#calm tf down it's not that serious damn

[sky-is-the-limit]

Saw you're accepting asks, so I'm sending this instead of going to therapy! A toxic situationship of mine is now love bombing and gaslighting me into getting back together and despite my better judgment, I'm weak and pathetic enough to be seriously considering it. How would the tf141 react? The tf can be platonic and/or unrequited feelings (readers? Cause lord knows im not loveable but thats to be unpackes another day). Sorry, I'm spiraling 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️🙂‍↕️

How Task Force 141 would react to you considering going back to your toxic situationship:

Captain Price:

John would take a straightforward approach. He’d sit you down with a cup of tea, holding your hand as he tells you, ''You deserve better than this, love. Real men don’t treat women that way.'' He’d remind you of your worth, letting you know that no one with any decency would ever put you through such torment. He’d then mention, almost casually, that he had a word with your situationship earlier when he was about to knock at your door—strongly suggesting the guy won’t be bothering you again if he values his hands.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

The poor guy would struggle with his emotions, finding it hard to stay calm. ''Are you serious? After everything he’s done?'' He’d ask, pacing the room in frustration. He’d urge you to see that there are better men out there, men who’d do anything for you, who would kill and die to be with you—men like him. The words would slip out, revealing more than he intended but he’d be too worked up to care about holding back.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

He wouldn’t hold back his anger. ''I’ll just take him out, then!'' He’d exclaim, half-joking but serious enough to make you worry. He’d rant about how the world would be better off without that guy, throwing out threats left and right. You’d have to calm him down but his reaction would make it clear just how much he cares about you and how serious he is about keeping you away from someone who doesn’t deserve you. If sweet, easygoing Johnny is this furious, maybe it's time that you listen to him.

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Simon wouldn’t hold back. "Have you lost your damn mind?" He’d ask bluntly, not sugar-coating it. He’d lay it all out, questioning what’s left of your self-worth if you go back to that coward. His words would be rough but they’d come from a place of concern, wanting you to see the reality. He wouldn’t just stop at words, though. Later, he'd find the guy and pin him against the wall, spitting out a dark promise, "If you even think of contacting her again, I’ll send you back to your mother in a casket."

Note: You're not weak or pathetic, you're strong enough to realise that you deserve better. Don't take him back, your feelings are not a charity. Find within you the dignity and self-worth that you posses cause no man has the right to make you feel that way. Please, choose yourself for once. Picture the child you once were, they don't deserve this. One day you will be loved so much that even the though of him will make you repulse, that is, if you even remember him. He's not worth your love, you are.

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

leoichi as adoptive parents hcs! | platonic, found family, two goobers and a 'baby'.

they're just dumb and in love. both with each other, and you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

𝒂/𝒏: this is just pure brainrot tbh. shameless self indulgence of these dorks. word vomit that I definitely tried to format in a someday coherent way. ridiculous amount of fluff imho. the embodiment of spongebob's house when it got sucked dry by all them sea worms......whatever tf they were: yeah that's my brain being reduced to mush after FINALLYYYYY getting it all out. /lhj

Say it with me, now. *raises hands like a maestro* Blaaaaaaaame the brainnnnwoorrrrmmmss. 🐛💥🧠

anyway enjoy your ✨fruitbowl parents✨ agenda. ᡣ𐭩

leo 🫐

such. a mother.

always fretting over your health and safety :(( he just wants you to be safe !! happy !! healthy !! always.

big hugger/cuddler: i’m talking big ol’ bear hugs, snuggles, smothering your face in kisses, play-fighting (he makes sure not to hurt you!), head rubs/pats, the whole shabang.

of course, if you’re not comfortable with physical touch– he doesn’t overstep your boundaries!

there are so many different ways he showcases his love and affection to you; he’s a very caring parent.

very protective over you.

not in the prohibiting/constrictive sense, but in the best way that you know he’s always got your back.

both him and yui are fairly protective over you– and both of them always got your back– dgmw, but leo will throw down if your reputation/safety is on the line.

teaches you boundaries (in all aspects including others and yourself) and how to enforce them. gets a bit violent when protecting yours in the moments your boundaries are crossed.

you're his baby and nobody’s allowed to mess w his babies >:((

don’t get me started ✋🏼 on if it’s a.... *speaks cautiously* bullying situation.

NONEEEE OF Y’ALL ARE LEAVING THAT DINGY SCHOOL OFFICE WITHOUT JUSTICE BEING SERVED LMAOOAOOOO

as much as he clowns the aspect of them, leo can be a bit of a karen himself when it comes to your reputation/safety!

(& truthfully i think yui would play peacekeeper of sorts, especially if leo starts getting really heated but that's only if it escalates really badly. but tbh he can be just as intense. they're both always ready to throw down for you, anywhere, anytime.)

real talk: it's not so much the child as it will be the parents leo snarks at. he’s knowledgeable in the fact that behaviors are learned. taught.

while intolerant to any behavioral that bring you discomfort, he's glaring holes into the parental figures/guardians, hackles raised, and Lord above is it more. than enough.

leo – for all the jokester that he is – knows how to hunker down and get serious and boy oh boy does that man get serious when his beloveds are involved.

he is very good at reading people. he has a sharp judge of character. and he'll take up any business with whoever is responsible for your offender's-in-question wellbeing; if their behaviors reflect the hostilities you were met with.... well, there's not really much else to say, is there?

he'll throw down with the parents and he'll throw down wITH THE KID(S) TOO HE DOES NOT GIVE A FRESH DAMN.

girl fu them kids and fu you too energy. /hj

everybody’s getting schooled on this day and it ain’t gonna be by the teachers. 💥💥💥

takes you out for food and sweet treats after such a harrowing ordeal 😮‍💨 is probably still ranting long after they've picked you up from school and has to he calmed down by yui lol. and if you don’t like sweets, he’ll get you a cute little gift from the shops! :)

he just wants to see you smile, man. 💔 anything for you.

later on, back home, he sits you down and speaks to you in a warm, lovely tone. he inquires about anything else that might've gone down, any icky thoughts in that little head of yours..?

reassures you that none of it was your fault. comforts you in every way possible because like i said, leo is very good at reading people. how much more would he get to know you— his child? he knows how to make you feel better. no matter what.

but on the chance that you may have started something.... mmmm.

his parental patented scolding techniques come in. probs the "I'm not mad, just Disappointed." type. AND IT HURTTTTTS EVERY SINGLE TIME.

(but this is Very Rare seeing as he'd raise you with manners and good behavior he don't play none of that mess.)

you don't have to say anything. you can say something, deny it. affirm it. if it bothered you, genuinely, he'll know. if it didn't — he'll know it too.

either way, he ruffles your head and smiles that smile down at you. "you're everything to me. you know that, right?"

you do.

calls you by the cutest endearments in spanish !! the most common are: mijo/a, mi tesoro, mi vida, burbuja/burbujita, and cielo. mi is always a constant at the front of them :')) he's just so proud that you're his kid.

speakin’ of which– if you speak Spanish/pick it up from him, he gets so smiley and giddy :(( and y’all just have convos of silly jokes and sweet nothings that seem like not much out the ordinary in the moment but it's memories in the making and you look back on them and and, he just looks at you with so much fondness and :((( i am so SAD.

sings to you a lot. especially by means of comfort. sure, he'll burst into an impromptu dance and song number that's so ridiculous, so silly, but so entertaining that it's bound to put a smile on your face (his ulterior motives all along muahahahaaa!).

he also sings you lullabies. especially when you have a nightmare that's shaken you badly enough to tears. he's by your side in an instant, shushing you gently, wiping your face and reassuring you that he's there and that he won't let anything hurt you, ever.

movie night cuddles! if you and yui fall asleep before him, he'll adjust so you're all in one big cuddle pile. in the following morning he'll lightheartedly complain about it, but trust me. it's his favorite thing ever. (being curled up and cozy and safe with the two biggest centers of his universe.)

takes you to see your favorite uncles, aunties, and grampa splinter! sometimes he'll sit back and just watch you interact with them, his Proud Dad™ aura threatening to soften him and everyone in his closest vicinity to mush, and only snaps out of it when met with a teasing quip from one of his siblings.

casey is the cool nomad older brother/uncle figure who visits every so often and he's just, so exceedingly cool to you. he brings you souvenirs from his travels and spends a lot of quality time with you - y'all's relationship is lighthearted and fun loving!

—and leo cries because his kids omg his- their kids are so stinkin cute and wholesome and yui yui,,they really built themselves their castle on the hill didn't they omgomgomgomg guaaaaueueueuueue *cue rabbit paw shoulder pats of support*

because of leo's insomnia, he's your constant nighttime company. on the nights where sleep just doesn't come so easily, you can count to find him lounging about in the house somewhere. he'll fret gently if he sees you awake at an ungodly hour, but ultimately welcomes you with open arms.

▹▹ p. s. his chest is a prime cuddle-hug-back-to-sleep haven. with his deep churrs, one large hand rubbing comfortingly over your back, the warmth that creates coupled with the natural coolness from his body - it'll have you out like a light. worked when you were younger, works now. always will.

always the jokester, sooososo many jokes and lighthearted teasing with this guy. of course we know his jokes are insufferably constant (what? he's a dad now! he can ACTUALLY USE DAD JOKES AND THEY'LL ACTUALLY HIT HOME!!), but get this: the teasing - while good-natured - comes with the afterthought of teaching you subconsciously to hold your ground. it's his way of "raising you tough."

howbeit: if you're naturally sensitive, leo will protect it with all he's got. reassures you that sensitivity does not equal weakness and gets his esteemed example to deepen those teachings!

(( "look at uncle angie!! he cried over the fact that snakes don't have any arms yesterday. (/ref + /lh) and he's one of the strongest in our hamato-usagi battalion!"

"why would you say tone indicators out loud, papa?" ))

it's just— the world can be a dark and unforgiving place, with even darker and more unforgiving people.

as much as it pains him, he knows him and yuichi aren't always going to be there to protect you from every little thing. forever seems like it right now, but you still have so much growing to do.

he wants to make sure you'll be able to hold your own. not only physically, but emotionally/verbally.

the principles and lessons he teaches you are tidbits of gold that shape your mind and future and you carry them with you for a long time to come, whether you know it or not.

to conclude this- trust. you definitely know how to fight. at the very most defend yourself and others if need be !! i mean c'mon: you're the heir to a ninja and a samurai ! you know how to throw a punch just as well as you can parry it.

while they teach you the core value of never starting the fight and walking away to deescalate, they also teach you to kick names and take ass. (/ref) ain't nobody messin' with you, champ. 😎

—and if they do? they have a wholeeee clan to deal with now. because anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with all of your family — both sides.

in living out their motto, anata wo hitori janai, with you — he seems to relearn it in a special way each and every time.

and he wouldn't have it any other way. <3

yuichi 🍇

doesn’t always use pet names, but he says your name so fondly all the time – just beholds you like you’re the absolute treasure of his life (which you basically are tbh) – it feels like an endearment all its own.

your gentle force: he’s the one you turn to when everything gets too loud, too harsh, too overwhelming, too much.

y’all are mad in tune; all it takes is one look (not specifically in the eyes).

he’d pull you close. his fur is warm, soft, smells like tea leaves and incense and home.

given the situation – if you wanted silence, that’s what he’d give you.

if you needed something other than the ringing in your ears, something other than your mind, he hums.

he hums, pets your head, rocks you back and forth – right there in his lap. (you’ll never be too big, too old, for them to hold you.)

if you don't prefer being held, he'll give you your space. rest assured, he's respectful just like leo and doesn't ever want to make you uncomfortable. but he does stay close. if you ever need him, he'll always be close by.

even if you guys don't talk, it's just reassuring having his presence close by. to know you're not (and never will be) alone.

he holds you .... in a different way. 🥹

if you need words, he tells you every little thing he loves about you. tells you why you’re his.

he tells you how he admires you– not only as his child, but as an individual.

he reminds you that you will always have a place in his heart, nestled right between leo.

for all his harebrained-ness (see what i did there? *wheeze, knee slap*) – there’s no second-guessing his intense fondness for you. alongside leo, you're his heart and he moves in it every single day.

his friends are all your godparents.

now hear me out: yes, they could all be your aunties/uncles, and in a way they are!!

i mean, that's what you call them sometimes too! but gen, chisa and kitsune are his platonic soulmates. they just... locked in. 🔐🫂

so they're all just that little bit closer than your standard "auntie" and "uncle." ❤️‍🩹

they're your favorite babysitters. on yuichi's side of the family, anyway!

yui is a bit of a klutz, but somehow. he always. manages. to catch you. before you fall. before you even have the chance to trip up!

chalk it up to his samurai honed skills, his training paying off, his newfound parental instincts, a whirlwind of all three! he will gladly fall ass over kettle because he'll be damned if you're at risk to gain a scratch or two on his watch.

onlookers would suspect that leo is the more "involved" parent between them both, but that's a load of crock.

be it because yui's aura isn't as imposing as his beloved turtle counterpart that leads to this train of thought or not, it couldn't be farther from the truth! yui is the one who's constantly hovering (/pos).

he moves seamlessly, as natural as air, through the movements of your life that sometimes... it can almost seem like he isn't there. but like air, you know he's there, and you reap the benefits every single day.

cuddles with him are supreme as well! he's fluffy and warm. his embrace just speaks volumes of safety and familiarity.

every time you're near him you feel a little sleepy because it's so warm and safe :(( especially if you're not feeling too good! when you're feeling under the weather, he's the first you subconsciously seek out :'((((((

makes sure you're getting your food groups every single day. fruit and veggie platters, afternoons spent in the garden outside of your home, sunshine and the smell of fresh soil and sliced cucumbers are what made your childhood summers just that more magical.

scolds leo if he feeds you too much junk loll.

yuichi is like your vitamin, both figuratively and literally. he's learned so much from growing up on the farm with his grandmother, natural remedies are his forte.

in this additional sense, he teaches you farm work. four times out of ten, it ends in disaster, maybe or maybe not including a massacred watermelon grove, but through trial and error, you've managed to keep a good portion of accurate agriculture and gardening knowledge ingrained in the long-term area of your brain. 🙏🏼

gets nervous when you go out :(( he's of course happy that you get your freedom, but he can't help but to feel antsy whenever you're out of he and leo's sights; it's not that he doesn't trust you, he's just a worrywart /aff.

so! without fail, each time: before you go out, he'll kneel down to gently bonk foreheads with you, closes his eyes, and speaks an old Japanese blessing of safety and wellbeing over you. something he learned from his grandmother.

whereas leo is ecstatic to teach you the way of the sword (and is methodical with it too dw), yuichi may as well faint himself into a coma each time.

he gets much better when you're older, of course, even teaches you himself. but when you were younger? heeeheesh.... nobody. will forget the incident at the 6th Birthday Party Swordsmanship Knighthood Round Table Esk Extravaganza.

(fake blood was involved. a lighthearted prank gone wrong amidst the already electric atmosphere of cake and fun. a prank gone hard hearted, if you will. yuichi fainted twice, vomited once, and catapulted leo out of a window. the pigs got out of the pen. the koi fish were fished out of the pond. law enforcement was contacted. donnie's confetti canons backfired at one point. you guys are still finding glitter in random spots in the house to this day. it was madness.)

takes you on hikes and new adventures! you guys are always getting into something, whether it's discovering a new shadow dancing group in town's square or accidentally liberating a herd of cattle from a neighboring farmhouse auction, these make the best memories with him. because he exuded glee and held you close the entire time.

in calm moments, yui would recount tales of his ancestors to you. especially that of his great great grandfather (?? how many greats were there I'm sorry ajshdjd) - while you look up at him in wonder.

and in moments when you're not looking- he looks at you in wonder too. a wonder that only a parent could hold for their beloved child.

—

your dads sing to you. they both do that a lot, actually.

i imagine you get so used to hearing a little croon here, a gentle hum there … so much so that pure radio silence settles discomfort in your bones. there was always something.

even the little things that nudge you a reminder in the subconscious voices of your parents: you're here, you're alive, we're here for you, we'll always be here for you, i love you.

their songs make your outlook on life a little lighter. something more melodic. like the songs they sing you.

home becomes a song to you, unconsciously.

if someone were to ask you to define home to you . . .

it’s the bone-crushing hugs of your turtle dad. the deep, all-encompassing warmth. the smell of tea leaves, incense, bamboo wood – the sound of soft laughter, sing-songy words, horrendous dad jokes and endless puns. the constant words of affirmation that pick you up in your lowest moments and raise you even higher at your best. the gentle forehead bonks. both: sci-fi comics series and legends of samurai and ninja alike as wondrous bedtime stories. warm eyes, even warmer hands grasping yours. reassurance. safety. the love of your family.

love incarnate.

storge.

home is love. love is home.

—

with parents like them,

you will never go hungry.

you will never cry nor be alone.

you will never fight with nobody by your side. 

you will never be unwanted.

you will never sing songs of your sorrow without it being sunrisen by joy.

you will never, ever go unloved.

you're the brightest light in their lives and they make sure you know it, every single day! 🌟

© ziipzeepzop-eez all reservations apply.

[yanderecrazysie]

Resistance (Yandere Hinata)

A request from my Quotev!

This reads a little like a crack fic but I swear it’s serious adsgfdf

Title: Resistance

Pairings: Hinata x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, minor violence, forced cuddling, Hinata calm tf down

Summary: Hinata wants to cuddle and enjoy the day with his favorite person! You don’t.

resistance

/noun/

the refusal to accept or comply with something; the attempt to prevent something by action or argument.

“(Y/n)! Where are you?”

Hinata’s voice comes out in a loud whine, as though he’s truly disappointed by your defiance.

He expected you to greet him in the evening, when he came back from volleyball practice or a big game. He expected you to watch his games on TV and tell him how amazing his spikes were when he walked through that damned front door.

As if.

You weren’t the type to hide from your captor, your attitude even more fiery than the color of his hair. Today though? You didn’t feel like dealing with his suffocating hugs and constant cuddling. His team had lost their game today and you had no intention of being some sort of comfort doll for him to cling onto and drag around the house every time he had to move.

You could hear him opening cabinets in the kitchen and almost laughed when you pictured yourself trying to fit in those tiny little drawers. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, to put it lightly.

“(Y/n)!” He was calling for you now, voice edged with worry. If he thought you’d escaped, he was, unfortunately, mistaken. There was no way to get out of a house so expertly locked like this one.

You sat on your shared bed, waiting for him to finally get a clue and check the bedroom. You may not put any effort in hiding, but you weren’t going down without a fight. Not if your handy broomstick had a say.

Plus, if this failed, he’d take away the brooms and you wouldn’t be expected to pick up that “chore” anymore. Fuck sweeping.

Steps on the stairs. You got to your feet and bristled, knuckles paling as you gripped the broom handle so tight you were concerned it might snap in half.

The bedroom door creaked open just a crack, Hinata’s dark eyes peeking through to see if you were hiding inside. You raised the broom with a war cry and charged.

SLAM.

The broom hit the now-closed door fruitlessly and you let out a frustrated screech.

“(Y/n), it’s okay, it’s just me!” If Hinata thought those words were soothing, he was sorely mistaken.

“Go away!”

Silence for just a moment, before, “Are you on your period?”

“Shut the fuck up!” You screamed, pure fury driving you to whack the broom against the closed door a few times in childish response. Hinata only sighed in response.

You knew he was stuck- he couldn’t come inside or you’d bash his head in, but he also had zero patience. He’d probably wait a while before trying to take you by surprise…

 You flung the door open and ambushed him with another war screech. His eyes widened in surprise, but he sidestepped you easily and grabbed the handle of the broom as it slammed down where he’d once been.

The two of you tugged on either side of the broom with all of your strengths, but it was clear from the beginning that Hinata, the trained athlete, was going to win this round. You let go suddenly, causing him to fall backwards onto the ground, still clutching the broom.

You thought you were above hiding, but desperate times do call for desperate measures.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you clamor down the stairs, Hinata’s cries for you to stop muffled by your panic-filled thoughts. The house you’d stayed in for nearly a year now was suddenly unfamiliar and much too big and small at the same time. You felt woozy.

His footsteps are heavy on the floorboards behind you, but you couldn’t stop running if you wanted to. You don’t want to be a prisoner anymore, but, if you can’t escape this house, maybe you could escape his smothering affection for just one day.

There will come a time when you’ll be too tired to outrun him, but, thankfully, it’s not now.

[venusjaynie]

stranger things social media au part 3

this is eddie's party (which he threw at steve's house) and the aftermath of it !

cw: mentions of alcohol consumption and hangovers. steve being a jealous little shit in the comments

series masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

b.hargrove

Liked by nanceewheeler, heather_helloway, itsbuckleybitch and others.

b.hargrove: omw to harringtons to reclaim my crown as keg king

View comments.

johnnybyers: broooooo why is tommy hagan staring at your ass

↳ b.hargrove: no why are you actually right

↳ johnnybyers: lowkey sus

↳ y/ns.priv24: calm down among us

stevie.h: watch yourself hargrove. coming for your crown fr

↳ b.hargrove: id like to see you try harrington

↳ y/ns.priv24: stop flirting with my boyfriend bitch

↳ b.hargrove: HOW IS THAT FLIRTING

y/ns.priv24

Liked by nanceewheeler, johnnybyers, willthewise and others.

y/ns.priv24: beer pong but make it cider (cause nancy and i hate beer and the boys would clearly do anything for us including changing their favourite game)

View comments.

johnnybyers: the things we do for you girls

↳ y/ns.priv24: you love us

↳ johnnybyers: only sometimes

thefreakmunson: it was worth it cause i got to see you drunk off of 3 ciders

↳ y/ns.priv24: and 2 vodka lemonades

↳ stevie.h: and 2 tequila sunrises. c'mon munson keep up

↳ thefreakmunson: sure sure

willthewise: i'm telling mom you got drunk. she's gonna kill you

↳ y/ns.priv24: sorry kid that doesn't apply to me now that i'm 21

↳ willthewise: oh yeah. damn

b.hargrove: never changing the rules of beer pong for you guys ever again. find your own drinking game

↳ thefreakmunson: if you don't like the new game throw your own party then hargrove

↳ b.hargrove: shut up

stevie.h

Liked by y/ns.priv24, thefreakmunson, argyledude and others.

stevie.h: reckon i've got enough jello shots?

View comments.

y/ns.priv24: i call every single green one.

↳ stevie.h: baby youre such a lightweight youll be hammered after 3

↳ y/ns.priv24: i didnt ask?

↳ stevie.h: so petty

↳ y/ns.priv24: you love it

↳ itsbuckleybitch: get a room lovebirds

nanceewheeler

Liked by johnnybyers, thefreakmunson, itsbuckleybitch and others.

nanceewheeler: me and j xx

View comments.

y/ns.priv24: i think i deserve some credit for these amazing photography skills

↳ nanceewheeler: we appreciate your fantastic photo skills

↳ johnnybyers: nance is right. thank you for being amazing at photography (after i showed you the ropes) baby sis

↳ y/ns.priv24: youre more than welcome big brother

itsbuckleybitch: cuties

↳ nanceewheeler: ily

willthewise: jonathan you look drunk in this hahaha

↳ johnnybyers: hahahaha youre right

↳ argyledude: "look" sure thing bro

↳ y/ns.priv24: argyle when tf did you get insta

↳ argyledude: ive always had it. just prefer to stalk than to comment baby byers

↳ y/ns.priv24: valid. also will is baby byers

↳ argyledude: oh shit yeah you're right

itsbuckleybitch

Liked by b.hargrove, stevie.h, y/ns.priv24 and others.

itsbuckleybitch: these wimps should be grateful that they're friends with me and y/n cause eddie bought 2 six packs and thought it would be enough for everyone

View comments.

y/ns.priv24: me and rob supplying the good stuff (aka vodka) as per

↳ itsbuckleybitch: what would they do without us and my ID honestly

thefreakmunson: shut up guys i bought 3 six packs. that's 18 beers

↳ itsbuckleybitch: thank you for doing the math for me. i'm afraid i would've struggled if you didnt

↳ thefreakmunson: fuck you

madmaxx: can you save me some pls

↳ y/ns.priv24: yeah but don't tell billy

↳ b.hargrove: byers i swear to god if you give my little sister vodka ill kill you.

↳ y/ns.priv24: "little sister" aw you never call her that

↳ b.hargrove: i'm serious. do not give that kid vodka.

↳ y/ns.priv24: billy obviously i'm not going to give your sister vodka. that would be ridiculous (sorry max)

↳ madmaxx: ugh billy you're so annoying

---------------------------------

the aftermath

---------------------------------

itsbuckleybitch

Liked by y/ns.priv24, b.hargrove, itsbuckleybitch and others.

itsbuckleybitch: he woke up looking like this

View comments.

y/ns.priv: lookin sexy as ever baby

↳ stevie.h: youre so wrong for taking this pic

b.hargrove: man that keg challenge really took you out

↳ stevie.h: i know

thefreakmunson: jesus you're hanging wtf you only did the keg challenge

↳ stevie.h: have you ever done the keg challenge??

↳ thefreakmunson: not necessarily no but i know 2 people who have

↳ y/ns.priv24: i think you mean 3?? me steve and billy??

↳ thefreakmunson: HA you haven't done it don't play w me you don't even like beer

↳ b.hargrove: nah man she has. it's terrifying. she beat my record first try

↳ thefreakmunson: 😧

y/ns.priv24

Liked by nanceewheeler, itsbuckleybitch, willthewise and others.

y/ns.priv24: much needed hangover cuddles from nance

View comments.

nanceewheeler: i'm always here for hungover cuddles 🫶🫶

↳ y/ns.priv24: love you

stevie.h: where's my hangover cuddle :(

↳ thefreakmunson: "where ma hug at 🥺"

↳ y/ns.priv24: EDDIE LMFAO

↳ stevie.h: 😐

b.hargrove

liked by stevie.h, thefreakmunson, nanceewheeler and others.

b.hargrove: me and y/n on the mandatory hangover cure coffee run

View comments.

itsbuckleybitch: i better get my venti vanilla iced latte

↳ y/ns.priv24: dw bbg it's otw

↳ stevie.h: 'bbg' go fuck yourself what do you think this is

↳ b.hargrove: god someones jealous

↳ y/ns.priv24: sorry stevie. i can call you bbg if you want ;)

↳ itsbuckleybitch: yeah no lets not

thefreakmunson

thefreakmunson: shut the fucking blinds

View comments.

nanceewheeler: you could also just sleep somewhere else?

↳ thefreakmunson: i wish i could, but i cant. well... can but... wont. should, maybe, but... shornt...

↳ johnnybyers: wtf are you even saying

↳ thefreakmunson: what part of shornt dont you understand

↳ y/ns.priv24: yeah you no longer have netflix priveliges

↳ thefreakmunson: NO

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ugh these are so fun to make

[jinxsmandalorianmalewife]

Okay here is part two….SOOOO SORRY ITS LATE!!!

Warnings: Angst, Death, loss of loved one.

Note: I tried my best to fix any mistakes on this one

Title: loving the snow queen is a losing game….part 2 ;)

That moment….that’s all you could think about….you wanted to know if she was okay….then you woke up. Pain was the first thing you felt, both from your head….and worries. The room was a guest room in the palace you figured Anna had someone put you in this room after you knocked yourself out on the hard frozen lake. All you could do was just sigh in emptiness. You looked out the window and saw that Summer had turned into Winter over night. Then the door opened and look who it was Anna she was relieved to see you awake. “Oh thank god your awake!” Anna said giving you a hug “How do you feel?” She asked you. “I feel….okay….” You said to her “though I do have a headache but nothing I can’t tolerate…” Anna nodded her head. She knew you were a tough but sweet cookie (NOT A SHIP!) you slowly got out of bed you were in your undergarments. Luckily a fresh pair of warm clothes was waiting for you on a table Anna left the room to let you change. Once you got dressed you opened the door and exited the guest room Anna was waiting for you. “You good to go?” She asked you. You simply nodded your head and off to the cold streets of Arendelle. Once you were outside Soldiers, guards, civilians, and nobles were all wondering how tf did it become so god Damn cold af outside?!?! Hanz was helping with getting everything warm food, blankets, and help as much as he could. Him and Anna were talking and while you helped out then you heard a certain noble weasel speak “It’s freezing out hear. That Damn sorceress!” That got your blood boiling so you spoke up like any good friend would do (Totally not because you simping for Elsa or anything) “Hey leave Elsa alone! She didn’t mean for any of this to happen!” You said in a aggressive manner “Why are you defending that Witch?!?! She nearly killed me!!” You did not give a single fuck “Well it gives you no right to call her any of those things!” “Well idc what a commoner like you thinks!” You wanted to punch him “Besides look around you! She’s cursed us!” You should punch him “Why are you even defending her Huh?!?! Are you in liege with her? Are you witch/wizard?!?” You really should punch him “Are you a monster just like her-“ you punched him…..really….really…..really…..Really….REALLY….REALLY…….good which launched him a couple feet away from you. “How dare you strike me!?!! I-I’ll shall have you punished for this!!!” “ENOUGH!” Anna shouted “That’s enough!….” She said in a serious tone “Listen I accidentally caused this I pushed her too far so I’m gonna go find her” Anna spoke which made everyone gasp in surprise. “Anna wait no you can’t it’s too dangerous” Hanz spoke with (fake) concern “Hanz I can take of myself besides she’s my sister she’d never hurt me” Anna said trying to defend her sister in a way “How can we trust you Hmmmm? what if your a witch too?!?!” The noble weasel spoke with only fuelled your dislike for him “Call her a witch one more time and I swear!” You spoke with fury. “Y/N calm down” Anna said to you while standing between you and that weasel “Anna please you can’t go it’s not safe!” Hanz spoke “She’s not going alone” You said loudly “I’m coming with her”. “Y/N you can’t idk if Elsa will hurt you or not” Anna spoke with concern “Anna you know that I know those woods like the back of my hand besides Elsa was my best friend so I’m going to find her whether you like or not” you spoke the truth Anna knew for a fact that you knew those woods very very well and you knew how to handle yourself. “**Sigh** okay fine your right” she said in defeat, she turns towards a guard and asks for her horse “Anna wait!” Hanz grabs her hand as she gets on the horse “Be careful…” he said “I will” she said in a promising tone. “Don’t worry lover boy I’ll keep her safe” you said to Hanz with a laugh and a teasing smirk and tone “Anna we should stop at my house I need to grab some things” you said to her “Alrighty then” you and her went back to your place. You got all the things you needed and went out into the now Frozen wilderness with a mission to find Elsa, stop this eternal Winter and bring her home.

[loredependant]

I don't have a Shiver boner or anything I just like the color blue 😭

The energy of this splatfest is not amazing

I haven't run into too many problems that aren't a problem in the normal game(like people spawn camping) but gods be damned people calm tf down it ain't that serious if Shiver, Big Man or Frye wins

It ain't even like you get extra rewards for being on the winning team 😭

It just ain't appreciated for people to harass other people(mostly seen on twitter... """X""" ) over your fictional blorbo winning or losing a nonsense event

[seokjinnieswife007]

🥹FiNaLLy🥹

I got some actual free time 😮‍💨 from my fcked up schedule so that i can finally express my emotions on how crazy 🤯 I've been bcz of the kdramas these days like they're all so .........

🤌🏼 G O O D🤌🏼

Like each and every show I'm watching is just straight up impressing me on a SERIOUS LEVEL.👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

Like an absolute W O W ✨

So I'm watching 3 shows consecutively

King the land 🏩

See you in my 19th life ⏳

Bloodhounds 🥊

GOSH my mental peace has gone to hell because of these three. Like they're just chef's kiss🤌🏼

✨🫶🏼✨🫶🏼✨🫶🏼✨🫶🏼✨🫶🏼✨🫶🏼✨🫶🏼✨

Firstly coming to the rom-com of the year ......

💗🏩KTL🏩💗

This show single-handedly ended me.

💕💞💖💓💕💞💖💓💞💖

Like after watching the 5th and 6th epi i realised that I crave romance so so much. Like literally I'm such a sucker for ROMANCE 💒🫶🏼

💖💗💓 💞💗💞💖💖💞💖

Guwon is 🥹 so in 💓 L O V E 💓 with sarang and he's not even hiding it. He's Just straight out going for it. That's my man! 🥹👏🏼😍

His microexpressions make me feel something something. I mean... Just look at him 😫😫

I am completing a 1hr epi in 2 hrs because of the serious dose of SEROTONIN they give me .like gosh calm tf down. I actually need 5 minutes to process your lovey-dovey-ness after every scene. i mean We *single since birth* kinda ppl may actually get diabetes cuz of your sweetness 😤😫💓💞💖💗💓💕💞

Guwon is such a pure Loverboy and that too a BIG BIG LOSER IN LOVE. And I love losers. I've said it a million times .

🫶🏼❤️Losers are my favourite lovers❤️🫶🏼

But you need to seriously calm down. Like stop being so adorable. It's very very very problematic. I can't stop blushing all the time. I have to pause at every scene to dig my face into my pillow cuz I can't handle the sweetness. STOP with all this honey dripping eyes. Or DO THAT TO ME AS WELL 😤😤

Secondly,

My utterly precious and beloved 🫶🏼🥹.....

🪄SYIM19L🪄

This show is purely....

✨Magicall✨

I'm a simp for seoha but I just want ban jieum to look at me the way she looks at seoha 🥹 like....

Sis is so so so PRETTY and charming I'm literally questioning my sexuality because of her 😖😖😖😖

Also my precious Seoha 🥹🫶🏼😖🫶🏼🥹🫶🏼🥹🫶🏼

My babieeeeee my cutie I wanna wrap you in my arms and shower you with endless kisses my love🥹💗💕

I knew This show was beautiful but after seeing the dance sequence. I'm just so touched 🥹🥹

Like look at their smiles 😖❤️

God please make my these two beloved the happiest 🥹🫶🏼🤌🏼💞💗💕

And lastly.....

coming to the show I WAS DYING TO WATCHHHH SINCE IT CAME OUT. BUT I wasn't finding time 😖😖

🥊🔥🥊🔥🥊

BLOODHOUNDS

🥊🔥🥊🔥🥊

This show is fkin HAWTTTTTTT 🫦🤌🏼

Oh My GAWDD 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Like it's total worth it. I'm still half-way but THIS IS IT.

🤌🏼igojiiiiii🤌🏼

It is so damn thrilling and gripping Istg if I had time I had finished this show in one sitting or two. Every episode finishes so fast even tho it is 1 hr each. Still you can't figure out how the time is ticking so fast!!!!!!.. every episode ends in cliffhanger makes you wanna SCREAMMMMMMMMMM. also the plot is

TOO GOOD 🙌🏼👏🏼

The plot in question 😗-

Like who doesn't like hotties. WE CRAVE FOR HOTTIES BUT WHEN YOU GET NOT ONE BUT HOTTIES IN SHOW. AND THAT TOO BFFS. WOW.

This is like cherry on cake with icing and sprinkles 🤤

ALSO THEIR BROMANCE IS INSANNNEEEEEEEEE I'M IN LOVE WITH THEM . GOD PROTECT THEM AT ALL COSTSSSS 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

My cuties🥹💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕.

We kdrama fans are well fed with such great content. And I can't be more happy because shows like these are like rainbow in my bland life 🥹💗✨

[mxstyk13]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SPOILERS !!

i love coming on here and blabbing ab shows and movies i just got done watching its so fun lmaoooo

okay no but fr. this WILL be all over the place. alicent in her younger years always looked so depressed and honestly i get it. everytime her and her damn dad interacted i felt so bad for her, like he rlly only gaf ab the throne huh :/. daemon trying to get w rhaenyra sexually as her uncle 🫥 i know its like the 14th century but DAMN. also, the first time skip had me flabbergasted what do u MEAN alicent is pregnant? 🤨 shoulda known sir criston was an insane mf when he got caught for having intercourse w rhaenyra and his first thought was genuinely and srsly “kill me, i deserve it” and then proceeded to try and kill himself, i shoulda fuckin knew. i know they took their oaths seriously but calm down buddy. and i was so sadddd when laenor’s lover boy got killed. again, shoulda known criston was gonna snap when TWO mfs in one day confronted him ab that indecency lmaoooo and my god, GOT and HOD do not gaf ab showing gore my god MY GOD.

what else? alicent got on my absolute nerve in her later years. i know she was just trying to perform the duty and role she was forced into but can u blame me? 😔 and can i just say, that whole house pisses me off? everyone is like off their rocker. the hand aka her father, sir criston, that man with the limp, alicent herself, ALL her damn children except her daughter 😭 aegon but ESPECIALLY aemond show me serious potential to be joffrey 2.0s. nuh uhhhhh

when visery’s, in his sickly state, went above and beyond to make sure the court saw that he wanted her to be heir still and hers would inherit :’) still confused why on his last breath he changed his mind but i digress. daemon is so fine until he show that stinky personality, same for aemond like mannnnnn. sometimes i could forget daemon was truly a d*ck when i focused on that long hair and beautiful face and the kindness he showed sometimes but forever would he remind me 💀 ALSO AYYYYYY love seeinf rhaenyra as queen. and dare i say love it when she ordered men around, what can i sayyyyy what can i sayyyyyy lmaoooo EXAMPLE: how daemon was ab to fight the hand and she simply said no and he put that sword down. i never knew i enjoyed that sm until now, like u better listen. im a lesbian but that enjoyment does not discriminate. AND AHHHHHH SICKENING SICK SICK- when lucerys’ (?) dragon got tore apart and possibly him along with it….. i wanted to be happy when he made it to the clearing but i knew GOT liked to play mind games and i was right. :| i wanna believe he’s alive but, at the end, daemon told rhaenyra ab it. which makes me wonder, how did he know before anyone else? unless he came across his body or personally saw it himself. but then again, idk. but yea. this show had me stressed tf out. i need s2 ASAP RN

[kyluxtrashpit]

No morals just memes anon returns. I looked up that show and yeah. You’re right. Assholes trying to take each other out for their own separate goals is about right.

We are currently in Trickster Woman’s panic room. Why? Because the reason Crime Spree is running for office is to keep that psychopath from winning. He doesn’t even want the title. None of them necessarily want to rule.

But yeah, they found out what Meme Lord did. Or assumed. Currently a few of them are wrecking the place. It’s hard to tell currently but about an hour ago, Meme Lord got *serious*.

And as rude as I find it that they would call her the reaper or death (again kinda funny but also pretty messed up story). I kinda see it now. Or saw it as she left. Like, took the chains off her pants that hold the office and safe key and stalked out completely silently. Considering the hollow tile floor, and the fact that she’s in heels, it was a little unsettling.

Crime Spree is next to me praying. He said, “she doesn’t need my help, I’ll just be in her way, and I don’t want to see this”

I get the distinct feeling we’ll be fine. But holy fuck she’s scary. Trickster woman is driving back from out of town as we speak.

I really hate the thought that popped up. The implication there that Meme Lord makes all that noise for our benefit is unsettling. But I’ve definitely been snuck up on before.

(Part 2: No morals just memes anon wants to clarify that everything went fine yesterday.

Huge misunderstanding. We thought we were the only ones supposed to be there. Turns out she rents this place out as an air b and b when she’s out of town and forgot to tell us to be out by 5.

So they thought we were robbing the place and were trying to chase us out.

Came downstairs after a god damn hour to cayenne pepper all over the floor a bunch of very embarrassed looking folk at the table and Meme Lord helping a random dude rinse his eyes out with milk.

This one may have been my fault as I’m the one who connected the wrong dots and freaked everyone out😅)

(Part 3: No morals just memes anon here. Not only is Meme Lord not a demon. She is literally a fucking saint.

I honestly went right home and to bed from the embarrassment. I really should have stayed and fixed my own mess.

But anyways, this woman literally after helping this guy rinse his eyes out, sat with them and booked them a proper hotel and paid for it.

This us after the guy rushed her with a bar stool and she literally threw the first thing she grabbed at him. Which was the cayenne.

She was pretty sure if they were robbing the place, they’d be gone by then, and was just double checking before telling us to calm tf down.

He attacked her because if we were robbing the place, they were gonna get charged for it.

We are all idiots on this fine day)

OMG first off sorry for the late response, apparently I turned off my ask email notifications at some point somehow. ANYWAY. This story is both insane and hilarious lmao. Glad everything worked out okay cause WOOF, definitely scary for both sides of the equation here (except maybe Meme Lord. Not sure she feels fear skskdks). Although friend, you are DEFINITELY living in a tv show or something lmfao

[air-signs-with-ne-and-mono-teams]

Monster Hunter Stories Talk

♊ENFP: you know what, I might try that stupid game today...

♎ENTP: *gives a bit of a verbal rundown* you know, it's pretty decent when you look into it, like ok, I understand Pokemon does have a lot of lore etc, but it's a lot more subtle and the base story of each game is still practically the same, and mostly the ones that stand out are gens 4 & 5, POSSIBLY gen 3?, but MHST kills it in that department, especially compared to all other monster RPGs including Pokemon.

♊ENFP: *kinda glitching a bit* so like, does it have a story?

♎ENTP: *drops ladle in the sink and puts hand on the hip* 😑

♒INTP: *snorts iced tea*

♊ENFP: WHAT? WHAT DID I SAY?

♎ENTP: *sarcastically*

NOOOOOooooOoooOoOoO it's not like the game's TITLE is idk..... Monster Hunter STORIES. FUCKING STORIES. Not "Monster Hunter Almost Stories"

♒INTP: you know, some people in the fandom do make that argument 💀, maybe they'll think that should be the game's nam-

♎ENTP: *cuts INTP off fast* I need you to STFU RIGHT. NOW.

♒INTP: 💀💀💀 damn so serious about Monster Hunter Pokemon version like calm down lmao

♎ENTP: ._.

♊ENFP: ALRIGHT I GET IT, I do feel stupid now, of course, it's in the name, but like also, is it really mostly story based?

♎ENTP: *eye spasm*

♒INTP: *snort laughs*

♎ENTP: *sigh* obviously gameplay is a huge part of the game as well, but yes, there is a very prominent story on both games, granted, #1 had a lot more to go of than #2 but #2 wasn't really as bad as people make it out to be

♒INTP: *does the "eh" hand sign at ENFP*

♎ENTP: istg I will cut you, I'm washing the knives now 😐

♒INTP: *sarcastic gasp* oh no 😱 um anyway 💀

♊ENFP: *looks to the side concerned* nvm I'll play Pokemon

♎ENTP: *sighs in defeat over the sink*

♒INTP: *smirks*

♎ENTP: it's one of your favorite franchises what tf are you smirking about?

♒INTP: you look funny when you're mad 💀

♎ENTP: 😒

♊ENFP: look if it's really that good, I'll give it a try next week sounds good?

♎ENTP: I mean it's not like I'm forcing you 😒

♊ENFP: well yeah, you're right, you're not forcing me soooo...

♎ENTP: alright, but use my switch account so you can get the shit I already paid for at the store

[mikes81vw]

I hate dealing with certain customers. Today some little shit tried to get all loud with me. All I did was ask for something and he's like "don't rush me." I was like wtf. I told to him "calm down. No ones rushing you." Then the fuck is like "im a grown as man!" Dude look like he just got out 4th period. Seriously wtf lol kept going back and forth and then he's like "if I see you outside Im going fuck you up." Made me laugh a little lol I told him "you're not doing anything. Straight up. You ain't doing shit, trust me" then he starts to leave.. And out of no where he grabs his bike from the side and only made me realize it wasn't that serious lol i literally laughed in his face like "dude you're riding a bike. Tf you over here talking shit for." Wtf is wrong with people?? Like seriously this is how fucken people are now?? Short fuse as fuck with no damn respect.

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@daimyosprincess Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch [affectionately].

You know I love filth but I wanna highlight the best parts that I adored in this read because omg, girl why you gotta all me out with so much old man knee and old man references like, babeeeeeeeeeeeeee I die, okay? ILY ♥

So. Okay.

I really love the intro mainly because it tempers your mood to calm tf down before the dicking starts happening, you know? I also love, LOVE, the ex-boyfriend detail because it's such a nice treat to always see certain variation of how things unfold. Because you could have just written straight up flirty reader and Boba and we're set, but I'm really a sucker for side stories or however you want to call it.

I love the smut, so much. So damn much. But I just wanna point out these two really sweet side story/origin story something whatever treats for me ♥

Another banger, Zwei ♥

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings.

This is such an adorable concept for an introduction because I wouldn't have thought it was gonna happen at the parents' place. That's such an original thought and super cute. Eep! I love this!

The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least.

What a fuckin' dick. SO PROUD OF YOU MY BOYS. MAKE THAT GIRL WET.

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

Move over, Bob the fucking builder. Boba's in town. ♥

you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

If you ain't looking this delectable, what tf is you doing with your life, sissy? ♥ Baby girl knows what's up!

The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Zweiiiii, STOP CALLING US OUT THIS EARLYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 

This is making me laugh so ungodly because I swear. I fucking SWEAR. This is everyone reading every Boba Fett fic. He be doing the silliest, stupidiest shit, it's IRRELEVANT.

Boba can literally fuck up my house, shoot me with a nailgun, or even overcharge me for not doing shit. As long as I'm getting dicked tonight, is all good bby ♥

I SHOULDN'T BE SAYING THIS BECAUSE THE JANGO ON MY SHOULDER DISAPPROVES. BUT MY GOD, IS THIS SO DAMN RELATBEL BESTIE LIKE SHIT, U IS RIGHTEOUS MY SISTER IN CHRIST.

Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

MY GIRL.

Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

I AM TAKING THIS PERSONALLY BECAUSE I HAVE A THING FOR KNEES OKAY. IF BOBA CLENCHES HIS JAW ALL SO SUGGESTIVELY THEN I WILL TAKE THIS AS PERMISSION SLIP TO BE HO OVER PLO KOON'S KNEES WHEN HE SITS WITH HIS KNEES APART OKAY. OKAY. YES. THEM JAWS. YUMYUM.

“See something you like, princess?”

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so.

I REPEAT. BOBA IS AN ASS MAN. ASS MAN I SAY!!!! JUST LIKE HIS GODDAMN DADDY.

“Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

EX-LIBRIS! EX-LIBRIS FLASHBACKS!!!!

“Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

OK, but here the dick tho, sir? WHERE?

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-” || “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

I SEE WE DISRESPECTING THIS VERY RESPECTFUL MAN RIGHT HERE, ZWEII.

“Princess, baby, look at me.”

BABY GIRL. DEAREST BOBA FETT FIC QUEEN. MA'AM. IF YOU. OMG. IF YOU SO. HNNG IF YOU SO EVER. JUST. OMG. LIKE IDK. IF YOU PUT THINGS THEN 'BABY' IN IT? I AM DEAD, LIKE HSDJSKDJASLKDHKASHFKDNF;RJGLKND,VMS,DMFS.

Damn him and his honorable ways.

DAMN RIGHT.

“Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm? Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

THE HONOR HAS BEEN STRIPPED IN LESS THAN .5 SECONDS OH MY GOD. SUCH WHORES.

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying.

I'm such a sucker for backstories and little 'non-essential' details because it's such a power move to unearth those little things. And for clarity, when I say 'non-essential', something that could have been omitted or no longer expounded on but they're really interesting — though not for everyone. But I love them. Genuinely love the little 'fillers' and such.

I have I didn't fuck up how to explain that but I mean it in a way that's not offensive or downplaying it, but more of the not so big big details — I'm just gonna shut up now LOL.

“My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 

Claiming this for my personal satisfaction over my knee obsession ♥

“Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” || “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” || “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

EEP! It's so playful I DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

“Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

SO MUCH KNEE TALK MA'AM. WHY IS THERE NO WARNING FOR THIS??!??!?!

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 

I SCREAM. AS IF I HAVE NOT SCREAMED OVER THE HAPPENING PRIOR TO THEM TIT PLAY. BOBA, MY SON, YOU PUSSY EATING CHAMP. MAKE DADDY PROUD ♥

“That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Polite neighbor vibes ♥

“See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?”

BOY SO COCKYYYYYYYY.

OH MY GOD. YOUR EXBOYFRIEND IS A DOUCHEBAG, OKAY? OMGGG??? LIKE FOR REAL??? I WILL THROW HANDS, OKAY?????

But like in all seriousness, this is one of the trope that I adoreeeeeeeeeee okay, cause it's the after sex, after fun, after all the highs and now the lows. The 'where do we go from here' or the 'let's just get this over with' trope and omg ma'am? I am in loveeeeee!

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.”

MOOTS REPRESENTTTT.

“Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Gentle reminder that if you can't find that slut dress that made you a slut, it's here, babe. Riiiiight here ♥

AN HONEST DAY'S WORK

—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.

—WORD COUNT: 9k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, age gap relationship (reader is an adult), Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖

Divider by the @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery. 

While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation. 

Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.

It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.

Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.

It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world. 

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.

Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 

With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard. 

“See something you like, princess?”

Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”

He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”

The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.

You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.” 

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.

Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.

Maybe…

You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head. 

“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-” 

You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.

The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.

“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”

Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”

If only he knew just how good I can be.

The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.

Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.

Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.

For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.

Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm. 

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”

Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?” 

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.

“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 

Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you? 

Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.” 

And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.

“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.

Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.

When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb. 

You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort. 

“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?” 

“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook. 

Damn him and his honorable ways.

Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”

First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread. 

Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”

The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.

In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.

“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”

“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.

You can’t give him your permission fast enough.

Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 

“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”

Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” 

Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.

Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.” 

An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.

A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit. 

Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.

As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.

Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”

As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body. 

Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”

In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.

Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.

“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”

“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter. 

“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”

Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!

“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”

You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat. 

Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…

Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.

You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”

Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”

The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.

Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.

“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”

He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”

You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 

You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers. 

Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.

“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.

As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”

With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”

 Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues. 

“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”

Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.

“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”

You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.

“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin. 

“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?” 

You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face. 

“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”

As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”

He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.

Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.

“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.

“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.

“Four… three…” 

Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.

Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core. 

“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.” 

His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.

 The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.

“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…” 

Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.

Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint. 

You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.

I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-

“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”

The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light. 

The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.

You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.

Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength. 

Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.

Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.

The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.

Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.

“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”

“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”

It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.” 

He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”

You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?

“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.

“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”

“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…” 

Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.

The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?

Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”

Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath. 

Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”

You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.” 

Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you. 

Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”

The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”

He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.

Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”

Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”

Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment. 

“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”

Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw. 

Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?

Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.” 

He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.

When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.

You pout. “So you have to go?” 

“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”

“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”

Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.

[elevatormusic]

my first reactions with zero context: only friends ep 7

oh boy oh no please be careful

how can you even see right now move your hair lmao

sir what was that

let’s be real tho we been knew that was gonna happen

god you do not deserve that man

yeah there is. do it again

hell yeah tell his ass

i know he said that offhandedly but he’s spot on

again..

he actually did change it to him😭😭 bro y’all just met

seriously nothing is ever your fault king never apologize he deserved that

okay now apologize to sand tf??

whomst? father? didn’t know he had one

he should go to jail tbh

damn bringing that up huh

yo why are you asking his friend to help him? you’re his father

babe idk what you expected none of y’all are good friends to each other lmao

yeah look at that he was right about something

lmao what you doing

okay he’s a dick but he’s not self destructive

oh he’s knows

crying love how they’re like yeah not ray

calm down? sir you invaded his privacy

okay well that’s not his fault they all hate you

saying he started it isn’t even true tho. you fucked him

sorry i still don’t feel bad for him

starfund? what does his shirt say?

crying he’s told you so many times that they didn’t

laughable

i think they’re overshadowed now my guy

that’s a fire hazard put it out

well that’s debatable

don’t enjoy that they’re going back to normal already

no way he stops drinking lmao not even to heal

it’s your fault😭

don’t you do it. treat him like a friend sand i stg

he very clearly just said why

i know you’re not trying to say you’re not

HE WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND????? YOU CAUSE HIM THE MOST STRESS

my mans said i ain’t got a dad top that

you are his life problem

bc y’all never help him when he has a problem?

punch him back bro fuck him

ton has to show up lmao they still have a project to finish

ray doesn’t seem as in love with mew anymore

oop there he is

friend??? i’m so serious you’re an idiot

you’re really doing that again? bruh own up to your shit for once in your life

i’m sorry fighting in a pool must have been so hard😭😭

with a thief😭

yeah justice he did justice

happiness? he was never gonna date you lmao

dog let him move out fuck him too

well get over him like that’s on you

is he angry drawing lol

okay well that’s creepy

babes back again!!!

friendship? lmao

ray ray ray stop getting into fights for him

*sigh*

no but he keeps fucking hurting sand

bleh

internally screaming and vomiting wtf is this no

i’m so serious sand leave his life you don’t deserve this

[celestie0]

BABE. AGAIN. UR REBLOGS ALWAYS HAVE ME CRYING IN THE CLUB (see youve fucked me up so bad im referencing hella old catchphrases) honestly imma kiss u thru the screen one of these days

same i craved kbbq so bad when i was writing it. i think ripped jeans are still trendy just maybe not DIY ripped jeans bahha. and yes hana is a mood im exactly like that when im drunk

“oh and he’s a creep, he reminds of that one very annoying guy every girl has in her class, who tries to one-up and simultaneously tries to get on with that very ambitious girl only to prove to her that he’s better and not in a good “rivals to lovers” way, no, they gotta be all “i am doing this for your own good”, but they’re at the end of the day they are just bootlicking bigots who’ve failed miserably in their lives.”

omg okay yes exactly 😭🤣 i love the hatred for kai right off the bat PLS u literally named the thesis of his character right here. i have not seen insidious but i take ur word for it 😭 and yes bb pls break tf outta his camera.

thanks my love haha yea obv i had to get into his headspace a bit to write for him and i was like damn🧍🏻‍♀️there r ppl that actually live this miserably? jfc

and yea ur so right,, tbh doubt and fears are so valid, if kai came from a better angle then perhaps he couldve actually provided valuable insights for her. but in my own career pursuit i know that doubt is the foundation for faith, and it’s healthy because it tests your resolve, whether that resolve is to continue to march forward or possibly pivot. but kai’s approach is simply seeding doubt to create insecurities to feel higher than another person, and that does not come from a place of care or understanding at all

OMG BB I THINK YOU’re THE FIRST READER TO REALIZE COACH YAGA’s POMERANIAN IS PANDA 😭😭💕💕

pls i wanna be princess carried by gojo so bad. and bahahah not the lawyer AND the therapist 😩 my dear im just like reader, i got them bills to pay plsss i cannot afford counsel to represent me for emotional damages

yesss tbh even i began developing a massive crush on reader while i was writing her in this chapter lol gojo suddenly became an afterthought 🤣🤣

“like i am gathering he probably developed this through keeping calm during the trauma and the tension that had him enveloped with the injury, illness and the death of his father.”

yess bb i think u hit it on the mark, and i think this is reflective of canon gojo too who has bottled up many feelings. my fave character trait of canon gojo is his ability to go from cheeky to serious at the drop of the hat (not only is it insanely hot, but also i think very charming and in my experience the true mark of a man LOL) so that’s the vibe i’m really trying to capture w kickoff gojo if all else isn’t canonically accurate i at least hope that is 🤣 but yea, he’s been forced to trauma that has kind of made him super good at compartmentalizing, almost too good, to where even extremely strong feelings of his can come off as passive. i tried to show that in his body language vs words when reader is done cussing him out for having it “easy in life” :””) ur so emotionslly intelligent my love and ur empathy is enouhh to make me tear up 😭 ppl in ur life must feel so safe w you

“my baby is making a mistake and these are not even her words, though she’s wrong to be voicing them.”

yesss she’s rly been driven up a fkn wall this whole chapter i felt so bad writing it all :””) esp this scene bc its like…she rejected kai’s advances, and yet somehow he was still rly able to get into her head and as a result, she spoke out of line in an effort to hurt gojo who i dont rly think deserved that 🥲😭

“HE JUST CALMED HIMSELF DOWN FOR HER SO FAST, HES THE ENTIRETY OF THE GREENLAND ON THIS EARTH. i will die for him.”

AAAAAA omg i hate to toot my own male mc’s horn LMFAO but yea i really liked that part bc he couldve gone off on her or made her feel bad/guilty but i think he just wants her to feel better ab everything :”) also yea i dont think he was angry per se, i was hesitant ab using “clenched fists” in the sentence bc i didnt want it to come off as he was pissed at her, but it was definitely hurt & anxiety

“i’m reaching my yappacity.”

PLSKSJDJD IM ADDING THIS TO MY VOCABULARY

“if virtual hugs are possible, im hugging the reader right now. the fear of disappointment is so real. i’ve had to take multiple breaks reading this chapter. i loveeee it, so well written. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️”

thank sm bb for reading w stuffs going on ik this chap hits heavy, tbh if i read something like this when i was reaaally in my “holy fuck im struggling w my life n career rn” phase i would NOT have been able to handle it bahhaha. but also i think there are parts that may have been comforting too. i appreciate u sm for providing all ur insights 🥺💕

“no because im imagining he’s saying those words to me and comforting me. thank you very much.”

this was the goooooal aaaaa i wanted it to feel like a hug thru the screen 😭🥲💕

“ELLIE!!!! WHY WERE YOU WORRIED???? THE TENSION, THE FRUSTRATION, CAREER AND GOJO RELATED BOTH, THE ASSHOLES AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN WAS SO PERFECTLY WORDED! I LOVED ALL OF IT!”

IM GONNA CRYYY IK IDK WHY I WAS SO WORRIED THE RESPONSE HAS BEEN SO SWEET N LOVELY I JUST IDK i think cuz it was all so vulnerable but im just. so. 😭😭😭 tysmm i rly cant say how much it means that u read the chap (while u were dying w no sleep 💀) and interacted w it sm :””) ur such a sweetie pie n i will literally be sending u my good vibes for my LIFEE PLSS <33 LOVE U M00tie

“ps: is mina the tribute to your best friend? i’m believing yes. also i loved, loved the author’s note, one of the sweetest thing ever that one has left at the bottom of their works.”

GIRL HOW DO U CATCH FUCKING EVERYTHING 😭😭😭 YES I CHOSE a name that started w m for mina to rep my friend :””) ughhhhh ur just too muhc n the fact u were ab to pass out when u read this n still catch fucking everything 💀🤣

WORDS ARENT ENOUGH I NEED TO HUG U THRU THE SCREEN. THANKS BB <333

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,��� Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. ��Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking down at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you met the three of them. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, ��try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are searing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong hands wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me 😭 and by beta read i mean left the funniest fucking comments everywhere and i will forever remember how hard i laughed 🤣 i adore u sm thank you <33 SHES ALSO A WRITER TOO GO CHECK HER OUT on ao3 she is an amazinggg writer there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[whysojiminimnida]

According to today's convo : hyung line- have no problem about perila leaves becuse they trust their partners so much and is very practical. But JK was not. So if jkk is real doesn't this mean JK don't trust Jimin ? Because he straight went from perila leaves to marriage, even Jimin was confused how his thought process went. Why would he have problem, his bf of many years just using same chopstick to separate perila leaves of his friend ? Oh this is so problematic. Think they will fall in love and marry just because of some food ? Is this how he view his SO (if it's not jimin ) ?

Oh Lord, the Future Moms Of Incels Club has brought their best and brightest on today.

I gather this is the bit you're talking about, but it comes from this video. And I feel like you missed some things. On purpose, likely, or just due to failure to IDK, WATCH ORIGINAL CONTENT.

The debate is on at approximately 21:45 or thereabouts. Do a little scrolling OR, IDK, watch the whole thing. For truth and context. I feel like I say that a lot. At least watch it from about 21:00 forward.

Meanwhile...

I'm gonna give you a little life tip that might help you before your 35 year old son refuses to move the fuck out the basement or wash his waifu pillow because you taught him that every relationship was fraught with "oh such problems" drama and that All Things Must Be Taken Literally: Please just stop this entire behavior before you breed. Literally, just stop it. It's not a healthy approach, much less an attractive quality. I am hopeful that you have time to outgrow it before you have an actual relationship. You're making the effort to think about this hard enough to write to me. To my tiny ass piece of the internet to try to disprove a relationship between two people based solely on a one minute interaction. And because you did not watch the original content, you missed a number of things.

I MEAN say what you want about Koo's jealous streak but Yoongi went "heh heh" and full on enacted the whole romantic scene with Jimin. And smirked about it. I ain't mad at it because this is at most a game show. It is literally BTS giving us RUN without actually giving us RUN. They're playing. I mean sure, yes, Jungkook is a possessive man and we love that about him but we also love that Jimin just smiles sweetly at him and lets him be that. They like this about each other, anon. It works for them. Or haven't you noticed?

This type of flirty posturing on both their parts is just part of their dynamic and they live for this shit. That you haven't caught onto it is a whole you problem, don't make it theirs.

And Jimin actually said that his partner should give HIM the perilla leaf, not his friend, because he's the boyfriend. Did you miss that bit? Oh you did. Then you probably also missed the part where Jimin called out the production team for setting them up to argue:

Because that's exactly what was going on and everyone knew it. Everyone else, I mean.

[elysianslove]

Hewwooo! This ask just came into my mind and I wanted to share. So Yuuji has a girlfriend that is a civilian and at first Sukuna is annoyed by her but as time passed he starts to take a like on her since she's always so nice to him despite him being a curse. And he's just so confused about his feelings because him being the king of curses falling for a weakling? Ridiculous. I want to read your interpretation of this idc if its hcs or scenario. Do whatever you like❤

hi my love!! i really hope you like this!! i made it into headcanons so i can go over a larger span of time more smoothly, so i hope that’s okay!

i’m getting so many sukuna requests hell yes 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

okay so let’s make it that you’re yuuji’s gf from before he ate sukuna’s finger ( yeah btw wtf is up with your bf ??? )

he called you as soon as they’d announced the death of his grandpa, because it had felt like you were the last family he had left. seriously you’re his whole world

you’re there when megumi starts explaining stuff about how this finger’s super dangerous and people will die you and yuuji are like 😃✋🏼 wha 

but also so unbothered bc he can’t be serious

turns out he is serious laugh out loud

yuuji makes you go home as you’re at the school gate and you’re like mf what??? no???? i’m not leaving you?? 

he ends up making you wait and then he just never comes back

megumi explains everything to you 

but again you’re like 😃✋🏼 pause wtf 

you keep texting him and calling him and he’s not responding you’d be angry at him if you weren’t so fucking worried 

and so eventually he finds you again 

after eating sukuna’s second finger (again, what the fuck sir) 

now megumi had told you he was now like ? possessed ? by a curse? it sounded like gibberish to you tbh and it was the last thing you were thinking about when you finally saw him again

all that mattered was that he was okay and alive and in your arms 

you’ve never hugged him tighter tbh 

so anyways ! yuuji does not want you to meet sukuna 

like ever 

but when he meets you one day really frustrated from a mission, you ask him about it, and he just vents out everything to you. he tells you how the responsibility can be so overwhelming sometimes, and how sukuna can be so infuriating and you can’t imagine what it must be like having this guy in your head 

and then you just go 

“can i meet him?” 

at first he’s like absolutely not ma’am are u insane 

but then you convince him, telling him you trust him and reminding him he has control 

so he shifts 

you really were expecting something horrendous like seriously you were anticipating fainting from fear 

he’s just your bf 

with a rougher edge 

you like instantly relax 

even if this guy’s expressions are nothing like yuuji’s, you remind yourself that it’s still yuuji inside, no matter what 

“i like your — tats?” 

what do you even say to a curse??? 

he’s scowling at you so much you might piss yourself but you just repeat constantly that he can’t hurt you 

“you disgust me,” he spits out

yuuji shifts back so quick, and just groups you on his arms 

“that wasn’t me, i swear,” he says to you and you have to calm him down and tell him it’s okay !!  it’s not his fault the guy’s an ass 

now! yuuji’s pretty comfortable with your level of physical affection 

in fact, he loves it so much. it’s one of his favorite things about you. 

so he’s always welcoming an embrace from his favorite person in the world, but it’s so hard to ignore sukuna’s words in his mind repeatedly saying how this is so revolting 

he tries his best to pay him no attention 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and a mouth appear somewhere on yuuji’s body and it’ll say “get ur hands off my vessel human!” and ngl

it always makes you laugh

like how comical is that

eventually, over time, the hugs are 

kinda nice, sukuna realizes 

like he’s a thousand year old cursed spirit

he’s not really gotten any affection yk 

like ever 

and it’s not that he ever wanted it

but being with you

or well, him possessing yuuji and yuuji being with you and you being with him through transitive property (thank you grade 7 math)  

it really like softens him

kinda 

a little bit 

like the tiniest bit 

some part of him, he probably thinks it’s yuuji and not even him and that he’s just confused but really some part of him grows to anticipate the hugs 

and when you kiss yuuji 

god

your mouth feels so good he wants to feel it for himself 

it’s like angering him how you’re growing onto him, so he asks yuuji to shift them 

and they do shift

you’re a little surprised bc yuuji gave u like a 3 sec warning before those familiar markings appeared on his skin

“i never thought i’d see you again,” you admit. 

and he just kisses you 

like full on the mouth 

no warning

you pull him back in shock, and rest a hand on his shoulder to keep a distance between you two

“i don’t know where this is coming from but it doesn’t feel right, sukuna.” 

and you’re just

you’re just so nice

why are you so nice???

“i love yuuji, so much, and even though you’re sharing a body you’re still a whole other person. it feels wrong.” 

god why are you so good? it’s infuriating???? 

yuuji shifts back, starts apologizing again like the first time

“you have to stop apologizing for something someone else did, babe.” 

when he’s alone with sukuna that night he’s like dude, dude, bro, my man — we gotta talk boundaries bc wtf

sukuna just goes “not fair u get to kiss her” 

like yeah??? she’s my girlfriend tf ???? 

so sukuna resorts to watching (or feeling) from the sidelines again

as he grows more and more affectionate towards you 

until he’s just as protective over you as yuuji is

until he realizes that 

what yhe fuck

maybe he has feelings for you because, one of the main things about you is that the two times you’ve encountered him, you’ve never treated him like a curse. even if being treated human was once considered belittling to him, having you dote on him like that, speak to him as softly

it made his brain go brrrr 

so he asks yuuji one day, “can i kiss your gf” 

like that’s something you just casually ask

took a lotta convincing but eventually yuuji says “if she says yes then okay” 

it takes like 

90 minutes for both you and yuuji to decide that you’re okay with it. sukuna’s like fuck it ion wanna anymore lmfao

but anyways 

yuuji shifts into him 

and 

he doesn’t even wait the impatient mf 

he just kisses you so suddenly, cupping your neck and tugging at your hair like damn how long has he been wanting to do this

clearly way longer than even he thought 

after that yuuji doesn’t exactly share you, but yeah he’ll let sukuna kiss you every now and then

sukuna’s still not fully accepting of his feelings towards you, but he learns to appreciate you

especially your kindness towards him and yuuji, and the tenderness of your touch 

he never would’ve seen it coming when he awoke in this teenage boy’s body, but he can admit that you’re definitely an added benefit