, he brushed his fingers against yours while he spoke, a spark igniting where he touched. Your heart raced with the accidental contact, the proximity between you becoming closer and closer.

This is when you take a really good look at your best friend. His fitted black top clings to his muscled frame, accentuating the curves of his biceps and the hard line of his shoulders. The fabric is cut just low enough to reveal a teasing hint of his toned abdomen, each subtle movement highlighting the power beneath his skin.

His voice fades out as you drool over his physique. Within seconds, you zone back in as he calls your name, eyes focused on his face now.

“S-sorry, what’d you say?” Katsuki stares at you, aware of your reverence for his body. He smiles slyly at you. He feels the tension as much as you do, his eyes in a haze as he starts to speak.

“Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “are you doing anything later?”

Your breath hitches. “Not at all. Why?”

His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “What do we say we get out of here? My place is nearby, and I…I don’t know, I just feel like talking somewhere a bit more private?”

Your pulse quickened at his invitation. You felt a thrill of excitement course through you and without thinking too much about it, you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

…

The air outside was cooler, the summer night alive with the sounds of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets. Katsuki led the way, his pace brisk and confident. You walked beside him, heart hammering as the anticipation built within you. What would happen next? Would the tension that had been brewing all night simmer over into something more?

When you arrived at his apartment, he opened the door with a casual ease, stepping aside to let you in. The space was cluttered but cozy, with a few mementos from his UA days scattered around, remnants of the determined hero you had known and admired.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, tossing his keys onto the small table by the door, then heading to grab something to drink. You took a moment to soak in the nostalgia before following him to the kitchen.

As you leaned against the counter, he poured a glass of wine and handed it to you, the heat of his presence growing palpable. You could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched you drink from the chalice, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you—a heavy, pregnant pause charged with unspoken desires.

“Katsuki…” you started, unsure of what to say or how to breach the growing tension.

“Just… let’s not pretend,” he interrupted, closing the distance between you, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “We both feel it. This is more than just catching up.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer, the heat radiating off him enveloping you.

You stare into his piercing orbs. There was a fierce intensity in his eyes as he searched yours for confirmation of your unspoken feelings.

“I know,” you replied softly, your heart racing. “I’ve always felt it.”

He moved even closer, pushing you against the counter. He shifts to the side of your face and puts his lips close to your ear.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” He whispers, his voice low and raspier than before. You press your legs together, warmth building up in your lower region.

“I-”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a fierce kiss, igniting a fire within you. His lips were warm, and demanding, sending sparks shooting through your veins. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Katsuki deepened the kiss, his hands roaming your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was everything you had imagined and more—intense, passionate, and primal. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the storm brewing inside you.

You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his spiky hair as he explores your mouth with his tongue.

Katsuki's hands roam down your body, cupping your breasts through your dress. He squeezes them gently, his thumbs brushing against your hardening nipples. You gasp at the contact, your hands moving down to grip his firm ass, pulling him against you.

"I want you," he growls against your mouth, his breath hot on your skin. "I've wanted you since the moment we met."

You look at him in surprise. You then smile against his lips, your body buzzing with desire. "Then what are you waiting for?" you whisper, biting his lower lip playfully.

Katsuki growls in response, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door open, laying you down gently on the soft bed. You watch as he strips off his shirt, your eyes roaming over his well-defined chest and abs. He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants, leaving him standing before you in nothing but his boxers.

You sit up, your hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. You slide it down slowly, revealing your curves inch by inch, enjoying the hungry look in Katsuki's eyes as he takes in the view. You slip the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your lacy red bra and panties.

Katsuki's eyes darken even further as he takes in your near-naked form. "So fucking beautiful, mama" he breathes, climbing onto the bed to join you. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss as his hands roam down your body. He cups your ass, squeezing it gently before hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs.

You shift, helping him remove your panties, your eyes never leaving his. Katsuki sits back on his heels, his gaze burning as he takes in the view of your wet pussy. "She’s so fucking pretty, ma," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You feel your face warm up at his compliment and nod, lust taking over you. He lowers and bites your inner thigh, licking at the mark afterward. A low moan bubbles in your throat when his tongue starts lapping at your entrance to your clit. “Fuck, Katsu.”

Your legs tremble as one hand pins your hips down to the bed, the other hand spreading your thighs to accommodate his broad shoulders. He eats you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. His plump lips wrap around your throbbing clit as he sucks harshly, making you keen.

You felt the knot in your stomach appear and before you could come undone, he stops and hoists his head up from your pussy. You whine at the loss of friction. Katsuki lifts his hips, sliding down his boxers, his hard length springing free. You bite your lip as you take in the sight of his thick, erect cock, your pussy growing more wet at the thought of feeling him inside you.

"Your turn to get comfortable," you purr, pushing him gently onto his back. You straddle his waist, your hands roaming over his broad chest. You lean down as you kiss him deeply. Katsuki groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as you begin to grind against him, your wet core brushing against his shaft.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, his head falling back as you continue to move against him. You reach between your bodies, guiding his cock to your entrance. You tease him, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit before sinking down slowly, impaling yourself on his length.

Katsuki hisses at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're so tight," he grunts, his eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the feeling of being encased in your warmth.

You bite your lip at the stretching sensation, slowly lifting yourself up and down on his cock, getting used to his size. Katsuki opens his eyes, watching you ride him with a hungry look. "That's it, fuck yourself on my cock," he growls, his hands gripping your ass, helping you move.

You moan, picking up the pace as you bounce on his lap. Your breasts bounce with each movement, your sensitive nipples grazing his chest with every downward motion. Katsuki sits up, his mouth latching onto one taut peak as he sucks and nibbles gently.

"Oh God, Katsuki!" you cry out, your head falling back as pleasure washes over you. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Katsuki smirks against your skin, speeding up his thrusts as he meets your movements. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, the wet sounds of his hips meeting filling the room. "You like that, huh?" he teases, his free hand moving down to rub your clit in circles.

"Yes! Oh yes, right there!" you cry out, your body trembling on the edge. "I'm so close, please don't stop!"

Katsuki growls, his mouth claiming yours in a passionate kiss as he increases the pressure on your clit. You cry out into his mouth as your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Katsuki continues to thrust into you through your climax, his own approaching fast.

"Cum for me, baby," he grunts, his eyes locked on yours. "Let me feel you tighten around my cock."

You whimper, your sensitive walls clenching around him as your orgasm continues to wash over you. Katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he reaches his own climax. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" he roars, his body tensing as he fills you with his hot release.

You collapse against him, both your bodies sticky with sweat as you try to catch your breath. Katsuki hugs you tight, pulling you into his embrace.

“Hey,” he starts. “Y’know I like you too, right?”

[mikanotes]

up close & personal

hyunsu ? x gn!reader

genre: what. mutual pining?

warnings: sweet home 2 spoilers, mentions of blood, injuries. hyunsu himself is a warning lowkey if u watched the last ep u probably get it… that’s all!

synopsis: You know Hyunsu so well. One year apart couldn’t possibly change that. Except if Hyunsu isn’t alone anymore.

authors note: realized at the end of this fic that i cld compare hyunsu’s current situation to venom like a little bit and that just makes everything so much easier somehow. anyways i don’t really like this but i needed to post smt for him after s2 so!

One year ago, you and Cha Hyunsu would’ve been sitting near the entrance of Green Home apartments, and he would be listening to you talk. One year ago, you would’ve firmly believed that by now, the world would’ve been restored to some kind of peace. It had, in a way, but certainly not in the one your past self would have hoped for. And certainly not the one Hyunsu would’ve wanted for the two of you.

Nevertheless, you remained grateful through everything— As much as you could manage. The shelter was as organized as possible and conflict was a surprisingly rare occurence. Things were alright. As long as you didn’t give time for the grief and terror to catch up to you.

But things couldn’t be calm forever. Especially not in the current state of your world.

When Eunyu disappeared with that man from the military, it only took a day before you grew restless enough to depart from the stadium. After all, Eunyu was the closest thing to a friend you had here, at this point. It only felt right to try and find her. And you did, surprisingly, along with a few familiar faces and an unknown one.

You didn’t expect for the evening you found your friend again to be the very same you would see the person you had considered closest to you at Green Home for the first time in… Over a year.

“Finally asleep.” you sighed quietly, watching Eunyu get the rest her body had probably been begging for. It was difficult to convince her you would stand watch and wait for your friend to wake up in her stead, but her exhaustion made her stop arguing eventually.

You turned towards the room he was in.

Cha Hyunsu.

You crossed your arms and sighed. One year without a single trace of him anywhere. And now he… Just reappears? You wanted to be surprised, but part of you really wasn’t. You were angry, just a little— Spending all this time telling yourself he was gone, only for him to come back as if nothing happened felt like a slap to the face. Still, you couldn’t blame him. Yet. You had no idea what happened to him during that time span.

You felt relieved, if anything.

After some hesitation, you walked over to the glass door. Your hand settled on the handle, pushing it open, before your eyes widened. Hyunsu was sitting on the hospital bed, stretching his neck quietly, not at all perturbed by anything. Hell, he even seemed peaceful.

More peaceful than you’d ever seen him.

You stepped inside quietly and let the door close behind you. Hyunsu continued to move his head, slowly, as if trying to relax, and didn’t acknowledge your presence. His shoulder was bloodstained, still, and his hoodie had cuts here and there. Messy as he appeared, this was your friend from Green Home, there was no denying it. You hadn’t even dared hope he could still be alive, after all this time. You couldn’t give your heart such a high possibility of suffering if he turned out to be gone.

And now he was here. So calm.

He opened his eyes with a soft sigh, before turning his gaze to you. “Finally decided to talk to me?” he asked. His tone was different. Too different. This did not feel like the kind of change that happened in a year. He smiled a little at your silence, tilting his head curiously. “No? Do you need more time? That would be too bad.”

He hopped off the bed with a huff and slowly walked over to you. The closer he got, the clearer it became that his eye color was different. Long gone was the blank, dark brown gaze that looked back at you when you two would talk— Replaced by a vibrant sky blue. A stark contrast from what you were used to, as was everything else about him, apparently. Be it his tone or his mannerisms, it all felt deeply wrong, like it wasn’t him at all. You furrowed your eyebrows but stood still, letting him walk to the very edge of your personal space.

“I’ve been waiting to see you for such a long while.”

“Huh?”

Hyunsu’s eyes widened a little before he grinned. This wasn’t … Him. Not exactly, at least. Not the one you talked to so much. But special-cases, or MH, essentially coexisted in one body. The monster forms around a person’s strongest desire, or whatever it was that scientist at the shelter said.

So perhaps, all the times you and Hyunsu had talked in the past had also been conversations that this side of him had been listening to.

A bit scary. You couldn’t really focus on that, though. You took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Is he well?”

He clicked his tongue, expression growing sour. “He’s fine. Let him get some rest. He’s tired.”

You nodded softly, gaze averting. That sounded fine enough to you. He was right, too, earlier— You had been avoiding talking to him since you met again. With the excuse of focusing on Yikyung and scavenging through the hospital, you had plenty of reasons to act as if you weren’t seeing the person you cared the most for after a whole entire year of thinking he was dead.

But you did feel his gaze on you the whole time. It was heavy, and remorseful. You’d planned to talk to him— In fact, that’s why you decided to come over to the room he was in. You hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, however. Seems like you couldn’t talk to your friend, yet.

“It’s nice to know you care, though.” he hummed, gaze never leaving your face. “He thinks about you so much, too.”

You looked back up at him. If this was the so-called monster part of Hyunsu, then what was his deal? A lot of questions about this situation flooded your head. “What are you playing at?”

He chuckled softly, before backing up just enough to hold up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Nothing as evil as you probably think.” he said, voice steady. “I just wanted us to talk. Just us.”

“Huh.”

“You see, your Hyunsu has an interest in you.” he said, tilting his head slowly. It felt as if he was analyzing you. It was a bit unsettling, but you didn’t bother breaking eye contact this time. “But I do, too. I’d say maybe… Even more than him?” his grin widened at his own words.

“I find it hard to believe you care about people.”

“And yet.” he scoffed, expression dropping to a blank one, seemingly annoyed. He dropped his arms to his sides and sighed. “We decided to work together. Couldn’t have him die on me, it wouldn’t be nice for anyone involved.”

You decided this Hyunsu seemed to mean it when he said they made a deal, just about as much as when he said he had an interest in you. So placing your trust in his bloodied hands for the time being, you tried to be less on guard. He wouldn’t kill you, or most importantly, Hyunsu. That was enough for now.

“Okay.” you sighed, crossing your arms. “So you want to talk?”

He smiled a little. “Yes.” he stated, before taking a step towards you. Only this time, he didn’t bother keeping a safe distance. His face was a touch too close to yours. “I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“You…” you paused for a moment, thinking. “Do you usually go around talking to people while getting so close to them?”

“I don’t go around talking to people.” he mocked your tone before scoffing, a grin pulling at his lips. He brought a hand up to your face, holding your cheek firmly. His focus turned to his hand, eyes narrowing in its direction. You felt his fingers loosen a little, as if he was trying to control how tightly he was holding you.

Which he was. Now it felt gentle. Almost unfitting. Not only that but the Hyunsu you knew was never this comfortable with anything close to physical affection. It felt so out of place.

“Does it bother you?” he whispered, eyes flitting over to meet yours again. He moved in closer, just enough for your noses to touch. He seemed to be having fun switching between looking at your eyes and at your lips. “Am I too close?”

Before you could think of a way to answer, you froze. The unfamiliar color in Hyunsu’s eyes dissipated, the cocky expression you were almost beginning to get used to replaced by a soft, almost startled one. His voice, much quieter now, whispered your name. Your eyes widened and you sighed in something akin to relief.

“Hyunsu.” you breathed out. The latter looked at you with a stunned look, struggling to find anything to say for a while. He looked into your eyes like he was making sure you were okay— Making sure you were really alive. His thumb moved back and forth softly over the skin of your cheek, his gaze scanning you in an almost panicked manner. He sighed shakily, before he brought your face into his shoulder. He seemed to be almost trembling.

“I’m sorry.” he exhaled, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders hesitantly. Still terrible at hugging. You’d missed those awkward displays of affection so much. “I… I’m sorry, it’s been… A very long time.”

“God, you’re so cruel, Cha Hyunsu.”

He tilted his head down into your neck. Now you felt his tears on your skin. He really hasn’t changed, you thought. It was obvious when he came running for help when Yikyung was badly injured, when he did everything to help her and went all the way to look for that kid— Cha Hyunsu hadn’t changed.

“I’m—”

“Quit apologizing.” you huffed, holding him tightly. “I missed you, too.”

Hyunsu sighed quietly, tightening his hold on you a little. He was relieved to finally have you with him again, but he couldn’t shake off his worries.

“You talked to… Him? Right?”

“I did.” you said, pulling away enough to look at him. The concern on his features was undeniable. “And it went fine. It’s okay.”

Hyunsu’s frown deepened. “I don’t know if it’s alright. Me staying… So close to you.”

“Don’t even think about disappearing on me again.” you warned, eyes widening. “I don’t care about any reason you give me— Don’t leave again.”

The boy sighed, averting his gaze for a moment, before slowly bringing it back to you.

“I won’t.” he assured, “I won’t leave you again.”

He closed his eyes and pulled you into another hug. He had to believe his existence on its own wouldn’t cause more problems for you to deal with. He had to trust that even if it did, you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. He knew you did. You always meant it.

He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the glass door just a bit further away. Seeing you in his arms should have been reassuring. But the blue hue of one of his eyes and the nagging voice in his head seemed to be laughing at his naivety. He pressed his eyes shut again and buried his face in your shoulder.

This is our priority, now. (I know.) No one else comes first. (I know.) Don’t let them get hurt.

I won’t.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Blossom. aka - Cherry, Part Four.

a night of conversations, kisses and long awaited confessions.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - cursing, kissing (but no real smut).

word count - 2.6k

authors note - the babies are back!! no smut in this one - it was getting too long. but don’t you worry… there’s gonna be so much smut in part five !! sorry for the cliffhanger. love u <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

The smoke from the bonfire is stinging your eyes, ash sticking to the strands of your hair. Orange embers burn rapidly, dry wood being occasionally thrown on top by drunk boys with red cups in their hands.

The music is way too loud for a forest party, but no one seems to care. Someone’s haphazardly strung lights between the trees, creating a surprisingly cosy ambience. The atmosphere is alive, charged with the electricity of being out later than curfew.

“M’lady!”

You laugh, accepting the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say as you curtsy sarcastically, making both of you laugh harder. “Hey, you didn’t bump into Steve on your way over here, did you? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”

The curly haired boy kicks the toe of your sneaker with his.

“Saw him with that Clara girl, talking by the lake.”

You take a steadying breath, pretending it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“You should go and check if he needs rescuing,” Eddie jokes. “God knows she can talk for hours without coming up for air.”

You smile at him, pulling at one of his curls.

“Good idea. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” he winks, pushing you in the right direction.

You saunter down towards the water, spotting your best friend instantly. He’s stood with his arms across his chest, weight on one hip as he tries to listen to whatever Clara has to say. The minute he sees you, his posture is straightening, lips quirking up at the corners.

Clara turns around to see what Steve is looking at, her face falling when she recognises you.

“Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt! Just wanted to check if you needed another drink, Stevie.”

The boy grins, beckoning you closer with a nod of his head. When you’re near enough, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, all affectionate and tender.

Oh.

You don’t do that.

The two of you have kept your romance completely behind closed doors, up until now. It hasn’t got a name, never mind a label, and you don’t need people asking questions when you don’t even know the answers yourself.

You could blame it on the alcohol, but you know Steve’s on his first drink. With your head spinning, you look up at him as if he is the sun and all things warm. He looks down at you the exact same way.

“I’m gonna go see where my friends are,” Clara says a little too loudly, strutting away with as much confidence as she can muster.

You have a sudden feeling that you’re the villain in her story, but you’re not entirely sure why.

“How many drinks have you had?” Steve asks as he pulls a strand of hair away from your face.

“This is my second. I was nursing my first one, Eddie says.”

The boy laughs, and you grab onto his bicep for support. The sound of it is enough to buckle your knees.

“This is my first. It’s not doing much for me.”

“You want something different? I’m sure Robin has that beer you like in her bag.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Don’t think I’m gonna drink any more tonight.”

Steve slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you in closer and keeping them there.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

And then he kisses you. Again. It’s slow and careful and so romantic that you think you might start crying about it.

“What time is it?” he asks when he pulls away as if nothing happened.

“Eleven thirty.”

“You wanna stay a bit longer?”

“Not if you don’t.”

Steve presses his lips to your forehead, hands cradling your cheeks.

“I kinda wanna go home.”

You smile at him, all soft and sweet.

“Then let’s go home. I’m getting a little cold, anyway. And I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Will you ever learn?” he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“If it means I have to stop wearing your jackets that I know you bring to parties just for me? No, I won’t.”

You weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but the way Steve chuckles soothes the sting of the accidental wound.

“Let’s go home, Cherry Baby.”

Home. The assumption that the two of you will always be returning to the same place makes your heart so full, you wonder how it doesn’t spill over.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You good?”

“Feet hurt.”

This happens every single time the two of you go to a party, so you feel as if you’re reliving a memory.

“Hop on.”

“Steve-”

“Cherry. Come on. We’ll get home quicker this way.”

You can’t argue with that. Steve crouches as you jump onto his back, his hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. You wrap your arms around his neck from behind, resting your head on top of his.

“Comfy back there?”

You hum, the noise of agreement enough for Steve to start walking.

The two of you chat each others ears off on the way home, talking about nothing and everything. You laugh so hard at something he says that you end up with a mouthful of his hair, which he in turn finds hilarious.

“Have you thought any more about what I said the other day?”

“You say a lot of things, Steven.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and giving your thighs a squeeze.

“About college.”

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s chosen the wrong time to have this conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay? When I’m not constantly worried I’m gonna accidentally trip and kill you.”

You nod, and he feels it. You know it needs to be a discussion sometime soon, but perhaps having it when you’re being carried down the street on your best friends back isn’t all that practical.

“Love you,” you mumble into the crook of Steve’s neck.

He shudders a little at your lips on his skin, leaning his head sideways to rest against yours.

“Love you, Cherry Pie. More than anything.”

You let Steve piggyback you all the way to his front door. Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you feel the need to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ��� 　　 *  · ✵

Steve bumps his hip into yours as you both brush your teeth, laughing at your shocked reflection in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you place your toothbrush back in its holder, right next to his.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hop up on the bathroom counter, sitting up so you’re eye to eye with the boy in front of you. He takes a step forward, standing between your legs as he splays his cold hands over your thighs.

“Why’d you ask?”

You trace over his fingers where they rest on your skin, quiet for a moment.

“You seemed pretty eager to go home tonight. It’s unlike you. You love a party. Leaving at eleven thirty is like… unheard of, for King Steve.”

“King Steve would rather be at home with you than at a party with all those people.”

“Really?”

“Really. Clara was going on about something or other, the music was too loud, and I could feel the chill coming in. It hit me, all of a sudden, that I’d rather be in bed. Or, anywhere else, as long as I was with you.”

You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, sighing when he starts playing with your hair gently.

“You’re a softie,” you mumble into his shirt. “And a mind reader.”

“It’s my one talent,” he chuckles. “I wish reading your mind was a college major. I’d be the best in the world.”

You shake your head, laughing like you can’t help it.

“If I don’t move soon, I’m gonna fall asleep on this bathroom counter.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” you tease as you hop down, “my legs actually do work.”

Steve gasps, all theatrical and exaggerated, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We’re not talking about stuff.”

You whisper it into the darkness, the trees rustling outside Steve’s window serving as the only sound you can hear.

“Hmm?”

Your legs are tangled with his, tired head resting on the boys shoulder as your sides are pressed together. You’re both lying on your backs, staring at the ceiling.

“We keep saying we’ll talk about stuff, but we haven’t been. It’s not like us.”

“You mean, like, feelings?”

“Yeah.”

All that can be heard now is two sets of heaving lungs. Steve’s hand finds yours under the duvet, fingers intertwining.

“Is there something specific that’s bothering you?”

“Not bothering me as such. I just… I think the more we don’t talk, the more complicated things become.”

There’s silence for a moment, before Steve speaks.

“I’m scared, Cherry.”

The tone of his voice is paper thin and vulnerable, and you will yourself not to cry about it.

“Of what, Stevie?”

You squeeze his hand, tucking yourself further into his side until there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“Of… everything changing. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know that what we’ve been doing isn’t typical… best friend stuff. I just…” he takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “I worry that something will happen and we’ll break up, and I’ll lose you forever.”

His voice cracks on the last word, fear seeping through his pores. Yet, he continues.

“I’d die without you, Cherry. I really would. I don’t know what it’s like to live in a world where we’re not… us.”

You turn onto your side to face him in the dark, reaching up to cradle his cheek softly. You rest your forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss into his skin.

“I’m scared too. I have been ever since that first night in my room. Not because I don’t trust you, or because I don’t feel that way about you… but because I don’t want to lose you either. More than anything, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why didn’t we talk about this sooner?” he laughs, throat thick with emotion.

“Because we’re us. And whether we talk or don’t talk, we know we’ll figure it out. We always know we’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. “More than all the stars in the sky.”

“I love you,” you whisper back. “More than all the grains of sand on all the beaches in the world.”

You press another kiss into his temple, letting your lips linger on his soft skin. He smells so familiar, so warm, so yours… you can’t help but inhale, chuckling when he shudders.

You continue to leave kisses across his jaw, over his ear, down his neck. He tilts his head to give you better access, groaning when you nip at his throat with your teeth, licking over the scrape to soothe him.

Steve pulls you in as if you weigh nothing, moving you so you’re lying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his lap, as he does the same so you’re chest to chest. Running his hands under your shirt and over the bare skin of your back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You look so pretty like this,” he hums against your lips. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You wanna talk about pretty?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “My pretty, pretty boy.”

Steve’s hips buck up into yours, making you giggle.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you pretty? Or do you just like it when I call you mine?”

His hips buck again as his cheeks flush pink.

“I am yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been.”

You thought you had the upper hand for a minute, but now you just want to cry. You’re overwhelmed by the way you feel about the boy underneath you, unsure of how to process it without bursting into tears.

“All mine,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your fingertip.

Steve takes a deep breath, watching your eyes as they look over him again and again, taking him in as if it’s the first time. He decides it’s now or never.

“Cherry?”

“Stevie?”

Your voices are low and careful, irregardless of the fact that you’re alone in the house.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops, and so does the world outside. Everything pauses, the two of you suspended in this moment in time.

Steve takes another breath, exhaling it carefully before meeting your eyes and continuing.

“You don’t have to say it back. Now, or ever. I just - I needed you to know.”

You blink back tears as you watch his face, biting your lip to stop them from falling.

“Steve-”

“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to say anything, babe. I know-”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just-”

You surge forward and kiss him with all the affection you can muster, trying to express your feelings. You grip his hair, plastering your bodies together where you sit in his lap still. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in as close as he can.

“If you let me talk,” you say when you pull away, all breathless, “you’d hear that I have something I’d like to say.”

Steve smiles, humming in acknowledgment and encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

The boy looks shocked to hear it, as if it’s news to him.

“What’s that face for?” you laugh.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to say it back.”

“Steve,” you chuckle, looking at him sternly. When you realise he’s being serious, you double down. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. When we were kids, and someone would say the word ‘husband’, I always pictured you. I was so convinced it was always going to end up being you and I.”

“Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He laughs, and the sound makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to yours, frantic like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He leans up to kiss you, all saccharine and honey sweet.

“Say it again,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Cherry.”

“Say it again.”

“I, Steve Harrington, declare that I am completely, utterly, ridiculously in love with this girl right here. I always have been. I always will be.”

You can’t help but throw your head back with laughter.

“And I love you. So much.”

The words you’ve always said mean so much more now. It’s a welcome change, one you never thought you’d see happen.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You lean in, nosing at his jaw as you murmur into his ear.

“Want you. So bad.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groans, all low and rough.

“Please. Want it to be you.”

Looking up at you with big eyes, he searches your face for any kind of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

Smoothing his hair away from his face, you trace your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m about to rock your world, Cherry Blossom.”

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @clairesjointshurt @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss @ladyburberry @thenonweeknd @abarelyexistentbeing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @slut4gaga @hopelessromanticwriter @mgchaser @wintrsoldrluvr

[satrs]

WICKED GAMES. @Gojo.satoru

SYNOPSIS; Satoru Gojo is your nemesis - vise versa. Or so you thought.

FEATURING; Virgin!Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

WK; 4k.

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! college au. richhhh Gojo. enemies to lovers. insulting. gojo hurts readers feelings with insults, vise versa. clothed grinding. unprotected sex. virginity loss. prn with plot.

"And who exactly invited you here?"

It's loud, thick air from the crowded space not too far away from where you're trying to escape the loud music blasting in your ear drums, head throbbing in pain, only to increase due to the annoying and unexpected - obstacle on your way to the restroom.

Your brows crinkle in irritation at the young man's question, flashing him a look of disgust. "That's none of your business." Your eyes drill holes into his skull, clicking your tongue at his attitude. "Can you move out the fucking way?", you ask rather rhetorical, irritated, you try to stomp past him, only to be hindered by his large frame hovering above you, his intimidating aura drowning out the loud chatting and music in the background, heart thumping in your chest as you struggle to hold eye contact, eyes flickering from his to the wall right beside you, gritting your teeth in annoyance.

He looks you up and down, tongue pocking the inside of his cheek. "It's my business since you're in my house."

You scoff, a sly smirk creeping its way up your lips. "Your house? If I'm not mistaken, Suguru lives here. Rings a bell? Geto Suguru, the host of this party? Also, the one who invited me here?"

"Suguru, Satoru, same shit. What's his is mine. So, again, what in Christ's name are you doing in my house?"

Your anger only grows, rumbling up a storm inside your stomach. Who the hell does he think he is? 'What's his is mine'? Fucking bullshit. "Look, I know that you two are friends-"

"Best friends", he interrupts, a vein on his forehead almost popping out of rage. Your patience is hanging onto a thing fucking threat at this point, playing out multiple ways to beat this bastard's ass up in your mind.

"The best of friends", you mock him, eyes closing for a second to regain your composer. "Whatever, I don't give a shit. Suguru and I also happened to be friends, and he invited me here. Out of kindness, I came." You pause, scanning his posture for any slight sign of comfort to make your escape, the idea soon turning into a cloud of smoke at his focused expression, his whole attention focused solely on you. "I've tried to avoid you all night. But you're stuck to my ass like a tick."

You make sure to spit out the last word, making sure he heard it loud and clear.

"I didn't ask who invited you, I asked why, the fuck, you are here."

"Now, I swear to God, Gojo. You better know what's best for you and get. Out. Of my way."

Satoru Gojo.

You hate the taste his name left in your mouth, and you hate the sight of him. That's why you refused to attend to this shitty frat party so many times. But your friend, who also happens to be Gojo's childhood buddy, begged and pleaded, until you eventually caved in.

You know how much this party means to him. Tying new connections to various people around the area, show of status, maybe even get a taste of some hot thing. All of that high top stuff.

You're not into that kind of lifestyle, showing off money and throwing it around as if it grew on trees, especially as a college student. Most students who attend this shit-show treat their academic success was careless and straight up foolish - running around to be a part of the 'high society' on the campus, while their tuition fees light up into red numbers.

One of the many reasons you hate Satoru Gojo is exactly that. His reputation. He is, how other students would say, part of the 'high society' - got his tuition fees covered by the wealth of his parents, grades never good, but after some sweet-talk with his professor, he surprisingly passes all of his classes with flying colors. One way or the other, he gets what he wants. He always does.

He is the definition of 'money can buy anything'.

But it's not the money alone, it's his attitude of his that just has you ball your hands into a fist.

Not one day goes past without him rubbing his wealth under everyone's noses. It didn't matter who it was, he was going to show them that he was better than them, richer, stronger.

He is the strongest.

Even though he never offended you directly, his distant glares and arrogant looks were enough for you to develop the hatred you have towards him. He always looked down on everyone he talked to, if they manage to even get him to pay attention to them, that is.

You really didn't want to even see him at this party, not attempting to ruin your mood with someone like him. So, you had to avoid him at all cost. In the end you figured, it wouldn't hurt to attend a party again, enjoying the company of others more than usual in your full-scheduled student life, escaping the never ending cycle for even just a little bit of fun. Also, the chance of running into him in such a massive house was slim. Until now.

You wish you could just kill him right here, that's how deep your hatred is seated. His feelings are mutual.

It's not like he ever paid attention to your presence, hell, he didn't even know you existed until you were all up in his business, always having a remark ready when he said anything to anyone. Yeah, he can be a bit mean at times, but it's nothing harsh, just jokes. They all know, for sure.

At first, he thought you're cute, and you still are, being honest. Gorgeous even. Maybe even the prettiest girl he's ever seen. But only if you keep that damned mouth of yours shut.

He can't stand your constant sense of justice, bugging him with issues someone like him could never even bother himself with. Babbling nonsense of 'fairness' and 'inequality' when he just supports the economy. Some, with some he means, you, see his actions as cruel but, if you were in his position, wouldn't you do the same?

Why can't you just mind your business and stop bothering him with your bullshit? It's not like your endless talking would change anything.

You're a nobody.

"Hello? Is your ass that stuffed of money that you can't follow simple instructions anymore? Get out of my way!"

Who does he think he is?

You scream into his face, blood rushing up your face as your anger pours out of you, all you see is red. If he doesn't move out the way at this instant, you're going to-

Who do you think you are?

He exhales a deep breath, scanning the area around you two before he swiftly takes a hold of your arm. You spit out curses at him, roughly trying to free yourself from his grasp, only to be dragged along until he rushes you into an empty room down the hall.

"Let go-!" And he does, pushing you into the empty guest room, closing the door right behind him. You swallow at the tension, the music only faint to notice, turning the room almost dead silent.

You stand, your ground, furrowed eyebrows indicating your mood. "You-!"

Before you can even think of an insult, he interrupts you in an instant, causing your body to tense up at his unusual dark tone. It's almost scary how his expression changes into something unreadable. "Shut the fuck up", he breathed out, head falling back as his hands brushes across his face, a long sigh leaving his lips while looking at the ceiling.

"Can you? Just be quiet for one second." And you did, exhaustion washing over your body as you look around the room, turning on your heels to look at anything but him.

"It's always people like you", he begins, eyes trailing after your movements, "always those nobodies who got their nose all up in my business. You're the one who's a tick on my ass." He begins to follow your footsteps to the bathroom, halting at the door to lean against the door frame, looking down at your body seated on the closed toilette, head in hands. "You're jealous."

Jealous? Not only jealous - you're green of envy.

He was born with everything and anything you could ask for. He already got his future set, like food on a platter. You on the other hand have to work hard, to pay for college, rent, and other necessities. And he? He gets money shoved up his butt every other week, not lifting a finger. And worst of all, he's not even grateful for his privileged life. Perhaps, that's also a big reason you hate him.

"I'm obsessed? Now tell me who exactly dragged me into this room!", You snap your head up, teeth gritting together, tears threatening to trickle down your face.

"You cryin'?" You try to wipe the tear off your face unnoticed, but it's already too late. He nears you, leaning down and looking at you with that look again.

As if you're nobody.

"Don't change the topic", you sniffle between tears, turning your face away from him so you don't have to see him looking down at you. But you still feel his eyes on you, an unreadable expression on his face as he inspects your form, an odd feeling bubbling up in his stomach.

Guilt?

He feels bad for you, he feels bad for making you feel this way. An apology tickles the tip of his tongue, but he closed his mouth before he dared to shatter his own ego.

"Fuck." He lets it slip out in a whisper, trying to think of possibilities to clear the confusion. Truth was, he looked for you around the whole house with the intention of making things right with you. Because he actually doesn't hate you how you think he would.

Suguru, his childhood best friend, knows how bad Satoru is with words, and how little to no remorse he has while talking to people, especially to girls. He also knows something else about Satoru, something that nobody, maybe not even himself, is aware of. That's the whole reason why he even invited you here. For the both of you to talk things out.

He planned it all out, pleading and begging you to come, and also loosing his pride in the process, up to the empty room, knowing that only Satoru would know what part of the house would be abandoned during a party, up to talking him into finally talk to you - without any bickering or insulting. An honest talk, just the two of you, nothing else.

"Look", he feels his heart sink into his stomach as he notices your attention is on him. "I-" He stops at the sight of your teary face, every part of his body telling him to just apologize properly, and just leave it be, or kiss it better.

What is he thinking?

"I just want this shit to end. Stop bothering me. Stop pocking around my business. Then we'll be good." Fucking dumbass. He facepalms himself mentally, eyes widening in shock at the sound of your soft giggle.

"Didn't anyone teach you how to apologize?" Looking up at your face again, he can see a faint but visible smile on your face and, thank God, what a relief.

"You know I won't say that."

"Why?"

"Because there is no reason to."

His posture stiffens at the sound of you getting up from the toilet. "Alright then. There's nothing to 'be good' then," You walk past him, back into the room, "I'll leave."

"Wait."

You can hear him entering the room. You smirk to yourself before turning around, ready to see his ego shattering down, and-

"I don't hate you, Y/N."

What?

The smirk quickly washed off your face, confusion replacing it. Was this some sort of joke?

"I'll explain it to you, just-" he sighs, swallowing his pride before continuing, "stay. Please." You're taken aback by his sudden change, the soft and pleading look on his face. He never looked anywhere near unappealing to you, it was just his attitude. But now?

You don't know what's gotten into you, but you feel like staying, like something will happen. Suddenly you're not angry anymore, you're calm, collected, but most of all, curious.

He sighs in relief as you halt your movements, slowly expecting him to continue. His feet drag to the bed, awkwardly sitting at the edge of it as his hand motions you to sit beside him, eyes looking up at you expectantly.

You hesitate at first, you want to turn back and get out, but something just keeps your feet moving, your eyes never leaving his face.

And when you sit beside him, you come to realize how handsome he is up close, observing his bright ocean blue eyes, searching for something you can't explain in them.

You snap back to reality, eyes now looking down at your fingers tapping at your thigh awkwardly. "So?", you whisper into the thin air, for no reason at all. Slowly you look up at him face again, and instead of an answer, you found what you were looking for.

His lips smash onto yours as your eyes widen before you sigh into the kiss in relief, leaning your head into the hand he held up at your cheek. You push right into him, softly crawling onto his lap while your hands tangle into his hair as you feel him shiver underneath you at the feeling of your clothed heat covering his groin.

Breaking the kiss to catch your both's breaths, you look at each other in pure bliss. You lose yourself in his angelic eyes as his flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, hoping - no, begging for you to catch on.

"I like you," he curses under his breath once your cunt sits right on his half-hard length, breathing turning ragged, "I really like you."

You catch onto his intention and breath out s light laugh, placing a quick kiss to his lips, causing him to chase after your lips right after, and you bite back a laugh right after. "I figured." Your lips are back on his as you begin to grind your hips against his in a needy manner, a soft moan being swallowed by his lips as his hands firmly hold onto your rear, setting a steady rhythm.

With every move of your hips, the tent in his pants only grows, his hands turn rougher with each friction of your clother cunt against his hard length.

Fuck, he might burst into his pants right now. You look so angelic above him, breaking from the kiss to carefully tearing the shirt from him so you could admire his fine build before softly pushing him onto the sheets, his white hair spread across the silk as his chest heaves with every further inch your delicate fingers took towards his groin with the intention of freeing his aching cock from his painfully tight boxers.

And you do just that, eyes sparkling in anticipation at the sight of his gorgeous cock, pre leaking from the tip as he hisses at the hit of cold air he feels against his head.

"Hah- I-", his head pushes back into the sheets, eyes closing while he lets out a soft whine once your hand contracts around his dick, thumb teasing his slit.

"You what? Cat caught your tongue?", you tease, your other hand occupied with lazily pushing your panties to the side, lifting your hips up, ready to aline his head to your entrance, damp folds eager to feel him inside of you.

He lifts his head up, looking at your exposed cunny right before him, his hand flying up to your hips, squeezing them to get you to halt your actions. "I never did this", he breathes out, cheeks turning into a faint tint of red at your dumbfounded expression. Your hips come back down to rest on his lap, biting your lip, aroused of the idea that you're his first. "Are you serious?" And with his nod, you feel your cunt pulsating in excitement, neck craning down to capture his lips again.

You lift your hips to rest on his exposed cock, wet cunt slowly gliding along his length. Your swollen clit catches onto his end, the both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hips speedily buck up into yours, urging you to slide his plumb tip into your entrance. The firm grip his hands have on your waist guaranteed a leaving impression on your skin - but you don't care.

Not right now, not like this- when you have him of all people imaginable underneath you, his hot breath tickling your nose while his eyes lusted over you, curious of your next move.

You smirk down at him, a breathy laugh escaping you as your hand sneaks down to take hold of his pulsating length, aligning it to your entrance.

And with your gummy walls enveloping his tip in a tight grip, every past lingering grudge flows out of the window. He swallows, hard, head tipping back in pleasure while you inch your hips down further and further, biting your lip to contain your moans.

If there's heaven, this is it. Yes, he had his fair share of make out sessions, girls soaking his fingers and he was no stranger to blowjobs. But this? This feeling, your soft walls hugging his cock so perfectly, as if your pussy was made for him, waiting for him.

"Ohhhhh, f-fuck!-" A strangled whine escapes his lips once you bottom out, sweat forming at his forehead. It feels like you're suffocating him, his breath gets caught in his lungs, his eyes threatening to move to the very back of his skull.

With his face scrunching up in pleasure, one hand leaves the bruising grip on your waist as he tries his best to get up on his elbow, mouth hanging wide open.

"Are you alright?", you breathe out, breathing turning rapid. You can feel each vein of his dick pulsating inside your soaking cunt, your hand brushing across his defined abdomen.

"More than alright", he scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing, now fully propped up against the headboard. His absent hand finds its way to your ass, squeezing it, a desperate gaze inspecting every inch of your body. "Please, move."

And you comply, bracing yourself on his shoulders as you begin a steady pace, breasts bouncing up his face with each movement of your hips.

"Fuckkkkkk, yesyesyes!", his mouth captured your neglected nipple, his wet muscle swiping across the bud whilst his occupied hand harshly squeezes your rear, fat spilling between the gaps of his slender fingers as he roughly moves your hips against his, the newfound rhythm causing him to let out a sob.

Each rut of your hips only makes his love for you grow even stronger, now that you took the most precious thing he claimed to be his as your own, he's sure that this is right. If he had any doubts before this, then it's certain that they now disappeared into the thin air. There's nothing but desperation and desire for you clouding his mind - he needs you, he needs to feel the comfort of your velvet walls, your moans against his lips, your skin against his - you, you you.

Your clit continuously brushes against his pelvic bone. "Mhmmm, right there", you whine, hands desperately clawing at his shoulders with your eyes squeezed shut.

It's almost embarrassing how fast you're threatening to near your release, considering that he was the virgin. On top of that, the he in question being Gojo Satoru. You hated-

Your eyes shoot open, back coming in contact with the silk sheets before you feel his mouth on yours again, his tongue prodding at your lip. "You feel so fucking good, baby", he mumbled against your lips, his hips speed up while his hands roam your body in such a longing manner. "Don't want anything but this", he lifts your leg up his shoulder, straightening his back as he felt a tightness in his stomach. "Nothing 's better but this perfect cunt. Love it so much, fuck- love you, I love you baby."

Wait, why did you hate him again?

You moan at his words, the confusing mist clearing up with each mesmerizing thrust of his hips, your eyes full of admiration when you view him leaving open mouth kisses against your ankle, his eyes never daring to leave yours.

"'m gonna cum, toru- fuckfuckfuck, yes! Don't stop pleaseee-" And with that, you fall into the tantalizing sea of pleasure, sucking your stomach in while reaching your hand to his hip in an attempt to stop him, the pleasure too much for you to bear.

A low groan leaves him at the sound of the nickname you gave him, hips unintentionally speeding up, sweat rolling down his chest. He feels like he's gonna bust any second now, his tip nudging your gummy spot with each stroke, taking the shaky hand on his stomach in his to reach it up to his lips and plant a quick kiss on it.

"A-atta, girl. Fuck, you're so goddamn pretty. Can't last much longer, baby." His glistening eyes look between your bodies, the movement of his hips flattering as he nears his release.

"Shiiiiit, never felt so good in my entire life. Wanna stay inside of you forever. T-think I'm gonna cum."

The sight of your spasming cunt spurting against his lower abdomen was enough for him to burst right inside your welcoming hole, one last drive of his hips following to dwell a little longer in the pleasure before pulling out of your hole.

His body slumps onto of yours, nuzzling his head into your neck. You let out a breathy giggle, still out of breath, as your hand reaches up to stroke his hair affectionately.

Soon, the both of your breathings calm down, silence drowning the room, no one daring to continue where you left off.

"You sure this was your first time?", you joke, earning a laugh from the young man. He lifts his head, eyes locking with yours. "I'm a natural, you know."

You hide your laugh while turning to the side. His eyes roam your face with pure affection, love struck from your wholehearted laugh and suddenly, he regrets every past resentment he had against you.

" You're so damn pretty", he whispers, causing you to turn and look at him, his eyes wandering aver your features. "I'm serious", he continues, in answer to your skeptical stare.

It was weird, seeing his usual distasteful expression being replaced by such an adoring gaze, tempting you to look into his ocean kissed eyes for all eternity.

Every past resentment you had against him long forgotten, the future the only thing occupying your mind now. If he's really serious, could you both-

"Let me make it up to you."

You snap out of your thoughts, perplexed by his words. Before you can say anything, he continues.

" Take you out on a date. A proper date. Apologize for real." He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth again, nervous about what was about to come.

"I was serious about earlier, you know. I really do like you. I'm just-" he breathes out, trying to find the right words.

"An asshole?", you answer for him, earning a quick laugh in return. "Yeah. A big one at that." he raises from his position, looking down at you, almost pleading for your approval. "Please, y/n. I'll do anything for you to make it up. Give this - us a chance."

You look up at him, a small smile on your face. "Please," he whispered again once you sit up, carefully taking your hand in his, eyes pleading for a response.

Once your hand reaches up for his cheek, stroking it lovingly while you place a fond kiss against his lips, he got the answer he always wanted.

"Okay, let's try."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[sinsolstice]

★ 彡 SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. ✧ MIGUEL O'HARA [ 1 ]

series ✮ it started with a crazy idea from miguel proposing to start the day of the week with a bang.

tags ✮  modern + roommates au. situationship with miguel and unspoken mutual pining. divider creds: cafekitsune. content warning ✮ explicit content, sexual intercourse, mutual masturbation, missionary, mating press unprotected sex. minors do not interact. wc ✮ 2,100

Miguel: Could you meet me in the living room when you return for a few minutes? There’s something I want to talk to you about.

That was the text message you received from Miguel in the car park whilst you were loading groceries in your car. 

He doesn’t elaborate anything further and it makes you curious all the way driving back, wondering what Miguel possibly wants to talk to you about. The two of you are housemates, sharing the same house for a good two years and a half. When you agree to occupy the empty he advertised for renting and sign a lease agreement, you sort of know what you’re getting yourself into. 

Miguel O’Hara is an attractive man and there are times when the attraction builds into temptation of lust. The side glances across the room, the proximity of skin brushing onto one another leaves a heated message. It was difficult to ignore the elephant in the room—the attraction and urge to have your hands exploring the contours of his body. And then it happened; hands hurriedly tried to strip and tear clothes to explore skin and warmth beneath it, as you and Miguel fumble the way into his bedroom for a long, pleasurable night. 

It doesn’t take long to figure out that you’re addicted to the way Miguel fucks you. But gods, no one does it like he does. You would feel empty unless he fills you up again to the brim. Your body has adjusted to him and only him, addicted to the way he knows how to make you scream and shake, leaving you breathless and alive. In the end, you and Miguel come to a mutual agreement together; stay housemates with benefits. Friends with benefits. It’s both your dirty little secret. 

When you drive up to the residential car park, you unload your things from the car into the shared house. As you suspected, you don’t expect Miguel to be in the house when you walk in, greeted by the quietness and sight of the open-floor living room and kitchen. You organise your groceries in the kitchen, putting them in places where they're supposed to be. Seeing that you have spare time until Miguel gets back, you take a shower in your en-suite bathroom to freshen up. 

You walk downstairs thirty minutes later and think of settling in the living room and putting on the TV when you hear the front door unlock. “Welcome, home.” 

Miguel looks at the staircase and sees you, a look of relief and weariness from work makes his shoulders slump a little. “Hey, hermosa.” 

“How was work?” You ask, following him into the kitchen. He unpacks his lunch box, cleans it up and immediately puts it on the drying rack. You’ve seen what he does many times but it never fails to make you feel domesticated by the routine. A man who tidies after himself is quite sexy. 

“It was a pretty good day, surprisingly,” Miguel responds. 

“I got your message,” you begin. “You said that there’s something you want to talk to me about?” 

He turns to look at you and you can see Miguel’s lips curve into a smirk. “Si, hermosa,” he replies. “It’s about our arrangement. Come, let’s talk in the living room.” 

His tone is serious and it makes you worry a little. A part of you fears that he wants to stop the housemates with benefits. The fear that he might have found someone else—someone better. Or a possible scenario that he’s planning to settle in a committed relationship and wants to end the housemates with benefits agreement. Your heart drums in your chest uncomfortably, feeling a sense of dread and you’re not ready to hear the news of spending less time with him. “What about our arrangement?” 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Miguel says. When his eyes meet yours, he chuckles softly. “It’s a good discussion, depending on how you see it.” 

You feel your shoulders relax as they slump down in relief, but his words puzzle you. The relief is short-lived as soon as you hear his next words.  

“What do you think of us having sex together for a whole week?” 

It takes you a whole minute of silence to process his words. And when you do, there’s a look of disbelief on your face. “You want us to do it for seven days straight?” You repeat in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind, Miguel?” 

“No,” Miguel smirks. He repeats his words with every pronunciation. “For seven days straight.” 

A contemptuous laugh escapes out of you and you shake your head. “In what world do you think that’s a good idea?” You ask. “Do we even have time to do that?” 

The coy smirk on Miguel’s face grows bigger because you know what he’s thinking; the two of you can figure out a way. You both always do. “We’ll make time, chica,” Miguel responds. “Come on, it’ll be a lot of fun.” 

You shake your head, still in disbelief. “Not so sure about that.” 

Miguel moves closer, his hand propped on the cushion behind you. His tone is cocky and sly. “You don’t think I can pull it off?”

“I think you’re insane,”  

His chest rumbles when he laughs. “It would only be just for a week,” Miguel says, then raises a brow. “You think that you wouldn’t enjoy having sex with me for a week?” 

You looked straight into his eyes, and a glint of challenge flashed as you both stared at each other. The words come out of your mouth faster than you can process. “Bet.” 

Miguel smirks and he doesn’t hesitate, pulling you by the waist with one hand, and another on the back of your head. His lips crash onto yours in a passionate kiss, a little rushed and rough. Miguel’s mouth moves in a slow yet deep and capturing tug whilst his hands roam your body, pulling and grabbing. It takes one kiss— a taste of his lips— and your head is spinning in a whirlwind. 

You lean back and lay down on the couch with Miguel on top of you. He deepens the kiss for a brief moment, his tongue tracing your parted lips when he pulls away, and you find yourself chasing after him as Miguel hovers right in front of you. “I’ll go easy on you, hermosa,” he whispers. 

“Easy on me?” You chuckle. “I doubt that.” 

He only smirks in response and looks at you. “It’s Monday today,” he begins. “So let’s start with something easy first.” 

When he purses his lips in a pretence pondering, you know that it’s a lot to get a lot more interesting. “Masturbation rhymes with Monday, hm?” Miguel brushes his nose on yours. “Then, missionary and mating…” 

“You’re unbelievable,” you shake your head but it doesn’t stop you from smiling. 

“Is that a yes?” Miguel asks. He drags his hands from your sides down to your hips, moving his hand across your lower belly down between your legs. It makes your breath hitch when his hand touches over your shorts. His fingers tracing your clothed cunt. “To our first challenge?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling him into a needy kiss. Miguel takes this as a yes and his fingers curl onto the band of your shorts, while your hand does the same to his pants. You return the favour by groping him gently, rubbing your palm on his semi-hard bulge, and you hear Miguel groan against your lips. Both your shorts and his pants are taken off and left discarded somewhere in the room, followed by the rest of your attire of shirts, undies and briefs. 

“Dios mío, would you look at that?” Miguel says with a smirk on his face. 

“Shut up.” You mumble. You don’t need to look at yourself to know what he’s talking about—you know that you’re already wet. When Miguel glides his fingers between your folds—all aroused and slippery–you groan softly at the feeling. One of your hands goes to his cock, thumb toying with the tip of its head as you begin to jerk him off. The other begins to start stroking his girth. 

“Fuck.” Miguel nips on your neck at the area below your ear. With his fingers rubbing your cunt and you stroking his cock, you’re both in a mess. Pleasuring each other in sync. The more Miguel rubs down your clit, the more you moan and the faster you move your hand up and down his length. The neediness grows in the room and every touch feels so good. Your body responds to his touch, making your toes curl and thighs tremble. 

“Mierda, that’s it, baby. Shit.” Miguel groans. He rubs your cunt faster as you get wetter that it squelches. You try to keep up with the pace and give as much pleasure with every stroke as he touches your clit and labia. The build-up pleasure creeps him out when you clutch one of your hands on his forearms. 

It becomes too much, both of you moaning and gasping against each other’s lips. The neediness shows when you feel close to orgasm and Miguel’s cock throbbing in your hand. You feel your lips brush against his lips in a heated kiss, his hand which was playing with your cunt, is pulled away and now holding your hips. He pulls away and stares at you before grabbing his cock and rubbing it against your slit, letting you feel the tip that sends the urge of needing him inside of you. 

“Don’t move,” Miguel tells you. He holds onto your legs by your calves, opening yourself up to him a bit more. Miguel almost loses his composure when he feels you engulf him with your warm heat because of how wet you’re already from the masturbation. All wet and perfect for him, making him groan when he bottoms out, and gasp from you. 

The two of you are still for a moment before Miguel starts thrusting. His cock fills you up so nicely and it hits your G-spot and rubs your clit with every stroke. You always clench around him with each thrust and Miguel loves it, seeing you writhing and moaning because of him. You’re clutching your nails on his back as his hips move continuously. Moaning and whining his name at how deep he thrusts into you. The way Miguel raises your hips and settles your lower body on his thighs angles him to fuck deeper into you. Making your back arch in pleasure and your body writhe. 

“Fuck, fuck, nena,” Miguel moans above you. Gripping onto the sofa cushion he feels himself over to the edge of orgasm. “Doing this with you for a whole week is going to be the best thing in my life.” 

“Miguel,” you whine. His stamina is greater than yours so you’re not surprised that he can keep up thrusting into you. You tighten with each movement, the room grows hotter as both you and Miguel move in a pleasant, constant wave. 

Both your legs are propped up in the air and placed on his shoulders. Miguel angles you a little higher as he holds onto your legs by your thighs. Feeling your ass cheeks on his hips. Your body tenses and back arches when Miguel doesn’t slow down his thrusts. Grunting as he speeds up and repeatedly hits your sweet spot. “You’re going to come so much like this,” Miguel pants. 

And he’s right. Because your body twitches the moment you feel a strong wave of orgasm coursing through you. Miguel doesn’t slow down when you release and his thrusts feel urgent. Slapping himself onto you and ramming in your cunt until his cock twitches, soon spilling his come inside you with a loud moan. 

The two of you are out of breath. Miguel gently puts down your legs onto the sofa though his cock is still nestled inside you. You’re both looking at each other, still feeling the effects of the climaxes. “Same time again for tomorrow?” He asks. 

You sigh and lean back against the armrest, feeling out of breath. Even then, you still manage to make a joke regarding the situation. “Same position tomorrow?” 

“A different one every day.” Miguel chuckles. “You’ll find out soon enough.” 

He smiles and leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead and it sends a rush of warmth to your core. It’s not meant to be a tender display of affection, but it doesn’t help that it still makes your heart skip a beat. “Now, are you hungry for dinner tonight?”

keep track of more updates with #𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 (miguel o'hara).

all of my links.

[vinvantae]

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Jenson button x childhood sweetheart!reader

Summary: The not so wordless agreement that you and Jenson would someday end up together is thrown into turmoil when he’s invited to your proposal party

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none

The snow fell across the fields like a blanket, tucking each blade of grass in for a dream-filled night’s sleep - it would usually be quiet this time of night, but the air was filled with the laughter of the children and teenagers alike who had begged their parents to take their sleds out and venture down the icy slopes. You yourself had been one of them, rapping your fists against the red wood of your neighbour’s door, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited not so patiently for it to swing open.

“Hi John!” You grinned. “Can Jense come out? I know it’s late but we haven’t had snow like this in years and-”

John smiled and stepped aside, revealing Jenson sat at the bottom of their stairs - shoving his feet into his welly boots. “Looks like someone had the same idea as you, son.”

Jenson looked up from the black rubber of his boots to see his best friend - the tip of your nose and cheeks tinged pink, the pearly whites of your teeth lit up in a big grin. He matched it with a smile of his own, giving his Dad a quick hug before joining you out in the snow, taking your sled from you to carry over his own shoulder. You were wrapped in a big yellow coat, a hand-knitted scarf and a pair of gloves that looked a touch too big for your teenage hands - your boots already covered in a soft layer of snow from the small trek to get Jenson.

“Don’t go too far, and be back by midnight!” John called out. “I’m sure your Mum told you the same, young lady.”

“Yes, boss!” You laughed, arm locked tightly around Jenson's so as not to slip on the icy ground. Your best friend smiled down at you - leaning into you to share your warmth.

Jenson listened to you yap away about all the different things you could make out of snow that would be endlessly better than a snowman. He let his arm drop from yours, moving to loop around your waist so he could haul you in closer - using the cold as an excuse. You gestured towards the moving crowds up ahead.

“The big hill just by the forest is where everyone is, it’s got the best spot for sledging.”

Jenson hummed softly, and you looked up at him. “Yes, but I don’t want to go sledding with everyone. I want to go sledding with you.”

Your nose wrinkled up in a playful disgust, earning a playful shove - a squeak leaving your lips as you nearly slipped on the icy tarmac beneath your feet, but you knew Jenson would never let you fall. His surprisingly strong arm stayed around your middle - holding you close to him. As you looked at him once again, your cheeks warmed - his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that, you know what happened last time.” You grumbled, jabbing his waist - breaking eye contact.

Jenson raised a teasing brow. “And who said that would be the worst thing?”

“Jenson.” You hissed quietly, not missing the girls who watched the two of you walking in the opposite direction to the rest of the town. You were well aware of the jealousy that sprung from your friendship with him - you’d been in his life since you were infants, but as the two of you had grown up - Jenson had quickly become established as one of the most handsome boys in school. “Don’t say another word.”

“You know I don’t care what they think.” He grumbled. “I don’t want them…”

You looked up at him, the mischief in his eyes had since faded - replaced with a warm tenderness that you knew he had reserved for you. “Jense…”

“I know, I know.” His sigh was wistful. “I’d give it all up for you, you know that.”

You took his face in your gloved hands, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. “I would never. Racing is your dream, and we’re only kids. You’d hate me in the future for stopping you from chasing your dreams.”

He watched your gaze flutter across his face, trying to get a read on how he felt - but in his silence you spoke again.

“Hey, if you've gone and got all those big racing dreams of yours… and you still want me…”

Jenson’s hand came to rest on top of yours, gently removing it from his face so he could lace your fingers together. “I’ll always want you.”

You laughed, although there was little humour in it. “Jense, we’re only 16. When you’re an adult you may feel different, especially when you’ve got all these beautiful women throwing themselves at you once you’ve won a race…. I would be over the moon if you still wanted me but I’m not going to be disappointed if your feelings change.”

He gave you a sad smile. “…I’ll always want you.”

His forehead came to rest against yours, skin surprisingly warm despite the freezing temperatures. You went to protest again but his lips captured yours in a sweet kiss, you allowed yourself to indulge in a moment of weakness - letting your arms slide around his neck to keep him close.

Letting him go was the right thing to do, being hung up on a girl he knew back home was only going to hold him back. He deserved the right to explore and be free whilst he travelled the world, you’d never ask him to give that up.

Oh, but he wished you had.

He wished you had when he was invited back home after a race season nearly 12 years later by your mother, insisting he had to be at this party. Neither of you were 16 anymore - he was 28 years old, had just come 18th in the championship and felt absolutely miserable. But you? You seemed to be absolutely thriving.

Job of your dreams, beautiful home… and William. Fucking William.

The two of you had been together for almost 3 years now, he was some hot-shot CEO of his own company - money coming out of his ass, private jets, cars. And you knew he spoiled the shit out of you, every time you came to a race to support Jenson - William had insisted on paying for you to have the best experience, despite Jenson offering to do the whole lot for free.

And when he pulled up to the address your mother had given him, he thought his jaw was going to fall through the floor. Sure, he’d seen mansions in his time - but this was a whole different level.

It had a fucking maze in the garden for crying out loud. With a fountain in the middle? Who did this guy think he was? He reluctantly gave his car keys over to the valet, before following others inside - all of a sudden feeling drastically underdressed in his sports coat. He was more than grateful for the champagne that was offered to him as he desperately sought out someone, anyone he knew.

The two of you had grown up together, he thought you had the same friends but he couldn’t recognise a single face. Despite the two of you staying in near constant contact, he suddenly felt like he really didn’t know you at all. The girl he knew would scoff at all this, one of your favourite activities when you came to races past - before William - was making fun of all of the rich people, flaunting their wealth but now you were one of them.

He stepped out onto the back patio, eyes finally landing on your parents - chatting away without a care in the world, your father adorned with a watch and a diamond necklace draped across your mothers neck that he knew they couldn’t afford.

“Jenson! You made it!” Your Mum’s face lit up at the sight of him - she stepped away from the other couple she was with to wrap him up in a tight hug. “Oh she’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

“Have you seen her? I don’t feel like I know anyone here.” He chuckled awkwardly, giving your Dad a hug as well.

“Oh I’m sure she’s just making some finishing adjustments, we need her to look perfect.” She grinned.

Jenson frowned. “What’s the occasion?”

Your mum gasped. “Oh, I was sure William would have told you!”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “William and I aren’t exactly best mates. I think he only tolerates me because I’ve been around for so long.”

Jenson didn’t miss the look your parents exchanged before your Mum placed a gentle hand on his forearm, giving him a sorry smile. “William is proposing to her, love.”

In that moment, he could’ve sworn his heart stopped - he didn’t know you and William were so serious. He always thought that he was just a distraction until the two of you were both in a place where you were ready to commit. It had almost happened when he got 3rd place back in 2004, but you were so close to a big promotion and you wanted to focus on that. You always wanted to be able to give the other your full 100%, be in a place in life where you were secure - maybe he should’ve just said fuck it and let himself be selfish.

He wasn’t mad at you for dating William, he could never be. But were you really about to marry him? The garden went quiet for a moment, so he looked over his shoulder.

You slowly walked down the stairs into the garden - a long dress in a deep blue hugging your figure, long sleeves to protect you from the cooler weather - a slit in the side allowed you to walk elegantly, your hand still resting against the cold stone of the railing. Jenson wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you with such professional looking makeup, nails to match your dress too. Beneath the jealousy, he felt the urge to tease you - wind you up for becoming one of the posh people you’d always claimed to loathe.

But you looked nervous as you started greeting everyone - eyes flickering around the party, you looked beautiful too, of course, but he recognised the look on your face - he’d only seen it a few times through your life but this was probably the worst he’d seen it. Fear. Did you know what was happening…? And who were you looking for?

William practically led you around the party, his hand never straying from the small of your back - which Jenson could now see was nearly exposed from the low back of your dress, adding to the elegance of your look. Jenson considered going over, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he loitered around your parents - not really letting himself join in on the conversation either, just keeping a watchful eye on you.

But that didn’t last too long either, the clinking of a champagne glass and microphone feedback filled the garden.

“Evening all, thank you all for joining us.” William had led you to the middle of the patio, his hand still on the small of your back.

“I’m sure she’s loving being the centre of attention like this.” He mumbled, earning a gentle elbow to the side from your mother. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Oh, shush. You had your chance.” She snipped at him.

He went to protest but instead shook his head and turned back to the scene in front of him - you were fiddling with the tips of your fingers, trying to avoid eye contact with the onlooking crowd but still glancing up as if you were looking for someone. Is she looking for me?

“As you know, I’ve been lucky to spend the last 3 years with this wonderful woman at my side.” William spoke with a confidence that demanded attention, Jenson wanted to tear his eyes away but he just couldn’t. “She came into my life at just the right time, and I can’t wait to see where the rest of our time together takes us… so…”

Your whole body froze as William sank to one knee, fishing a small velvet box from his suit pocket. “William…”

Jenson wasn’t sure if anyone else heard the tone of your voice like him, or if he’d just made it up - but it sounded like a warning.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive, and do the honour of being my wife? Will you marry me?”

You risked looking at the crowd one final time, and when your eyes finally met the blue you’d been searching for - you practically felt the tension melt away. Jenson tilted his head a little, raising his brow - you didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a teasing smirk and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from returning it. You didn’t miss the way your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, how in that moment you wanted nothing more than to rush across the garden and have him wrap you up in his arms.

“…well?”

“Oh.” You suddenly remembered the man currently on one knee in front of you. You tore your gaze away from Jenson to look down at him, a sorry smile on your face. “…I’m… I’m really flattered, Will, I am. Uhm, maybe we can talk about this in private?”

The silence of the crowd was replaced with whispers, although he stood behind him - Jenson could see William’s entire body stiffen and his ears turn a dark pink with embarrassment. “…yeah, uh… yeah okay.”

William passed the microphone to someone before walking off, leaving you standing alone - you mumbled apologies to everyone before doing your best to catch up with him, holding the bottom of your dress so as not to trip over your heels. Jenson finally felt like he could breathe again; whilst everyone else was upset and shocked by the scandal before them - he felt relieved, you did still want him.

“…maybe inviting you was a bad idea.”

Jenson looked to your mother, who was still staring straight ahead. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know that there was a chance she’d say no. This was her choice… this has nothing to do with me.”

She shot him a look. “I saw her face when she realised you were here, Jenson. You had your chance with her, why can’t you let her move on?”

“I’ve not had my chance with her… don’t you see that? I’ve been waiting until I can give her the life she deserves and-“

“She doesn’t need to wait, William can give her that.”

Jenson scoffed. “This isn’t the life she wants… I know William wants her to quit her job and play the pretty little housewife but that’s not who she is. You know that, I know that. And proposing to her in front of all these people? Most of whom I’m not convinced she’d even met before today? Her worst nightmare.”

“Jenson.”

“You didn’t have to invite me… but you did.” He stood his ground. “If you wanted this to happen then you should’ve kept me in the dark, but you know deep down, just as well as I do, that William isn’t the one for her. I love your daughter, more than he ever could.”

Before she could speak again, your father placed a hand on her shoulder - bringing her attention to him. “What’s done is done. It’s her choice at the end of the day… and she didn’t say no, they might be working it out as we speak.”

Your mother rolled her eyes. “Yes honey, because that’s how all happy marriages start - with an argument.”

As the two of them bickered back and forth, Jenson decided to make himself scarce and track you down - weaving through the crowds who were still speaking in hushed tones. Poor William. What was she thinking? How embarrassing.

He ignored them, pushing his way inside - listening out for the two of you and seemingly you hadn’t gone far. A nearby door slightly ajar, a raised voice coming from inside.

“This is so embarrassing! All of my friends are here!”

“And almost none of mine, William.” Your voice was a lot more level, calm. Jenson lent against the wall just outside of the room. “Why did you not invite any of my friends?”

“These are our friends.” He huffed, Jenson could hear him pacing back and forth. “God, I just wanted today to be special - I got your parents here, fuck, I even got your mother to invite Jenson and you know how I feel about that prick.”

“Hey.” You snapped. “Keep his name out of your mouth.”

William went deadly quiet, it was scary. Jenson was close to peeking around the corner to see what was happening, but then William spoke again.

“It’s him isn’t it? It’s always going to be him.”

Your sigh spoke a thousand words, and this time Jenson did risk looking into the room - just to see the look on your face at your boyfriend’s accusation. You didn’t look sad, you didn’t look angry… you had a look of acceptance. You stepped closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his bicep.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you…” Your voice was soft, practically laced with honey. “I love you, William… but Jenson…”

Jenson waited with bated breath to hear your next words - you’d told him before how you felt about him, but this was different. You didn’t know he was there - you had no reason to be gentle with your choice of words. He turned back away from the room, head rolled back against the wall - he allowed his eyes to close.

“He makes me not want to sleep because being with him makes reality better than my dreams… Home is wherever he is.” Your voice was practically a whisper, as if you knew your words would sting if they were any louder. “I just don’t think I could love anyone in the same way as I love him. I… I was selfish with you.”

“I was selfish too.” He admitted, his hand coming up to cup your jaw - thumb brushing across your cheek. “I should’ve just let you be with him. I always knew where your heart truly was…”

“William, this isn’t your fault. Please, don’t blame yourself for this… all of this is on me.”

“I should go. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry, you deserve better.”

Jenson froze as he heard the sounds of shoes tapping against the floor, there was no way he could get away without being spotted - so he just accepted his fate, he took a deep breath. The footsteps paused in front of him and he opened his eyes to meet the sorrowful gaze of William. “Treat her well, yeah?”

“I promise. I’m sorry it ended like this, man.” He forced a smile. “Best of luck to you?”

William held his hand out and Jenson shook it, pressing his lips into a line. “You too mate. Sorry for keeping her from you all these years.”

With a gentle pat on Jenson’s shoulder, William left to go sate the crowds - leaving your childhood friend alone in the corridor. He took one deep inhale before stepping into the room - your back was to him, as you looked out the tall window, presumably to watch your ex(?) boyfriend subdue all of his friends.

“Just me and you, under the cover of night… in the forest on that cute mossy stone bridge across the river. The one you like to throw pebbles in.”

You looked over your shoulder with a coy smile. “Sorry?”

“That’s how I’m gonna do it.” He shrugged, stepping up behind you - strong hands coming to settle on your hips, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Nothing fancy like all this.”

He relished in the way your cheeks flushed. “That sounds wonderful, Jense… I can’t wait.”

“Not much longer, I promise.” He whispered, this time kissing just behind your ear. “I’d propose to you right now if we weren’t literally at your engagement party.”

You laughed, turning in his arms. “Tomorrow then?”

He couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Tomorrow it is.”

***

Your feet crunched against the snowy ground, nose and cheeks tinged pink as you made the walk from your flat to Jenson’s house - the roads were too icy to drive and you’d always loved the snow, so walking was the easy choice. You smiled softly as you walked through your old neighbourhood, kids laughing and throwing snowballs, parents peeking through the curtains to watch on.

It didn’t surprise you that Jenson had spent some of his earnings to buy a small home here - it was one of his favourite places in the world, yours too. You rapped your gloved hands against the door, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited.

As soon as it opened, you were wrapped up in Jenson’s arms - a kiss placed on your cold forehead before he stepped out to join you, locking the door behind him. “Can’t believe it’s snowing.”

“I know, especially since it was so sunny yesterday.” You hummed, looping your arm around his. “Where are we going?”

He gave you a soft smile. “Do you not remember the plans we made yesterday?”

“O-oh.” You giggled. “Yeah, yeah I remember.”

“Good.” Jenson pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Then let’s go.”

“Wait.” You stopped him walking to take his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you.” His voice was practically a whisper. “We don’t have to do this today… you literally just broke up with William.”

You tilted your head, giving him a sweet smile - brushing your thumbs across his cheeks. “I want this. I want you.”

His grin was almost bright enough to melt the snow around you, he took your hand in his and the two of you began the journey - careful to avoid any icy patches, holding each other close for balance. Jenson took the time to give you a full catch up of his next season, Honda had pulled out due to financial issues so Ross Brawn had bought the team and they were starting from what felt like nothing - a big risk, they weren’t… well anything. But he had faith, he had to. After coming 18th, what did he have to lose?

You had nothing but adoration for him in his career, no matter where he ended up - you felt foolish for letting each other put your career ahead of your relationship. You knew you were capable of getting your career goals with Jenson by your side, but you always feared he’d have resented you if you’d somehow got in the way of him getting the wins he deserved.

But as you stepped into the forest, the frozen stream sparkling beneath the bridge - none of your worries seemed to matter anymore. Jenson took both of your hands in his and carefully led you onto the bridge, careful not to slip as he walked backwards. “Your trousers will get wet if you kneel, Jense.”

“Worth it.” He grinned. “I know this isn’t a surprise, but you got to promise to let me get through what I have to say, okay?”

“Promise.” You hummed, taking a deep breath, giving his hands a squeeze.

You bit your lip as he got on his knees, keeping his gloved hands wrapped around yours. “Where do I even start?”

“Might be a bit long if you start at the beginning.” You teased.

“Hey, what did I say?” He hushed, narrowing his eyes playfully at you. “Okay… honestly, I don’t think there’s any words that could truly describe just how much I love you, but I’m going to try my best.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out with the way you were looking at him - a gentle sparkle in your eyes as you held back the tears, the softest of smiles on your lips. He took a deep breath.

“You’re my best friend, my soulmate… I literally cannot remember a life before you and I don’t ever want to picture my life without you. I wish I could specify the exact moment in time I knew you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of time with, but it was gradual, all consuming. You’re my first thought when I wake up, my last thought before I fall asleep and you fill all of my best dreams.”

He let go of your hands to remove his gloves and yours from your left hand. “I don’t care that my career isn’t where I want it to be. My biggest regret is simply that I didn’t do this sooner… I want us to achieve our dreams together. I want us to grow and change together.”

The tears were freely rolling down your cheeks and as he pulled a small black box out of his coat pocket, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. How you felt in this moment was polar opposite to how you had felt when it was William on one knee in front of you - you felt safe, loved… Jenson was all you’d ever wanted.

“So, my love, I’m sorry I’m not the first man to ask you this… but I hope to be the last.” He opened up the box, a beautiful ring inside. “Will you marry me?”

You nodded faster than you ever had. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Jenson grinned, and you let him slide the ring onto your finger - and you took a moment to admire it, recognising it as his Grandmother’s, a ring that had been promised to you by her when you were no older than 8 and now it was really on your finger. You looked to your fiancé, who was now standing with an expectant look on his face.

“You gonna kiss me or what?” You purred, running your hands up his chest.

“Don’t have to ask me twice, baby.”

He only gave himself a moment to grin before kissing you with a new vigour - when you brought your hands up to hold his face again, he could feel the press of your ring against his skin and it made his heart race. He pulled back just enough to nudge his nose against yours.

“I told you before and I’ll tell you until the end of time… I’ll always want you.”

───�� ·❆· ※───

Hope you enjoyed!

This is really a birthday present for myself cus I’m fully in my Jenson era but I hope you all like it ♥️

[kuchikki]

" this leaves an empty spot in my schedule "

pairing : byakuya kuchiki x afab!reader

tags : mdni , SMUT. , a little fluff if you squint , not proofread

a/n : lowkey i made this half-asleep so i mightve rushed it but i cant tell. BUT MY FIRST FIC PUBLISHED!!! i also dont write smut so this might be bad idk i feel like i rushed it

w/c : 1.4k

you were on your way back to the kuchiki mansion drenched in sweat after spending a few hours sparring with captain hirako, you made your steps quick and silently. as you found yourself in byakuya and your shared room, a servant slid open the door and shared a bit of alarming news

"mrs kuchiki, there will be guests arriving in 30 minutes." when you heard the news your eyes grew wide, you had no idea guests were coming over today. yet you kept your composure. you knew you had to clean up and make it quick.

"alright then, you may leave. thank you." you said to the servant as she closed the door and you quickly grabbed your kimono & undergarments then made your way to the bathhouse.

surprisingly, you made quick timing. took you about 23 minutes to wash off all your sweat and continue your after shower routine of washing your face and moisturizing your body.

you quickly walked over to you and byakuyas shared room yet again to drop off your shihakushō and greet your unexpected guests. but alas, when you open the sliding door you find byakuya taking off his captains hayori and bringing his hair down. you found yourself walking into the room and your mouth opened to ask questions.

"byakuya, why are you taking your coat and hair down? dont we have guests?" he slowly turned to you and answered you.

"they decided to cancel, how inconsiderate. but i musnt complain too much; this leaves an empty spot in my schedule." you found yourself relaxing your muscles and finally having a moment to take a deep breath. byakuya was a busy man, you found yourself falling asleep before and waking up after him every night. you spoke to ask him another question

"so then, what will you do with this "empty spot" in your schedule. im assuming you expected this to take the rest of your afternoon." you pondered. byakuya looked at you lovingly, you hadnt seen him look at you like this in weeks. it made your knees weak. but you didnt have your hopes high for anything to happen.

right as you were about to look away from him he opened his mouth to reply again.

"well, i was thinking my wife might need some "quality time" with me. its been quite a while since we have spent time with each other." his hand found his way to your cheek to cup your face and he pressed a kiss to your lips, you exchanged it back with him. the kisses quickly became heated and passionate, his tongue pressing your lips asking for entrance into your mouth. you obliged and your mouth quickly opened, releasing a moan. you didnt know how long that was being held there or that there was even one there.

you pulled away first in need of air so in that quick moment byakuya reached over and locked the door so nobody could interrupt this moment.

you felt a wetness start to pool up inbetween your thighs and you felt a sudden need to be as close to byakuya as possible. you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and brought your body as close as possible to him. you rapidly felt his growing erection and your face grew red, you both were probably thinking the same thing.

of course byakya couldnt look you, this is his dignity we are talking about here. you guys have done it a few times yet hes still embarrassed. when you grazed over his manhood he couldnt help but hiss a little from the friction. but of course, consent is needed before he must make any big move. he got close to your face and murmured into your ear.

"youre okay with what im about to do darling, right?" he warned. you looked at his face and nodded, but byakuya wasnt satisfied. so he opened his mouth again, a bit more demanding

"i need a verbal answer" you sighed but obliged. "of course." within seconds of the words spewing out your mouth he picked you up by the thighs and brought you to the bed and untied the ribbon to your floral kimono. you proceeded to make haste and take off the kimono, discarding it somewhere in the room.

byakuya looked at the baby blue lacy underwear with a matching bra set and its like his mouth watered. he teased at you, "oh, all this for me?".

you gave him an unamused look then smiled and kissed him again but mid-kiss you unexpectedly you felt pleasure run through your body and moaned as byakuya rubbed circles over your clothed clit.

you pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting you two. byakuya pushed your panties over to the side and shoved 2 of his digits in your wet cunt. he quickly pushed them in and out, clearly not having any patience for him to shove his dick in you. you found it amusing to watch the squad 6 captain slowly unravel right in-front of your own two eyes.

he could tell you were close to your release, you started to grip the sheets until your knuckles turned white and you kept squirming. thats when byakuya took his fingers out and you whined. he noticed this and quickly exclaimed "calm down, i never said i was leaving you."

he undid his ribbon on his shihakushō and took off his bottoms & boxers. he was rock hard and he grew impatient. he quickly took off your panties and shoved his rock-hard dick into your tight pussy. he immediately let out a well-needed moan and sat there, letting you adjust. after a few seconds he pulled back and started relentlessly pounding into you.

you didnt know how long you needed this but you felt your release building up yet again. a moan slowly came out your mouth in the sound of byakuyas name. the room became more and more stuffy as the daylight turned into night. you could tell byakuya was getting close by the way his thrusts got faster and he groaned more and more over time.

"i- im gunna- imma cuuuumm" you blurted out. everything was getting hazy and all you could hear was slapping noises of his balls against your ass.

"go ahead girl, you deserve it" he uttered. you came first but not a few seconds after you felt another hot liquid added to the mix in your cunt as byakuya threw his head back. he sat in that position for what felt like forever until he fell over beside you in bed.

after a few minutes of laying there until you both caught your breath and cooled down, byakuya got up and put his shihakushō back on and left your room. you were too tired to protest about it and wanted to just sleep.

you found yourself just about to doze off until your door opened again. it was byakuya, he came back with a wet rag and some water. he went over and cleaned you up. he then began to state how you should drink some water, which you did since you didnt want him scolding you for your bad health practices. a little bit after you murmured to him.

"are you coming back to bed?" he looked at you and replied, "only if you want me to." you immediately said please do, which led him to put on a take off his shihakushō and put on a plain shirt.

he came back into bed with you and you sprawled up close next to him. he rubbed your back and you profess something right as your about to fall asleep.

"could we spend more time together, byakuya?"

"ill try and find time in my schedule just for you."

@kuchikki 2024. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men and No Nut November - Preferences

Simon Riley, Johnny MacTavish, John Price, Kyle Garrick, König, Maxim Bale, Alejandro Vargas x Reader

Warnings: smut

Summary: In which both of you participate in the challenge. 

A/N: Yes, I know November is over but this was a request so here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!

Simon Riley

You suggested the idea of having no sex or any kind of act for a month. You two have been at it pretty much every day, sometimes many times during the day, so it came as the perfect idea.

You told him that it would make him want you more and vice versa. 

What you forgot is that Simon could be very patient. 

So much so, that he even said "Only a month?" before he shrugged and moved on.

What none of you expected is that the sexual tension and frustration would be too much to bear.

On day 27, he would be without a shirt and you would physically shake.

On day 28, you would wear a pair of jeans that just makes your ass look amazing, making him take a cold shower immediately.

On day 30, both of you had enough and you couldn't take it anymore.

To say you two destroyed each other's clothes would be a nice thing to say.

He never pounded you as hard as he did on that day. He never came as hard or as much as he did on that day. 

Johnny MacTavish

It was actually his idea, he heard from Simon that he and his wife were doing this challenge and Johnny wanted to try it out. 

You agreed, you really thought both of you had enough self-restraint to survive.

And in the beginning, it was okay. It seemed like you were doing good.

Until you weren't.

By the end of the month, you really wanted to at least take care of the 'problem' yourself.

But you couldn't.

As for Johnny, he was surprisingly well. He distracted himself and did many things around the house.

He even finished the porch that he started months before. He cleaned the garden and even began to build a new area in the garden for your dogs.

The fact that you didn't have sex, resulted in a very clean house.

But you both made it, and once the month ended, you two were at it again. 

The garden for the dogs? Forgotten.

But at least you both very finally satisfied again.

Kyle Garrick

When you suggested the idea, he actually had something similar in mind. So, you both agreed to go along with it.

And surprisingly, you both did amazingly well.

You two went out on many cute dates, never once making any sexual remarks.

It was easy, but it didn't mean you didn't miss it.

Kyle counted the last couple of days as if it was Christmas.

John Price

John would be up for the idea. But he would fail on the same day.

Seeing you preparing dinner, you happened to bend over to pick up something, and it was over. 

He had you bent over the table in a second.

Maxim Bale

It took you a solid 5 minutes to explain the entire thing. He didn't understand why you would want to do this, but when you explained that it could be exciting, he was down for it.

It was a long month for Maxim.

He was never a sex-crazed person but he did like his sex in the morning, so when you reminded him that you would rather not, he was a little offended. 

Just a little.

The month was a struggle more for you than him.

He could easily occupy himself by doing something with his car.

And there you were, watching him fix his car, covered in sweat, muscles on full display.

As soon as the month was over, you were all over him.

Alejandro Vargas

He would laugh when you tell him the idea. 

Him? Surviving a month without sex or anything?

Impossible.

He knew it, you knew it.

But if you insist, he will try his best.

2 days he would last.

Completely failing the entire challenge. 

But who could blame him?

He loved you and your body.

And just as he said: "How did you expect me to live without this perfect pussy tightening around me?"

König

In the beginning of your relationship, he never instigated sex.

It was always you making the first move.

But as he got more and more comfortable with you, he started to come out of his shell.

It got to a point where he had to stop himself.

So, a challenge like this would excite him. He wanted to see how long he would last.

But let's be fair, he would struggle.

Because once you find the person you love the most, the one you feel so good around you can finally be yourself. And then you put yourself through a challenge like this.... it is torture. 

Yet, somehow he would still pull through, although he is sure his balls would hurt more and more with each passing day.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 6 | Birthday Tears

summary: today was your birthday, the day you’ve never got to actually celebrate because of some family issues. Youve now always avoided your birthday and didn’t want to celebrate it, when you were coming home from the grocery store you were met with a sweet surprise when entering the house…

warnings: FLUFF, brief mentions of family issues but aside from that nothing else!

authors note: day 6 is now complete ! Big thanks to my honey @/strnilolover for the idea and the other ideas, luv u sm💋. And tysm for all of the support throughout this whole thing, I rlly appreciate very single one of you sm. Hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The crisp autumn air hung in the space around me as I clutched the grocery bags and carried them home, each step filled with a heavy amount of memories I wish to forget everyday. Today was my birthday-the day I’ve avoided for many years now, it’s always been a battlefield in my family and it just serves as a reminder of fractured connections and unmet expectations. Each year I have tried to wish it away, for it to vanish and forever be forgotten by everyone on earth, pretending like the specific date held no significance to my well being.

I arrive at my shared apartment with my roommate Madi and set the bags down in the kitchen counter, the delicious scent of fresh basil and ripe tomatoes filling the air as a reminder to the pasta I was planning on making for tonight’s dinner for me and Madi if she wouldn’t be staying at her boyfriends house again. Just praying I won’t burn it, like it happened the previous times. I dismiss the slight sorrow hollowing a hole in my heart at the thought of others celebrating their birthday and looking forward to it, while I was avoiding it at every cost and turn I made.

My hands moved over to the grocery bags, taking each product outside and placing them one by one in the fridge at their designated spots. Just as I turn around, my attention was immediately brought to flickering lights coming from under the door leading to the living room. Did I forget to turn off the lamp before I left? Curiosity piqued as I took a step closer, my ears picking up the soft hum of perhaps my favorite sounds. Laughter but genuine, joyful laughter. Was the TV left turned on too alongside the lamp?

I paused for a moment, my heart slightly racing as trepidation coursed through me. Maybe it was best to retreat my steps back into the comfort of my lonely routine and worry about it later but something, perhaps a whisper of longing and something I lost a long time ago, pulled me towards the room without my consent. Cautiously I creaked open the door, expecting to see the same mess of a variety of items I was going to clean up when I got back home but instead I was met with colorful confetti scattered across the floor of the room along with a chorus of “Surprise!” Which caught me completely off guard.

The confetti danced in the air as I stood at the doorframe, completely surprised but then I scanned the living room. Alongside the festive chaos was standing my boyfriend, Christopher and surprisingly my roommate Madi without the presence of her boyfriend along with some of my other friends who managed to somehow scrunch into the small space of my modest living room. My heart swelled, shocked by their presence as it was unprepared for the flood of overwhelming emotions all coming down at once.

Chris moved to stand next to me, wrapping a loving arm around my waist and pulling me closer to his side as I admire the whole surprise still. “Happy birthday, ma” He celebrated, glancing down and chuckling at how well the surprise worked on me. The warmth of his small embrace scattered across my whole body and enveloped me in a safe space I never knew I needed to feel, urging away every of the shadows that clung to my heart on this day.

“What is all this?” I stammered, continuing to try and process the sight placed in front of me. On the small coffee table landed a homemade birthday cake topped off with several candles, decorations created from paper and a pile of gifts wrapped in pretty shiny wrapping paper. “We figured you finally needed to stop avoiding your birthday, everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday after all.” Madi beamed as she stepped closer to where me and Chris were standing while Chris adds, “We couldn’t let another year go by without making it special, y’know?”

Realization washes over me, the overwhelming kindness in their gesture felt like a balm to all of the years I’ve neglected my own birthday. I didn’t expect anyone to remember, let alone plan a whole celebration surprise party in my honor. “I- thank you guys. I honestly don’t know what to say.” I finally managed to speak, my voice faltering. I suddenly felt vulnerable, emotions catching right in my throat as the memories of family disappointment flooding back. Yet, while standing among my friends, a new warmth takes me into an embrace. This was love but uncomplicated and genuine which makes a soft tear roll down my cheek.

“Well let’s get this party started now, shall we?” Chris grinned, grabbing my hand and leading me to the couch, where they had already set up laughter-filled games and a playlist of my favorite songs. The atmosphere radiated with joy, and those initial bad memories and emotions I felt faded away, replaced with surprise and joy.

As we celebrated, each laugh, each honest word, chipped away at the walls I had put up to protect myself. The clinking of glasses, the sugary taste of cake, and the joy in my friends' eyes began to stitch together the lost fragments of my broken heart. I realized I wasn’t celebrating the absence of what had been, but rather embracing the promise of what could finally be.

When the time comes to blow out the candles, I wish for something different this year. Not for the day to disappear and be forgotten, but for the future where birthdays would mean love and connection. Laughter and joy echoes through the walls of my soul, when I open my eyes I was met with smiling faces, and I knew, despite all that had been, today had changed my perspective on birthdays.

This birthday was the beginning of a newfound respect for the day I had so long tried to erase—a day I could finally acknowledge as my own, filled with sweetness, acceptance, and the warmth of friendship. Today, I felt more than just celebrated; I felt alive.

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 14

Summary: You avoid the tension between you and Fred, you end up sobbing again, and make a decision that you're not sure if it was a mistake.

CW: crying, kissing, yelling

WC: 1.8k

A/N: a shortie but it's the moment you all have been waiting for! somewhat

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous| Next | Navi

You really didn’t mean to stay this many days at the burrow. But you surprisingly didn’t miss your bed all that much. And you were having fun.

Angelina had gone home before lunch, Lee was staying for one more day, and Harry was staying for the rest of break as per usual.

You felt bad for him.

You had shared the same loss, but you felt worse for Harry than anyone else. He was the one to see Cedric die. Then he had to go and battle a dark wizard, and bring the corpse back with him.

Remembering that he was younger than you made it worse, dealing with all that at fourteen obviously is going to take awhile to recover from.

It seemed that the both of you tried not to dwell too much on it, not wanting to think about it, and using this time at the Weasleys as a way to distract your thoughts from that event.

Harry didn’t want to remind you of what happened and you didn’t want to remind Harry of what happened. You still asked how one another were doing and responded to each other in small group conversations at the table. But really no more than that.

Anyways, you’re trying not to dwell on it. This a vacation, you should be happy.

You did your best to act normal around Fred, trying to act as if you haven’t cried in his arms twice, and slept in his bed twice, sharing the bed one of those times.

The hardest thing to ignore was that feeling in your stomach any time he was near to you.

You're not sure when it started, nor how long you’ve been ignoring it. Maybe months? That’s quite terrifying, you won’t think about it too much.

The day was simple. You ate breakfast, watched both of the twins along with Lee and Harry play Quidditch, the twins already using the beaters bats you got them. Lee offered to switch places with you, seeing if you’d like to play a round with everyone. You refused, terrified you wouldn’t be able to dodge a ball in time or fall off your broom and end up with a broken arm.

You all went inside eventually, talked, watched TV, ate lunch, talked some more, watched TV some more, watched everyone play Quidditch some more, ate dinner, talked more.

Nothing very exciting happened most of the day, except when Lee was able to hit George right in the nose with a scone from the other side of the table.

Also, you were actually able to make conversation with the twins without getting annoyed every other minute. That was new.

Other than that, nothing super important happened for most of the day.

Once you went upstairs to change, you realized that you underestimated how many days you’d stay when you packed your bag.

You were out of fresh pajama shirts, you weren’t in the mood to wear the same shirt you’ve chosen to sleep in the past two nights.

It wasn’t ideal, but you just decided to keep on the shirt you had on all day and sleep in that, changing into a new pair of pajama pants.

Leaving the room and passing the twins room, you noticed a light on and the door was cracked open, it’s usually shut.

Peaking your head in carefully, you saw Fred standing and hunched over on his desk, focused as he wrote something on a piece of paper. Probably a new idea.

Pushing the door open a bit more, it squeaked and you cringed at the sound. Fred’s head slowly looked to where you were. He smiled.

“Will you be joining me in my bed again tonight?” He teased, a sarcastic suggestive tone in this voice.

“You got lucky last night, don’t push it Weasley.” You stepped fully into the room, crossing your arms. Fred noticed and looked down at your shirt, his eyebrows creasing inwards for a moment.

“Is that the same shirt you’ve worn today?”

“Oh, yeah. I ran out of sleep shirts. This will do for now.” You shrugged, moving a hand to play with the hem of your shirt.

Fred didn’t say anything, he went over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, the wrong drawer. You got a glimpse of his boxers and immediately looked away. He slammed in shut with panic in his eyes, then clearing his throat as he opened the one underneath.

He pulled out an old shirt, it had a faded logo of some band he liked when he was prepubescent.

“Here, you can use this for the night.” He held out the shirt for you, you took it with a hesitant hand.

Looking down at it and rubbing the finger over the fabric, you bit your cheek. Feeling guilty all of sudden, about so much.

“Fred, why are you being so nice to me?” The words tumbled quickly out of your mouth, sounding painful.

“What?”

“I’ve been so horrible to you, all these years I've been so bitter and mean. Yet, you just let me in. You never held an actual grudge against me. I don’t get it.” You looked up at him, laying the folded shirt on the dresser next to you.

“Y/N, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He stepped closer to you. He was so close. So close.

“Why can't you just be mad at me? Why can't you hate me the way I’ve hated you.” You whined, shoving him slightly, praying you would finally scare him away, make him despise you. 

Fred held your arms once you tried to push him away again, rubbing your thumbs over your wrists, and weakly saying your name.

“I could never hate you.” Fred spoke softly, you let out a breath of frustration and dropped your hands from his light grasp, wishing he would just tell the truth. He already was. 

“I don’t know why. Maybe it’s ‘cause I understood, I am annoying and I am a bit of an arsehole sometimes with my pranks.” He chuckled and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know Y/N, I just can’t hate you.”

“Godric, why are you doing this to me Fred?” You groaned, dropping your head to his chest, leaning against him. 

“I don’t know. I can’t help it.” Fred shook his head as he gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, holding it up to his gaze. You clenched your teeth together.

Can't help what? Can’t help what, Fred? You wanted to push so bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Scared to know his response.

His eyes were glazed over, and he took in a shaky breath. You stared at his soft lips, the sides of lips curled down.

He looked so fucking beautiful. You hated him for it.

And you didn't know why you did it. All you knew was that in that moment, while staring into his infuriating eyes and glancing down at his lips that were curled into a frown, you wanted to kiss him. 

Air rushed out of his lungs as you did. It was strange, you expected anger, definitely regret, but all you felt was satisfaction.

Fred took a second before he pushed back into the kiss, his hands still cupping your face. Yours ran through his hair.

That yearning, the strange feeling of waiting you both held in your bodies for so long finally felt relieved as your lips opened and closed around each other.

You’d slept in his bed last night, now you were practically making out with him. What the hell were you doing?

Fred was the first to pull away, his chest heaving and swollen lips. Fred didn’t look regret-filled either but he also didn’t look ecstatic or happy. 

He looked…unsure, which was exactly how you felt. 

His eyes darted all along your face, taking in your features, analyzing them, trying to figure out what your puzzling expression was. 

Though you knew what you wanted to do, you wanted to kiss him again. You leaned in then stopped yourself, pushing yourself completely away from him.

“Oh no. No, no, no.” You mumbled repeatedly to yourself, stress taking over your face as you pressed the balls of your palms against your eyes. “What am I doing?”

Fred whispered your name, disappointed at your sudden denial. You stared at him with puffy eyes, the lamp showed the shine of a tear that fell down his face. The guilt was eating at you now.

“Fred…we can’t. I can’t….I just. Fuck.” You rubbed your hands down your face, nearly running out the room and down the steps. Fred followed suit but stopped at the doorway of his room. Watching you dart away once again, you didn’t stop moving until you were outside.

Fred stepped back and rubbed a hand against his cheek, then using two fingers to wipe his watering eyes.

You sat on the wooden bench outside, your back against the table connected to it. Hunched over with your head in your hands.

With no idea of what you were doing, what you just did, and why you ran out on Fred, you moved your hands from your head to your face.

You were a complete idiot. A complete and utter asshole for what you were doing. You’ve begun to mess with Fred’s head as much as he’s been messing with yours.

You wouldn’t blame him if he held a forever grudge against you for this, you’d understand if he began to resent you.

The door leading into the kitchen creaked open. You brought your head up slowly, even though you really didn’t want to. Knowing who it would be.

“Hey.” Fred had his hands tucked into his pockets, a painfully awkward look on his face. He couldn’t meet your eyes. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I deserve to be asked that.” You let out a breathy laugh. Fred puffed out his bottom lip and shrugged. Moving to sit down next to you on the bench.

The two of you sat in silence, you sat up fully, resting your hand in your lap and fiddling your fingers.

“I didn’t mean to run away like that. I just wasn’t sure what to do.”

“I get it, there was a lot happening in one moment.” Fred lied, he honestly didn’t get it. He wondered why you couldn’t just come to your senses with your feelings.

“It was rude of me though. I’m just not sure about anything really.” You sighed.

Fred rested his hand over yours in a sympathetic way.

“How about we just stay here, as friends? It’d be really nice to call you my friend after all these years.” He chuckled. “I’m just glad we’re not at each other's throats anymore.”

“Yeah. Yeah we can be friends.” You nodded slightly, voice hoarse when the words came out.

“Okay.” A weak grin took over his face.

“Okay.”

It’s hard to stay as friends when you’ve already kissed him.

tell me what you thought here! <3 or ask tba to the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @livingdeadgirlflorette @getthefuckoutofhereidiot @merikaberika @beomibeom @sleepygirlsworld @rookiegoose @suna-rintired @imamexican @whotfskai @miaandthediamonds @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @df841 @siriusmarryme @ooopsiedaisy997 @residentdemonhunter @ma1dita @b4tm4nn @anonymously-ominous @mistpx @fweasleys @m1chellerak

@hornyforyourb1tch

[moraxine]

Inevitable [Gojo Satoru]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

words: 1.3k

summary: you and satoru fall for the oldest trick in the book.

It’s a typical morning at Jujutsu High, the sun casting its warm hues across the campus as students roam the premises, training or studying. Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji are together, heads pressed close as they discuss their latest idea—Operation: Set Up Gojo and y/n.

"You guys know they totally like each other, right?" Nobara says, arms crossed. "I mean, come on, it's obvious. They keep sneaking glances at each other, the tension is unreal."

Megumi raises an eyebrow. "If it's so obvious, why haven’t they done anything about it?"

"Because they're both hopeless," Yuji chimes in with a grin. "Especially y/n-sensei. She's so shy when it comes to Gojo-sensei."

Nobara leans forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Exactly. And that’s where we come in. We need to give them a little... push. Maybe force them to confront their feelings, you know?”

Megumi sighs, accepting the fact that he has to take part in his friends’ stupidly mischievous schemes once again. “What are you thinking?

"Simple," she replies, cracking her knuckles. "We lock them up somewhere and just let the magic happen."

Later on the same day, you’ve just finished grading papers, ready to leave your office, when you receive a text from Yuji.

Hey, y/n sensei! Could you meet me in the old storage room near the gym? I really need your help with something super important!

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Other than the fact that this text is free of spelling mistakes, the request itself is quite strange. However, since your relationship with your students has been nothing but great, you put trust in them—as much as an adult can, anyway—and Yuji is no exception.

Thus, you grab your coat and make your way to the storage room. Truth be told, it’s rarely used and a bit dusty, which raises a lot of questions in your head as to why Yuji would need you there, but then you remember that it’s also tucked away enough for privacy. As you approach, you notice the door slightly ajar.

"Yuji?" you call out as you step inside.

No longer than ten seconds after you’re in, the door slams shut behind you, making you jump in terror. You whirl around, heart racing. Your hand reaches for the handle but the desperate attempt is futile.

What the actual fu-

“Oh, it’s just you.”

A helpless scream leaves your throat as you turn all the other way around and find yourself staring at the one and only Satoru Gojo, the man who’s been occupying way too much space in your thoughts lately.

Gojo seems composed when he offers you his signature smirk, leaning casually against the wall, his blindfold pulled up so his mesmerising blue eyes are visible. "I was expecting a student ambush or something."

"Yeah, well... same here, kinda,” you mutter, as you try to control your breathing. After a few moments, reality hits and your cheeks heat up as you realise you’re completely alone with him in a—not so very comfortable—space. "Did they trick you into coming here too?"

He nods. "I got a text from Megumi saying something about needing immediate help. Guess we're both suckers."

You cross your arms and sigh, slightly relieved that at least you aren’t a victim of some really serious prank. You glance at the door one last time. "Well, it's locked now, so I guess we're stuck."

There is an awkward silence for a few moments. The tension between you two has always been evident, but neither of you ever made a move to address it. You often find yourself stammering around Gojo, unable to handle the teasing words or the way his eyes linger on you a little too long sometimes.

Gojo, on the other hand, despite his confident front, is surprisingly shy when it comes to you. Sure, he makes his usual sarcastic comments and tries to act like all is fine, but deep down, he’s always been afraid of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you.

"So,” you start, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly, “you think this is some kind of setup?"

He chuckles, walking closer to you. "Oh, absolutely. Our adorable students are trying to play matchmaker. I should’ve known when I saw Yuji smiling like a fool earlier."

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore how close he’s standing now. "Well, it's not going to work. We’re professionals."

"Sure, because professionals definitely get trapped in storage rooms," Gojo quips, flashing you a grin. "Besides, I think they just wanted to speed up the inevitable."

You blink, feeling your pulse quicken. "Inevitable?"

Acting dumb won’t slow down that inevitable, either.

"You know," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Us."

You narrow your eyes, though your heart is now undoubtedly hammering in your chest. "You have a lot of nerve assuming there's an 'us,' Satoru."

He raises an eyebrow, stepping even closer, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "Please, y/n, I've seen the way you look at me. You're totally into me."

Your mouth drops open, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up. Sure, he’s absolutely right, you’re head over heels for your handsome and charismatic coworker, but hell, he makes it sound one-sided when that’s so far from the truth.

“Excuse me? You’re the one who’s always staring at me during meetings. It’s creepy."

"Oh, so you notice me staring," he teases, his grin widening. "Admit it, you like it."

"I do not!" you huff in honest annoyance, cheeks burning. "And even if I did, why would I ever admit it to you? Your ego is already big enough to take up the whole room."

Gojo dramatically places a hand over his heart. "Ouch. You wound me, darling. Here I was, thinking we had a good thing going."

You cross your arms and shoot him a glare. "Yeah, well, you're delusional."

Denial will get you nowhere, you’re well aware, but the fact that Gojo is so cocky about it flips a switch inside you which makes consider whether your should jump him or jump him.

He chuckles as he leans in slightly, his face only inches from yours now. "Am I? Or are you just too shy to admit you like me?"

You swallow hard, refusing to back down. "Like you? Please, you're insufferable."

"Insufferable, huh?" he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "Then why haven't you moved away yet?"

Fair point.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Yes, you could have backed up, put some distance between you two, but instead, you’re just rooted in place, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Gojo’s smirk softens.

"You're cute when you're mad, you know that?"

You scoff, though it comes out weaker than intended. "And you're annoying, as always."

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Maybe, but you like me anyway."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can form any sort of response, his lips are on yours, cutting you off with a sudden kiss. For a moment, you freeze in shock, but then, instinct takes over, and you kiss him back. His lips are sweet, soft, and despite the teasing and the banter, the kiss is gentle, almost tender. Gojo's hand embraces your waist and slowly pulls you in, while the other rests on your face, and you can’t help but melt under his touch.

When you finally pull away, both of you are slightly breathless, and his usual cocky grin is replaced with a softer smile.

"See?" he whispers. "Told you it was inevitable."

“You're still insufferable."

"As if it doesn’t turn you on," he teases, leaning in for another kiss.

Outside the storage room, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi exchange their triumphant high-fives.

"Mission accomplished," Nobara whispers.

Yuji nods. “Nicely done, Kugusaki."

Megumi shrugs his shoulders, glad that the whole thing is finally over.

You fell for the oldest trick in the book.