#every day he goes out I know he's going to drink

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 6.5

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 5k

warnings: sunghoon, sunghoon and more sunghoon !!! teenage oc meeting her first love, lots of new warm, fuzzy feelings, cheating 😤😤😤 sunghoon is honestly just a piece of garbage, enter oc's knight in shining armour: my sweet, precious angel baby jk at the end 🥹

author's note: hey cuties !!! 6.5 is just a little flashback to show some snippets of oc's relationship with sunghoon. nothing we don't already know, just some backstory. i'm sorry for taking so long to post this one but i promise part 7 will be out as soon as possible 🫶🏼

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @livinluvl @puppybunnyjkay @mimi1097 @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth @chimmisbae @daskewl @ramyun-h @heyitsroshni @matryoshka-poetry @almatiarau @gukkie7 @ambiee3 @blueberriesm @milkk1400 @yuriouki @lovelovethebeatles @somehowukook @deedeeps @emily-hung @jkaxl @bhonbhon @bearchermer @annafarrr @in-out-inbetween @mar-lo-pap @123xxx0o

find tmhtl masterlist here

At the ripe age of sixteen, you're not the kind of girl who goes to parties. Your parents are strict and you're responsible. The kind of responsible that means curfews are followed, grades are prioritized and lying to your parents is an absolute no-go. Until tonight.

"You need to relax," Jihyo mutters as the two of you squeeze through the house's front door. The party is already in full swing. Music blares from the speakers, bodies are pressed together in a mass of sweaty teenagers, and the scent of cheap beer and cologne lingers in the air.

"I am relaxed," you grumble back, even as you pull your sleeves down over your hands, suddenly feeling out of place and self-conscious in big square glasses and dirty Converse.

Jihyo snorts. "Yeah, and I'm the queen of England." You huff, rolling your eyes. "We shouldn't even be here."

"Correction; you shouldn't be here. I, on the other hand, am thriving." Jihyo grins, already scanning the room for familiar faces. "Oh! I think I see Haeun! I'm gonna go say hi. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as she disappears into the crowd before letting out a sigh and making your way toward the kitchen instead. If you're going to be here, you at least need something to keep you occupied, preferably a soda. The idea of drinking alcohol at a party where you know almost no one is far too terrifying to risk.

You squeeze past a group of people and reach for a can of Coke from a cooler box filled with ice and drinks in the middle of the kitchen. You crack it open and take a sip. You take a few sips before realizing how awkward you must look, so you get your phone out and pull the only move you can think of; pretend to text someone and check the weather app every few seconds.

"You don't look like you want to be here."

The voice is smooth, casual and dangerously close. You freeze and tilt your head to find a boy standing before you, leaning against the counter with the kind of confidence that makes girls' knees weak.

Park Sunghoon.

You know who he is before he even introduces himself. All the girls here know Sunghoon. He's a senior and quite popular apparently. He's the kind of guy who always has someone's attention on him, the kind of guy who never has to try too hard because everything seems to come naturally to him.

And right now, he's looking at you. You of all people.

You grip your can of Coke a little bit tighter. "I'm fine," you mutter just a tad bit too quickly, realizing that you sound far from fine.

Sunghoon tilts his head, not trying to hide his amusement. "Uh-huh."

You shift under his gaze, suddenly feeling small. "I'm just here with my friend."

"Jihyo, right?"

You blink, surprised. "How know Jihyo?"

He chuckles. "Yeah. I'm friends with her cousin."

You nod, feeling a bit unsure of what to say next. He studies you for a moment before speaking up again. "You don't come to parties often, huh?"

You hesitate, mentally kicking yourself for making it so obvious. "Not really, no."

"Do your parents know you're here?" He chuckles, sounding almost like he's mocking you.

Your face burns hot, your eyes drifting down to your sneakers. "Of course they do."

"Liar," he whispers.

You swallow thickly, feeling your pulse jump in your throat.

Sunghoon grins, his eyes softening at the evident nerves in your body language. "Don't worry, I won't tell," he teases, taking a sip of his beer.

You stare up at him, wondering why he would possibly choose to stand here and talk to you when there are so many other girls. He's smooth, too smooth, too effortlessly charming. It's dangerous, yet you can't help but welcome the butterflies in your stomach every time he looks at you.

"Come on," he says suddenly, reaching past you for a big bag of chips on the counter, his arm brushing against yours in the process. "If you're not gonna talk, at least eat something."

You blink up at him. "What?"

Sunghoon tears the bag open and holds it out for you. "Chips," he deadpans. "I know you've been standing here trying to look busy. Eating is the easiest way to do that."

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to deny it, but you know he's not wrong. Reluctantly, you reach into the bag, plucking out a single chip. "This is stupid."

He grins, popping two into his mouth at once. "Maybe. But it's better than awkwardly pretending to text someone who isn't texting you back."

That almost makes you choke on your chip. "Excuse me?"

His eyes twinkle with amusement, his grin growing wider. "I saw you earlier. Very convincing performance, by the way."

"You're insufferable," you mutter, glaring at him before shoving another chip into your mouth.

"But I'm right," he chuckles.

You hate that you can't think of a comeback. You hate that the look in his eyes makes your heart pound. You hate that you don't mind spending the rest of the night speaking to him.

It happens on a random Thursday, the kind of day that usually comes and goes without any significance.

You're sitting cross-legged on his bed, flipping through one of your textbooks while he's sprawled out beside you, absentmindedly tossing a baseball into the air and catching it.

It's been a while since you officially started dating, and even though you're still getting used to being someone's girlfriend, it's been fun and easy.

The window is cracked open, letting in the crisp autumn air. The faint sound of distant traffic hums in the background, mixing with the rhythmic thump of Sunghoon's baseball hitting his palm. You underline a passage in your notes, trying to focus on studying, but your boyfriend's movements are distracting.

"Do you ever take university seriously?" You sigh, not looking up from your notes.

He snorts. "I'm a third-year, baby. I've earned the right to slack off sometimes."

You roll your eyes, highlighting another sentence. "Yeah, must be nice, hm?"

He hums, catching the baseball one last time before tossing it into the drawer of his nightstand. He shifts, turning onto his side so he can watch you study.

You try to ignore the weight of his gaze. It's impossible.

"You know," he muses, reaching out to toy with the hem of your sweatshirt, the one he gave you, slightly oversized on you, the sleeves bunched at your wrists. "I think you secretly like spending all your time studying just so you don't have to pay attention to me."

You scoff, flipping a page. "You're delusional."

Sunghoon smirks, tugging lightly on the fabric of the sweatshirt. "Seriously. I could be dying over here, in desperate need of love and affection, and you'd still choose your stupid textbook over me."

You raise an eyebrow. "I think you'll live."

He sighs dramatically. "I guess I'll survive."

You shake your head, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a baby."

"You're so mean to me. You're lucky I love you."

Your breath catches. You look up, startled, and that's when you see it, his expression shifting, his playful smirk faltering like he just realized what he said.

He blinks at you, his confidence wavering for the first time since you started dating. "Uh..."

You stare at him, your heart pounding.

Sunghoon lets out a nervous chuckle, shaking his head like he messed it up. "Shit, that wasn't how I meant to say that for the first time."

You're still frozen, slowly processing his words, watching as he hurries to sit up, looking restless all of a sudden.

"I was gonna wait," he murmurs, looking disappointed with myself. "Make it special. Maybe plan a big date or something." He looks at you, his face suddenly serious, his eyes searching your expression. "But...I don't know. I was looking at you just now and it just...it just slipped out. But I mean it."

Your lips part, but no words come out.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses his face. He exhales sharply, visibly pulling back. "Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

That snaps you out of it. "No."

"No?"

You shake your head quickly, setting your textbook aside. "No, don't take it back."

His eyebrows furrow. "But-"

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, your grip firm. "I love you too."

The tension in his shoulders disappears immediately. His eyes widen slightly, like he wasn't expecting you to actually say it back.

"Yeah?" he murmurs softly, squeezing your hand with a wide smile on his lips.

You nod, feeling an intense warmth start to bloom in your chest. "Yeah."

He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, cupping your face in his hands. "I love you," he whispers, his voice full of something so warm, so certain, that it makes your chest ache.

And when he kisses you, soft and slow, you think, 'This is it. This is forever.'

You never thought moving in with your boyfriend would be easy, but standing in the middle of Sunghoon's apartment, surrounded by boxes labelled in messy handwriting, you realize you underestimated just how chaotic it would be.

"You own way too much stuff," he grunts, setting down the last of your boxes by the couch. He wipes his brow, glancing around the room like he's just now realizing how much space your things take up.

You place your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at his tone. "Excuse me? I only brought the essentials."

Sunghoon snorts, lightly kicking one of the boxes with his foot. "Unless you consider twenty scented candles an essential, I think you're lying."

"I like my apartment to smell good, thank you very much," you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He grins, stepping closer. "Our apartment," he corrects you, playfully tapping your chin.

Right. Our apartment. That's crazy. It's not just his apartment anymore, it's yours too now.

Sunghoon studies you for a moment, his expression softening. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just...taking it all in, y'know?"

He smiles, reaching for your hand to lace his fingers with yours. "Come on, let's unpack later. First, I think we need to do something important."

"Like what?" you ask, tilting your head.

He grins and starts tugging you towards the kitchen. "Finding a space for all your mugs."

-

By the time you finally finish unpacking, mostly unpacking, it's late and you're exhausted.

Sunghoon stretches his arms above his head while he walks to the bedroom, letting out a big yawn. "Okay, I vote we officially stop being productive for the night."

You groan in agreement, flopping onto the bed. It smells like his detergent mixed with his cologne. It's so distinctly him and you love it.

Sunghoon chuckles and plops down beside you, rolling onto his side to look at you. "This feels kinda surreal, doesn't it? Like, you actually live here now. I can't kick you out when I get sick of your yapping."

That earns him a pinch to the bicep.

"Regretting it already?" you scoff.

"Are you kidding? I've been begging you to move in for months," he grins, scooting closer.

You giggle as he nudges your nose with his. "You're ridiculous."

He smiles, genuinely smiles, before propping himself up on his elbow, his face turning serious. "This is just the beginning, y'know."

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Beginning of what?"

"Of our life together," he smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand. "I'm eventually gonna make you my wife and have you barefoot and pregnant in no time."

That earns him another pinch.

You smooth down the skirt of your dress for what feels like the tenth time, glancing around the restaurant with wide eyes. It's the nicest place you've ever been to. Marble floors, candlelit tables, waiters in black vests who speak softly and pour your water with practiced precision. Even the chandelier above you sparkles like it's been polished specifically for tonight.

"You didn't have to go this all out," you murmur, glancing at Sunghoon from across the table.

He leans back in his chair, looking far too relaxed in his tailored suit, his hair styled perfectly, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand. "Come on," he scoffs with a soft grin. "You're always saying I don't take you anywhere fancy."

You let out an amused snort, your eyebrows raised. "I meant, like...movie theatres with reclining seats. Not this."

He smirks, taking a sip of his wine before setting it down on the white linen tablecloth. "This is better though."

You look around the restaurant, your eyes wide. "This place probably costs more than our rent."

"You should be proud, ___. I'm interning at one of the top law firms in Seoul. We might as well live like it," he scoffs.

You smile but something in your chest twists. You've noticed the change in him lately, how he carries himself differently, speaks more carefully, drops names you're unfamiliar with. There's a polish to him now, like he's already halfway to the man he's trying to become, and you don't know if you're even worthy of that man.

"I am proud of you, baby," you mumble, trying to lighten the mood. "This just...must have cost a fortune. You know I would've been happy with takeout and a movie for date night."

"I know." Sunghoon leans forward, taking your hand in his. "But I wanted tonight to be more special than that."

Your eyebrows furrow. "Why?"

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulls out a small black velvet box and places it on the table, unopened.

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, your heart pounding, your mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. You can't speak, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"Look, I know we're young," he murmurs, looking a little nervous. "And we still have so much ahead of us...but I also know I don't want to go through any of it without you."

Your breath hitches.

"I've known for a long time that I want to marry you, ___."

He opens the velvet box. Inside is a diamond ring, big but classy. It's classic and simple, and it looks expensive enough to make your heart race and your head spin. Sunghoon stands up from his chair and moves toward you, dropping to one knee beside the table. The whole restaurant feels like it fades to a low hum.

"___," he murmurs, his eyes shining, his voice steady. "Will you marry me?"

Your eyes grow glossy. You've talked about the future, always in vague, hopeful ways. You've talked about maybe moving to a new city someday, maybe getting a dog, maybe getting married and having a baby.

But this is suddenly so real.

He looks so sure, so ready. When you look at him, you don't just see a boyfriend anymore. You see someone successful, someone who wants to be with you forever, someone who could give you a life that looks like this.

You say yes.

Because you believe it's right.

Because you love him, and you want to love him forever.

You're balancing a bag of groceries in one hand and your keys and purse in the other when you unlock the door to the apartment.

It's later than usual, but not by much. You told him you'd be studying late at the library but you finished early and decided to surprise him with a nice dinner, something warm and comforting to break through the tension that's been sitting between you both for weeks now.

Grad school has been intense. Between classes, research, your thesis work, and the never-ending string of appointments for wedding planning, you've barely had time to breathe, let alone focus on the growing distance between you and Sunghoon.

But tonight, you want to try. You want to remind him that you still choose him, even when life is chaotic.

You're toeing off your shoes when you hear it. A soft, breathy sound. Muffled. Familiar.

Your stomach knots. You take a few tentative steps down the hallway. The bedroom door is slightly ajar.

Then—

A moan. A voice you recognize. Too well. You freeze. Your heart drops.

No. No. No. No.

You push the door open and there they are.

Sunghoon and Minji, one of your old university friends. She's straddling him, his hands gripping her waist, both of them frozen in horror the second they see you.

The grocery bag slips from your hand, apples and a carton of milk crashing to the floor.

Minji scrambles off of him, trying to cover herself. "___, I...I didn't know you were-"

"Get out," you whisper.

She hesitates, glancing at Sunghoon like she expects him to fix it.

"I said get out!"

Minji jumps, grabbing her clothes and bolting from the room. You're left standing there with shallow breaths, hands shaking, staring at the man you're supposed to marry.

Sunghoon stares back at you, sheet around his waist, mouth opening like he wants to say something but nothing comes out.

His lips part. Then close. Then part again. All you can hear is the ringing in your ears. The room spins. Your stomach churns. You feel like you might be sick.

Suddenly, you turn and walk straight into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you and locking it. You barely make it to the sink before the sob rips out of your chest. Your hands clutch the porcelain as you struggle to stay upright, the weight of what you've just seen, what you know, crashing over you all at once.

The betrayal feels like fire, burning through your ribs, crawling up your throat, threatening to swallow you whole. Your mind keeps playing it on a loop. His hands on her. Her voice. His face when he saw you.

You drop to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, tears streaming down your cheeks with no sign of stopping. You cover your mouth with both hands, trying to muffle the sounds clawing their way out of you.

This was supposed to be the man you were going to marry. The one who promised forever. The one you trusted. And he threw all of it away.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. You don't know. You sit on the cold tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest, your eyes red and puffy, your entire body wracked with silent, aching grief. Eventually, your sobs quiet into nothing. You don’t feel better. Just empty.

Numb.

When you finally unlock the door and step back into the apartment, the silence greets you like a slap.

You walk out slowly, your legs stiff and heavy beneath you. You find him sitting on the couch, fully dressed now, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He looks up when he hears your footsteps, eyes red, hair a mess, guilt hanging from him like a second skin.

"___," he mutters softly, like he doesn't know how to say anything else.

The pain bubbles up again, but this time it's sharper, steadier. You cross your arms, standing a few feet away like you can't bring yourself to get any closer.

You stare at him, feeling completely hollow. "How could you?"

He rises from the couch, cautiously stepping toward you. "I wasn't thinking. I- there's no excuse. I fucked up. Please, please, let's just talk about this-"

"Talk about what?" you snap, fresh tears building again. "How you cheated on me? How you fucked her in our bed? Fine, let's talk about it."

Sunghoon runs his hands through his hair, pacing desperately. "I know...I know I messed up. I never meant to hurt you."

"You never meant to-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "Sunghoon, you fucked someone, my friend of all people! In our bed! You fucked everything up!"

He stops pacing, jaw tightening, expression darkening like he's been holding in frustration and resentment and he just can't hold it in any longer.

"Maybe everything was already fucked up, ___."

"What are you-"

"I felt alone, okay?" he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. "You were never around."

Your brows knit together. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I needed to feel like I mattered again!" he snaps. "You never made time for me!"

You shake your head, completely stunned. "I was working my ass off to build a name for myself, a life for us. I was doing it all...for us, Sunghoon!"

His expression contorts, bitter and broken. "Every time I looked at you, you were buried in your books or talking about centrepieces or venue options. You never stopped. Your degree, the damn wedding planning, it all mattered more than me and my needs!"

You laugh, cold and hollow. "Don't you dare stand there and act like the victim. You cheated on me. For God knows how long."

"I know I did," he mutters, but the guilt starts fading from his voice, replaced with something harder. "But you weren't giving me what I needed. I needed someone who actually made me feel like a man."

Your heart twists, a mix of pain and rage clawing its way through your chest. "So, this made you feel like a man? Is that it? You needed to fuck someone else, someone I considered a friend, so that you could feel like more of a man? You couldn't talk to me and try to fix it?"

He exhales, turning away from you. "I tried."

"No," you mutter shakily, your voice breaking. "You didn't try hard enough."

You stare at the man you thought you'd spend forever with, and he doesn't look like the boy who you fell in love with. The boy who promised to never hurt you. He just looks like a stranger now.

"I was loyal to you," you scoff, tears blurring your vision. "Even when it was hard. Even when I was exhausted. I chose you every single day, even when you made it so hard to. Even when you lost your temper, even when you would scream at me, even when you made me feel bad about myself. I still chose you, Sunghoon!"

Your voice turns into a sob, your cheeks stained with mascara, your bottom lip trembling.

"Why couldn't you choose me? Why couldn't you think of our future?"

"It stopped feeling like ours a long time ago," he mutters, his voice growing softer. He looks away, looking ashamed for a fleeting second before he doubles down. "You did this to us."

The silence that follows is deafening.

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief. You almost laugh, almost, but it sticks in your throat, tangled in heartbreak and disbelief.

"I did this?" you echo.

Sunghoon's expression is tight. "I'm not saying I was right, but I felt alone. I felt like I didn't matter to you anymore," he mumbles, looking down at his feet.

Tears slide down your cheeks, hot and silent. "You were everything to me."

He looks at you, regret starting to crack through his pride. "Baby..."

Your mouth parts, but the words catch in your throat. You want to scream and break something. You want to rewind time, go back to just an hour ago when you were standing in the grocery store aisle debating whether to buy basil or parsley for the dinner you never got to make.

He takes a step toward you but you shake your head, backing away. "I can't believe you'd do this. After seven fucking years. I really hope she was worth it."

His eyes glisten but it's too late. The damage is done. And just like that, you know there's no coming back from this. No amount of apologies or explanation can undo what he did. So you turn around, walk to the bedroom, and start packing a bag. You walk over to the nightstand, the one where your wedding planner notebook still sits, pages dog-eared and scribbled with half-finished ideas.

You slip your ring off without hesitation. It's heavier than you remember. You place it down on the wood with a soft clink that sounds louder than the city traffic outside. It's final, inevitable.

Without looking back, you turn and walk out.

The guest bedroom in Jihyo's apartment smells faintly like lavender and fabric softener, but after almost two years, it no longer feels temporary. Her place is bright, filled with colour, yet you feel like a shadow haunting it.

You wake up slowly, sunlight filtering through pale curtains, but it doesn't fill you with warmth. Some days are harder than others. There are still days you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling until your chest aches. Days when food tastes like cardboard, when your body feels too heavy to carry, when the memories creep in—him, his laugh, his scent. Jihyo's been your main support system. There are still days when she has to physically drag you int the shower or sit beside you with a spoon to your lips to force you to eat something.

This morning feels better, even just slightly.

You pull yourself out of bed and walk to the kitchen where Jihyo is already buzzing around, dressed and ready for the day. Her presence, as always, is a source of comfort.

"Big day!" she exclaims, pushing a fresh cup of coffee into your hands.

You take it with a grateful smile. "You mean terrifying day."

She gives you a look. "You'll be great. Just don't cry in front of the students. They're probably still hungover from the weekend and dealing with their own shit."

"That's...fair," you snort.

Jihyo tilts her head, her voice growing gentler. "You sure you're okay to do this?"

You nod, looking determined. "I have to be."

You have to be ready. You transferred to Yonsei for a fresh start. You have a new job, apartment hunting, maybe thinking of getting a cat to keep you company. There are no more wedding plans taped to the fridge or a ring on your finger. It's scary, but you're ready. You have no other choice but to be ready.

-

Standing in front of the main entrance to the building, clutching a leather folder to your chest like it's the glue holding you together, you take a deep breath to try and ease the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

When you walk in, the hallway is filled with a soft hum of conversation in the distance, the low shuffle of students moving from class to class. You're so caught up in the quiet rhythm of it all that you nearly run into someone rounding the corner.

"Oh- sorry!"

You step back quickly, your folder nearly slipping from your grasp. The man in front of you blinks, just as startled.

He's tall, dressed in slacks and a pale blue dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. His hair looks soft, a little tousled like he's been running his hands through it all morning. His glasses sit on the bridge of his nose and his eyes, round and kind, widen slightly when they land on you.

He's handsome in that kind, unassuming, doesn't-know-he's-hot way.

"No, no, I'm sorry," he rushes to say, bowing politely. "I didn't see you there."

You shake your head, offering him a faint smile. "It's okay, I wasn't really watching where I was going."

The awkward tension only lasts a second before he smiles, gentle and warm.

"Are you new? I haven't seen you around here before."

You nod. "Yeah. First day."

He nods in understanding, adjusting his glasses before offering his hand. "I'm Jungkook. Professor Jeon to my students. I teach economics."

You shake his hand. His grip is firm but not overpowering. His palm is warm, comforting.

"I'm ___. Professor ___ to mine," you murmur. "Political science."

"Welcome to Yonsei," he smiles, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "We don't usually do hazing rituals for new staff, unless you count being thrown into an 8am lecture with uninterested students."

His smile makes something flutter in your chest. It's not romantic per say, you're not ready for that, but there's something safe about him. Something reassuring, like the soft hum of music you didn't know you needed to hear.

"Thanks," you murmur, shifting the folder in your hands. "Still trying not to get lost."

He grins. "I still get lost, and I've been here a while."

You laugh, the sound catching you off guard. It's been a long time since you've done that.

You look at him, taking in his slightly crooked tie, the way his glasses slip down his nose when he glances at your schedule peeking out from your folder. He kinda reminds you of a puppy.

He clears his throat. "If you need anything, uh...printer passwords, coffee recommendations, a tour of the faculty lounge, I'm happy to help."

Your lips twitch. "Is that all a part of your job description?"

He chuckles. "It is when the new political science professor looks slightly terrified."

You roll your eyes, but you can't keep the smile from tugging at your mouth. "Not terrified. Just...mildly overwhelmed."

"Mildly," he repeats, nodding like it's very serious business. "Got it. In that case, I'll keep my offer for coffee on the table."

You laugh again, softer this time. "I might take you up on that."

"Good." He pauses, then gestures towards the hallway. "You headed to class?"

"Yeah, but I'm not really sure where I'm supposed to be," you murmur sheepishly.

His eyebrows raise, the corners of his mouth turning upward. "I can walk you to wherever you need to be...if you want."

You hesitate, but only for a second.

"Sure."

As the two of you start walking side by side, something loosens in your chest, ever so slightly—the knot that's been there since the breakup with Sunghoon.

You're not ready for anything big. You're still healing. Still learning to exist in your own skin again, but for the first time in a really long time, something flickers quietly in the back of your mind. Maybe, not today or tomorrow, but someday something good can start again.

And maybe it starts with a boy in glasses and a crooked tie, holding open the door to your new life.

< Part 6 || Part 7 >

[verdancy-hime]

I think Bella Hadid has a little guy who lives in a pull out drawer in her kitchen who has a vibrating cock cage that wakes him up an hour before her alarm goes off every day and he hands her a weed vape and a celery juice that he made with a hand mixer so he didn't wake her up by using the blender even though her house is huge and then she drinks the celery juice and stares at the wall for 3 hours and then takes a selfie and goes back to bed and then she does yoga and takes a selfie and takes a shower and then the little guy gets locked in the drawer for 10 hours while she puts on a stupid outfit and makeup and takes 30 selfies and hits the weed vape and pretends to care about something the computer told her to care about and then goes and gets wasted but it's cool because her and her friends also know a guy who hooks them up with an iv drip for free so they can drink longer because he doesn't understand how drugs work and he thinks one of them will take their shirt off if he keeps doing that and then they all take the ivs out and go to someone's house and the reason they are at that guy's house is that someone told a bunch of random assistants or something who have normalish jobs but meet a general physical type "you like Bella Hadid, right? She's going to be at this party at this guy's house if you want to go with me?" And they all get loaned a piece of jewelry to wear and it's the same color and their friend waves to a guy they know and now that guy who's house it is can go fake a meet cute with whichever one looks cutest to him and if he strikes out he can go find another one and none of the girls know they got pimped by Bella Hadid and then she takes another selfie with the ugliest one and then she remembers that her body needs calories and she eats like one bite of something and doesn't remember what it is and then she throws up in the pool and then texts for an Uber and the Uber driver has been hovering outside the house where Bella Hadid is since he saw the post on Instagram and she is aware of this and she's like "yeah hi I'm wasted nice wedding ring" and the Uber driver blushes and she goes home and checks to make sure the body drawer guy is okay but like not in a nice way and he gives her a mineral water that she doesn't even like but has a bottle that matches her fridge and then she passes out on the couch and the guy with the cock cage wipes her face with a micellar water towelette and then puts the towelette into his mouth and chews it to a fine paste and eats it.

do you think bella hadid is waking up and scrolling on tik tok, hitting a vape, and eating junk food?

no, she's drinking water, making celery juice, doing yoga, going on a walk, applying skincare, brushing her hair, putting on a cute matching set

you want to be an angel? then stop being a 🐷

[muwapsturniolo]

Anxiety ⚠ M. Sturniolo

"so why do i feel like my life is a mess...? everything seemed so good."

⟢ ANGST!!!! obviously, this has to do with anxiety. in no way shape or form am i trying to glorify anxiety or romanticize it. this more so is me projecting but also taking inspo from other sources that have expressed the way their anxiety takes form.

divider cred @bernardsbendystraws

The party started off fun.

He was having a good time, surrounded by people who were his friends, along with a few new faces. He had a drink in his hand, a smile on his face, and overall good energy.

Nothing could bring him down, he was on top of the world.

He was standing with Chris and two other girls, all of them laughing and talking with each other.

Time seemed to suddenly stand still when he made eye contact with a girl across the room. She was pretty, a diamond in the rough, Matt thought to himself. However, there was something off about her, something he couldn't put his finger on.

All he knew was that the closer she got, his palms grew sweaty, the grip on his cup tightening. The air in the room felt suffocating, his chest getting tight as he tried to breathe. He felt stuck, like there was a human-sized fly trap keeping him stuck in place.

She approaches him with an eerie aura, everything around her turning into visible static that he could feel in his limbs. The red flags in his mind were waving at a concerning pace, warning him that danger was near. She looked him up and down, her black beady eyes judging his attire and what seemed to be everything about him.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to speak when suddenly, she leans in, her shockingly cold breath fanning over his face.

"You don't belong here."

Her simple yet harsh statement sent his mind into overdrive, every rebuttal he could have given dying in his throat before he could make a sound.

"Look at you, trying so hard to fit in with these people when they don't even want you here. You try so hard, and yet you still manage to be a loser. You've been nursing the same drink for hours, you look a hot mess, and you're pathetic attempts at flirting are comical. You keep trying to be like Chris, and you never will be, he's better than you."

His chest gets tighter at every blow she lands, his hands starting to shake. His mouth starts to feel dry, the need for water or any type of liquid is strong, yet he remains stuck in place.

What is going? Who is this girl? Why is Chris just letting her say these things to him and not stopping her?

"Look around Matthew, everyone's looking at you, judging everything about you. You should leave before they start poking fun in your face. Who knows, maybe Chris will join in, after all, you've been attached to him like a puppy, seeking his attention and validation."

His eyes dart around the party, his tremors growing worse seeing everyone looking at him.

Meanwhile, Chris was starting to grow concerned. He noticed the way Matt zoned out, staring off into the crowd of people. He noticed the way his breathing had become labored, his face turning almost green as if he was going to be sick. He noticed the way his hands started to shake, the way he swallowed harshly.

He tried to get his attention, nudging him softly, saying his name, even waving a hand in front of his face, but nothing worked.

"Matt!" He finally shouts, drawing the attention of most people.

It seems like the air is punched back into Matt's chest, a loud and harsh gasp leaving his mouth as he snaps his head towards Chris. Their eyes meet, Chris's filled with concern while Matt's hold fear.

"Bro I've been saying your name for like the past five minutes, you good?" Matt goes to answer, but the words die in his throat once more as he sees more people staring at him.

He couldn't do it.

So he quickly left the party, his drink tumbling to the ground as he fled, ignoring the way Chris shouted for him.

A few days later, the three brothers sat in the car parked across the street from a random gas station. They were filming a video and everything was going smoothly until things took a turn.

Chris and Nick, the more passionate ones, had started arguing over who knows what. Matt had tried to intervene, finding the whole thing funny and laughing out. However, Chris and Nick weren't listening, continuing to speak over him.

He catches a glimpse of something moving out the corner of his eye, his eyes darting towards the windshield.

His blood runs cold seeing the same girl from the party, her talon-like fingers sending him a daunting wave. He swallows harshly and rubs at his eyes, hoping that his mind was playing a trick on him. When he looked back at the spot, the girl was gone. He visibly relaxes, letting out a sigh of relief and closing his eyes briefly.

He only has a millisecond of peace, when the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Matthew."

His eyes dart open, immediately landing on the rearview mirror.

All the air leaves his lungs when he sees the familiar black beady eyes staring deep into his soul.

How was she in the car? Who was she? Why aren't Chris and Nick freaking out over this stranger being in their car? He tries to speak, the urge to voice his panic strong, but he gets shut down by Nick.

"Shut the fuck up Matt!''

"See Matt? They don't want to talk to you. They don't even care about you. You're nothing but a pest, an annoying pest who they have to call their brother. I'm sure if they had the chance to continue their career without you, they'd take it. You bring nothing to the channel, besides being a driver that is, that's why they keep you around. otherwise, you're useless."

She says her words nonchalantly, like her words were so right and it was no big deal. She said her words as if they weren't sending him into distress.

"T-thats not t-true..." He says softly, basically a whisper.

She chuckles, pushing her body off the seat and leaning closer so she can whisper in his ear.

"You see the things people say online, your so-called fans calling out your lack of effort. You've heard the way Chris and Nick call you out. you've heard the things they said."

"N-no ... N-no that's not right..." His argument was weak, he and the mysterious girl knew it.

"When are you going to stop lying to yourself?"

"Why are y-you doing this?"

He refuses to turn his head, scared to meet her face to face, knowing she would end up haunting him in his dreams.

"Because...You need to hear the truth, Matthew."

His fingers clench around the wheel, his knuckles turning white with how much tension there is. He's so caught up in the mentally draining conversation he's having, he doesn't even notice his foot starting to push down on the gas pedal, the speedometer reaching 70.

"The people you surround yourself with, the people you call friends and family, they don't like you, they don't want you. They lie to your face Matt, I'm only telling you the truth."

She so convincing without even trying.

He finally turns his head, his blue eyes meeting her dark ones. That same menacing smile makes its way onto her face when she sees the look of realization in his eyes.

She sits back in her seat, waiting for everything to finally play out.

Nick and Chris suddenly realize the sound coming from the car, seeing Matt's foot on the gas pedal as his hand is wrapped around the gear shift.

They freak out, Matt flinching as their yelling is now directed towards him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to kill us?!"

"Why the fuck are you acting like a dumbass?! What is wrong with you?!"

His breathing becomes labored, knowing that his brothers are mad at him and "hate" him, being too much to handle. He begins to spiral, basically falling out of the car as he swings the door open, ignoring the way Chris and Nick shout for him to come back. He quickly makes his way into the gas station, missing the way the static figure trails behind him as he heads straight for the bathroom. He slams the door shut and locks it, flinging himself into a corner as he tries to breathe. The salty tears pooling in his eyes make him clench them shut.

"Shhh, it's ok Matt, I'm here."

Her voice, her siren-like voice, rings out in the bathroom. He flinches feeling her cold arms embrace him, her attempts at comforting him feeble but somehow working.

"It's ok, it's all going to be ok. I'm the only real friend you have, the only friend you need. it's all going to be ok."

And she was.

She was the only friend he had now, watching over him constantly, haunting him.

He shut everyone out, blocking most of the numbers beside his family and deleting them. He shut out Chris and Nick, leaving the two confused.

They knew he was struggling, Chris telling Nick about the party and how Matt just freaked out. They came to the conclusion that his anxiety was getting bad, they just couldn't understand why it was, or why it happened so quickly.

He stayed cooped up in his room, refusing to leave the house. he also refused to film, leaving the other two no choice but to upload without him. They begged and pleaded for him to come out of his room and spend time with them or film, but each time, they were met with harsh words.

The words hurt, but they didn't give up.

But it seems like Matt did.

He lays in bed staring at the wall with a blank look, the messy room reflecting the mess he called his mind. He feels the bed dip behind him, the all-too-familiar coldness embracing him.

"Isn't this better?" She voices, her nimble fingers tracing his ink-covered arm.

He says nothing, but his silence is loud.

"You don't have to worry about the hate from those fans now. You don't have to worry about the fake friends judging and using you. You're finally at peace now."

She tries to convince him this was right, that this was the best outcome for him, but he can't help but feel like this was wrong.

"So why do I feel like my life is a mess...Everything seemed so good."

He turns towards her, his bloodshot eyes tracing her blurry figure.

"It wasn't good..."

"But it was..." He bites back.

She becomes angry, her fingers suddenly holding his arm tightly. "No it wasn't Matthew. I thought we have been over this, stop lying to yourself!"

He feels this anger form in his chest, an anger he's never felt before. He jumps up from his bed, standing over her with a look of disgust.

"you're lying! Everything was fine until you came along! It wasn't perfect but it was fine! You appeared out of thin air and turned everything to shit!"

"I have never lied to you! Any and everything I said has always been your own thoughts just voiced out loud!" She screams at him, her voice booming and making the ground shake.

He stumbles back, falling to the ground and curling into a ball as she shouts every negative thought he's ever had into the air. His raw and bitten fingers tangle in his greasy and messy hair, tugging at the strands with such force that he can feel the clumps falling out.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" He begins to scream, his voice raw as tears form in his eyes.

He couldn't handle it anymore.

"Chris, Nick!" He sobs out for his brothers.

The two had heard him talking to himself, giving each other worried glances. But when they heard the shouting and the panicked call out of their names, they jumped up and ran to him. They burst into his room, tripping over each other and the things on the floor as they rushed over to his crying form.

Their stomachs drop seeing him curled up in a fetal position, his eyes bloodshot as he continues to sob and dry heave. They fall to their knees and wrap their arms around him, trying to bring him some type of comfort.

And it works.

They were warm, unlike the mysterious girl with beady eyes who was always cold. He could hear their heartbeats, their words of tender love and care, feeling like a breath of fresh air compared to the harsh words that had been spewed towards him for months.

"I-I'm sorry I-" Nick cuts him off, hugging him even tighter. "Shh, it's ok, it's fine, you're going to be fine, we are going to be fine."

"We got you, you know we always got your back. We're triplets, it's the best bond to have." Chris adds on, wiping Matt's tears away.

"I-I need h-help, I don't w-want to keep feeling like this." Matt says, shaking, still trying to catch his breath and reel himself in. Nick and Chris eye each other, nodding softly before focusing back on Matt.

"We'll get you help, whatever you need to be ok."

The reality was he was still drowning, the cold and harsh waters filling up his lungs and dragging him down, but he was close.

He was close to reaching the surface and he would continue the fight for air.

He stares into her eyes, letting her know this fight isn't over but he plans on winning.

[mintgreen-homewrecker]

Because theres some people reblogging my post, begging people to make content that allows Whizzer to embrace the little freak we all, deep inside, know he is and i actually started making a list after posting that

A list of headcanons of Weird Shit Whizzer Does:

Whizzer will drink tea in phases 

he will get a new tea and only drink that one for an indeterminate period of time 

could be a few days, could be nine months 

When they were first dating whizzer was on a streak with a specific tea

Marvin was convinced it was his all time favorite and bought like 5 boxes 

Then Whizzer just stopped drinking it and started drinking another one, that one lasted about a month 

After the 5th tea Marvin gave up stocking up on Whizzer’s “favorite” tea bc he already had about 8 unopened boxes of teabags of different kinds of tea he literally never drank again  

Meanwhile the opened ones just sit collecting dust 

When Whizzer watches baseball he gets so absorbed he forgets other shit he was doing 

This led to a new house rule in the form of a note on the wall above the stove:

No food on the stove or in the oven during a baseball game. I WILL turn it off and leave it there. I love you - Marvin 

Whizzer wanted to prove him wrong so he started making something before the next baseball game

the following morning he discovered whatever it was that he was making, moved off the stove top with the stove turned off - he did forget

occasionally he will still try to prove that "Marv, this time I won't. Seriously. Stop looking at me like that."

Whizzer is constantly buying exotic new condoms to try out 

At least one landed each of them in the ER bc of an allergy they didn’t know they had 

Every time they ended up there Whizzer, without fail, says “Well, now we know.” 

Meanwhile Marvin - usually the one to try them first because Whizzer is very convincing (in this regard to literally only Marvin) - will sit there with a rash and cursing himself for going along with it

Whizzer is athletic but NOT flexible

They found out the hard way 

Whizzer will try and fail to prove his mediocre flexibility 

Marvin continuously has to try and stop him from discolating something

When doing a foldover stretch he just kind of gets stuck mid-way and blames it on his legs being too long; but that doesn't mean he won't try; sometimes Marvin would randomly catch him trying to get all the way down and will tease him about it until they have sex - after that he started doing it on purpose

When he’s mad he will put any and everything out of Marvin’s reach

Everything and i mean EVERYTHING

If Marvin really fucks up that includes their stash of toilet paper

in the healthy iteration he will still do it but he got Marvin a step stool

Whizzer will say he loves French music but he could not name even one song

If someone asks him what his favorite song is, he either changes the subject or makes up something that sounds vaguely French and hopes the person he is talking to will buy it

Marvin actually believed him until Charlotte had a friend from France visit for a week

Marvin refuses to let him live it down - mostly because Whizzer will resort to sex to distract him; Whizzer is fully aware that Marvin is doing it for precisely that reason and just goes along with it

Whizzer will rearrange Marvin’s socks to mess with him

Because (of course) Marvin has a system for his socks and Whizzer knows how said Sock System works, Whizzer will find the most obtuse and convoluted way to mess with the sock system in ways that aren't immediately obvious

feel free to add your own headcanons

[yall-batman-fanfic]

That One Coworker | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician

Synopsis: The woes of having a hot boyfriend. Vivian has an annoying colleague who won’t stop swooning over Bruce, and isn’t even trying to hide her “little crush”.

Keynote Speaker. That was the agenda. Vivian was invited to a convention for Art Historians and Historians in general in California, specifically in Star City. Since it was a three day event, she was given personal accommodations by the event organizers in a good hotel that wasn’t far from the venue; and since it was a convention for historians and art historians, some of her colleagues were also going. 

Dick tried to get her to let him come along, but if he did he’ll miss school and patrol, but they're mostly concerned with school. The twelve-year-old boy huffed and muttered something under his breath as he gave in to the final decision made by her and the two old men who he was living with. But just because Dick couldn’t come doesn’t mean Bruce couldn’t drop by and see her.

Day one was just Vivian doing a dry run of her presentation, making sure her slides moved on cue, her mic was good, timing perfect and within the given limit for every speaker. Day two was more for mingling with everyone and networking. In their tours, Vivian bumped into a very famous individual who she last expected to be in that place.

“Vivian Pryor!” Oliver Queen grinned when he saw Vivian.

“Mr. Queen,” Vivian said, surprised to see the man, and even more surprised that he brought her to an embrace. She turned to her colleagues and saw them just looking at her with big eyes, surprised as she was.

“Man, Bruce didn’t tell me you guys were in the city, I would have set something up for us—like a double date?” Oliver winked.

“It’s just me, actually. It’s a work-thing.”

“Oh! So he didn’t come along, huh. Well, he should have told me. I would have set something up.”

“It’s really fine—I wasn’t expecting you here, actually.”

“Well, just because Queen Industries is all about military defense and technology, we still have a thing for the arts.” In other words, he knew she was coming over and wanted to bump into Batman’s girlfriend and tease him about it. “Let’s get a picture, I’ll send it to Bruce.” Before Vivian could protest, Oliver took out his Q-Phone and took a selfie of them both. There was the teasing. “I’ll see you later, maybe we could go out for dinner?”

And there was more teasing.

“I’ll look into it, thank you, Mr. Queen.”

“Please, call me Oliver. We’re way past formalities now—if you know what I mean. I’ll see you around.”

Once he was gone, Vivian sighed in relief.

“You got some powerful friends there, Viv,” Justin came to her side. “Oliver Queen… Bruce Wayne…”

“Bruce’s is my boyfriend, Justin,” Vivian pointed out.

Justin shrugged.

“Powerful and good looking too,” said Susan, or Susie as she prefers to be called. “Come on, let’s go to your fancy hotel room and get some drinks from the mini-fridge without thinking about the bill. They did say they’ll be paying for your stay, right?”

Vivian sighed and watched as Susan walked ahead of them towards the elevator.

Susan Yung, professor in art history, alongside Vivian, and someone who likes to party. She was young looking—she was just the same age as her—and is rocking the pencil skirt. Everyone in their department wonders how she manages to make the pencil skirt work and bear to wear one all day. Vivian couldn’t stand pencil skirts, when she was still studying and had to wear one for something, she couldn’t keep up with the other students whenever they were chasing their professor as he continued his lecture while moving rooms. And every time she goes home, she would take it off and just walk around in her underwear to feel the breeze. 

Coming to her floor, Vivian led her colleagues to her room door. As soon as she opened it with her key pass, they all froze at the entrance at what they saw.

Bruce Wayne.

Fresh out of the shower.

With only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Viv,” Bruce greeted.

“I-I–what are you… doing here? No, scratch that, I know—how did you get in my hotel room?”

“You told me your accommodations, and you mentioned at the front desk to give me access whenever and if ever I come by,” Bruce approached her and kissed her cheek.

“You didn’t call me that you were.”

“I wanted to surprise you, and it looks like I did,” his gaze shifted to Justin, Susie, and Katherin. “And you’re not the only one. Hi.”

“Mr. Wayne!” Katherin looked away in embarrassment. Their older colleague was getting all flustered seeing a man, who wasn’t her husband, nearly naked as the day he was born. Or the fact he was giving her a free Magic Mike show.

“Kirk,” Bruce nodded at Justin’s direction.

“Wayne,” Justin muttered, quite disappointed that Vivian’s boyfriend was there. He was hoping to have the weekend with her… even if it was with their colleagues.

“Susie, a pleasure, Mr. Wayne,” Susie brushed past Vivian and held out her hand to Bruce.

Was she expecting him to kiss it? Vivian thought.

Bruce took her hand and shook it firmly. “A pleasure. I’ll head inside to get some clothes.”

“Don’t bother,” Susie purred.

“Okay, time for you to go!” Vivian ushered them out. “I will see you later at dinner—”

“I got us reservations at the hotel restaurant,” Bruce told her.

“--breakfast! I’ll see you all at breakfast before my presentation!” Closing the door, Vivian sighed and hit her forehead on the door. Repeatedly. She kept going until she felt a palm stopping.

“I’m sorry if this upset you,” Bruce said.

“No, it didn’t,” Vivian turned to him. “I’m glad you’re here… I just… if I had known, I wouldn’t have brought Susie to my room.”

Bruce pulled her to the bed where he sat and kept hold of her. “Why?”

“I didn’t tell you this before because of how stupid it is, but Susie—like any other woman—has a huge crush on you. And I know it shouldn’t bother me but it just does…”

“You sure it’s not something she does that’s bothering you?” He kissed her wrist.

“She won’t stop ogling at your photo on my desk…”

“I have a photo on your desk?” He grinned slightly.

Vivian pinched him.

“And she won’t stop saying if we ever break up, I should give her a good reference for you or something—it’s a joke but, I don’t know…”

Bruce hummed  in thought. “If it makes you feel any better, I feel the exact same whenever you’re with Kirk.”

“Justin?” Vivian raised a brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, we both know he’s into you before and he still is even when we’re dating for—years now. And it’s one of the reasons why I came to Star City.”

A lopsided grin came to her lips, and Vivian straddled Bruce on the bed. “So, it’s because of Justin you came to Star City? Why not share a room with him instead? I’m sure he’d love the company.”

Bruce took her arm and in one swoop, she was beneath him on the bed. “I came here for you. I don’t give a damn about Justin Kirk or Susan Yung.” He leaned down and kissed her lips.

“You know,” she spoke between kisses. “If ever you’re going to cheat on me—”

“I would never.”

“---I’d take it very well if it’s Justin.”

Bruce stopped in his kisses and gave her an incredulous look.

She laughed. “You both have this tension between you and it’s a good plot for a romance movie.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he got off of her.

“Or Clark. I don’t mind if it was Clark!”

Bruce went back to the bathroom and closed the door after him. 

“Bruce, come on,” Vivian went to the bathroom door and knocked. “I was joking. Open the door, please? I promise, I’ll stop teasing you.” No response. “My love, please don’t be mad at me.” The door opened. “We are good now—hey!” Bruce pulled her into the bathroom and pressed her against the shower wall. 

She saw the smirk on his face. “Don’t even think about turning it on. These are my favorite shoes, Wayne. And my favorite blouse.”

“You can fix that later,” Bruce leaned in and kissed her deeply. He had discarded his towel, and was unbuttoning her trousers when he turned on the shower.

Vivian let out a squeak, shocked with the cold water, then she gave him a pointed look, “Unbelievable, Wayne.”

“I’ll get you a new one, now take off your clothes, Pryor.”

~ * ~

Just as promised, Vivian joined her colleagues for breakfast, and with her was Bruce. The couple brought their plates—filled with food from the buffet—to the table where Justin and the others were and went on with their meal. 

“Ready for the presentation later?” Grant asked her.

“I am,” Vivian answered.

“No last minute jitters? Need a barf bag?”

Justin stopped before he could take another scoop of his soup, “Grant, come on, man. We’re having breakfast. Geez.”

The older man laughed. 

“Don’t worry, I’m ready,” Vivian sighed. “I’m relaxed.”

“I made sure you have a glass of scotch in the backroom before you start,” Bruce teased her.

“Don’t need it this time, but much appreciated,” she chuckled.

“Well,” Susie arrived with Katherin with their breakfast, and she sat right across Bruce.. “That was a long line.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not even halfway through our plates, eat up,” said Grant.

“Oh, I will,” Susie took one of the sausages she got and started eating. Bruce was sure he saw her glancing at his way before she would take it in her mouth. He paid no mind to it, he turned to Vivian and only focused on her and their meal.

“What are everyone’s plans today?” Susie asked. 

“Well, Via’s got her presentation, I’m heading here,” said Justin. “And right after that I’m heading to the panel for Dr. Lansky.”

“Lansky? Gosh, I’m jealous!” Vivian commented.

“I’ll get you her autograph.”

“Well, I just might join you with Lansky,” said Susie. “What about you, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce froze when he felt a foot from across the table, brushing against his ankle. And it wasn’t Vivian’s. “Got any plans?”

Bruce cleared his throat and adjusted his seating, pulling his feet and legs away from Susie’s reach. “It’s obvious I came to watch Vivian.”

“After that I have a book signing,” Vivian told him. 

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

“Bruce, I appreciate the effort, and I love you for it, but come on,” she held his hand. “Go and explore, you might find your old professors here.”

“You went to Yale, right?” Susie asked. For some reason she still managed to reach his leg and was caressing it with her foot. 

“I did, I took law in Yale. But I also got criminal science, forensics, computer science, chemistry and engineering in GU,” Bruce pulled back his chair and angled himself to face Vivian.

“Wow, someone’s got time… and money,” Justine muttered, which earned a kick from Vivian at the shin. “Ow, right, right. Sorry… What got you to taking those? It’s kind of far from a law degree or business, don’t you think?”

“Wayne Enterprises dwells with science and technology. For me to lead WE effectively, I also need to understand what goes on in the industry. I want to have an intimate understanding about the fields of my industry.”

“Intimate, you say,” Susie smirked.

Bruce held her hand. “I always put my one hundred percent in everything I do.” His phone rang, Bruce looked at the caller and he got up. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

Leaving the table, Bruce went out of the buffet and ended the call. Not long, Vivian followed him out.

“I felt that you needed an escape route,” Vivian said. “Someone’s persistent.”

“She was playing footsie. Thanks.”

“No problem… act as if you’re still in the call and make it look like it’s important.”

Bruce pressed his hand on his bluetooth earpiece and did as he was told. Though he was speaking to Vivian. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really Viv?”

She sighed. “Pissed at Susie but what can I say? Everyone wants a piece of my boyfriend.”

“I can say the same with my girlfriend,” he chuckled. “Justin seems to be… tolerable.”

“I told him to be nice.”

Bruce ended his act and wrapped an arm around Vivian’s waist. “You sure you’re not nervous?”

“A little.” she shrugged.

“Then let’s head up stairs so I can relax you a bit.”

Vivian welcomed the kiss on her cheek, but when she turned to the direction of the buffet, she saw her colleagues watching them. Grant and Katherin grinning from ear to ear, while Justin and Susie weren’t too happy with the sight.

“I think I’d like that proposition, Wayne.”

~ * ~

The presentation was a success. Vivian was able to capture the attention of the room throughout and got interesting questions from the guest. The entire time, Bruce sat at the front that was reserved for Vivian's plus-one for the event and couldn't stop smiling at the sight of her doing her work. She once told him how she liked to watch him work, that's why whenever she was in the manor, she would bring her things to his study and do it there so she could see him knit his brows while reading an email or documents that were sent over for him to go through.

Maybe that's what he was feeling too. Seeing her stand there with confidence, discussing her work with that look on her face---full of passion and excitement---and, it was more of a personal preference, wearing that tweed trousers and jacket. People don't usually find it sexy but…

Right after her lecture, Vivian was brought to one of the booths for a book signing. The line wasn't as long as any New York Bestseller fiction novels, but she got a line from people in her industry. 

Approaching her, Bruce placed a cup of coffee at the side and whispered to her ear, “I'll wait for you outside.”

“Yes,” Vivian chuckled. “Look around, have fun… that is if you'll find the world of art and history fun.”

“You forget, Pryor, my mother was an enthusiast of the arts,” he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I'll go look around. See you later, my love.”

Vivian blushed. He doesn't, usually, call her that in public. Then there was the crowd who howled teasingly at her. “Okay, okay, go! Shoo!” Vivian hid her blushing face from him.

Bruce kissed the top of her head one last time and left. Taking his leave from her booth, Bruce walked around the grounds, peeking through multimedia rooms that were occupied by panels, book signing booths, and some professors he knew back in his time in university drinking more than they should. Hell, one of his old professors saw him and asked how he’s been.

In his rounds, Bruce came across a little souvenir shop that geeky shirts and hats that only HUMSS academia would laugh at. He decided to get a shirt for Dick to see if he'll get the joke, and a book for Alfred.

“Shopping already, Mr. Wayne?” Susie appeared at the line with her purchase.

“Something for my ward and my butler,” Bruce answered.

“I always forget that you have a kid, you don't seem the type.”

“Looks can be deceiving sometimes,” he paid for his purchase, thanked the staff, and dropped a good tip into their jar. “I'll see you around.”

Right as he left the store to find his way back to Vivian, Susie followed him. “In a hurry?”

“I'm just heading back to see Vivian.”

“She's not done,” Susie rolled her eyes. “Professor Perfect is still greeting her fans…”

Bruce's brows furrowed. 

“Come on,” she smirked. “Don't tell me it doesn't get on your nerves. How she has this little-miss-goody-two-shoes rep, but we all know that's not real. But everyone loves her. Who wouldn't?”

“Viv's a good person, that's why,” Bruce told her. “She's kind to her students and her colleagues.”

“She has got her hands wrapped around you, huh, Wayne?” Susie walked up to him, brushing her hand on the lapel of his blazer. “Do you really know her?”

Bruce remained quiet.

“I heard Vivian Pryor only got to where she was because she got close with her mentor.”

Wrong but some truths were there.

Yes, Vivian slept with one of her professors back when she was in her exchange student program in Italy. But that man didn't become her full on mentor for her studies. That man was just a professor in that university in Italy. Her mentor, as of now, was the current Head of the College of Liberal Arts, Social Science and Philosophy. Their college and department. 

Vivian got her degree clean. 

She got her book published with hard work.

The connections she made are sincere. She even told Bruce she hasn't spoken to that Italian professor since she left Italy, and they promised that if they ever run into each other again it would be like old friends. Nothing more.

Bruce took Susie's hand and placed it down then he stepped back from her. “You are right on one thing about Vivian. She is perfect. She's perfect because she knows she's far from being perfect. She makes mistakes, some bad calls, but she learns. And she got to be to keynote speaker for this event because of her hard work and because she's a good person. Not a two-headed serpent who tries to bite someone at their back… and she has the guts to actually face someone head on and not do whatever this is you're doing.”

Susie's eyes were wide in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Don't think I won't tell my girlfriend about this either—and just so you know, Vivian never once forgot about Dick. Excuse me, I have to meet up with Vivian.”

Just as Bruce was going to walk away, he saw Justin Kirk standing a couple of paces ahead, blocking the path he was going to take, from the looks of it he saw everything. He looked at him with a narrowed gaze.

Justin chuckled, “Told you, he's not interested in you.”

“Fuck you, Justin!” Susie started walking away.

“Viv's almost done,” he told Bruce.

“Thanks,” Bruce muttered and walked past him.

“Hey, Wayne.”

Bruce stopped.

“You were right about Vivian. She is perfect… so don't fuck it up.”

He didn't reply but deep in his heart, Bruce had no plans on doing so.

~ * ~

“Is it just me or has Susie stopped putting on the MIss Congeniality face?” Vivian said as she got out of the bathroom wearing her pajamas---a pair of gym shorts and her GU campus shirt---and joined Bruce in bed. She was about to get under the covers but he pulled her to sit on his lap instead. His hand caressing her thigh which reached to her behind.

“Maybe she was just tired,” Bruce shrugged.

“Bruce…”

“Am I fucking things up?”

“What?”

“Am I?”

Vivian sighed. She traced her hand on his chest, brushing through the chest hair and tracing the scars that were there. “Far from it. You'd know if you were.”

He does.

Vivian Pryor has no time for bullshit. 

She'll up and leave.

Hovering over him, her red hair became a curtain between them and the outside world, and from the lamp at the bedside, it looked like her hair was a curtain of fire. He loved that hair. She leaned down and kissed his lips and then his nose. 

“I love you, Batman,” she whispered.

“I love you, Professor.”

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: March 23

2019

A Feeling [david/patrick, G, 1,675] by Dreamformetoo

Patrick bought the apartment and now he wants David to help him pick out furniture. Does he not see how terrible an idea that is?

boys in love at target [david/patrick, G, 440] by livelyvague

Little ficlet based on a tumblr post; "If my future s/o doesn’t stare at me like I’m their whole world while I stand like a crackhead in the candle section of target smelling every single candle before buying one then whats the point"

incapable of faking sincerity... [david/patrick, G, 1,147] by @startswithhope

Stevie lets her feelings be known about Patrick and David getting married...

My One and Only [david/patrick, T, 1,373] by @thefirstmrshummel

This is my first Patrick POV story. Big thanks to Dan Levy’s writing and Noah Reid’s performance for peeling back all of Patrick’s layers so I could finally understand him enough to do so. A shout out and fist bump to all us only children out there.

2020

A Case of You [david/patrick, T, 6,079] by @doublel27

Five times Patrick gives David an utterly ridiculous gift for Valentine's Day and one time David does something really romantic

Thank You, Mr. Rose [stevie & johnny, G, 776] by anonymous

Stevie has feelings after Emir dumps her at the Hospies, and Mr. Rose comforts her.

The Accountant's Conference [patrick & ray, G, 1,611] by alldaydream

Patrick left home to attend an Accountant's Conference in Elmdale looking for a new beginning when he meets a friendly face. - Set during 3x05

2021

[Podfic] The Rosebud Diamond [david/patrick, M, podfic] by Amanita_Fierce @noahreids

His new client was tall, dark, and handsome, with cheekbones that could cut glass, and legs that wouldn’t quit. * Patrick is a detective. David is his mysterious client. There’s a priceless diamond, a masquerade ball, murder, thievery, blackmail, secrets, betrayal, gangsters, smoking, whiskey, and angst galore. (And a happy ending.) It’s a film noir AU. [Podfic of "The Rosebud Diamond" written by vivianblakesunrisebay]

And now I see daylight [david/patrick, G, 1,048] by @kiwiana-writes

“There’s something I want to show you.” “Mmkay, and it couldn’t wait until—” He picks up his phone, squinting blearily at the lock screen. The time is right there, in large numbers above a photo of him and Patrick dancing at the wedding, but— “Patrick, what the fuck? It’s the middle of the night!”

blues and then purple pink skies [alexis/twyla, G, 2,150] by @sarahlevys

"Is that everything?" Alexis finds herself reaching for Twyla's backpack before she can stop herself, and she puts on a laugh that sounds shrill even to her own ears. Sure enough, the bag's empty: no ring to be seen anywhere. She pats it down, then looks back up to find Twyla watching her. "Everything?" "Yes." Twyla leans in, and Alexis meets her halfway for a kiss. "Are you all right, Alexis?" Twyla wants to go on a picnic. Alexis, who has never once in her life gone on a picnic, thinks about that one time that David was coerced into a picnic, which was secretly a hike, which was secretly a proposal, and freaks out.

Cartoon Birds [david/patrick, E, 1,342] by @januarium

This particular game was one of those where Patrick's team had done well enough it had ended faster than usual, so David's feeling extra magnanimous. At the bar Patrick is constantly flitting around, checking people have drinks and making sure he talks to everyone, but every few minutes he returns to David. He checks in, kisses him deeply, then notices someone else he should talk to and promises he'll be back in a minute. David goes for drinks with the team after a baseball game, then takes his husband home.

do you know me better [david/patrick, G, 1,513] by @5ambreakdown

David’s mouth opens and closes quite a few times - not unlike a fish, though Patrick would be a dead man if he ever told David that - as if Patrick revealed that he’s actually an undercover agent for the FBI shadowing the Roses and not just someone who throws a carton of fruit in the basket for his boyfriend when he goes grocery shopping. or, sometimes your boyfriend keeps a food that only you like at his place and it's *a lot*

For Better or Worse, Richer or Poorer [david/patrick, T, 3,894] by DawnDust

David gets mugged and loses something very precious to him. Patrick deals with the aftermath.

Guinea [roland/jocelyn, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

it's a hockey thing [patrick & twyla, G, 188]. by @wafflesfriendswork

Patrick and Twyla bond over hockey. David is confused.

Ocean and Sky [david/patrick, G, 4,199] by @smallumbrella369

A few days after inadvertently hurting his feelings, David goes to rescue a drunk Patrick from the Wobbly Elm.

out of the park [david/patrick, T, 1,931] by @hullomoon

When David joins a softball fundraiser for a class he didn't expect to fall a little for the cute team captain

2022

[Podfic] Fine Repairs [david/patrick, T, podfic] by @hullomoon

“This is Patrick—he’ll be joining us! He’s a horologist.” David nods and sticks out his hand. “David. I’m the ceramic conservation and restoration expert.” [podfic of Fine Repairs]

Back Against the Wall [david/patrick, E, 751] by mallpretzles

Patrick groaned as David pressed him up against the wall. He stepped into Patrick’s space and bracketed his head with his forearms. “You’ve been winding me up all day,” David growled.

Bus Etiquettes [david/patrick, NR, 2,109] by marchtwentyfour

People watching is possibly Patrick’s only favourite thing about riding the bus. Or, really, watching one (1) person, really.

Dreams [roland & jocelyn, T, 1,440] by @wearpersistencewell

Jocelyn’s dreams seem to change with the tide. But a little surfing never hurt anyone! Or, a study of Jocelyn before and during the series.

Estate Planning Made Easy [david/patrick, T, 1,298] by @treluna4

After multiple failed attempts, Patrick had a plan. A good plan. This time it would work. He bought David’s favorite bottle of wine and stopped for pizzas on the way home. He also picked up a mini molten chocolate lava cake. The one that made David emit the kind of sound Patrick only ever heard him make in the bedroom. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough food in the world to get his husband to talk about estate planning.

I'm Not the Man They Think I Am At Home [david/patrick, E, 39,787] by @themelancholyvegetable

David and Patrick room together as Space Camp counselors in the summer of 2008.

It'll Be Alright When the Morning Comes [stevie/rachel, M, 16,200] by @hullomoon @kindofspecificstore

“So this is today. Today is yesterday, and tomorrow is also today. It’s one of those,” Stevie sighs, voice reverting to a mumble, “infinite time loop situation you might have heard about.” Rachel shifts on the sofa, the bare back of her thighs pulling against the rough material. She needs to know this isn’t a joke. (a Palm Springs AU)

MURDER in Schitt's Creek [gen, T, 6,204] by @rosedavid

Ray is on the case with his latest podcast series "MURDER in Schitt's Creek!" Follow along with Ray's investigation into the mysterious death at the motel. (AKA an AU of Dead Guy in Room Four)

One Prairie Outpost [david/patrick, T, 3,192] by @wearpersistencewell

They say you can't go home again, and when Patrick visits Manitoba for the first time in years, he thinks this might be true. After all, a lot has changed - and his friends and family don't know half of it. Takes place between "Singles Week" and "Merry Christmas, Johnny Rose."

Schitt's Creek Unsolved [david/patrick, G, 1,945] by @spockinaa

what it says on the tin: buzzfeed unsolved, but make it schitt's creek

Shut Up & Drive [david/patrick, M, 4,984] by px_papercrown

David loses a bet and gets dragged to a road race where he meets a man he was convinced could not exist, who helps him hide from all of his problems and maybe even learn to save himself. People are passing around them, have been for a bit now, but David doesn’t notice. He’s standing in the dank back lot of an old building, surrounded by degenerates of varying degrees, with liquor flowing and smokes toking, engines revving loud - growling like they’ve got live jaguars under-hood. And all he can see is this sassy asshole in front of him. The look he gets in return weakens his knees, steady and sure, like the calm before a storm. Maybe Patrick’s not unaffected after all.

The Seven Husbands of Alexis Rose [+Art!] [alexis/twyla, T, 18,763] by @sarahlevys @hagface

My name is Alexis Rose. But you knew that already, didn't you? There's no need for shyness. You don't need to pretend that you didn't Google me before you read this article, or that you don't know who I am. I shouldn't misspeak, though: you think you know who I am. You have an idea of who Alexis Rose is. Maybe you've never seen any of my movies. Maybe you think I'm washed up, someone only your parents care about. Maybe you think I'm irrelevant. Maybe you think I'm a whore. Oh, don't duck your head. I guarantee you're not the first person to ever let that idea enter your mind, and you won't be the last. In 2015, Alexis Rose pens a tell-all for Vogue, promising to finally tell the truth about all seven of those infamous husbands and then some...

Wild Horses [johnny/moira, T, 1,524] by @wearpersistencewell

Loving Moira Rose is an emotional roller coaster - but Johnny is willing to ride.

2024

[Fan Art] Open Mic Night Sweater [gen, G, fanart] by @mammameesh

Ramblings on how to make your own Open Mic Night holiday ornament

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017, 2018, or 2023 2019: 4 fics/4,635 words 2020: 3 fics/8,466 words 2021: 10 fanworks (9 fics, 1 podfic)/16,622 words 2022: 13 fanworks (11 fics, 1 fic/fanart combo, 1 podfic)/98,222 2024: 1 fanart Total: 31 fanworks (27 fics, 1 fic/fanart combo, 2 podfics, 1 fanart)/128,060 words

[surielstea]

Omg hiii! Im so happy your requests are open again cuz my mind has been stuck on a particular trio for far too long. I was thinking maybe azriel x Eris x reader where reader is part of the inner circle and close with Az and then a ball happens and she walks in the room with all the Inner Circle ladies looking GORG and goes to stand next to az talking and everything. Eris notices her and asks Lucien about her and her connection to the shadow singer. Later on he feels a pull or idk (do wtv you want here you know better lmao) and asks rhysand for a night with both. I haven't really decided how I'd like this to go as in the "ask rhys for a night " isn't rlly my fav part here but if you could do it as a slow burn where their both territorial towards her but then discover that not only are they mated to her but to each other too and go crazy in bed while figuring how to tell everyone else and if they actually want to accept the bond blah blah blah (I'M SORRY I'LL GO BACK TO MY CAGE RIGHT AFTER THIS.) I know it's kind of messy but I would be so thankful if you actually made this work ❤❤! Even if you don't or can't I completely understand and I'll just keep feeding off the other AMAZING fics you give us every day 💗💗. Btw I love your writing so so much and can't wait for more of your posts!!!

GUYSSSS!!!

First of all, I love your energy. I'm sorry I took so long to respond to this masterpiece of a request please come out of your cage anon 😚😚

Second of all, OH MY GOD, I'M IN LOVEEEEE. Azris x reader is my Roman empire. I live for it. Their tension is chef's kiss so I'm so happy this was requested. I'm planning on this being pretty long, so I'm unsure when it'll be out exactly, but in the meantime, while you wait, here's a snippet that I just sped wrote in excitement for this:

You stare at them both. At the realization that’s unfolded before you like a grand, inevitable tragedy—or a masterpiece still in the making. You inhale. Deciding one thing for certain. "I need a drink." Eris turns toward you, golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “Do you?” He steps forward, closing the space between you with a slow prowl. “Or do you just need something to soothe the tension?” He steps further into the room, languid and self-assured, his scent of ember and crisp autumn air curling into the space between you. His eyes flick to Azriel, whose shadows shift, restless, as if mirroring the tension in his jaw. Azriel is silent. But he feels it; you know he does. Eris notices it, too. "Not even a snide remark, Shadowsinger?" His voice is velvet-wrapped amusement. "Unusual for you. Unless, of course, you’re too busy realizing that what you’ve been avoiding has been right in front of you all along." Azriel exhales sharply through his nose. "You talk too much." "I make up for all the times you say too little," Eris smirks, tilting his head. "It’s frustrating, isn’t it? How much we understand each other without ever saying a word?" Azriel tenses, but you see it again—that flicker. That split second where he doesn’t deny it. And gods, the realization is exhilarating.

Let me know if you'd like to be included in the tagsss :)

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 26)

“You sleep alright?” you ask Niall, amused as he trudges sleepily into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions.

He nods wordlessly and climbs onto one of the island stools. You flick the kettle on, grabbing two cups from the cupboard.

Cillian is by the door, signing for several packages that have just arrived.

“Want some toast?” you offer, pulling out a loaf of bread for yourself.

“Yes, please,” he mumbles, already sliding off the stool to see what his father is up to.

“What’s that?” Niall asks as he watches Cillian haul a large box into the dining area, setting it down with a thud.

“It’s a cot. For your sister,” Cillian tells him, patting the box before ruffling his son’s hair.

“Cot’s here,” Cillian announces as he steps into the kitchen.

“Already?” You raise an eyebrow, eyeing the large box. “Wanna help me put it up after breakfast?” you ask Niall as he spreads jam onto his toast.

“What’s a cot for?” he asks, licking a bit of jam from his thumb.

“For the baby to sleep in. When she’s bigger, at least. There’s also a smaller one that goes beside the bed, but I haven’t bought that one yet,” you explain, placing a fresh cup of coffee in front of Cillian. “Coffee?”

He nods in thanks, wrapping his hands around the mug but not drinking just yet. Instead, he watches you.

You’re 26 weeks along now, glowing with warmth and softness, and he finds himself caught up in it—the quiet hum of the morning, the scent of coffee and toast in the air, the sound of Niall crunching away at his breakfast. It’s domestic, simple, and yet, to him, it’s everything.

And then you move, just slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you sip your own drink, and the whole room seems to brighten.

Niall had come over a few days after Christmas. Cillian had missed him, not being able to spend the holiday together, so he made sure to soak up every moment. The day was spent lounging around as Niall tore through his presents, excitement buzzing through him like a live wire. You watched The Grinch with him—his favorite Christmas movie—curled up on the couch under a shared blanket while he laughed at all the parts he already knew by heart.

After he finally went to bed, you put on another movie, but you only made it halfway before sleep started pulling at your limbs. Eventually, you gave in, the warmth of Cillian’s arm draped over you as you both made your way to bed.

“So when’s the baby coming exactly?” Niall asks between bites.

“Spring,” you answer, refilling Cillian’s coffee. “Not too long now.”

Niall chews thoughtfully for a moment, then tilts his head. “And how did the baby get in there?”

Cillian nearly chokes on his coffee, clearing his throat as he shoots his son a look. “Alright, leave Y/N alone,” he says, shaking his head. “Finish your toast before it gets cold.”

Niall hurries through the rest and pushes his plate away. “Can I go play with my new Legos?”

“Off you go,” Cillian tells him, amused.

You giggle as Niall scrambles off his stool and disappears into the living room.

“A whole other bunch of stuff arrived at my flat,” you tell Cillian. “Do you want to pick them up and maybe start on the nursery?”

“Sure,” he nods, then smirks. “Not like I had other plans for today.”

You roll your eyes, knowing full well you’d agreed on this last night. “Alright, let me get ready.”

After a trip to your place and a stop at the supermarket, you return home, have lunch, and finally start tidying up the nursery for your baby girl.

Cillian assembles the cot first, then moves on to a chest of drawers. Meanwhile, you sit beside him on the floor, munching on chocolate biscuits and offering occasional commentary.

“You gonna help anytime soon?” Cillian asks, glancing at you with a raised brow.

“I did,” you argue. “I folded the sheets and took apart the old bed frame.”

“For five minutes,” he counters. “Then you got ‘tired’ and started dancing.”

You shrug, unbothered. “Well, what else is there to do? I can’t do anything until the dresser is put together.”

“You could make me something to eat,” he suggests pointedly, setting down his screwdriver.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, dragging yourself off the floor like it’s the hardest task in the world. “Fine. I’ll bring you something.”

Cillian shakes his head, amused as you shuffle out of the room.

Niall is sprawled out on the lounge floor, deeply focused on his Lego set. You make your way to the kitchen and grab a bag of salt and vinegar chips from the cupboard, tossing them into Cillian’s lap when you return.

“There. A gourmet meal.”

Cillian catches the bag and smirks. “How thoughtful of you.”

You plop back down on the floor, breaking off another piece of chocolate biscuit as you watch him work.

“Carry on,” you say lazily, waving a hand. “You’re doing great.”

You smile at the sight of him, feeling warm and content as you lazily run your hand over your belly—until a sharp, stinging sensation spreads through it.

Your stomach tightens suddenly, the muscles going rigid beneath your touch. You inhale sharply, shifting uncomfortably.

Cillian notices immediately. “You alright?” He puts down the screwdriver, eyes flicking to your belly.

“Yeah… I think it’s just Braxton Hicks,” you murmur, pressing a hand against the firm curve of your stomach, waiting for it to pass.

Cillian’s brows knit together in concern. “You sure?”

You exhale slowly, nodding as the tension begins to ease. “Yeah. I think.”

He watches you closely, still unconvinced, before reaching out and rubbing slow, soothing circles over your bump. “Want me to ring the midwife?” His voice is calm, but you can see the worry in his eyes—the anxious thoughts creeping in, mirroring your own.

You try to keep your tone reassuring. “Cillian, it’s fine. I’ll call her tomorrow”

Just as the words leave your mouth, a sharp pain shoots through you, forcing you to suck in a breath. “Ow!” You press your lips together, wincing.

Your belly tightens again—hard as a rock beneath your fingertips, the sensation deep and cramping, like a period pain dialed up to ten. You instinctively press your hands against it, as if trying to ease the pressure.

Cillian is on his feet in an instant. “Here—come on.” He reaches for you, steadying you as you take his hand.

You lean into him, one hand clutching his shoulder, the other still on your belly as you instinctively begin to rock your hips back and forth, trying to ride it out. The motion is awkward, almost comical, but strangely effective.

Cillian watches you with both amusement and concern. “That helping?”

“Weirdly… yeah,” you whisper, focusing on the movement. “There you go,” you murmur to your belly, exhaling as the tension starts to fade.

After a few more slow breaths, the pain finally subsides.

You straighten up with a relieved sigh, laughing breathlessly. “All done.”

Cillian shakes his head, exhaling his own tension. “Jesus, woman. You scared me.”

You grin, giving your belly a gentle pat. “Welcome to the next ten weeks.”

Cillian smiles as you push yourself up and walk over to the unfinished dresser, lowering yourself carefully to sit beside it. You pick up the instruction manual, flipping through the pages.

“You’re gonna help now?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you not want me to help?”

Your sudden shift in tone makes him hesitate, and then he lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t mind,” he says, shaking his head, biting back a smirk. He’s getting used to these mood swings, but they still amuse him every time.

You huff and start scanning the instructions while he goes back to work, glancing at you now and then, the fondness in his eyes unmistakable.

A little while later, it’s time for Cillian to take Niall back to Siobhan’s.

“I’ll be back soon,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips before grabbing his keys.

By the time Cillian gets back, the nursery looks much more put together. The cot is fully assembled, the chest of drawers neatly pushed against the wall, and you’re kneeling in front of it, carefully folding tiny onesies and tucking them away in the drawers. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs from the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Nestin’ already.” 

“Bet i look fat” you say. You glance over your shoulder and roll your eyes. “I just got bored waiting for you.” 

“Sure you did.” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s something else in the way his eyes sweep over you—the soft curve of your belly, the way your sweater clings to your form, the gentle way you’re handling the baby’s clothes.

He steps closer, crouching behind you, his hands settling on your hips. “You look perfect.”

You let out a small scoff, but when he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, you shiver. “You’ve been working hard. Maybe you should let me take care of you for a bit.”

His hands slide forward, warm against the curve of your stomach. You hum, closing the drawer slowly, letting yourself lean back into his touch. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your jaw. “C’mere.”

You turn in his arms, looking up at him, and there’s something heavy in the air between you—anticipation, desire, the kind of hunger that lingers even after all these months.

“What if I’m too tired?” you tease, watching the way his jaw ticks.

He smirks, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, tracing slow circles against your skin. “Then I guess I’ll just have to be very gentle with you.”

And when he kisses you, slow and deep, you realize you don’t feel all that tired after all.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog @cillianmurphyfanatic @meister95

[ibrithir-was-here]

.

[moeblob]

[baekhyunsbestie]

hello! i really like your fics 🥵

i just saw him in latex gloves and it made my mind go crazy.. like… imagine gynaecologist!Baekhyun, examining the reader with his slender fingers ahh it’d be pure heaven 😇

(sorry if it’s weird, i hate my mind too)

hahahaha thank u for loving my fics, babie! <3 :') omg YES the latex gloves and the doctor coat had me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 wow i kinda need to write gynecologist!baekhyun asap

[rainbows-caught-on-film]

I miss California...

[madamechrissy]

Took you Like a Shot

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

Summary- One VERY drunk encounter between your greatest rival ever - on your last day of college- leads to you being knocked up. Satoru Gojo, a fuckboy, fratboy, rich little jerk, has been a rival of yours since you all met in College, every damn grade you fought for he got with ease. He crashed every Sorority party you threw. The two of you are so infamous in your rivalry, your friend groups were rivals, and for some reason, life is playing some damn joke on you both. Now... you have to tell him the news - but how Satoru takes it surprises you. Can you both raise a baby together!? And do you even really know each other?

Contents/Warnings- gonna be flashbacks to the rivalry/that night, nerdjo but make him a fratboy, enemies to kind of begrudging partners, but then as the pregnancy progresses, they fall in love hehe (gojo is an idiot) - fluffy and smutty, MDNI -will have explicit sex etc- 4 parts (I THINK) in this chap- flashbacks of explicit sex with dirty talk, weed smoking (Satoru and his boys aha) mentions of sex, lots of humor, enemies to loversss- WC- this chap- 8k- art in the banner by Yuana on X

Comments and reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyy <3

Masterlist - Playlist- Chapter Two>>> (extras here)

Chapter One

It had been an absolutely filthy night, that led to your doctor coming in and informing you three months later-

'You're pregnant'

You came in for a normal checkup, you're on the pill and you have no sex life, aside from one encounter almost three months ago. A filthy, questionable ass encounter with what so happened to be your former 'bully' - rich boy, frat boy, pretty boy, pretentious boy- Satoru Gojo.

For years, the two of you were rivals, not just academic either, since you were both top of your class all through college, but at everything. He'd hold your notebooks high and laugh at you, he'd try to ruin and crash every sorority event he could. Known as the Queen and King of the campus, you ran the rivaling Sorority to his Fraternity. The amount of times you all had gone toe to toe was literally notorious, even your best friends hated each other on your behalf, starting an entire war between you all.

You have no clue how it happened, still, how the two of you had the best sex of your life at that damn party, fueled by drinks but also something you'd never admit- you've always wondered. Hearing those stories about his... skills, seeing his perfect body and the way his pretty lips smirked so cruelly in your direction, even after all these years- how it all led to this moment.

'Hah, sweets, ya finally admit I'm good at something?' Satoru had murmured in your ear, while he'd had you bent right over some bed at some party- both of you were seniors in college on your last and final party, finally you thought you'd be rid of him, of this ass of a man. He was going to live the rich life, working for his family, and you were moving on to a whole different career.

'One t-thing... that's it...' You had cried out when his cock had shoved in so deep, making you cum all over him, his fingers gripping your hips while he'd pumped deeper and deeper, impossibly until he'd been right on your cervix. 'F-fuck!'

'Fuck... you had a pussy like this and we've been fighting!?' Satoru is whispering, resting his snowy locks against your neck, biting it with sharp teeth as you milk his cock. 'So greedy, huh?'

'S-shut up, mnh- just... keep... there, there shit!' Satoru had slammed right against your cervix, feeling you pulsing around him, it had been too good, too tight, too fucking wet, he'd paused then, looking at your arched ass, your skirt shoved over your hips. 'Keep g-going, please...'

'M'gonna cum, tho-she's too tight- shit can I?' 

Your drunk ass had said- sure. You're precise on that pill, every day your alarm goes off in the morning, you take it. How could...

"Pregnant!?" You repeat. Unbelievable. No fucking way. You...

"Yes sweetie I suggest prenatal and an ultrasound, hmm?" The nurse says so sweetly, as you feel sick to your stomach, which your hand goes down to touch.

Pregnant. With rich, notorious fuckboy Satoru Gojo’s baby- now you would have to tell him!?

Shit.

You take the results in a shaky hand, mind swirling as the doctor goes on and on, some crazy distant humming in your head, there’s no way, it can’t be. You’re literally starting your journalism career, thinking you’d maybe gained a few pounds from stress and ramen, the interning was absolutely brutal, you’re never regular on your periods, hence the birth control in the first place.

Running coffees here and there, grabbing this and that for everyone above you, but you were now officially hired, and you were making good money for once, finally able to pay down some of your pesky student loans and get a nice car. You worked hard for it, for everything, despite many thinking leading a sorority meant you came from money, you were a scholarship girl.

That’s a huge reason you and Satoru always clashed, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, easily acing every test that you busted your ass for, things came easy to him, you worked for it. Achieving the highest you could in your graduating class, the little shit that came to school hungover grinned right next to you, like a goddamn plague, and you hoped that finally he was gone for good.

What bonded two people like you now?

Well…

“Do you need to go over your options, hunny?” One of the nurses says, touching your shoulder with a gentle smile, you shake your head then, clearing your throat.

“I just need to… think.”

You’re pacing back and forth in your apartment, feet padding gently along the hardwood floor, cell phone in your hand, staring at the phone number that just got sent to you by Shoko. She was Satoru’s friend and yours, which was rare given the ongoing student warfare zone you all created. You’d texted her a simple- hey do you have Gojo’s number- not going into details.

How do you even tell him?

What do you say!?

You psych yourself up, finally dialing it, when he picks up the phone after the second ring, murmuring - “Hello.” God, even him answering what he assumes is a stranger is snarky.

“Um, hey.” Gojo pauses at the sound of your voice, faltering just for a moment, as his friends bounce a basketball around a court outside, he sits down on the bench, vivid images filling his head. “It’s-”

“Think I don’t know your annoying voice by heart, sweetheart?” You roll your eyes, sighing and plopping down on your couch.

“Yeah, well… I got your number from Shoko.”

“Need a second round? Should have guessed.” He’s gesturing to Suguru and Sukuna, who roll their eyes at him, and he puts his voice down an octave. “I could be convinced.”

“Jesus christ, Gojo.” You almost hang up, feeling your tummy tighten then, almost nauseous, realizing you had to talk to him. “Are you, I don’t know, um… free for lunch or anything?” You despise the words falling from your lips.

“Asking me on a date, huh? So bold, I like it.” Satoru winks now at his friend’s shocked expressions, muting for a moment, telling them it was you.

“No fucking way.” Sukuna says, Suguru snorts in laughter and Satoru just grins, unmuting you again.

“I guess I could be convinced.” He purrs out those words, chuckling. “Hmm, we could go to that nice place on Hollywood ave hmm? Perfect Sushi.”

Your tummy growls, but then you frown, remembering that Sushi is on your damn list not to eat, you curse internally, peering at this list of everything you should never do or consume, and it specifically says raw fish right there. “Do they have cooked Sushi there?”

“Pshh, you’re such a prissy ass, can’t eat raw huh? Didn’t mind it raw from what I remember.” You hate this man.

“You know what never-”

“Shit, I was just kidding.” He panics, thinking you hung up, hearing your irritated sigh then. “Yeah I think they do. Why do you even wanna hang out, ya wanna nag me in person?” He spins his basketball effortlessly on his finger, acting all calm, as if he wasn’t dying to be buried in your perfect pussy again. “Miss being bitchy to me so bad?”

God he wanted to have you on his face, have you sucking him, he wanted for so much more than you all got to do, drunken fingers and your muted cries as he’d had a big hand tight over your mouth. His cock twitches under his basketball shorts just remembering how slick and hot you were, god how you fucking felt gripping him so damn tight.

Satoru had felt you pulsing around him as he reached his arm around you, pressing his fingertips to your clit in circles, as you’re crying out against his palm, practically drooling against him. ‘There you go, cumming so easy f’me huh?’ he taunts, as his own eyes roll back, feeling your pussy drool against his hand.

‘Mnh!’ was all you managed to murmur against his hand, as he feels your gummy walls spasm around his cock, his blue eyes roll back at how perfect you feel, how long he’s dreamed of this.

‘F-finally got you to shut up, hmm?’ He taunts you, normally you’d have something smart to say, but not as he’s overstimulating your little clit, pulling it away as you damn near collapse on the mattress, your thighs shaking, he wants to kiss you so bad, but you’re burying your face, arching your ass.

‘F-fuck you, Gojo- ah!’

The memories are so vivid Satoru can barely calm his thoughts, hearing you say his name in that irritated little voice, the one that drove him insane from day fucking one, the moment he’d met you. Prissy little thing with so much to prove, he thinks you still feel that way, which the biggest secret Satoru had for you had almost spilled on that last drunken night, the night he was inside you was…

He's always wanted you, not that he'd ever admit that however.

Ever.

“Is like three okay?” You're interrupting his thoughts now, as he clears his throat.

“Three rounds?”

You’re scowling at the phone as you question your life’s choices at this very moment. “Three o'clock, my god, for lunch.”

“Sounds good, it gives us time later, to… you know.” You glare at the phone, unbelievable, he’s ridiculous! 

“Time for what?” Satoru chuckles at your high pitched question.

“Don't be shy, sweets, no need to pretend. I remember it all in vivid detail, every little bit.” Your cheeks heat up, hand clutching the phone tightly, trying to calm yourself and focus.

“Just lunch, that’s all I’m asking you for. Sounds good?”

“Want me to pick you up in my-”

“No, I'll meet you. Okay um…. Bye.” You hang up, breath coming quickly, you couldn't just tell him on the damn phone, this needed to be in person.

The thought of his pretty yet annoying ass presence damn near makes your head spin… would he think it's all a joke? Some scam to get with him or get money?

You're fucking terrified, standing and staring in the mirror, rubbing your tummy and frowning as you do. A damn baby… Likely raising it alone, knowing Satoru all these years, partying, insane and so immature. Even on the phone, he’s so damn cocky and self sure, that this must absolutely be what you want, to have him, as if you are over here pining away.

The sex was amazing to put it lightly, and sure if he was a decent guy, and not a fucking ass of a man, you’d have done it again, but the walk of shame that morning had been the most embarrassing day of your life. His little smirk after you woke up, plump lips too damn glossy for his own good, yawning and stretching half naked, cock already hard as he’d tapped his lap.

‘Another round, sweets? Come to daddy.’

You scoff even at the memory, at the audacity of fuckboi Satoru Gojo, you had run out so quickly he hadn’t had a moment to speak, and you swore to yourself never, ever again. Who cared if his cock was so big it hit places you didn’t know existed, and who cared if you’ve never felt that way, fuck you wish he actually wasn’t as good at it as he was.

Perfect at everything, infuriatingly, even fucking.

You get a text from the guy you were currently at least flirting with a bit here and there, the one you suggested going on a date, and then it all starts to hit, you’re pregnant and quite likely going to be some single mom. You couldn’t just go on dates, everything is completely different, maybe forever truly.

“Twenty Two year old single mom.” You grumble, sighing a bit as you text him you’re busy.

Busy.

*****

Satoru waits nervously at the restaurant, he doesn’t really do dates, he usually spends his time in the bedroom with a girl then runs right off. Shit, he’s never even gone without a condom before you, but when you’d said hurry up and put it in, who the fuck was he to tell you no? Not only had it felt superb, he never wanted to leave that perfect pussy.

Of course you would have the most perfect pussy.

You had to be the best at everything, all the time, didn’t you? Always competing for that top spot, but Satoru always just barely got past you, that .01% of that GPA, winning every contest over you always by just a tiny bit. From the moment you glared up at him and crossed your arms, he knew it, he had to do everything he could to win against your cute little ass.

Here’s the thing… Satoru never hated you, but he loves to say he does, you both say you do, or… well, said. Considering you slept with him and didn’t say a single word after, it’s not like he’s hard to find, but each of you actively refused to add each other on socials, though Satoru will admit he stalks your IG, you’re too fucking pretty not to do so, not that he’d ever like a post.

Once he accidentally did, god he wanted to be like those pathetic simps in your comments, but he’s not that, he’s Satoru Gojo. Women come to him, women come easy too, you of course were never one to come near him in that way, no you’d look at him getting smacked in the face on campus with a grin, vowing to your friends that you’d never be one of his conquests.

That night, though, it was like he lost himself, the most stupid, corny shit Satoru could think of, that last night of his freedom before being forced to take over his family’s business. You and everyone probably thought he wanted to, but of course he fucking didn’t, he didn’t want a part of the Gojo corporation in any way, shape or form.

Satoru felt lost, honestly.

Self sure, confident, conceited clearly, talking far too much shit and laughing, picking on you every chance he got, showing up to all your sorority parties in various stages of undress to lure your friends to him. He’ll never forget him, Sukuna and Suguru crashing your ABC party, wearing nothing but cut open beer boxes, and you so happened to have some white claw box made bikini.

God you’d been sexy, but when he stole all the attention? Oh he’s never seen you more mad.

Well no, he has.

Gojo loved to make you mad, because you’re so damn cute when your nose scrunches up, when your pretty eyes narrow, there was nothing like your huffs as you would cross your arms and shift your hips just so. And if there was anything Gojo was absolutely perfect at, amongst well damn near everything, it was making you absolutely furious.

Finally Satoru sees you, dressed in this pretty blue summer dress that juts out just a bit at the waist, making his heart race for just a moment at how pretty you are. It’s not like he forgot… but god. Are your tits bigger he wonders, or is he just obsessed with them, as always, looking too hard. Your cheeks are this beautiful color, your eyes so bright, like… some damn glow about you.

How corny is he lately.

He puts on a smirk as he leans back, waving with his fingers to gesture you over, and you look at him so damn seriously, sitting across from him, hands entwined together in front of you on the table for a moment, as you eye him carefully. “Gojo, um… how are you?’

Who the fuck is this girl in your body!?

You don’t nervously ask shit, you tell Gojo to fuck off, you glare or scowl while he smirks, what’s this… shy ass shit? He frowns a bit now, you exhale and slide off your purse, letting it sit on the seat next to you, he can’t stop staring at your lips, clearly bitten to fucking hell.

He tries to feign that he’s fine, that he hasn’t missed you, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He missed your daily arguments on campus, he missed you being a total brat. He misses your scent, god that vanilla sugar body spray was haunting his very dream.

He acts as if he hadn’t died to hit you up, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t go that far, not with you, not with what you did to him, how you’ve damn near destroyed any game for himself any longer. That one night with you had sunk into him so deeply, he wishes it was just good pussy, and not whatever this was.

He’s jerked it off to you every fucking night since, to the point is damn dick doesn’t even work, he sure also wouldn’t admit that he can’t even fuck a girl because you were so good. Some evil witch that did something, it must be, he has at this point just given up trying, until whatever curse you gave him falls the fuck off.

But god you look good in front of him.

He should tell you, but instead he swipes a hand through his silky white locks and smirks right at you. “Missed me so badly, sweets?”

You roll your pretty eyes as the menu comes, smiling and thanking the hostess, a smile reserved for anyone in the world but him, even when he’d had you cumming all over him, you weren’t smiling. No, but you were drooling then.

‘Ah, look at you, so fuckin pathetic f’me, huh? Thought you hated me, sorority brat’ Satoru had huffed, as he’d fingered your cunt, curling inside of your slick walls, watching your pretty fucked out face. ‘Just from fingers?’

‘I do h-hate you- mnh!’ Your sparkly manicured nails dug into his broad shoulders as your tight walls convulsed around him, as he hit that spot that no man had ever found in a moment.

Perfect at everything, stupid Satoru.

‘Feel her, god she’s so desperate, huh?’

“Fuck you I- there, shit!’ you’d rolled your hips, grinding right on his hand, pussy drooling as you came from his fingers before he’d even put his cock inside you, and Satoru’s cock was leaking against his boxers, twitching as he pictures how perfect you’d felt around him. ‘Fuck you for being so g-good at that!’

‘Oh, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.’ He’d turned you then, whispering a ‘bend over, just like that, gonna be a big stretch, hmm?’

Satoru struggles to calm his memory, focusing on that sexy mouth of yours moving, realizing words are coming out of them, blinking to focus.

“How are you doing, Gojo?” You ask softly, always Gojo, you never called him Satoru, and he always called you sweets, short stuff, your last name, also never your first.

But he wanted to call you a lot of things, one of them being-

Stop that Satoru.

“I’m doing great, of course, miss me so much?” He teases, winking at you and sipping on the sickeningly sweet Shirley temple he’d had them buy, you just grab a water, hand flitting to your tummy for a moment. “You’re not sick are you?”

“No, not sick just… yeah we needed to talk. Is that okay?”

Satoru leans forward, raising a thin white brow. “You seem weird, everything okay?”

“Well… shit. I guess I’ll just say this. Um…” You tuck your hair behind your ear, looking out the window at the bustling city for a moment, before looking back at him. “Remember that night?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do all this to have a repeat.” His hand comes to your thigh, and that’s when you curse this pregnancy, because your nipples tighten, your cunt gets hot and wet from that.

Fuck hormones.

You take a breath, glaring as you always do at Satoru, the only time you never had was when he’s had your face with a slutty O for your mouth, your eyes rolled back, nails gripping those sheets. You shove his hand off, hoping he couldn’t feel your heat that quickly, as your body responds stupidly in a damn sushi restaurant.

“It’s not that, it’s important. Can you ever be serious in your life!?” You say quietly, and it’s his turn to glare, taking his hand back, sipping his drink again.

“Well just spit it out. What is all this, then?”

“It’s… I… You…” Shit, if ever you needed a drink it was now, and you damn sure wouldn’t have one for a good six months or more.

“It’s… I…. You…” He mocks, and you stand then, so furious your heart is racing, snatching up your purse.

“Never mind, I should have known you’re-”

“Shit, just sit. Sorry. Okay?” He grips your delicate wrist in his big hand, and even that is wrecking you, against your better judgement and everything you feel. “I’m sorry, it seems… serious. Just sit down and spit it out.”

You sit back down now, shifting as you both make your orders, a thankful distraction. As the waitress leaves, you sigh. “I don’t want anything from you, first off, so don’t think that.”

“What?” He blinks in confusion.

“I don’t need help, I can do it myself.”

“Do what!?”

“But you have to know… it’s the right thing to do, to tell you.” You look up at the ceiling, gathering your thoughts.

“Is this… are you in love with me, because of how good it was? Shit, that’s okay baby, everyone-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What!?” You just sit there, seriously staring, as he blinks, looking at fuller breasts, your damn glow, thinking of every dumb thing he’s heard. “You’re… by who?” He whispers, and you flush then, shifting in your seat, sipping more of your water, condensation cool on your hot palm, your skin is burning, heart is racing.

“I was on the pill, religiously, I swear, I never missed one. Shit, until I found out I never missed… I… never would have done it like we did if I knew.” You feel sick as he gapes at you, his pretty blue eyes bulging out damn near, his mouth dropped open. “I expect no help, no involvement, we’re young. I just-”

“This a joke, right?” You take another breath, hand gripping the glass, eyeing those around you all, engulfed in conversations.

“It’s not a joke.” He’s laughing now, smacking his thigh, and your jaw tenses as he does.

“It’s you and your damn friends, someone recording!? Hah-”

“It’s not a joke.” You clear your throat now, leaning in your purse and pulling out the papers, with your name, the results, watching his expression shift, brows drawing low, his jaw tense. “It’s only been you, no one else for an entire year.”

“A whole year?” He eyes you again, and you flush under his gaze, as his hands shake, hands you’ve never seen shake, hands that dribble basketballs, that tossed footballs, all with ease.

Hands that…

Fuck, don’t think of it.

“I’m not… I was too busy.” Besting Gojo, competing with Gojo, you had no time for shit with him, your anger at him shone so brightly it was hard to think about men. “As I said, you don’t need to pay for anything, this isn’t that conversation, this is just me letting you know. I’m keeping it.”

Satoru continues to blink at you, staring open mouthed, at your face, then your body, then back to your face, over and over, while the waitress brings out the food, smiling curiously at the two of you. Satoru doesn’t make a move to touch his food, running his hand through his now messy white locks again, as his mind spins.

“I know you’re wealthy, I don’t want you thinking I want some piece of it. I’ll take care of them alone, please don’t worry.” You touch your tummy, the motion making Satoru fucking feral in some way he can’t put together, just continuing to stare at you in utter shock as the sushi sits in front of the two of you. “I can leave, now, we don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” He murmurs finally, voice hoarse.

“Act like we are civil, act like we’re anything but college enemies, fucking rivals, not even friends. God I know you hate me, I know this was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” He whispers.

“Yes, for both of us. You don’t deserve your life uprooted, sure I can’t stand you, but this is my fuck up. I said those words…”

‘Cum in me, f-fucking cum in me, mnh…’ you’d arched your back, as his long fingers wrapped your throat, god he’d never felt anything like you.

‘Want me to fill your pussy s’good, huh lil brat?’ you just whine, muscles clenching on his cock, and he’d groaned in your ear then, shoving deep inside your drooly cunt. ‘Beg for it, then’

Oh, you had.

You hated him for it.

“It’s my fault, so don’t worry. But I wanted to be transparent, but I am… indeed, pregnant.”

“Pregnant, like, with a baby?” Satoru whispers, and You giggle then, for the first time since you found out, covering your mouth just a bit as he just stares.

“Yeah, a baby.”

“Mine…” His words send something through the both of you.

“Yours, but only if you want to be involved. I know it was a hate fuck, we’re young, we have lives-”

“You got a… like that scan shit set up?”

“Ultrasound?” He nods, nervously, hands clenching the table so hard you see the veins popping up through his thin skin. “I do, next week. I mean it is a couple months already, so I will see something, not like… the sex but…”

“Can I go?”

You blink in shock now. “You want to?”

“Yeah. I mean… why wouldn’t I?” He rubs the back of his neck, as the life he thought, the mundane one of following his damn family, of being a pawn in a bigger scheme, everything flashes.

It changes.

He’s scared shitless, but…

“I want to be involved. If you want me to be.” You blink back tears, but you fail, and if it’s one thing, Satoru Gojo has never seen his preppy ass Sorority rival cry, not fucking once.

He falters as those tears run down your cheeks, he leans over, hesitantly, the only physical contact aside from that fateful night was him shoving at you teasingly, or you smacking at him. Shit you all hadn’t hugged, you never even kissed aside from that night, sloppy and messy. But he doesn’t stop, until his thumb brushes your cheek, and you gasp.

“Shit I’m crying. Stupid hormones.” You huff now, swiping at your own eyes with shaky little hands. “You really wanna go?”

“Yeah if it’s cool?”

Satoru’s shocking you, the world tilts on its axis, like you’re having some insane dream. This can’t be real, can it? It’s fuckboi, frat boy Gojo, the man who goes through girls like they’re candy, the man who takes nothing serious, who has the world handed to him.

“Gojo, if you want to go of course you can, to any and all appointments, but you’re under no obligation, and please know I can cover the costs.”

“I know you’d never take my money, shit even if I offered, stubborn ass little brat that you are.” You manage a breathless giggle, the second one, realizing he is still brushing that thumb against your cheek, before he clears his throat. “So, tell me what day, I'll be there.”

“Yeah, are you sure? It will make it so… real, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now eat your cooked sushi, aren’t you like eating for two or some shit?”

You take your chopsticks with a shaky hand, exhaling. “I was reading, I think they are like the size of a pea maybe. But, this is yummy looking.”

“Gonna be a huge ass baby, shit.”

“Oh god!” You eye his lanky body, and he’s grinning, Satoru is grinning!? Shocking you further.

Maybe you don’t know him like you think?

“Tits are gonna get so big.”

Never mind.

*****

“An ultrasound!? A baby? Fuck…” Suguru Geto inhales the blunt, sucking the smoke into his lungs as Satoru nervously paces Sukuna and Suguru’s apartment, Satoru chose to live in his own place, closer to work. But he frequently gets shitfaced and crashes out at their place.

“Sounds fucking insane, shit.” Sukuna chuckles, as he’s hitting a bong, inhaling and exhaling, broad shoulders shaking as he coughs. “You look like you could use a hit or something.

“Before the ultrasound? Shit I need more than weed. I’m freaking the fuck out right now.”

“Imagine you as a dad though hah!” Sukuna smacks his thigh, as Satoru glares now, stopping his pacing while the music plays, the same music Satoru remembers doing keg stands and playing beer pong in togas to, only to now have the possibility of being responsible for a whole human being.

“Can’t even keep a plant alive, shit.” Suguru says in between laughs, and Satoru raises a white brow at the two of them on the couch.

“You two are so supportive.”

“Well shit, she said you don’t have to be involved, you can always just like… send money and shit? Do you really want a whole kid?” Sukuna asks, and Satoru takes a breath, pacing once more as he runs hands through disheveled hair over and over.

“Do I want a whole kid, no, I never even… I mean I figured eventually, as the Gojo heir, blah blah blah.” Satoru slumps in a nearby recliner, as Suguru hands him the blunt, frowning a bit now.

“You do need a hit. You’re young, it’s not time to give your family fuckin’ heirs yet, is it?”

“They’d probably be delighted.” Satoru rolls those cerulean eyes, inhaling the smoke into his lungs and leaning back, staring up at the ceiling, as the black fans above them swirl, moving the puffy clouds of smoke all around. His nostrils fill with the scent of the Sativa, wishing he could make sense of his thoughts. “Not delighted that it’s out of wedlock and unplanned.”

“Imagine her marrying you.” Sukuna and Suguru laugh loudly again, as Satoru hits the blunt again, not passing it.

“The fucks that mean?”

“She hates you. God I think more than anyone.” Suguru says, and Satoru smirks just a bit.

“She sure didn’t hate this dick.”

“Oh!” He’s slapping hands with his friends as Sukuna and Suguru start to make the most obscene gestures, while you call, and he shushes them quickly, trying to compose himself.

“Hello?”

“Gojo, hey. Um, ultrasound is in an hour, I’m heading out soon if you want to meet up?”

“Why don’t I have my driver pick you up?” He asks, and Suguru and Sukuna continue the gestures, making Satoru snort in laughter, the weed starting to enter his bloodstream.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just thought it would be more convenient in this traffic.” He shoots a wink at his friends.

“I mean… sure?” Satoru mouths yes, pumping his fist, clearing his throat now.

“It’ll be easier this way, alright send me your addy I’ll head out.”

“All right.” You just hang up, such a rude little thing. Satoru has changed your name to Sorority Brat in his phone for a good reason.

“What are you gonna do though, man?” Suguru murmurs thoughtfully, his dark violet eyes narrowed, clearly blitzed. “Gonna like… be with her?”

“Could cum in her whenever now.” Sukuna bursts out in laughter as Satoru glares at the two of them.

“Grow up…” They blink at him, then Satoru grins wide. “Nah, that would be a perk, because her pussy my god.”

They both scooch up, elbows on their thighs, avidly staring at Satoru now. “Details, man, it’s like the one girl you never told us about?” Sukuna asks.

“Because you’re in love.”

“Pshh, in love!?”

“Haven’t seen you with anyone since.” Suguru earns Satoru’s middle finger, as he puts out the blunt, stretching and earning their pouts.

“Bet she’s so good, though, all angry and shit, bet she’s a freak.” Satoru doesn’t even know if you’re a freak necessarily, but as Suguru agrees, he glares at them both, crossing his arms.

“This has been the worst pep talk in fucking history.”

“Shit, what’s your decision?” Suguru asks, and Satoru’s mind races, peeking at his watch now.

“I think I’ll make it when I like… see it?”

“Alright big Daddy, then if you decide to be involved we’ll be like… their uncles and shit.” Suguru says, and Satoru grimaces.

“God no, you’ll ruin my kid.”

“Fuck off now.” Sukuna starts hitting his blunt again, Satoru walks out away from them and spritzes cologne all along himself, he knows your prissy self never smoked weed, no you were a little goodie goodie. He thinks the only time he saw you drink was a little at parties, but never like that last night.

He remembers just looking at you asleep when he’d woken up, and the tenderness he felt when he had brushed your hair off your pretty face, and you’d stirred a bit. For a moment he felt his heart hammer in his chest, stone cold sober, seeing the bite marks he’d left on your delicate skin, feeling affection like he couldn’t describe, Satoru never felt that way.

He didn’t cuddle, he didn’t linger.

He ran out before they could wake up, he ran out like you did to him, perhaps he was a little nicer about it, though, you’d given no fucks when you darted out the damn door in a hurry. He had acted cocky though, full on hard just by the damn thought of your slick sticking to his cock, but instead of perhaps kissing you, he’d patted his lap and been a little shit.

He hated the recognition on your face, like he’d been a mistake, so he decided to shove you out of his brain, though he clearly failed.

Jogging down the stairs, he has his driver sent in your direction, and you get the text he’s there, stepping out in front of your little house, cute Satoru thinks, it’s small but it’s immaculate from the exterior. You have pink flowers and succulents all over the front of it when he steps out, eyeing your pretty dress, nerves starting to eat at him, but he puts on an easy smile.

“Ready to go see this little parasyte?’

“A what!?”

“Technically, it sort of is. Right, you’re like its host.” Your mouth is wide open, as you touch your tummy, and he curses. “Shit…”

“A parasyte, you’re calling our… I mean I guess my… the baby a-”

“I’m sure it’s a cute parasyte? It has a pretty host.” Satoru tries to put on the charm, the smolder, as you stare at him in shock.

Was it shocking, this was Gojo.

“Dear God.”

How’d you end up pregnant with this idiot’s baby?!

You slide into the car as you shake your head, and he covers his face, grimacing as he realizes he just told his… god what even were you, a baby mama!? That his baby was a… parasyte. Well, it is, and Satoru would typically just argue with you and let you know he’s correct and you’re wrong, but he keeps quiet, feeling you seething.

“Fire signs.” He mumbles, you look at him again.

“What?”

“You’re a fire sign, it’s why you’re so feisty. I am too, you know.” You relax just a bit, curiously.

“You believe in astrology?” You ask in shock, for as long as you’ve known Satoru Gojo, the two of you don’t really know each other.

“Baby I’m the most Saggitarius man there is.” You giggle again, fuck that’s three giggles Satgoru has counted, and how it lights up your already glowing makes him ache for you, suddenly realizing one of his long legs is brushing against you. Your warmth alone makes him throb, the vanilla sugar filling the space in the car.

“You certainly are the epitome of a Saggitarius. Don’t call me feisty, yuck.” You shove at him playfully almost, pausing a bit when you realize his body feels far too good against yours.

You may or may not have masturbated last night, and he may or may not have popped in your head, over and over. But, don’t worry, because Satoru has spent months jerking his thick length to the thought of you, not that either of you would admit that it may or may not have happened.

“This baby would be a fire sign.” You murmur then, letting your hand fall, and nervously fidgeting, Gojo’s long limbs take over so much of the car, as big as it is, Gojo’s always taken over everything, even apparently your senses.

“Would it?” He asks quietly, for once just a little serious it seems.

“Yeah, an Aries if it comes when it should.”

“So it’ll be a brat like you.”

“Psh, like you.” You roll your eyes, and the two of you fall into a bit of a silence, so much unspoken between you. “Do you know if…”

“That’s why I want to see. Make it real?”

You actually nod in understanding, surprising him then. “I get it.”

The ultrasound tech is rolling the wand over cold gel soon, as you’re embarrassingly propped up with your feet in stirrups, and Satoru stands to the side, glaring at the man who’s inserting this wand in you. He gets angry that he’s getting such a view, he doesn’t even think he saw you that much.

What he remembers…

Your pussy is very pretty.

You wince a bit as the doctor smiles up at you. “Tight muscles, huh?”

Satoru snorts in laughter, and you glare. “What!?”

“You are so tight.”

“Gojo!” You glare, and even the doctor laughs, also earning your scowl, which makes them both sober up.

“Sorry, Miss. Alright… relax, would you?” How do you relax as a doctor is shoving a wand in your coochie and your enemy, who got you pregnant somehow, is turning red holding in his lewd thoughts!? “Look at the screen.”

You and Satoru both look over now, your breath catches then, as does his, when the doctor begins to tap keys on the keyboard, and you hear it for the first time, this little… heartbeat. It’s a heartbeat.

“There it is, congratulations you two. About… ten weeks?” You’re enamored as you stare at the screen, and he moves the wand inside you. “Look there, that’s the little baby.”

Baby.

A baby.

It’s all real.

Satoru’s completely silent as tears fill your eyes, a myriad of emotions, some that you’re so connected already to a little peanut inside you, some that you don’t know how you’ll do this, some of your life. How will it alter, how will it go, what will people think… and what does the man next to you think? What will he do!?

But overwhelmingly as you feel yourself begin to cry, and the screen turns off, you feel warmth spread, touching your tummy in wonder, there’s a damn baby in your body. Your baby. Something you never considered or thought of, you figured much, much later in life, not now.

And you’d likely be…

Alone in this.

“I’ll go get a picture printed for you two.” The doctor smiles kindly, as you’re left alone, with a for once silent Satoru Gojo.

You hesitate to look at him, a stunned expression on his face as you sit up, closing your legs and biting your lower lip, he finally looks at you and exhales, seeing your tear streaked cheeks. A girl he never knew to cry or giggle has done both, and a man you never thought to be serious or quiet… was.

“Satoru um…”

“Satoru?” He asks quietly, and you flush.

“Sorry…”

“No, I don’t mind, just… crazy. This is crazy. There’s a whole life inside you!? And we made it?” You sigh, nodding then, and he shocks you as he leans down, as you’re sitting in the bed, coming so close to you, eyes swirling storms of emotions.

“You can back out now, it’s okay. I won’t put this on you, keeping it is an insane idea but… it feels right to me?” He tilts your chin up, leaning closer, to where you can taste the sweetness of his breath, as your heart pounds right in your chest. “But if you’re backing out, do it now, it will hurt… fuck it will hurt more if you get too involved, okay? Do it now.”

“I’m not backing out of shit.” You gasp, and he exhales, wiping your tears away. “We both did this. I’ll not live in some world knowing my baby is raised with no help of mine in any way, fuck that.”

“But you-”

“I get it, we… aren’t… together. But in this I will be.”

“Satoru, I think I may have a cardiac arrest  before I get this baby out.” You sniffle and he smirks a bit.

“So unbelievable that I’d want to?”

“Yes. The Gojo I know…”

“You may not know me as well as you think. And maybe I don’t know you that much… aside from I agree about that tight-”

“I swear!” You shove at him, as he snorts in laughter, still a little shit, as they bring in two pictures, and Satoru takes one thoughtfully.

“That’s it, huh?” He tilts his head curiously. “Looks like me.”

“It looks like nothing yet, what?” You’re taking tissue and cleaning up a bit, as they give you privacy to pull back on your panties, but Satoru gives you no privacy, just looking. “You could turn?”

“Why, that’s one benefit you know.”

“What?”

“Could fuck any time, cum inside whenever.”

“Oh you wish.” You shove at his chest, and he’s grinning and wiggling his brows, grabbing your waist, pulling you against him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“Shut it.” Yes.

“Sex is good for pregnancy.”

“You’re so full of shit! I can’t with you. Rizzing me up at a gyno?”

“Perfect place, see that doctor, he wants a piece.”

“You’re so dumb, I swear.” You look at the picture then, thumb brushing against the baby’s… maybe it’s a face?

“Are we gonna live together?”

“I mean… what?” You eye him in shock.

“When the baby’s here.”

“No, we don’t have to do all that, we live close. Can you imagine us living together, we’d kill each other.” He envisions it, the fights surely but… the sex, and seeing you in the morning?

“Or fuck. Alot.”

“That’s how this happened.” You mumble, and soon you’re back home, and trying to ignore your body’s insane responses while he stands on your porch, looking far too fucking sexy. “Thank you for being there.”

“You thanking me? the world is ending.”

“Hush. I appreciate this, you standing by me. You don’t have to.”

“I… want to. Um, what will we say?”

You bite your lip more, until he gently takes it out from under your top row of teeth, brushing against the indentations. “We could say we’re together, if you don’t mind, dating I guess? My parents would trip if they knew it’s like…”

“Same. My parents would be happy for a Gojo heir though.” You hear it, the surprising resentment in his voice.

There’s a lot you don’t know.

“Well, I can act like I like you for them if you want.” You tease, and he leans against your doorway, so fucking tall, just looming over you, and you have to clench your hands not to give in to the temptation of touching him.

“Act like you like me- you?”

“I could! If you could act like you like me, in front of my family.”

“How will we explain the whole not living together thing?”

“It’s new, it’s 2025 Gojo, not 1810. We’ll be okay. You're so old school huh, gonna marry me?”

“You’d leave me at the altar.” You both laugh again, as he straightens up now. “Alright, so when should we tell them?”

“When you want to. So work on those acting skills. I’ll set up brunch with mine, you set up dinner with yours?”

“Sounds good. Alright don’t miss Daddy too much.” You snort and roll your eyes, turning away now.

“Daddy? Whatever.”

Satoru presses you against the door, wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing a hand gently on your tummy, splaying the expanse of it with long fingers, as your breath comes quicker and quicker. “Could swear you called me daddy when I beat up that pretty pussy hmm?”

You falter, whining softly, hating your body’s reaction, scowling right up at him, your hand on your doorknob, while this tall ass of a man makes your body light up. “Never called you daddy, no way.” Your voice is a pathetic whisper, why does he do this to you, you want to arch into his damn touch, press against his length, to the point you make yourself stiffen.

“Oh? Must have been the liquor.” He caresses your face, leaning so close you wildly think he’ll kiss you, and you know damn well you can’t handle that, not with your pussy soaking your damn panties just from this.

You hate Satoru Gojo, and he hates you.

This is… because you both are having a baby.

Right?

“It must have been.”

“Ah, I see. Good night, then sweetheart.” He leans his lips up, kissing the top of your head, a gesture so oddly sweet it doesn’t even fit him. “Text me the details, Sorority brat.”

“Sure will, Frat boy.” He sticks his tongue out as you do, walking in and leaning against the door, overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne, the feel of his hands, the memories that surfaced. You slide down it slowly, burying your face in your hands, as your body trembles with this insane need.

Shit. A baby with your enemy?

A baby with Frat Boy Gojo?

Faking that you like him, would it really be that fake?

Satoru’s leaning against it too, for just a moment, trying to compose himself… finally he’s in the back of the car again, as his driver looks  in the rearview mirror curiously, tired eyes focusing as Satoru looks at the picture again. The little peanut that’s apparently a…

A baby.

With his enemy.

An enemy he really wants to be inside again.

“Everything alright, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, Satoru runs a hand through his hair now, leaning back in his seat as he peers out the dark tinted windows.

“I’m having… a baby with a girl who hates me.”

“Why does she hate you?” Kiyotaka asks, driving off, as Satoru chuckles just a bit, remembering bits and pieces of college, out of order, out of sync.

“Because honestly, I was kind of a complete dick to her?”

“That’s… oddly self observant.”

“You saying I’m a dick to you?”

“No Mr. Gojo!”

“I’m kidding, relax.” Kiyotaka’s tense shoulders relax when Satoru leans forward, hand on his shoulder through the little divider that’s opened. “Do you know shit about kids at all?”

“I have nephews, they’re pretty good kids. But babies, not really.”

“I could ask my parents but they basically had nannies raise me.”

“Many nannies, I heard.”

“Well, I was a menace to be honest. Where do I learn about these… things?”

“Babies?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I think there are books?”

“Hmm.” Satoru pulls out his phone then.

Fratboy Gojo🙄(yes that’s his name in your phone now, no you’re not sorry): Should I order us baby books?

Sorority Brat💦😻(of course that’s your name in his phone): Yes, if you want to? That would be good. Thank you… for today.

Fratboy Gojo🙄: Two thank yous!? That baby is making you a mush.

Sorority Brat💦😻: Whatever!

Satoru snorts then, but when you’re in your bed later that night, nibbling on a bag of hot cheetos that have been screaming at you all day, how is that your first craving!? He writes to you again, and you pick your phone up with your clean hand, sans hot cheeto dust, rolling your eyes.

Fratboy Gojo🙄: Need some nudes for your spank bank?

You’re gonna kill him.

Sorority Brat 💦😻: Good night, Gojo.

Satoru frowns, because his dick is already in his hand, but for a moment you think about it, and would it be so bad to-

No, no no.

You aggressively eat those hot cheetos, wondering just what you were in for with that damn boy in your life now, shit forever.

“Fuck.” You’ll never drink again.

I say four parts but I feel like this is gonna be long aha, bc god Gojo is a lil shithead hehe (as I like him) this just a teensy bit similar to the Knocked Up movie premise so expect a LOT of humor here! <3

Taglist one- @jannythewriter-pt2 @gojosoups @lycoris-radiata-4-sale @cutiepi-iee @poisonousspiderlily @closerbutnevertogether @myahfig4 @shokosbunny @coq1myun @rinny27 @abibliolife @coq1myun @megumisthirdog @p4lli @turtlebangtan @webshooterrr9 @aldebrana @msqudo18 @s0ulsnatchaaa @ovela @midnaamethyste @nearlyfuckingwitches @shibataimu @msniks @missthatgirl @fantasy1nightmare0 @maddyhehehehhe @yourst3pm0mmy @haithamsbb @rentheannihilator @ilovebeansyay @lemonswirlz @dilfkentolover @evelynxxo @bkgnotsuma @suki91 @burntasian @nakiich @hyunjinsruinedpainting @miniv1x3n @minascasket @ihrtmack @contaminatedcupcake @girlwithn0j0b @tokyi999 @vamqyx @queenofthekill @verriees @vullzo @jkslaugh97

[reignpage]

Lying To Himself

Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence Warnings: lots and lots of cursing, a little angsty for Toji, but mostly tooth-rotting fluff and crack, he's a certified loverboy your honour!

You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye. 

“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”

And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.

The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines. 

“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face. 

A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.

He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to be balls naked in their own kitchen.

"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.

Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."

His friend gives him a look, half amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.

It’s been great. Really fucking great. 

You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and making sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you. 

It’s fine. 

At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.

More days pass just like that. 

And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring and obnoxiously loud. It’s like he's suddenly realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the mornings that’s always greener than the last. 

His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack when it’s not from you. 

“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”

The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say as if you’re yapping right in his ear. 

“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake as fuck. What was the fucking budget for this shit?”

Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways? 

When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye nowadays. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up. 

“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”

Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that. 

Instead, he eats on the sofa or in his car.

Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question. 

“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”

He gets two nights of decent sleep after that.

But then…

The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood. 

But what they don’t know is that you texted, just a day before you’re set to come back, to let him know you’re staying another week. 

Fucking texted. 

Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice. 

He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out. 

Everyone knows he’s losing his mind. They can tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he’s started snapping at women who are either flirting or just doing their jobs. And sometimes they even have to block his view of couples practising PDA. That’s the closest to hell they ever want to get around Toji. Suddenly, everyone’s hoping you throw the guy a bone and send a nude or something. Literally anything to rein him back in.

The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home. 

“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”

Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh. 

The door handle rattles. 

He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing. 

You’re here. 

“Hey, Toji—“

Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble. 

“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”

His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute. 

“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”

“No.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”

Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat. 

“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”

“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion. 

He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”

Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason for keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”

Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.

It’s almost like…

No. 

It can’t be. 

Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure. 

Toji missed you. 

An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better. 

Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.

Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you. 

“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts. 

Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home. 

Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.

He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready for the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.

“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.” 

And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says, 

“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”

Yeah, this man totally missed you. 

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[rumisgf]

❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION (PART 2!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: y’all wanted a part two i shall give a part two

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: katsuki bakugou, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, iida tenya, kirishima eijirou

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: black!reader obv, cursing, mentions of drug usage/marijuana, suggestive if u squint, fem reader implied, mentioning of babies/children

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

✮ wipes your tears sort of aggressively but only because he’s so urgent to comfort you and take care of you

✮ always hugs you by your lower waist

✮ when you go to the gym together, he’s the type to always say “c’mon, you can do one more.” or “do three more”

✮ ruffles your hair/flicks your forehead in a teasing way

✮ “act right.”/“watch out.”

✮ doesn’t remind you to drink water— he simply justs brings water bottles up to your mouth and tells you to “open up”

✮ if you have any, he cares for your pets like they’re his own

✮ just something about the sight of him holding a baby

✮ bites you just because he can

✮ pulls you into his lap whenever he’s tired of your attitude

✮ gets super close to your face like he’s gonna kiss you but pulls away just to mess with you

✮ “that’s my girl” in the most proud voice ever every single time

TODOROKI SHOTO

✮ any time he does get high he’s all over you and staring at you with half lidded eyes

✮ it’s just something about the way he curses man.

✮ loves falling asleep on the phone with you and takes facetime photos of you sleeping because he thinks you look like an angel

✮ runs his thumb over your hand whenever you hold hands

✮ loves giving earlobe kisses

✮ will casually be like “when we have kids,”

✮ sends voice memos ranging from something funny that happened in class to how much he misses you and needs to see you

✮ kisses your lip gloss off every chance he gets right after complimenting how nice your lip combo looks

✮ sends you pictures of yourself and says “you look so pretty in this”

✮ him whispering in your ear.

✮ has your contact as the only one pinned in his messages

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

✮ pats away your tears with his finger instead of wiping them (those who watch love island usa and are kordell + serena fans know what i’m talking about)

✮ places his hand on the small of your waist to guide your somewhere or move you out the way

✮ constant forehead kisses

✮ lifts you up and spins you around when he’s excited to hug you

✮ guides you into the right form when you workout together

✮ runs his hands down your waist and hips when he’s checking you out while you’re right in front of him

✮ him around kids. that’s all.

✮ gives you flowers pretty much every week— and one time he gave you a money bouquet for your birthday

✮ flexes for you when he feels you staring at him and pretends he’s not doing it on purpose

✮ throws his arm around you and presses you flush against his chest when you go to sit on the couch next to him

✮ refers to you as his “wife” to his friends

KAMINARI DENKI

✮ you could have been rotting in bed all day and when he facetimes you he always greets you with something along the lines of “hello my beautiful princess” with a lovesick tone of voice

✮ calls you “mama” and “ma”

✮ obsessed with skinship because he aches to be able to “crawl inside your skin” and just needs to be close to you

✮ blows kisses at you from across the room

✮ for comfort, he runs his fingers through your hair and rocks you back and forth while hugging you

✮ his morning voice :)))

✮ lets you bite him and encourages it

✮ gets very touchy when you’re on his lap

✮ the king of “i know you’re probably asleep, but” texts

✮ goes on rants about how gentle and how well he would care for you when you’re one day pregnant with his children

✮ always calling you his “pretty baby”/“pretty girl”

✮ always posts pretty candid pictures of you and makes heartfelt story posts for every birthday, anniversary, and valentine’s day

HITOSHI SHINSOU

✮ has read for you + sung you to sleep on multiple occasions

✮ grabs you by your chin to force eye contact

✮ “say please”

✮ checks you every time you have an attitude with a smirk on his face

✮ has a habit of biting his lip

✮ says “there you go, babe” way too much.

✮ glares at anyone who flirts with you while tightly wrapping an arm around your waist

✮ has made multiple shared playlists for the both of you

✮ says he’s “gatekeeping” you because you’re just too pretty and he has to keep you to himself

✮ plays with your fingers when he’s bored or nervous

✮ buries his face into your neck to bask in your scent when he hugs you

✮ randomly stares at your for a full five minutes when you’re talking, barely listening to a word you’re saying, then lovingly sighs “i love you so much…”

IIDA TENYA

✮ always opens every door for you

✮ holds your hands while walking across the street or through the hallways

✮ very protective over you and will respectfully cuss anybody out who disrespects you

✮ pretty much has replaced your name is his vocabulary with “honey” and “sweetheart”

✮ never calls you hot— he always calls you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, or stunning

✮ grabs you by your sleeve or your belt loop to take you somewhere if you don’t hear him call your name the third time

✮ the thought of ever calling you his “bitch” disgusts him, he calls you his lady or his love instead

✮ will immediately grab the nearest box of tissues to wipe your tears or your nose whenever you’re crying

✮ kisses your cheek to greet you and say goodbye

✮ has deep conversations about your future together when you get to that point in the relationship, and is open about how much his heart swells at imagining you as a mother

✮ kisses your forehead when he notices you asleep on his chest

© rumisgf