#he's incredibly kind and focused and loves people

[timotey]

Fangs of Fortune

I haven't cried this much since... well, I don't think I've ever cried this much watching anything. The only thing that came even close was The Spirealm when the team members kept dying inside the doors. But even there wasn't this much death and tragedy. Ouch.

One thing that truly stood out for me about this drama was how, well, intimate it felt. It had incredible cinematography, music, costumes, CGI, acting, it looked really expensive and yet it was... intimate. There were very few characters compared to other fantasy cdramas. And it constantly focused on one small group of people. Instead of going big with huge battles and big armies, it went small and low-key, so we got to know the characters and the characters got to know each other. They actually talked, sight unseen! It was pretty much one long team-building exercise. With most of the team dead at the end, true.

Also, considering the longevity of the main three - Zhao Yuanzhou, Wen Xiao and Zhuo Yichen - the, ugh, "classification" of the love they had for each other didn't matter. Because when you have a hundred or more years together, you really won't be boinking day in day out after a while, so it's about the companionship first and foremost, that stands above all. And like Zhuo Yichen said, there are different kinds of love and not one is better than the others. So the familial love between Wen Xiao & Zhuo Yichen, the romantic love between Wen Xiao & Zhao Yuanzhou, and the soulmate bond between Zhuo Yichen & Zhao Yuanzhou are all equal in their importance.

And if I understand it correctly, the sliver of soul in the droplet of Zhao Yuanzhou's blood on the "contract" means that he will now have to cultivate for years and years to come - Li Lun was meant to cultivate for a hundred years to get his human form back - before coming back to them. So they will have to keep his soul safe until then.

Also, the fact that his soul went looking for Zhuo Yichen? Chef's. Kiss! Just like the fact that he kept staring at Zhuo Yichen as he was dying, even though he was lying in Wen Xiao's arms. He wanted Zhuo Yichen to be the last thing he saw - and he was the first thing Zhao Yuanzhou went looking for when his soul became sentient enough. That's just... wow. It kinda reminds me of the parabatai bond in Shadowhunters which surpassed everything, even romantic love and death.

10/10 for me. I don't usually give a 10 - IIRC, I only gave a 10 to two cdramas, Ancient Love Poetry (also one that I bawled through) and The Spirealm - but this one hit just right!

[fallen--starlight]

hi tumblr user if-you-soul i need to preface this by saying i was actually discussing the god awful mischaracterization this fandom inflicts on HMS with my besties & opened tumblr to look for your reblog of that soul fanart saying "YOU fell for the character's facade that was meant to be dismantled by the viewer!" & got hit w this & it MADE MY DAY. i fucking love this album to death & im a soul fictionkin so these things drive me up a fucking wall

cccc is pretty straightforward while also being purposefully vague & left up to interpretation in many areas but soooo many people take interpretation to twisting the narrative until its no longer what it was & it makes me ask myself did we listen to same tracks here?? where are yall getting these things from???? this got rly fucking long so im adding a cut here voilá

when people talk abt the mischaracterization in the fandom its usually focused on heart & mind so im INSANELY glad to see someone talk abt the soul shit. cause what kinda crack are people on?? he never threatens to harm h&m except for at the end of TSE where he is... having a mental breakdown? have people forgotten what it's like to have a breakdown??? you say shit you dont mean bc you're splitting at the seams & falling apart. there is no point in the entire album where soul is portrayed as manipulative/entitled/evil/violent/abusive/erratic, which are descriptions a surprisingly large amt of ppl seem to subscribe to? HE'S A VICTIM !!!! & im so glad you said it! i too have been in a kind of middleman position to parties fighting with each other & its insanely detrimental to one's mental health & had me at an incredibly low point so yeah TSE feels deeply personal to me & soul's character in general (waves in soul kin again LMAO), drives me bonkers how ppl describe him.

mind WISHES he was unfeeling. heart calling him an automaton freak doesnt mean he doesnt feel! it means that he just PUSHES AWAY & REPRESSES EMOTION, or at least tries to. like one has to really emphasize that everything between the heart acoustic & the soul eclectic has mind clearly displaying rage & bitterness & all kinds of emotions. even the end of TME says "maybe my existence might be by design, a simple fact that he'll refuse to see" like bro says its a maybe & then immediately claims its a fact yall are falling for his facade so hardcore its not even funny atp. the way people treat heart is borderline gross, he is NOT an uwu baby innocent boy that doesnt know anything & ppl infantilize him so much idek why. heart represents emotion- ALL emotions. & you're right! emotions are so fucking draining & exhausting at times, especially if you're mentally ill! all this weird portrayal of evil mind & innocent heart is so ?? can i quote TSE with neither is wrong yet neither is right. all 3 of them are neither good nor evil. they're people. they're human. the album really emphasizes this a lot.

the juno incident & RoE in general is made to be a much bigger deal by the fandom that it really is. applies to more than one thing in cccc but RoE takes the cake tbh. & yeah! whole is an entirely fanon thing lololol like im pretty fucking sure even chonny jash has said this someway or another. what we call whole is literally just...chonny. i think ppl took dream's "when harmonia shines, atlas beholds her" & RAN. & honestly i like whole hcs but this brings me to another thing: i really feel like cccc fans come up with so many hcs & interpretations for the album that they forget what the canon is in favor of their fanon. there's so much shock gore & gore in general for lowkey no reason in here </3 its so much & for what. fanon is awesome like everyone should be free to do whatever but i do wish ppl would Remember Canon a bit more & separate their hcs from it more. along with the gore. where are yall getting all this insane amount of gore & violence from. i feel like any violence alluded to in the album is more metaphorical than it is physical bc emotions can be felt violently. internal violence. the album is abt the never ending cycle of mental illness getting better & then getting bad again & so forth as a natural part of life & accepting yourself in those moments.

tl;dr u r so correct & i couldnt agree more & you've voiced the way i've felt abt this fandom for ages we lost the fucking plot & kept running anyways lets pause & find it again thank you so much for sharing ur yapsesh with us

Mischaracterization in the CCCC fandom: a yapsesh (alternative title: Erm... What the Gore is Going On?)

Hi. Woaw. I'm actually making that post I talked about.

So. One thing I've noticed in the CCCC fandom is this weird fixation on gore, torture, violence, etc. Usually a level of graphic content that makes your average horror flick look... pretty tame!

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy horror! I even think a horror story based around psychological conflict similar to CCCC could work well!

But is it just me, or has this fandom COMPLETELY lost track of what the characters are like in the source material?

Like. Let's be real. Nowhere in the album does Soul do gruesome surgeries on Mind, nowhere does Mind go ripping people to shreds like Doomguy, et cetera. The closest thing we have to an implication of violence is what most of us call the "Juno incident"- as even "tines stabbed through eyes" is clearly a metaphor with the next line: "that the sides have condemned."

Im gonna talk ab the characters themselves under the cut

I feel the biggest victim of this mischaracterization is Soul. In the album he's... kind of a victim, really. He toughs out being dismissed and fought over and pushed aside and outright dehumanized for so, so long. Are we seriously just... going to characterize him based solely on his lowest point in TSE? Spring and a Storm and Mucka Blucka are also songs where he's present- along with his presence in Just Apathy that the fandom seems to outright deny to keep their characterization of him as some violent, abusive monster. (Which, again, is quite literally never alluded to! He's honestly kind of a victim, if anything!)

Ohhkay. Next topic. Mind. Oh boy I have thoughts on how people characterize Mind.

He's not emotionless. If you believe this, you've fallen for his stoic facade. All of his songs are just. So full of so much rage. Maybe even a little bit of grief and sadness and fear, masked by said rage. He isn't some emotionless robot- (Heart calls him an automaton as an insult, but that's another rant.) and honestly it feels like such a disservice to such an interesting character with so much unexplored depth to portray him as such.

Heart. Oh boy. Where do I start. Heart what did they do to you.

Heart is the emotional side, yes, but that isn't just some... smol innocent uwu baby who cries all the time. Emotions aren't small and cute and timid. They're INTENSE and PASSIONATE and EXHAUSTING. Strong emotions leave you so, so drained, good OR bad. This is so much more interesting than portraying him as some "uwu hai dere!!" type of character. Which is nowhere in the album.

Whole is hardly even a character. Soul worshipping and praying to whole is fanon.

This fandom's weird obsession with creating shock gore and one-upping each other in a violence competition has spiraled pretty far out of control, and it's honestly crazy. How do you go from an album about internal conflict to violence that would make even the cast of Resident Evil cringe? Brah.

Final notes uhhh. Soul is a victim who got pushed to his limit, not an evil heartless abuser. Mind is angry and unstable and hurt, not some emotionless robot. Heart is the entire emotional spectrum, not some innocent baby. Ok i . I think that's all. Have a good one

[bitter-hibiscus]

I have a Jason Todd hot take again

I think Jason actually dates a lot

modern culture is incredibly focused on romantic love. It's ranked so much higher above friends and family it's kind of terrifying. Everything in media forces you to believe that a romantic partner is the one person who will never leave you and you'll never leave them, the one who will do anything and everything for you, the one that belongs to you like you belong to them. And I think Jason, whose entire story is based on bending himself backward to be loved and literally holding people at gunpoint to try and prove to himself that they love him, would cling to that like a motherfucker.

So I think he dates a lot, and none of it ever lasts, because he's just looking to make himself feel whole again in a way he will never be after Ethiopia :)

[shaanks]

Would you want to pull that Shanks has separation anxiety hc back out from under the bed and maybe perhaps share it with the rest of us? Tbh I LIVE for the head canons you share!!

You are so sweet!!!! 😭😭😭 I'm sorry I've been sitting on this one for several days now, I wanted to be at least sort of clear-headed to answer it properly. Some of this is going under a readmore because I'm incapable of answering things concisely lmfao.

Edit: for anyone watching out there this post is riddled with spoilers so read at your own risk.

**

I think about Shanks and all of his sublimated feelings and fears and dreams so much it makes me so crazy and sad lmfao. Focusing in on the fears part though like...abandonment and loss have been really central themes in his life.

He was found in a locked treasure chest - seemingly abandoned by his biological family (which in the end, good, because if they are who we think they are they suck anyway).

He spends his childhood aboard the LITERAL ship of dreams, two of the most prolific men of that era are his father figures, he has this incredibly close relationship with Buggy, he is soaring on the wings of this burgeoning era, where the only limits he has are what his imagination and talent allow him to be capable of...and then it all just stops.

The family that he knows sails away to the end of their journey without him because he opts to stay behind with Buggy when he gets sick, and nothing is ever the same or right again. Roger sickens, Rayleigh's mind begins to fray. The crew disbands. Everyone disappears.

Roger allows himself to go to the gallows, and on the way there he lays the future of their world on the shoulders of a grieving 14 year old boy, who has to now learn what it means to be utterly alone in a world that has not only branded him enemy, but whose governing structures are fully aware of his power and the danger his talent and proximity to Roger entail.

The only person he had there with him, Buggy, runs out on him - for reasons that were understandable, but could have been avoided by words neither of them had the emotional maturity to express, especially not in the moment of such anguish and grief.

He eventually finds people, good people, new friends and comrades, people he can trust, but even then he is having separation and its cost modeled for him in the form of Yasopp and his son, and eventually in the form of a tenacious, lovable little boy named Luffy, who loves so fiercely and is very clearly terrified of the prospect of being left, of being alone. A fear Shanks resonates with deeply. A pain he knows he will eventually have to inflict on this little boy.

There's a lot of meta around that Shanks had no faith or interest in Luffy until he ate the gum-gum fruit and didn't think he had any potential to be a pirate, but I think that's a really shallow, kind of willfully ignorant take on it. Shanks himself found a home at sea as a boisterous naive child, and the RHP more than have the capability of looking after a child with a penchant for trouble...but that's how he lost his world, too.

Leaving Luffy behind hurt him, but he left him with connection, an emotionally valuable memento, and to Shanks' awareness he was leaving him with a stable support system firmly in place. There are no guarantees in this life, but he's learned through personal experience that not even the Pirate King can grant you assurance that your family at sea will survive.

ALL that to be said that I think one of Shanks' deepest, most untended hurts is loss, the loss of family, of friends, of love, and because that wound has gone unaddressed--and because he went from lost 14 year old boy to Captain to Yonko in such quick succession, and there doesn't tend to be a lot of emotional support for mythic figures of authority--it manifests as separation anxiety.

Individual members of the RHP are rarely seen off on their own, with the exception of Benn going off to rescue Luffy that one time. They all move around together.

When people leave, Shanks keeps tabs on them, when danger arises, he does his best to be two steps ahead of it. I genuinely think there's a part of him that whispers "you'll never see them again" any time someone he cares about walks out of a room, or leaves the ship a little before him. There's a reason, I think, that he's always shown to be the last person to board the ship, why he's always ushering people on ahead of him 50 times before he goes up.

With a lover, I think it would manifest tenfold, I think that's partially why he's so clingy and touchy-feely and cuddly (aside from just being literally the sweetest man alive), because to have that sort of connection means he reached out of the imposed avoidance of his own desires to really bring someone in close, and I think that kind of loss, or the perception of the possibility of that kind of loss, would devastate him in a way he wouldn't recover from.

So he holds your hand everywhere you go, shadows you through rooms, presses you close to his side when you're out at bars, and worries, just a little bit, every time you get up to go to the galley or have to take night watch without him.

Because what if it all falls apart again. What if you disappear. What if the crew disappears. Just like what happened before.

I hope this makes sense and was coherent, I just have a feeling or two about him, ya know?

[milfbro]

Women write better scifi usually. I said it.

[mysticalskunk]

you know that feeling when you really like a character but you cannot find any good content for them because people just ... don't really get them.

[inkoutsidethelines]

Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.

The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.

Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.

Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.

Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.

Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.

Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).

Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.

[bbokicidal]

[REUPLOAD] skz + hands (and how they use them)

warnings: hand kink, sexual content (MDNI), fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting (hyunjin), putting that i mention jeongins church ring in here bc some people are religious n i aint tryna stir the pot

notes: a reupload from my previous blog !!

Chris : Man absolutely fingers you to the Gods. He's the type to know his hands drive you wild and he will absolutely use it to his advantage. That little 'Hall of Fame' move? Yeah - he's doing that shit to you under the dinner table when you join the boys for a night out. He's extremely good at using his hands to coax an orgasm out of you. (And you best bet he rubs over your clit with his thumb. Man is too experienced in fingering at this point. He knows all of your weak points.)

conclusion: uses his index and ring finger during sex + thumb for the clit <3 skilled enough to use one hand and make it amazing

Minho :  He... *sigh.* I'm going to be that person and say that when he fingers you, you can feel the veins in his fingers. Not in a gross way - in a like, textured... ribbed-for-your-pleasure-dildo kind of way. His hands are soft - incredibly so - and because of how the blood pools in his hands any time he lowers them below his ribcage, you just feel it when he's kneeling over you and two fingers deep in your pussy. He'll use his free hand to touch and pinch at your clit though - he's a little too disoriented to use just one hand. But he loves the way his hand looks when he grabs at the plush of your thigh and the veins in his hand become more prominent the tighter he holds onto you, keeping you open for him.

conclusion: uses his middle and ring finger during sex, uses the opposite thumb for the clit <3 too eager to use one hand, gets messy and uses two

Changbin : He - Girl. He.. *sigh pt. 2* He's the type to not...? finger as much? But more, use his hands to spread your pussy open for him so he can shove his tongue as deep as possible into you. He's going to use his hands to hold your thighs apart (as if his broad ass shoulders dont push your thighs open enough) but he's going to do it specifically by putting his hands on the junction between your thighs and hips and splaying his fingers are far apart as he can. (also an ass grabber.)

conclusion: enjoys some good handfuls of ass while he eats you out

Hyunjin : Absolutely fingers you - but always does three instead of two because he's an overachiever. He's going to be fucking you with his fingers so hard that the fucking wet squelches that come from your pussy are NOTHING short of absolutely drop dead sinful. Y'both goin' to Hell for the way he destroys your pussy with his hand. Also, who cares about the clit. You're not even going to be worrying about that because you'll be too busy squirming and crying at the way he fucks you with his fingers.

conclusion: the type to fuck you with his hands so hard that you squirt. that's his end goal.

Jisung : Less of a finger-er, more of an eater. A grabber. Very grabby. He'll hoist your legs over his shoulders (mf is broad and nobody ever talks about it bc they're too focused on his waist) and slip his arms (which are again- big as FUCK) under your thighs so he can rest his hands on your abdomen. He likes feeling over your sides and tummy, maybe even reaching up to pinch your nipples and he's absolutely going to be just groping and kneading at your breasts when you start to squirm against his face.

conclusion: likes to grope and grab, knows you enjoy the feeling of his hands on your body.

Felix : Again, less of someone who fingers and moreso someone who eats. Man is hungry. Man needs that meal. Man - needs that meat. (LMAO SORRY) Anyway absolutely will grab at you while he eats you out. But unlike Ji where he's groping and grabbing and whatever - Felix will slap his hands on your thighs, arms wrapped under your legs, and then he'll lay there and eat - and knead at your skin while he does it. There is never a moment where his fingers aren't digging into the soft plush of your thighs and kneading the skin, pulling lightly on it and feeling how it bulges between his fingers. He's weak for it.

conclusion: thigh man 100%

Seungmin : The type to start by eating you out and letting you relax and think you're being taken care of but then slip his middle finger in and fuck you with it while he abuses you with his tongue. No warning, just a sudden intrusion that's definitely not unwelcome. Uses his free hand to pin your abdomen/hips down to the mattress so you can't move around too much. Also the type to absolutely bury his face in your pussy and try 'n get his tongue as deep into you as he possibly can. A messy eater.

conclusion: eats you out like you're his last meal but likes to keep you on your toes and wiggly. he thinks you're so cute.

Jeongin : We all know he's got pretty hands. (next to seungmo, imo.) So we know he's going to use his long fucking fingers to destroy your pussy. Definitely the type to use his middle and ring finger to fuck you, free hand splayed over your thigh to push it away from his head. You swear on God he's pushing at your cervix every time he goes knuckle deep and it makes you try to close your thighs but he refuses to let it happen and holds you open. Where Seungmin fucks you with his tongue and his fingers - Jeongin fucks you with his fingers and lets his mouth take care of your clit only. But his tongue is a topic for another time. 

conclusion: certified clit sucker. has the longest fingers known to mankind and keeps his rosary ring ON while you fuck.

[murmeloni]

I need more fanboy Clark Kent in my life.

Like, he's seen Bruce Wayne interact with a child once and immediately fell in love with the guy. Now his bedroom walls are plastered with posters and he follows several social media accounts focused on capturing pictures of Bruce with kids and/or animals etc. He defends Bruce to anyone, no matter the antics he gets up to and it has become a bit of a running gag around the office.

Then, one day, Cat is out sick and someone jokingly suggests Clark should cover the gala in her stead, seeing as Bruce Wayne will be there and maybe this'll be Clark's shot to finally get his man? To everyone's surprise, Perry really does assign the gala coverage to Clark, who spends the days leading up to the event in a state somewhere between absolute panic and ultimate bliss.

But when the day finally arrives, Bruce doesn't show.

Of course Clark does his job and interviews everyone there (yes, even Lex Luthor) but a part of him spends all night waiting for Bruce to crash the party late, like he so often does.

Eventually, Clark gives up hope and it's shortly after that, that he stumbles upon one of the children dragged along to the event by their parents. Because apparently someone thought a charity gala was a good environment for an eight year old. The parents are nowhere in sight and the child is close to tears, so Clark makes it his mission to cheer the little girl up, regaling her with stories from his upbringing on a Kansas farm while he searches the crowd for her family.

With Clark thus occupied, he doesn't notice Bruce Wayne finally making his appearance for the night. But Bruce definitely notices him. The gentle giant who's all kind smiles and corny jokes... Until he finds the girl's parents. Uncaring of the fact that he's here on a job and that these people are richer than any one person should be and could easily sue him into oblivion, he takes them aside, fire in his eyes, and tears them a new one for losing track of their kid like this. Anything could have happened to her and maybe the readers of the Daily Planet would like to know about that? After all, how reliable and trustworthy could a company whose CEOs won't even look after their own daughter really be?

Bruce is immediately smitten. The passive-aggressive lecture and subtle threats - not to mention the broad shoulders and handsome face - are incredibly attractive to him and he wastes no time cornering the man afterwards.

Clark, who is so starstruck by the mere sight of Bruce coming towards him that he loses the ability to speak, nearly faints when Bruce just straight up shoves his tongue into his mouth. They end up in one of the coat rooms and Clark thinks that's it, just a one night stand. It sucks that he won't see Bruce again, but the night was amazing and at least he has the memory to treasure, right?

He thinks that right up until he gets to work the next day and two dozen red roses are waiting for him on his desk. There's a handwritten card nestled inbetween the petals and on it is the name of a restaurant along with a date and time. It's signed by Bruce.

And that is how Clark gets together with his celebrity crush.

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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[irndad]

don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people. 

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 

“I don’t think so, Spence.” 

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status. 

[4unnyr0se]

PLS BOKUTO SMUT I WILL SELL YOU MY SOUL VIV 🙏🙏🙏

❥ nepenthe | kotaro bokuto

warnings: timeskip! bokuto, fem! reader, mutual pining, bokuto is emo in the beginning, dry humping/grinding, multiple orgasms, making out, incredibly lewd dialogue, fingering, missionary, two text messages, unprotected sex, tiny corruption kink, possessive! bokuto if u squint, extreme fluff at the end, bokuto is a semi-hard dom in bed, atsumu, hinata and sakusa mentioned, not proofread (unless u count grammarly)

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.3k (lol)

opal i would write anything for u i love u sm

got a request? asks are open!

Being on the MSBY Black Jackals was all the Bokuto could ever dream of. Playing on a team made up of his peers, the adoring cheers from the crowd filled his ears and boosted his ego. He especially loved how cute the girls in the stands were and how they wore merchandized versions of his jersey. People paid good money to watch him play, him. Was there nothing better than the universe could offer him? Indeed, Kotaro Bokuto’s life was perfectly perfect. 

Except until recently. He had missed a significant spike in the latest game against the Alders, which nearly cost him the match. He was not okay. But that was just a first-time thing, right? Indeed, he would not miss a spike in tomorrow’s practice. He’s Bokuto; he doesn’t miss spikes. And then he missed nearly all of his spikes. He was not doing well when he returned to his penthouse apartment that evening. Was he in a slump?

His golden eyes flicked back and forth on his ceiling as he lay in his plush bed, hands crossed over his chest in thought. Why was he acting like this? He occasionally missed a spike, but that was a rare event. Was he missing them so frequently? What if he wasn’t as good of a volleyball player as he thought? Anxiety plagued his mind, making him toss and turn in his cotton comforter decorated with owls (stylish owls, of course). Bokuto’s black and white hair became incredibly messy, reflecting his inner thoughts. Luckily, he had a means of comforting himself. When the opposite hitter wasn’t doing so well at times like these, he could always turn to you, one of his beloved Black Jackal Managers. 

You were the kindest of all the managers he had, that was for sure. While the other seven managers focused on scheduling or payroll, you were the personality hire. Your pretty face automatically boosted the morale of the entire team, like a beam of sunlight poking out from the clouds after a thunderstorm. Bokuto liked you; he really liked you. Every single practice, he would pray that you’d be there, sitting on your chair, diligently taking notes while wearing that MSBY windbreaker that covered the curves of your breasts in the most annoying manner possible. Fuck, you were so damn pretty.

Bokuto reached for his phone, which was charging on the bedside table, scrolling through his messages until he landed on your chat from a couple of weeks ago. The topic was simple: What kind of onigiri did he want from Onigiri Miya? It was just a question, but the notification made his heart race every time he read it. The pads of his thumbs hovered over the keypad for a moment, unsure of how to word his message. He wanted you to visit him. Why couldn’t he just type that? After minutes of contemplation, he had sent his message. Bokuto’s phone was thrown to the other side of the bed, nearly getting lost in the mess of thick duvet. The opposite hitter slammed his face into his fluffed pillow, groaning into the fabric. 

Kotaro Bokuto: Wanna come over and talk? Been feeling really down recently. :( 

It felt like hours since he sent the text, looking at where he tossed his phone every other minute to see if the home screen lit up. Finally, after agonizingly painful minutes passed, his screen lit up with your message, the cute little heart icon next to your name making him break out in a crooked smile. 

Cute Manager: I’ll be over in 30 minutes. Bringing my famous sugar cookies! They always brighten someone’s day <3

Bokuto practically threw himself off his bed, looking around his messy apartment. Shit, had that smell always been there? Why (and how) was there a sock on the ceiling fan? Don’t even get him started on the empty packages that littered his living room floor; this was a disaster. He had to ensure it was perfect for you, his angelic manager. You thought so highly of him; he wasn’t about to lose that due to a messy apartment. 

He cleaned like a man gone wild, sensual R&B music playing from a speaker in his kitchen. He had obtained three full trash bags and one spilling-over hamper, but he had made his apartment look presentable. The counters were no longer sticky, and the sock was down from the fan, thanks to him expertly flinging rubber bands at the blades. Bokuto was proud of himself, bearing a satisfied smirk while his hands rested on his hips in a hero pose. 

The doorbell rang. Oh fuck, how were you here already? Did half an hour seriously pass by so quickly? He didn’t even have time to change out of his black tank top! Maybe that was a good thing? Perhaps you liked looking at his massive biceps. Whatever, he didn’t have time to think about all that. His cute manager was waiting behind that door with a plate of delicious sugar cookies!

Bokuto swung the door open a little too enthusiastically, his crooked smile fully displayed amongst his handsome features. His golden eyes instantly landed on your figure, drinking in your outfit. A low-cut black scoop neck top with oversized ripped jeans; fucking perfection. You offered him a kind smile and held out the wrapped-up plate of cookies, tilting your head to the side. “Hey, Bokuto! I’m here, like I promised. Oh, and I brought the cookies. Don’t ask for the recipe because I won’t tell!” you giggled, stepping inside his apartment. It was cleaner than you imagined, and it smelled like roses. Who knew that Bokuto could be so neat?

“Woah, it’s even bigger than I imagined! Sometimes I forget how much professional athletes make annually,” you joked, kicking off your ballet flats on the shoe stand. “You must have an amazing view at night, look at the city! It’s gorgeous.” you turned to Bokuto and smiled, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s been a while since we last hung out, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah! I guess it has, eh? Time flies when you’re a Black Jackal!” Bokuto awkwardly stammered, growing increasingly flustered as the almond shape of your manicured nails made contact with his muscular shoulders. “Thanks for coming over so quickly; I thought you were at a club or something.”

You shook your head and leaned against the raised kitchen counter, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, I hate clubs. It’s always so stuffy in there, and there’s always a hand on your ass, whether you want it or not.” you brushed your hair to the side, exposing your neck. The perfume you had to carefully put on, a mixture of lilac and jasmine, filled Bokuto’s nostrils. He was only a few feet from your body, yet the aroma drove him secretly insane. “What about you, do you like clubs? You seem like the type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bokuto asked, pretending to clutch his pearls.

“Well, you’re extroverted and love having a good time. That’s what the clubs are for, aren’t they?” you paused your speech, matching his gaze with your own. “But you haven’t been having a good time recently, have you?”

Bokuto shook his head and slumped onto the sofa, his bottom lip curling into a childish pout. “No, you’re right. I just can’t hit my stupid spikes! Atsumu’s been on my ass about it like it’s my fault that I can’t seem to hit them! I mean, I guess it’s my fault…whatever! I don’t know what I’m saying anymore!” he slammed his face in his hands, groaning in exasperation. 

You smiled softly and sat next to him, patting his muscular back. “Hey, it’ll be alright. You’ve hit amazing spikes before, and you’ll hit amazing spikes again. I know you will.” your soft hands ran up and down the thin fabric of his tank top, massaging the tense muscles underneath. “We all have our slumps, you know. Nobody is perfect, not even Atsumu. Besides,” your lips were centimeters away from his ear. “Atsumu is my least favorite.”

Bokuto chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing your cheek against his pectoral. “Yeah, but he’s really funny! Except when he texts the group chat with me, Shoyo, and Sakusa…then he gets really gross. Usually about the women he slept with or something.”

“Ew,” you blush softly as Bokuto's muscular bicep wraps around your waist, his large hand squeezing the fabric of your jeans. “So, are you feeling any better now? Do you wanna eat a cookie and watch a movie, maybe? What would make you feel better?” you could feel his heartbreak in his chest, the thumbing sensation of the organ being a somewhat calming presence. “Because when you’re sad, the Jackals can’t really get anything done. No offense.”

Bokuto chuckled and squeezed you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. God, you smelled fucking amazing. Did you always smell so good? “I’m down for a movie if you’re down. What kind of movie were you thinking of?”

“Comedy, maybe? I don’t know, you can pick,” you replied.

“Comedy it is,” Bokuto leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, turning on the massive television he owned. His hand remained firmly grasped on your waist, occasionally running his thumb up and down the denim of your high-waisted jeans. He flicked through a couple of films under the comedy section in his DVR until he selected a random one. He chose it solely on how fantastic the movie poster was, naturally. 

The opening credits played from the surround sound speakers, and his hand was still snug on your waist, his golden eyes occasionally stealing a chaste look. You were smaller than him, so he really only got to see the top of your head, but you were so fucking adorable. Bokuto thought it was vital that you didn’t push him away after he wrapped his arm around you and that you welcomed his touch. You trusted him so much, making his heart beat a million miles a minute. 

The movie's beginning was hilarious, as expected from an award-winning comedy. Bokuto’s laugh was deep in comparison to yours. Of course, your laugh was adorable; why wouldn’t it be? He felt as though his heart would explode from your presence, beating erratically in his chest.

“Are you feeling okay? Your heart is beating really fast,” you questioned, lifting your face from its comfortable resting spot on his chest. “Do you need anything at all?”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to say. Should he just confess how much he wants you, how much he craves to have your lips on his own? What if you rejected his advances and quit managing the team? “Uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart, did he really just say that? Bokuto cringed at himself.

A small smile graced your delicate features at the endearing name, your tiny hand resting on his chest. “Bokuto, I’m always going to worry about my team. Especially you, you’re my favorite. Did you know that?”

His mind went blank for a second. He was your favorite. He was your favorite. Out of all the members of the Black Jackals, you liked him the most. “I-I didn’t know that at all, am I actually your favorite? You aren’t messing with me or anything?”

“Why would I lie about that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just…you’re beautiful. And I’m your favorite…it makes me feel special. I know I’m already special, just like, more special. Y’know?” 

“You think I’m beautiful?” your eyes bore into his once more, the chatter from the movie falling on deaf ears. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

Bokuto softly smiled at you, adoring how the light from the television illuminated your blushing face. “Yeah, I really think so. I’ve thought that for a while since you were hired.” his other hand cupped the right side of your face, his calloused thumb running across your cheekbone. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty, too?”

You giggled and rested your hand on Bokuto’s, smiling brightly. “Yeah, I think you’re beautiful, Bokuto. And handsome and adorable.” you leaned upwards, your noses touching. “You’re funny, kind, and sometimes a little too confident. You’re sensitive, and you care so much about your teammates. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I want you to have me,” he whispered, his voice a low baritone. “Please, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me that I can have you, even if it’s just for tonight.” his lips hovered over yours, not daring to do anything without your permission. “Because if you say it’s okay, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, sweetness.”

His hot breath tickled the tiny hairs on your face, mouth slightly agape. You gulped and nodded, closing your eyes while his hands cupped your cheeks. “It’s okay, Kotaro.”

The sound of his given name falling from your lips was all he needed to press his mouth to yours in a searing kiss filled with unfulfilled desires. It was slow and sensual, yet it held so much molten passion. His lips molded with yours so perfectly, the taste of your chapstick making him savor you even more. His hands fled your face and grasped onto your hips, pulling you into his lap with no trouble at all. Bokuto pressed your chest against his own, groaning against your petal-like lips. A spark was set in his lower belly, his hands trailing down to your ass. He squeezed the denim fabric, eliciting an adorable squeak from your mouth. 

You pulled away after a moment, both of your faces incredibly flushed. “Shit,” Bokuto breathed out, toying with the hem of your jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, sweetness.”

“Me too,” you whispered, kissing his neck gently. “I’ve been wanting to do this,” you placed another kiss, then another, and another. “For so fucking long.” you nibbled onto his collarbone playfully, earning yourself a beautiful moan from Bokuto’s bruised lips. 

“Fuck, I never pegged you for a biter. Thought I would always be the one biting you,” he purred, slipping his hands underneath your jeans and panties. You gasped at the coldness of his hands on your warm skin, how his fingers kneaded the supple flesh of your ass. “But I guess I can let you nibble on me for a little longer since you’re so damn pretty.”

“When did you get so good at flirting, hm?” you began to suckle on his collarbone.

“The moment I got signed to the Black Jackals. They’re, fuck, they’re a bunch of womanizers.” he softly moaned at the sensation of your teeth suckling at his tough flesh. “Taught me a thing or two.”

You pulled away from his neck and smiled, kissing his forehead. “So I take it you picked up a thing or two?”

“Damn right, I have,” his hands squeezed your ass once more. “Can you do me a favor and take these off, sweetness? I’ll take mine off, too. That way, we’re even.”

You got off his lap and shimmied out of your jeans, tossing them aside along with your top. You wore a matching bra and panty set, the black fabric hugging your curves tenderly. “Now, you do yours. Don’t keep me waiting, Ko’.” 

His nickname rang in his ears, your voice making it drip like honey. Bokutp practically ripped off his clothes, leaving him in only his MSBY boxers. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.” he leaned into the leather couch, spreading his legs. “C’mere gorgeous, sit on my lap.”

Bokuto’s hands once again cupped your ass as you straddled his lap, admiring how thick his thighs were. You had never noticed it before, but Bokuto was a big guy. “That’s it, good girl. Right on my thigh there, pretty.”

“Fuck,” you moaned as your clothed pussy made contact with his bare thigh, unconsciously rubbing against it. “You’re really fucking sexy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Bokuto pulled you into another kiss, aggressively slamming his lips against yours while his hands remained glued to your ass. His tongue prodded against your lips impatiently, begging to be let inside your mouth. You happily obliged, a mewl falling from your lips as his tongue briefly danced with yours. Bokuto pulled away, breaking the strand of saliva that connected your lips. “Your voice is too damn pretty,” his hand cracked against your ass, causing you to grind further onto his thigh. Embarrassed, you hid your face in his bruised neck, earning a smug smirk from Bokuto. “Oh, did that feel good, baby? Don’t be shy now; you can tell me.” he smacked your ass once more, relishing in your pleasurable squeaks and squeals. “Does someone like it when I smack their ass?”

“Y-yeah!” you whimpered into his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hips bucked against his thigh, your core desperate for friction. “Please, lemme ride your thigh. You feel so fucking good, Ko’.”

Bokuto threw his head back at your begging, his cock growing painfully hard in his boxers. “Yeah, you wanna grind on my thigh, pretty girl?” he squeezed the plushness of your thigh. “I’m the only one who can make you feel this way, right? Because I’m the best. Say it, and you can do whatever you want.” 

You let out a broken sigh and pulled your face out from his neck, your pearly whites nibbling at the shell of his ear. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good, Kotaro.” Your breath was sweet and sensual, and you were full of wanting for your release. “Please, I wanna ride your thigh.”

“Good girl,” he praised, gripping onto your hips. He began to drag you up and down his thigh, embracing the cute little noises you made. “That’s it, baby, talk to me. Tell me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

“So good! So good, Ko’.” you whimpered, a warmth sensation bubbling up inside your belly as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh. Your small hands rested on his abs, running up and down the prevalent muscle. “T-talk to me, helps me get off–fuck!” you tossed your head back, hair falling out of your face as Bokuto purposefully flexed his thigh muscle. 

He groaned at the sight of you, head thrown back, tits bouncing in your bra as you used his thigh to get yourself off. His goddess of a manager was using him to cum, his thigh. It was so fucking perfect. “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that? You come to practice in those short shorts that show off your ass so well. Do you know what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you moaned, feeling your climax approach quickly. You were basically rutting yourself against his thigh like a bitch in heat, and it felt fucking incredible. 

“Every time you bent over, I thought about this ass,” he smacked the exposed flesh, definitely leaving a handprint later. “Thought about squeezing it, about smacking it, how it would look wearing slutty black panties.” Bokuto flexed his thigh muscles even more, giving you a sturdier surface to grind on. 

“Thought about you clawing at my back while I fuck you in the locker room, so the rest of the team can back the fuck off. Keep you all to myself, my pretty manager.” he spat through his teeth, gripping your jaw tightly with his hand. “Look at me when you cum, pretty girl. Wanna see that cute little face.” his thumb ran across your bottom lip, pulling slightly.

Your mouth went slack-jawed as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes struggling to look at Bokuto while you continued to ride his thigh until you came down from nirvana. “F-fuck!” you sobbed, your hips ceasing their bucking once your high was finished. “Shit, I made a mess on your thigh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bokuto groaned, lifting you off of his thigh so quickly. “Fuck, you soaked your panties. I guess you gotta take them off now, yeah? Bra, too. Don’t be shy around me.” he set you down on the coffee table, your form blocking the movie, but he didn’t care about the movie anymore. There was only you. 

Still shaking from the shockwaves of your release, you slowly stripped yourself of your remaining clothes, placing them down on the glass of the table. Bokuto drank in your view, like an artist staring at a finished painting. You were gorgeous, ethereal, out of this world. Surely, it would be impossible for anyone else to match your beauty. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, pushing himself off of the couch to grab your wrist. “Bedroom. Now.”

He practically dragged you into his bedroom, throwing you down onto the plush owl-themed comforter. You giggled at the childish fabric as Bokuto hovered above you, his hands on either side of your head. “I take it you love owls?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I fucking love owls,” he smirked, leaning down to peck your nose. “Not as much as I love how you look right now, pretty girl.” his right hand squeezed your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple while his left hand managed to continue holding him up.

“You’re such a tease,” you moaned as he pinched your sensitive bud, his massive hand encasing your entire breast. “I thought you wanted to fuck me, Kotaro. Am I wrong?” 

“You aren’t wrong, sweetness,” he purred, rolling his hips against yours. You could feel his cock pulsating through his boxers, begging to be inside you. “Just wanna make sure you’re prepped first. I’m a big guy, y’know?” he stuck his fingers inside of his mouth, coating them with saliva before prodding at your entrance with the digits, slowly sticking them inside your heat. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Did my thigh make you cum that much, princess?”

You gasped as he curled his fingers deep inside of you, his ministrations slow and sensual. “Fuck! Y-yes, y’made me cum so much! Love your thighs, Ko’!” you squeaked, instinctively squeezing your thighs together.

Bokuto tutted and used his free hand to shove your legs apart, now kneeling above you. “Don’t try to hide it, sweetness. You know I don’t like that.” he was not knuckle-deep inside your weeping cunt, his fingers plunging inside so expertly. “Fuck, gotta make sure you’re nice and loose for me, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“S-shit! You’re gonna make me cum again!” you whimpered, grasping onto your breasts for additional stimulation. “God, how do your fingers feel so fucking good?”

“Can’t answer that for you, sweetheart. You wanna cum again, pretty girl? Want me to rub your clit and make a mess all over my hand?” he teased, beginning to massage your sensitive clit with the pad of this thumb. His fingers were still scissoring you open, coating you with the mixture of his saliva and your release. 

“Yes, fuck! Please, Ko’!” you whined, the familiar bubbling sensation in your belly threatening to spill over. Your legs were now dangling over his shoulder, quaking in ecstasy. “Wanna cum, fucking make me cum!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he offered you a mischievous smirk, furiously rubbing his thumb over your clit as you tumbled into pure pleasure once more. Your mouth became agape; your head tossed into the plush pillow behind you. His fingers ceased their movement, sliding out of your cunt covered in your slick. “Shit,” Bokuto mumbled, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “Fucking delicious.”

He gave you another kiss, leaving some of your release on your lips. His boxers were peeled off and thrown onto the nightstand as he fumbled through one of the drawers, cursing at himself. “God dammnit, I know I have one. Where the fuck is it?”

“Looking for a condom?” you asked, the breath still being knocked out of your lungs.

“Yeah, it’s being a pain in the ass to find, though.”

“I’m on the pill.” you plainly state, smiling at him. “You don’t have to use a condom. It’ll be okay with me.” 

Bokuto stopped rummaging through the drawer, turning over to look at you with a look that could only be a mixture of lust and absolute delight. ���Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m happy to hit it raw; I just don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

You nodded your head and pulled him close to you by his shoulder, pecking his nose sweetly. “I promise, Kotaro. You don’t have to use a condom when you’re with me.”

“God, that’s music to my fucking ears, baby,” his voice rumbled, his hands resting on the bottoms of your thighs. You were propped up by your elbows and Bokuto’s variety of pillows, his cock painfully hard against his abdomen. “Can’t wait to ruin this fucking pussy.”

You tilted your head to the side in confidence, winking. “Then what are you waiting for?” you spread your legs, exposing your glistening heat to him once more. “Ruin me, Kotaro.”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip and growled, aligning his cock with your cunt. “You have no idea what you’re in for, pretty girl.” the mushroom head pushed past your folds, the newfound sensation causing the both of you to moan softly. “Shit, you’re still so tight. That’s okay,” he chuckled, snapping his hips against yours. His cock slammed inside of you, filling you up so quickly. “I’ll fucking make it fit.”

“Holy shit!” you sobbed, your fingers scrambling for purchase in the bedsheets. “Kotaro!”

“That’s it, baby, scream my name while I fuck this pussy stupid.” Bokuto hissed, pounding into you without giving you the chance to catch your breath. You looked so fucking pretty underneath him, especially the way your greedy pussy took him so well. The way your sobbing walls enveloped him entirely it was perfection. “Taking me so well, good fucking girl.”

Your pathetic mewls were like that of a morning songbird, the most beautiful melody. Bokuto hoisted your legs above his shoulders once again, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You screamed, the head prodding at your cervix. “Fuck, shit, oh my god! Kotaro, f-fuck!”

His thrusts were animalistic as if he were in heat. They were uncalculated and had no rhythm, only a mission to make you stupid on his cock. His hands gripped onto your ankles while he started at your lewd form, admiring how your small hands encased your breasts in an attempt to create more stimulation. How greedy you were. He thought it was adorable. Everything about you was simply adorable. 

“Good fucking girl, that’s my girl,” he groaned as you squeezed around him, pulling him impossibly deep. “Oh, you like it when I call you that? Your pussy is sucking me in, pretty girl.” he teased, smacking the underside of your thigh. 

You attempted to speak, but all that fell from your lips was incoherent babbling. Your mind was all fuzzy, full of nothing but thoughts of Bokuto fucking you senseless. You arched your back further into the mattress, your hair forming the messiest halo above you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the bedroom, the movie in the living room being a thing of the past. 

“My pretty girl can’t speak now, but that’s okay,” Bokuto assured you, punctuating his sentences with a harsh slam inside of you. “I’ll just make you cum again, yeah? We’ll cum at the same time, okay, pretty girl? I know you got one more in you. Wanna give it to me? Don’t you think I deserve it? I wanna hear you say that. Say I deserve to make you cum again!”

“Fuck!” you sobbed, your orgasm dangerously close. You didn’t think you could handle one more, his cock bullying its way in and out of your weeping cunt. “Y’deserve to make me cum again, Kotaro! F-fuck, think I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Don’t fucking hold out on me, baby. You know I like it messy!” Bokuto bent forward, his thrusts becoming more erratic and needy as his cock twitched inside of you, begging for release. “Gonna fucking cum in this pussy, make it all fucking mine!”

“Shit!” you sobbed, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “Kotaro!” his name fell from your lips like a broken pair as you came for the third and final time that night, completely coating his cock in your glistening slick.

“Holy fuck, yeah, yeah! Fucking hell!” Bokuto roared, shooting ropes of cum deep inside your core, creating a new warm sensation in your belly. His thrusts grew slower and slower, almost as if he was attempting to fuck his cum inside of you. “Dont wanna…stop fucking you…but I’m tired.” he groaned, letting your legs fall back onto your chest. “Shit.”

Bokuto shamelessly collapsed onto you, purposely landing on your breast. He lifted his hips so his cock could slide out of you, almost with the thinnest streams of his release down your bruised thighs. “Mmm, that was so fucking good,” he mumbled against your breast, sucking on your pert nipple for a moment. “You got the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

“You flatter me,” your hands ran through his damp black and white strands, acting as a comb. “You felt so fucking good, Kotaro. I’m glad I could help out. Do you think you’ll feel better at tomorrow's practice?”

Bokuto looked up from your breast and smiled brightly, cupping your flushed face with his hands. “I’m totally gonna kick everyone's ass! Atsumu won’t know what’ll hit him!”

“There’s the Bokuto we know and love!” you chuckle. 

“I’m back, baby!” he weakly flexed his muscle, kissing your cheek playfully. “Guess all I needed was my sexy manager. Best damn cure on the planet!”

You rolled your eyes and kissed the top of his head. “You act completely different when you’re inside of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he titled his head.

“Absolutely not. I think it’s adorable. You’re adorable.” you kissed his cheek once more. “So, uh, is it possible for us to do this again sometime? I-it was nice.” your eyes landed on the floor, embarrassed for no reason.

Bokuto flashed you his signature crooked smile and laughed, kissing your neck. “What a stupid question. Of course, we can do this again! We basically confessed before I fucked you, remember?”

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot.” you awkwardly chuckled, leaning into his enthusiastic kisses. “Maybe your dick knocked all the brains out of my skull.”

“But then you won’t have any more left when you watch us practice!” Bokuto whined, snuggling his face into your chest once more. “You gotta have some brain left, okay?”

“Okay, Kotaro,” you mumbled, your eyelids growing heavy. “Hey…it’s pretty late. Would it be okay if I slept here for the night? I understand if you don’t want me to.”

“Hell yeah, you can sleep here!” He cheered softly, running his hand up and down your arm. “That way, you can arrive with me to practice tomorrow. Then I can show off my new girlfriend to the team and make them all super jealous.”

You chuckled. “Oh, am I your girlfriend now?”

“Do…do you wanna be my girlfriend?” his voice was soft and unsure.

“Of course I do, cutie.” you pecked the top of his head, pulling up the owl-themed covers. “Now, get some sleep. You got a lot to do tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mm, okay, baby. I can’t wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow.” he innocently whispered, shutting his eyes as sleep overtook him.

“Goodnight, Kotaro,” you whispered, flicking off the lamp as the two of you fell asleep in a mutual embrace, eager for what tomorrow will bring.

copyright © 4unnyr0se 2024 all right reserved

reblogs appreciated ❤

[greyskyflowers]

The idea of hell having a claim on Edwin's soul is such a fun avenue to explore. There's a lot of ways I like to think that could manifest.

Personally, I like the idea of the claim mark being inked around his throat like a tattoo, the whole way around it like a collar. It's why he wears his shirt buttoned up all the way and his bow tie all the time.

Something in another language or comprised of runes or other designs that indicate his soul is claimed, but it just looks wrong. There's no good way to describe it but even someone who didn't know it was a claim from hell would be unsettled by it.

And Charles hates it from the first time he sees it.

Especially the more he gets to know Edwin, the more it really sinks in how wrong the whole thing is.

And because the universe apparently just loves to fuck with Edwin, it also hurts. Ghosts can't bleed but sometimes it just kind of oozes a thick black liquid. It will burn, similar to the way iron burns, and it itches. Edwin will mindlessly scratch at it to the point where he'd be bleeding if he was living.

When he's in hell, it manifests as a actual iron collar. It's the same collar each time he comes back after being killed so it's rusted with old blood and forms jagged edges, ripping into the skin while it burns. When he scratches at it, he digs at the skin until it bleeds and sometimes further.

Edwin did not tell Charles about the physical collar. That might have been a misstep on his part, however in his defense he wasn't planning on ending up back in hell or Charles being in hell with him at any point.

So Charles, who's already burning with worry and rage, finds Edwin and learns what actually happens to him down here and finds out the whole time Edwin is collar like a dog... well. It doesn't go well.

Charles wants it off. The mark was bad enough but now he's got an actual fucking collar?

He wants it off Edwin. He wants it off right now. But there's no seam on the collar, it's like it was welded on. It's not meant to come off and it won't, not while they're still in hell.

It's burning into Edwin's skin when he tells Charles he's in love with him and honestly, Charles can barely focus on anything except getting Edwin out of there and that stupid fucking collar smoking and drawing blood.

But he knows he doesn't want to tell Edwin he loves him back right now. Not when they're still in hell with a monster chasing them, both of them exhausted and Edwin hurt.

He'll say it after they're safe and out of hell, after that collar is gone.

He's going to hit the ground running on figuring out how to break the whole damn claim. He hadn't pushed it as much as he should have. Edwin didn't like to talk about it or call attention to it and Charles respected that. He shouldn't have. He should have pushed it because even if Edwin only had the physical collar in hell, he still had the mark constantly.

Charles had spent many nights glaring at it, nights where it was just them in the office and Edwin actually let himself relax, undoing the buttons on his shirt until the mark was visible. His attention would always end up being drawn back to the mark, Edwin too focused on other things to notice.

If he said anything, or even got caught staring at it, he knew Edwin would snap shut. He wouldn't ever let it show again and he deserves a place to be able to relax and not worry about it. Plus, Charles knows that sometimes the mark is sensitive enough that the clothing rubbing against it makes it raw, being able to expose the mark and let it air out was a relief.

The claim gets pushed to the side with everything else that happens but when Charles gets Edwin off the table Esther had made, to torture him and Charles was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was more than okay being incredibly violent if it means people will leave Edwin and him alone, the mark is dark and black liquid is rolling down his skin in big drips.

He's ready to get Crystal involved by the time they're finally back in the office, even though he knows Edwin has no desire for her to see or know about the curse, but things actually start to go their way.

They're given the okay to stay together and keep solving cases, and Edwin doesn't have to worry about going back to hell.

They're giving the night nurse some shit, welcoming her to the agency with tongue in cheek comments when she mentions something about the cursed claim and both of them straighten up.

It's nothing concrete, but it's worth a shot. Charles feels a little bad for flinging her off the cliff at the lighthouse because there must be something good in her for her to give them this. She could have said nothing and they never would have even thought to ask her.

She can't promise it will work and she doesn't even know if it's the right information but it gives them a place to start and that's more than enough.

Once your soul has been cursed and claimed in such a way, especially by something like hell, it can't ever be completely free again. Something with the makeup of the soul being altered. Ownership of the claim must be transferred to someone else, it isn't broken just shifted.

So, in the end, the only thing that can transfer a claim on a soul like Edwin's is a stronger claim.

Charles is like fucking finally. He's ready to rip Edwin's soul out of everyone else's hands at this point. No one's got a stronger claim on Edwin than him and he'll fight hell to prove it if he needs to.

And honestly, Edwin can't think of anyone else he'd want to have it.

The spell for the transfer works and the mark changes completely. The dark ink lightens to a off grey silver color that's hardly visible unless you look right at it. The edges of the letters/runes/shapes go from jagged and sharp to curved and soft.

The mark doesn't hurt, ooze black, burn, or itch anymore. In fact, Edwin would argue that it's warm, like it's trying to soothe more than anything else.

He would almost say it's pretty.

Charles gets a version of it on his wrist, wrapped around it like a bracelet. It shows more on him with his skin color and Edwin would say it's pretty.

Maybe it's sensitive and touching it on each other feels good. So Charles gets in the habit of brushing his hands over Edwin's throat and petting at the mark. Edwin gets in the habit of grabbing Charles's wrist and holding it, fingers soothing over the mark and the soft skin of Charles's inner wrist.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Idk just fun thoughts 🤷‍♀️

[aethersea]

A neat thing about The Goblin Emperor is that while it's a classic trope of the lost heir plunged into a morass of courtly intrigue where he has no idea whom he can trust, the very first thing it does is emphasize how much he has to choose to trust anyway. Maia has to trust the head of his household to appoint his body servants, and he has to trust those servants. He has to trust the adremaza to appoint his nohecharei, and he has to trust his nohecharei. Any one of these people could kill him. Any one of them could carry gossip to his enemies, or make him look bad in public and thus weaken him in the eyes of the court. But if he so much as implies a discomfort with these choices, he'll offend powerful people without cause – and anyway, how could he possibly pick better? He has no idea what he's doing. He's forced to rely on people. He's forced to trust. The only person he actually personally chooses is Csevet, and what he chooses to do is essentially hand Csevet the keys to the empire. He got so fucking lucky there, that could have gone so incredibly badly.

But it didn't. Because, as the book emphasizes, trust is the right choice. Even when it does go badly, even when he is betrayed, that doesn't mean the trust was wrong. Because when one person betrays him, every single other person around him shows how truly loyal they are, not only by rushing to his aid, but by caring so deeply and obviously about him.

That's why this book feels so odd for its genre: there's a bunch of complex courtly intrigue going on, but Maia never plays the game. He never schemes, he's never playing 5D chess with his enemies. He has to navigate the factions of the court and try to win them to his side, but he does so by being kind and forthright. He's completely blindsided by the coup attempts, and frankly so are we, because he's just been focusing on other stuff! And he survives them, not through his own cunning, but through the love of those he placed his trust in.

[espresso1patronum]

i'd die for you, baby

f1 racer megumi fushiguro! x f!reader

synopsis: you and megumi had been dating for nearly an year, and he was everything you had ever wished for in a boyfriend—kind, supportive, and endlessly sweet. on top of that, he was one of the best f1 racers in the world, renowned for his incredible skill and charm. however, as his fame skyrocketed, so did your fears of losing him. his schedule was jam-packed with races, interviews, and promotional events, leaving little time for the two of you. despite his efforts to carve out moments together, it often felt like you were competing for his attention against the demands of his career. you couldn’t shake the feeling that the distance between you was growing, clouded by misunderstandings and the pressures of his lifestyle. just when you thought you had a handle on things, a series of miscommunications and unexpected events unfolded, threatening to unravel everything you’d built together.

cw: mdni, afab!reader, aged up characters, fluff, ANGST with comfort ending, cursing, JEALOUS and angry gumi, megumi is REALLYYY possessive and protective, smut!, nsfw content, pussy eating, dominant af megumi, megumi is freakyyy hehe

wc: 9.4k -gimme a chance :(

a/n: this is gonna be cute, i swear.

divider cred: @cafekitsune tysm<3

you hadn't seen your boyfriend in days, and the concern for him had started to grow. but what could you do? he was one of the top f1 racers in the world, constantly on the move, always focused on the next race.

sometimes, it still seemed unreal that megumi fushiguro—the same enigmatic, effortlessly cool man—was your boyfriend. you were just a regular girl, and here he was, a living legend, the epitome of calm, collected mystery. how had this even happened? how had he fallen for you? those were the questions that often lingered in your mind, no matter how much he insisted that you stop overthinking. he was the best at everything, but somehow, he had chosen you.

you dialed your boyfriend’s number, only for it to go straight to voicemail. then it hit you—he must be tied up with a sponsor deal today. he had a busy schedule, and you knew these commitments often meant no time for calls or texts.

you remember the first time you met him like it was yesterday. your brother had dragged you to one of his races and even managed to get the after party tickets. you were sipping on a drink, trying to blend into the crowd of flashy celebrities and sponsors when you first saw him—megumi fushiguro. he stood at the far end of the room, surrounded by people, but even in that sea of faces, he somehow stood out. you’d never seen someone so effortlessly cool, so... handsome. his dark hair was tousled just right, and his sharp, mysterious eyes scanned the room with a quiet intensity that made your pulse quicken.

and that's how you met him. he was known for being aloof and rude with people, but when you had asked him for a picture, you saw a faint smile on his face and he agreed. somehow, you found yourself talking to him for hours, and by the end of the night, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you’d met the kind of guy you only read about in books. little did you know, that chance encounter would change everything.

you had just returned from college, exhaustion weighing you down, and you practically collapsed onto your unmade bed, letting out a heavy sigh. your mind was still buzzing from the day’s classes, but before you could settle into the comfort of your messy room, your phone rang. the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat—megumi.

you quickly answered, trying to push away the feeling of longing that always rushed over you when you heard his voice. "love, are you alright? are you eating well? you called earlier, so i got concerned." his words were soft but laced with genuine worry.

for a split second, you wanted to laugh—or maybe cry. how could he possibly be concerned about you? he had been the one running himself ragged, hopping from one race to the next, barely getting a moment to breathe. and yet here he was, acting like you were the one who needed to be taken care of.

you bit your lip, trying to keep the frustration at bay. "gumi, how are you? you’ve been going back and forth for the last two weeks. i barely get a chance to hear from you, and now you're worried about me?"

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and then you could almost hear him chuckling, though it was tinged with exhaustion. "i’m fine," he said, his voice steady but with a hint of something vulnerable underneath. "i just worry about you. i don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself when i’m not there."

you almost wanted to slap him for being so selfless, so completely megumi. but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. he was always worried about you, even when he had every right to be focused on himself.

"you're impossible," you muttered, but your heart was softening. "i’m fine. just tired. but i’ll be alright."

there was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice lower, more serious now. "i’ll make it up to you when i’m back. i promise."

"gumi, i miss you. when will you be back?" you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them. it had been so long since you’d seen him, and the emptiness in your chest had only grown with each passing day. you had gotten used to the calls, the texts, but it wasn’t the same as having him there beside you.

he chuckled softly on the other end of the line, and for a moment, you could almost picture that small, half-smile of his. "i don't know, baby," he said. "but i promise, it'll be pretty soon."

you sighed, the sound filled with both longing and a little bit of frustration. "i just… i need you here," you admitted, not caring if it sounded too vulnerable. it was true. you missed him more than you wanted to admit, and every day without him felt like an eternity.

"i know, love," he said, his voice softening. "i miss you too. but i’ll be back before you know it, okay? just a little longer."

the next day was pretty typical. you went through your usual routine—attending your classes, zoning out during lectures, and checking your phone more often than you should have, hoping for a message from megumi. just as you were gathering your things, preparing to leave, one of your friends pulled you aside.

“hey, someone’s waiting for you in the parking lot,” she said with a sly smile, her eyebrows waggling in that way that made you curious and a little suspicious. “a special delivery, maybe?”

you frowned, wondering who could possibly be waiting for you, but you didn’t have time to ask further. you thanked her and made your way out.

as you walked to the parking lot, your mind raced with possibilities, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you turned the corner.

there, parked under the fading afternoon sun, was a sleek, shiny black ferrari—a car you knew all too well. your heart skipped a beat as you saw him leaning casually against it, looking like he had just stepped out of a magazine cover.

megumi.

he looked up as you approached, a small, knowing smile spreading across his face. it was that smile, the one that always made your heart flutter, the one that meant he had a surprise up his sleeve. before you could even process what was happening, your legs were moving on their own, and you were running toward him.

he caught you easily, lifting you off the ground in an embrace that felt like a weight you didn’t even know you were carrying was finally lifted. you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the familiar scent of him, feeling the warmth of his presence that you had missed so much.

"surprise?" he murmured into your ear.

you laughed, feeling a mix of shock and pure happiness. "what are you doing here? i didn’t expect you for days," you said, pulling back just enough to look at him, still trying to process the sudden appearance of your boyfriend.

"well," he began, his fingers brushing through your hair as he set you down gently, "i couldn’t stay away any longer. i thought i'd surprise you. you looked like you needed one."

you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face as you stood there, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

"let’s go on a date," he said suddenly, his voice light and playful, but there was something in his eyes that made you think he was serious.

before you could say anything, he reached for your bag, effortlessly lifting it and tossing it into the backseat of the ferrari. then, with a small nod, he opened the car door for you, waiting for you to get in.

"like, right now?" you asked, surprised and a little breathless. you hadn’t even thought about anything beyond his unexpected appearance.

he gave a casual shrug, his usual cool demeanor in place. “yes. unless that’s a problem for you,” he teased, as he glanced down at you.

you blinked, your surprise melting into a soft laugh. a date with him? now? how could you say no to that? you shook your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "no, no problem at all. let’s go."

as megumi slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, he glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he leaned over and gently tugged the seatbelt across your lap, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did. It was a simple touch, but one that made your heart flutter all the same.

"where’d you wanna go?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

you couldn’t help the cute little smile that spread across your face as you looked at him. “umm, anywhere... with you," you said sweetly, your voice carrying the honesty of how you truly felt.

megumi’s eyes softened, and for a split second, you saw that rare vulnerability in him. your smile—that smile—always did this to him. it was like it had the power to completely melt him, to make him forget everything except the fact that he was with you. his lips curved into a smile that was a little more than just a playful expression—it was genuine, and it was full of affection.

for a moment, the car was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the rush of wind outside. then, megumi’s voice broke the silence, low and almost... hesitant.

"you know," he said, his gaze still focused on the road ahead, though his hands tightened slightly on the wheel. "i’ve missed you so much. these last few days without you... i couldn’t even sleep."

his words caught you off guard, and your heart softened in your chest. you knew how demanding his schedule was, how much he had to sacrifice for his career, but hearing him admit how much he’d missed you, how much he struggled without you—it meant more than you could put into words.

you reached over, placing your hand gently on his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "i missed you too, gumi," you said softly. he turned his head toward you for a brief moment, his eyes meeting yours, and you could see it—the way his entire expression softened just for you, like he was holding onto this moment with everything he had. for him, you were the purest thing in his world, the one constant in the whirlwind of his life.

you decided to go to an icecream parlor. "what flavor did you get?" you asked megumi while taking a spoonful of your icecream and savouring it.

he glanced at his cup and replied, "mint choco. what about you, baby?"

"i got strawberry!" you exclaimed bouncing a little with excitement. megumi chuckled softly, the kind of smile only you could bring out of him. "idiot," he murmured.

"want a taste?" his voice was low, teasing, as he dipped the spoon into the ice cream, the creamy swirl catching the light. he brought it to his lips, tasting it slowly before pulling you toward him. his mouth met yours in a kiss, the sweet chill of the dessert mixing with the warmth of his touch.

you gasped as his lips curved into a smile against yours, the sweetness of the ice cream still lingering between you. the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine as he deepened the kiss, the world outside of this moment fading into nothing. his hand slowly trailed down your thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. you gasped as you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, his kiss deep and possessive. you were lost in the moment, responding to him with equal passion and surrendering completely to his touch.

megumi's phone rang, piercing the air and bringing your intimate moment to an abrupt halt. "fuck," he muttered a curse under his breath, clearly annoyed at the interruption. you spoke up, reminding him that it could be urgent. "mmh- gumi, it could be important." but he brushed it off, his attention still fixed on you.

"nothing's more important than you, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. but the persistent ringing eventually got the better of him, and he reluctantly picked up the phone, his gaze still fixed on you.

it was gojo, his manager, on the other end of the line. megumi picked up the call, his expression frustrated. "yeah- uh huh. tomorrow? ok, fine," he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he hung up.

you looked at him, concern etched on your face. "what happened, gumi?" you asked, your eyes fixed on him.

megumi's hand still lingered on your cheek, his touch gentle and soothing. "got a race tomorrow, baby," he replied, his exhaustion apparent.

"what? you're just back, and they're making you race again?" you asked.

megumi sighed, his weariness apparent in the weary slope of his shoulders. "i know, but it's important for the season," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

you looked at him, your eyes filled with worry. "but you're not even rested properly," you said, your voice laced with concern.

megumi shrugged, his gaze fixing on you. "i'll be fine," he said, a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

you knew he wasn't fine. after all, how could he be? all he was doing for the past two weeks was races, interviews, press conferences, sponsors and what not! he was very successful, yes, but this only came in the way of your relationship. it had happened before, ofcourse. but this time seemed a little too much.

you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, your pretty plump lips lightly brushing his skin. megumi couldn't help but smile. he adored these little moments with you, when you showed your tenderness and reminded him of how much he cared for you.

every little thing you did had an effect on him. your mere presence was enough to make him smile, and seeing you in this caring and loving state made his heart race in his chest. he wanted to spend all his time with only you. you were the only one he thought about during his restless days and nights. you were the only drivin force that encouraged him to keep going and trying.

megumi was notorious for being aloof and rude to the people who surrounded him, because he was often misunderstood. his good looks had earned him hordes of fangirls, but none of them truly knew who he was. you, however, were different. you were the only girl who saw through his so-called tough exterior and loved him for who he was, flaws and all. and because of that, he loved you more than anything.

the next day arrived—the day of his race. you couldn't shake the anticipation, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you made your way to the track. you slipped into the locker room, your heartbeat quickening. the air was thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation, but none of that mattered when you saw him step out.

megumi appeared like a vision in the doorway, dressed in his red and black racing suit. the colors clung to his athletic frame, accentuating every sharp line and smooth curve. in his hand, he held his helmet, the sleek visor reflecting the harsh overhead lights. for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur. the world narrowed down to just him—magnificent, confident, untouchable.

your breath caught in your throat. Is it even legal to look this good? you thought, unable to tear your eyes away. it was almost criminal, the way his presence filled the room, his aura commanding attention without uttering a single word.

he looked at you, his lips curling into a grin as he took in the sight of you standing there, frozen in admiration. "y/n, you're here," he said, his voice warm with a hint of surprise, though it was clear he wasn’t exactly shocked to see his girlfriend.

you blinked, momentarily speechless, before you blurted out without thinking, “yes, and omg, I think I’m falling for you again, gumi.” the words hung in the air, a little too loud, a little too honest.

the chuckle that followed made your stomach do a little flip. “falling for me again, huh?” he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement.

before you could even form a response, his hands were on your waist, pulling you effortlessly closer. his touch was warm, strong, and it sent a jolt straight through you, making you freeze in place. his gaze dropped to your lips for just a moment, then back to your eyes.

"you like what you see, baby?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper.

your cheeks heated up in response, his closeness sending shivers down your spine. "you can't say things like that while holding me like this!" you protested, trying to hide the effect he had on you.

"oh, you like this?" he asked. and damn, did that make you feel things.

you blushed, a slight pink creeping up your cheeks.

why were you so adorable? he thought.

just then, his manager gojo burst into the room, interrupting your intimate moment. he immediately took notice of your close embrace. he smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"ahh, lovebirds!" he teased.

megumi rolled his eyes at gojo's comment and grumbled, "shut up and get out."

gojo chuckled, still not leaving. "just reminding you, get your ass ready in five," he said, winking at you before he finally closed the door, leaving you alone with Megumi once again.

you knelt down in front of him, your hands steady as you carefully tied his shoe laces.

but then, as you tightened the knot on his laces, your gaze drifted upward, and that's when you noticed it: a cast wrapped around his left leg. it was subtle, barely noticeable beneath the fabric of his pants, but it was there. your heart skipped a beat.

“gumi, what is this?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, your eyes tracing the cast as if it might somehow explain itself. he froze for a split second, his expression flickering with something unreadable before he quickly regained his usual easygoing demeanor. his smile was a little too smooth, too reassuring, but you weren't fooled.

“it’s nothing, baby, really. nothing to worry about,” he said, the words coming out too quickly, like he was trying to brush it off before you could press further. you raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "are you sure? you never told me you got hurt, did you—"

before you could finish, he cut you off, his voice a little sharper than usual. "yes, i’m fine. i just couldn’t tell you because I was really busy, alright? i’ll tell you if i get hurt again, i promise."

but you weren’t ready to let it go. you frowned, looking up at him with concern in your eyes. “what happened?”

he hesitated for a brief moment, and in that pause, you saw a flicker of something—regret? guilt?—before he sighed and looked away. “i—i just slipped on the stairs,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the explanation was something he’d rather not say out loud.

you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest. stairs? that didn’t sound right, not for someone like him, someone who was always so careful, so composed. it wasn’t like him to let something like that slide. but he was already reaching for his helmet, the cool, silver surface catching the light as he lifted it into his hand, clearly signaling the conversation was over.

“i need to go, baby,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle urgency. his hand cupped your cheek for a brief moment, his thumb brushing over your skin in that tender, familiar way. then, without another word, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

you found yourself in the exclusive bio section of the stands, surrounded by the hum of excitement and the palpable energy of the crowd. from here, the entire stadium stretched out before you—massive, overwhelming, and alive with anticipation. the sound of the crowd was deafening, a constant roar that sent shivers down your spine. you hadn’t realized just how big this event was until now. it wasn’t just a race; it was a spectacle, a culmination of everything megumi had been working for.

for the past two weeks, he had been pushing himself relentlessly, practicing, fine-tuning every part of his routine. you could hear it in his voice when he’d call you—tired, drained, but always determined. the pressure of coming first, of being the best was heavy, but he never showed it. not to you. not until now.

the tension in the air thickened as the stadium lights dimmed slightly, and the commentators' voices boomed over the loudspeakers, amplified by the vastness of the arena. you heard a familiar name ring out—megumi fushiguro—and just like that, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, a wave of sound crashing over you.

“megumi fushiguro!” the commentator's voice was loud, clear, and electric, his excitement rising to match the crowd’s. "one of the most consistent drivers this season, and he's definitely a favorite to win today!"

you could hear the way the announcer dragged the name out with that signature flair, the way they pronounced it with such reverence and energy that it felt like the entire world was watching. megumi fushiguro. it sounded different when they said it—more like a title, a legacy in the making.

your heart skipped a beat as the crowd’s roar hit its peak, a mix of excitement, adrenaline, and the collective hope of everyone in this stadium. this wasn’t just a race—it was the race, the one he’d been working toward for so long.

you glanced down at the pit, catching a glimpse of him—dressed in his red and black suit, his face a mask of focus, as he climbed into his car. the helmet gleamed under the lights, but you could still see the determination in his posture, the way he moved with precision, as if every motion had been practiced to perfection. the weight of all those expectations, of everything riding on this one moment, seemed to settle on his shoulders, but he carried it with ease.

as the final seconds of the countdown ticked away, megumi’s gaze swept over the vip section, his eyes scanning the crowd. for a moment, everything seemed to slow down, as if the world held its breath. then, his eyes landed on you.

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, barely visible under his helmet. but then, to your surprise, he did something you never thought he’d do—he lifted his hands in front of his chest and made a heart. right there, in front of thousands of people, in the heat of the moment, megumi fushiguro—the calm, composed, always-in-control driver—was making a heart with his hands just for you.

your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of warmth and disbelief rushing through you. you knew him too well. megumi, the guy who would never be caught doing something so cheesy or public. but for you? he’d make that heart. he’d do whatever it took to let you know, even without saying the words, that you were on his mind.

a soft laugh bubbled in your throat, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your fingers instinctively touching your lips as if to seal the moment. it was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. you knew—deep down—that no matter how tough or reserved he appeared, when it came to you, he’d break his own rules.

the crowd around you was still buzzing, oblivious to the quiet exchange between the two of you. but it didn’t matter. in that instant, you felt like you were the only one in the stadium, connected to him in a way no one else could understand.

as he turned back to focus on the race ahead, his posture straightened, his usual intensity returning. but a small piece of his heart was still with you, tucked away behind that mask of determination. you knew it, and somehow, he knew you knew it.

three, two, one, go! the gunshot echoed across the track, and the racers shot forward like arrows released from a bow. the roar of engines filled the air, harmonizing with the cheers of the crowd. among the vibrant sea of cars, megumi surged ahead at the front, steering his sleek red bull rb19 with precision and skill. the sun glinted off the polished metal, casting dazzling reflections as he navigated the first straightaway with remarkable speed.

the commentators voice boomed through the speakers, “we see the great megumi fushiguro from japan leading the rbr team as he pulls the car into a great curve!” the tires squealed against the asphalt, gripping the track as megumi expertly controlled the drift, leaning into the turn with the confidence of a seasoned pro.

you watched from the sidelines, your heart racing in sync with the roar of the engines. you bit your lip, nerves gnawing at you. this win meant everything—if megumi clinched the victory today, he would break into the top three drivers in the world, a dream he had chased relentlessly. the stakes were high, and the pressure was palpable.

as he exited the curve, megumi glanced in his rearview mirror, assessing the competition closing in behind him. the other drivers were fierce, but the felt the weight of every heartbeat, the way you supported him and you cheering him on propelled him forward. he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. the championship was within reach, and he was determined to seize it.

as the final lap approached, adrenaline surged through your veins. you clenched your fists, your thoughts racing alongside him. you believed in him, and he needed to believe in himself. megumi had worked too hard to let anything distract him now. the finish line loomed ahead, and with one last push, he entered the final turn, the tires screeching as he navigated it flawlessly.

the finish line was in sight. you held your breath, watching as megumi accelerated out of the curve, his car darting forward like a bolt of lightning. this was it. the moment of truth. would he achieve his dream? would he secure a place among the world’s elite?

with the roar of the crowd reaching a fever pitch, megumi crossed the finish line, the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air. he did it! the world watched as he celebrated his hard-fought victory, a smile breaking through the intensity of the race, knowing that he had not just raced to the finish, but had also secured his place in history.

you jumped up and squealed in excitement. he wasn't an ordinary racer. he was the season's best. perhaps even one of the top racers of the decade. you could feel it now. the amount of both love and hate he'd be recieving after this. the tight packed schedules waiting for him. fuck. you were supposed to feel good and proud about this. you were, but how could you celebrate properly if you knew that him winning this meant no time for the both of you. sometimes his lifestyle was a bit too much for you. am i demanding too much of attention and love from him? you wondered.

the commentator’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers, “megumi fushiguro takes the win!” you ran towards the racecourse, your heart pounding. the moment you reached him, megumi yanked off his helmet, and in one swift motion, pulled you into his arms.

before you could even catch your breath, he lifted you off the ground in a tight embrace.

"i'm so proud of you, gumi," you whispered into his ear. "you won this."

a soft chuckle vibrated in his chest as he set you back on your feet, but his eyes never left yours, warm and sincere. “no," he said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion evident in his body. "i didn’t win this. we won this together. i could’ve never done this without you."

your heart skipped a beat at his words. you gently pressed a kiss against his cheek. his cheeks flushed slightly as he looked away. "stop being so damn adorable," he murmured as you chuckled at his flustered state.

just then he was called for the conference. "i"ll be back, alright?" he said as you nodded.

the camera zoomed in as the interviewer grinned, holding the mic out toward megumi, who had just finished a whirlwind victory lap.

“so, how was the race?” the interviewer asked, his voice sharp with curiosity.

megumi let out a slow, tired sigh, his fingers still curled around the edge of his helmet. “pretty electric,” he replied. “it was fun, honestly. the other racers did amazing as well. everyone pushed themselves to the limit.”

the interviewer nodded, clearly impressed by megumi’s calm demeanor, before pressing on with another question. “yeah, what about you?” he leaned in slightly, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “even after your accident a week ago, you drove like nothing happened. how’s your left leg now? it was a big hit, wasn’t it?”

what accident? you thought.

he shrugged, his voice low but steady. “it was a big hit. i won’t lie, there were moments last week where i didn’t know if i'd even be able to race today. but… well,” he shifted on his feet, cracking a small smile, “it’s nothing a little determination and a lot of rest couldn’t fix. and honestly, once I got behind the wheel, i didn’t think about it at all.”

the interviewer raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “so you’re saying you didn’t feel any pain out there?”

megumi’s lips quirked, just barely. “pain’s just another obstacle. if i let it control me, i wouldn’t be racing at all. so i focused on the road, the cars, and—”

he went on.

your mind went blank. how could he lie about being injured? why did he lie to you? why did he say that he tripped down the stairs when he clearly suffered a major injury from an accident? why did he not inform you about this?

the interviewer gave a final cheerful wave, his voice ringing out as he called, “okay then, we’ll catch you later, superstar!” megumi returned the gesture with a small, easy smile before turning to walk back toward you.

but the moment he approached, he froze. his eyes widened when he saw the tears silently streaming down your face. his breath hitched, a flicker of panic crossing his features.

“baby-” he started, but he was cut off as you turned sharply, not letting him finish. he quickly stepped forward, concern flooding his expression. “wait, what happened—?”

you yanked your hand away from his as his fingers brushed against your arm. the gesture was sharp, defensive, and his confusion deepened. “how could you?” your voice trembled.

megumi blinked, clearly struggling to process. “what—?” he started again, his voice quiet, trying to reach you.

“how could you lie to me about your injury?” you stared at him, your tears betraying the pain you felt. “you promised me, gumi… you promised you’d be honest.”

“you could’ve told me about this big injury,” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over. “i would've come. i would've—"

"i didn’t want you to worry about me, that’s why,” he interrupted, his voice strained and exhausted. he could see the hurt in your eyes, but the words just kept spilling out, the frustration he’d been holding in finally breaking free.

“but still—” your voice quivered with emotion, desperate to make him understand. “i care about you a lot. i’m your girlfriend. you could’ve told me. you were tired and—”

you were cut off when his voice, sharp and raw, filled the space between you. “don’t you see it? you’re always too worried about me. you always blabber about me this, me that. i’ll take care of myself alone for some time, alright? just stop nagging me all the time!”

the words hit you like a physical blow. your breath caught in your throat, and before you knew it, hot tears were streaming down your precious little face—uncontrolled, like a waterfall. how could he say that? how could he hurt you like that?

for a moment, megumi stood frozen, the weight of his own words slowly sinking in. he watched as your tears fell, his own chest tightening, realizing too late the damage he’d just done.

his voice cracked with regret. “i’m really sorry, baby… i don’t know why i said all that—”

but you shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping you as you wiped your eyes. “forget it,” you said, the coldness in your voice so unlike anything he’d ever heard from you. the distance between you both felt so vast now, more than just physical.

without another word, you turned and began walking away, your steps slow but resolute. every part of you wanted to look back, to see if he was following, but you didn’t. the lump in your throat was too big, and you couldn’t trust yourself not to break down entirely if you turned around.

megumi stood there, his mind racing, but his feet glued to the ground. he wanted to reach for you, to say something, anything that would make it better. but he knew, deep down, that it was too late for words now. not after what he’d said.

you did not talk to him for the next few days. as much as your heart ached and wanted to hear his voice, you just had to keep ignoring him. he felt MISERABLE. he could not bear the pain anymore. the pain that he had inflicted on you. he had seen your precious little self crying because of him. he had hurt you. he hated himself for that. though he did call and text you, you'd always reply dryly. no "gumi", or "baby". you just replied with a simple "hello" and "bye megumi". this was driving him insane.

you were in your bedroom listening to your favourite song while reading a book. oh, did you want to cuddle into his chest right now. you wanted him bad. but ofcourse, you were stubborn as hell.

you had a date that evening. not with megumi, ofcourse. your senior kashimo, had invited you to a carnival fest. you didn't turn him down. he was a good friend of yours.

you were getting ready for your date when you heard a knock on your door. you sighed, already knowing who it was. it was megumi. he stood there, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a note in the other, and your favorite chocolates tucked under his arm.

“what?” you asked, trying to hide your irritation.

“baby, please, let me come in,” he said, his voice softening as you nodded and stepped aside to let him in. you didn’t care that you were wearing the mini skirt and crop top he had gifted you, the very outfit you had chosen for your date with someone else.

“are you going somewhere pretty?” he asked, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“yeah, on a date,” you replied, a casualness to your tone that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface.

His eyes widened in disbelief. “on a date?”

“it’s just a friendly date with my senior, kashimo,” you said, trying to brush off the weight of his reaction.

he scoffed, disbelief evident in his voice. “the same guy who proposed to you last year?”

you nodded, refusing to back down. “yes, but he’s just a friend. he knows I have a boyfriend.”

megumi clenched his fists at his sides, anger flashing in his eyes. “fine, but make sure he doesn’t cross the line.”

“whatever,” you replied, the nonchalance in your voice betraying the chaos of emotions in your heart.

“whatever?” he couldn’t let that slide. “you think it’s just that easy? you’re wearing my clothes, going out with a guy who clearly wants more. this isn’t just a friendly date!”

you sighed, feeling the fight slowly drain out of you. “you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“i’m making it harder?” he took a step closer, his frustration giving way to vulnerability. “i thought you understood how much you mean to me. i thought you knew i cared.”

"tsk..." he mumbled. "just promise me you'll take care alright?" he said. you wanted to give in to him then and there. but you couldn't.

“sure, but it’s really not a big deal. i’ll be fine.” you said.

"just let me worry a little," he said smiling faintly. "i'll always worry about you."

he cared for you a lot. though you didn't say anything about what had happened between you guys the last time, he knew that you were pretty mad. he cared for you enough to give you your space, though it was very hard for him to do so.

the ferris wheel ride was surprisingly fun, and kashimo was a pretty chill guy to be stuck in a cage with. "you’re looking really pretty today, y/n," he said, eyes twinkling in the low light.

there it was. you were certain that he did not have feelings for you anymore. but him saying all this made you rethink things. maybe megumi was right and this not being just a "friendly date" for kashimo.

you blinked, caught off guard for a second. "thanks," you smiled back.

you hated that you couldn't stop thinking about megumi. why did you have to be so stubborn at the first place anyways? he was giving you an apology but you wouldn't take it. it was because you were deeply hurt. not because he didn't care for you, but because he had being a fucking jerk. an idiot who said things to his girlfriend without any regard. though he did not mean any of it, he shouldn't have let his frustration get the best of him. you were concerned for him and he yelled at you for that. you were pretty hurt.

little did you know that megumi was stalking you both. like a fucking creep. yes, he was embarrassed, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, not when you were hanging out with a guy who had feelings for you.

megumi was spying on you and kashimo as you sat there, waiting for your ice cream.

kashimo was standing a little too close—close enough that his hand brushed against your shoulder as he shifted to adjust his position. the touch was quick, almost accidental, but the heat from it lingered on your skin. you seemed quite oblivious to what just happened.

“about your boyfriend, y/n, i—” kashimo began, still really close to you.

you frowned, glancing up at him, confused. “what about him?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral, but something about the way he said it made your stomach churn.

kashimo smirked, leaning in even further as he spoke, his voice low but laced with something... almost smug. “he did amazing at the race last week.”

you nodded, a little stiff, not sure where this was going. “yeah,” you said, keeping your response short, hoping he’d drop it. but he wasn’t done.

“so... I was wondering, y/n,” he began again, his voice suddenly more hesitant, like he was testing the waters. “if you ever feel lonely… or, i don’t know, if your boyfriend is busy, you could always call me. i’m your trusty senior, after all.”

you blinked, momentarily speechless. what was he getting at? your gut twisted, but you kept your face neutral, hoping it was just some misguided attempt at humor. “um, okay? but why?”

kashimo’s smirk widened, and his next words made your heart race, but not in that way. “because… i might still have feelings for you.”

you froze.

for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. the audacity. the sheer nerve of this guy. you swallowed hard, shaking your head as if trying to shake the whole situation off. "excuse me? is that why you called me out here? to tell me that?" the words left your mouth before you could stop them, anger creeping into your voice.

kashimo’s smile didn’t falter, but there was something almost predatory in his gaze now. he took a small step closer, like he was trying to trap you in this conversation. “no, y/n. i’m here to let you know that i’m here for you. you know, with megumi being so famous now, who knows what he’s up to, if you get what i’m saying.”

the insinuation made your blood boil. you crossed your arms tightly, a scoff escaping your lips. “no, i don’t get it,” you said, your voice cold now, the tightness in your chest growing with each word. “and i thought i already made it clear to you that i don’t have feelings for you. i have a boyfriend.”

you took a deep breath, glaring up at him, not backing down an inch. “and don’t you dare talk shit about him.”

something dark flashed in kashimo’s eyes. his smile faltered, just for a second, before it turned into something far more dangerous. he clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening, and for a moment, you thought he might snap.

“you have that much nerve to reject me twice? who do you think you are?” his voice was low, seething now, and before you could even react, his hand shot out and grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him with surprising force.

you gasped, your heart slamming into your chest as you tried to pull away. but kashimo’s grip only tightened. his breath was hot against your ear, and the tension in the air made everything feel suffocating.

“let go of me!” you shouted, struggling to break free. but the more you fought, the stronger his grip became, and your mind raced with panic.

megumi watched in absolute fury as kashimo yanked you toward him, his grip too tight. you were totally helpless.

without thinking, he rushed forward as his feet pounded the pavement. in one swift motion, megumi’s fist collided with kashimo’s face with a sickening crack. the force of the punch sent the man stumbling back, his body jerking violently from the impact. kashimo barely had time to react, his head snapping to the side as he grunted in surprise.

megumi stood there, chest heaving with raw anger, his eyes burning with a fiery rage. “how dare you touch my girlfriend, you fucking lowlife?” he seethed through clenched teeth, his voice low but seething with a dangerous intensity. “oh, megumi fushiguro,” kashimo scoffed, still holding his bruised jaw. “i wasn’t doing anything—just having a little chat with y/n.”

megumi’s glare deepened, his fists still clenched at his sides. his anger wasn’t just for kashimo’s audacity—it was for the way you’d looked moments before. helpless. vulnerable. he’d failed you before, but this time, he wasn’t going to let anything slide. “i don’t care what you were doing,” megumi snarled. “you touch her again, and i’ll make sure you regret it.”

you stood there, shaken, still processing everything that had just happened. megumi’s expression softened just slightly, but his gaze was still intense. without a word, he walked toward you, his movements deliberate, and before you could say anything, he bent down and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you off your feet in one smooth motion.

you gasped, wide-eyed in surprise. “gumi! what are you doing?”

he didn’t answer immediately, his grip on you firm and protective as he cradled you against his chest. he moved without hesitation, heading straight for his car. you could feel the warmth of his body enveloping you, his jacket brushing against your skin as he carried you effortlessly.

“gumi, seriously,” you began, your voice a little shaky. “put me down.”

he didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving the path ahead as he reached his car. he opened the passenger door with one hand and carefully placed you inside. as soon as you were settled, he pulled his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders, the thick fabric enveloping you in warmth. the scent of him—cedarwood, faintly of rain—clung to the fabric, and for a moment, everything felt surreal.

"i— i’m really sorry, baby," megumi’s voice cracked slightly, making you freeze in your spot, every word pulling at your chest. "for everything i said that day. i never meant any of it. i was just… tired and frustrated, and i—i said all that shit. i'm really, really sorry." his eyes finally met yours, and you saw the guilt in them, raw and unguarded. it made your stomach twist. "you have every right to be worried about me. please forgive me, y/n. i’m an idiot… but an idiot who loves you."

his words fell into the space between you two, and for a long moment, everything was still. your heart was pounding in your chest, and yet, your mind felt foggy.

and that feeling, the ache in your chest, it was all too much.

tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. you bit your lip, trying to hold them back, but it was impossible. the way his voice had cracked, the raw vulnerability in his confession, the way he was standing there, waiting for you to forgive him, it shattered everything. every wall you had built up around your heart, every ounce of doubt you’d been holding onto, crumbled in an instant.

you tried to find the right words, but everything seemed to blur together in the rush of emotion. "i-i’m scared, gumi," you whispered, voice breaking. you could feel the tears finally falling, hot against your cheeks. "hicc- i’m scared that one day you won’t love me anymore. that... that all this won’t matter. and i’ll be left alone, with nothing but the pieces of something broken."

his expression softened immediately, and before you could stop it, a sob ripped through your chest. you hated how weak you sounded, but the hurt, the fear, everything that had built up inside you over the past few days, it came crashing down all at once.

megumi’s face morphed into one of pure desperation, and within seconds, he was right there in front of you, cupping your face in his hands, his touch warm and tender, like he was trying to anchor you to him.

“no,” he whispered fiercely, his thumbs brushing away your tears, which were way too precious for him, his voice cracking as he said the words. “no, you’re not alone. you’re not alone, y/n. you never will be. i love you. i love you, so much. i— i’ve been so fucking stupid, but i’m not going anywhere. i swear. i’m so sorry, baby.”

you felt the warmth of his hands, the sincerity in his voice, and it was as if the weight in your chest had suddenly lightened. you didn’t know what to say, but somehow, you didn’t need to. you leaned into his touch, your body trembling as you buried your face against his chest, clutching the front of his shirt like your life depended on it.

megumi’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if he never wanted to let you go. "i'm so sorry, y/n," he murmured again, his voice thick with emotion. "i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. please... please forgive me."

the tears didn’t stop. they kept coming, but they felt different now. not out of anger or frustration, but because you knew deep down that megumi’s words were real. his love for you was real. and even when he didn’t know how to handle everything, even when he was struggling with his own demons, you knew he would always come back to you. always.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and through the haze of tears, you whispered, “i forgive you, gumi. but you have to promise me something... promise me you’ll talk to me. that we’ll face things together.”

megumi’s eyes softened, his lips trembling slightly as he nodded. “i promise,” he said, voice rough, but sincere. “i’ll do whatever it takes. i swear on everything. i love you, y/n. i won’t screw this up again. i'd die for you, baby. you're my fucking everything.”

you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips, even as your heart still raced in your chest. he had a way of saying things that made you believe in him, even when the world around you felt like it was falling apart.

“i love you too, megumi,” you whispered, the words heavy with meaning.

the air inside the ferrari crackled with tension, and megumi could barely hold himself back any longer. his eyes flickered toward you for a brief moment, before he slammed the door shut and rushed around to the driver’s side. the engine roared to life as his fingers gripped the steering wheel with a mix of frustration and desire.

he didn’t even wait for you to say anything. his foot pressed down on the gas, and the car shot forward with a deafening growl. you squealed, the sudden acceleration pressing you back into your seat as the world outside blurred into streaks of light.

“you’re driving me crazy, princess,” megumi muttered under his breath, but you heard it clearly over the engine’s roar. you turned to look at him, your heart racing, but before you could even react, he flashed you a wicked grin and revved the engine again, sending the car hurtling down the street.

the sound of the engine was a constant growl beneath you, as megumi expertly weaved through the empty lanes, his focus entirely on the road, but you could feel the intensity coming off of him in waves. the speed was exhilarating, the wind in your hair, the thrill of the ride a stark contrast to the weight of the silence between you.

but it didn’t last long. megumi’s gaze flicked over to you again, and this time, there was something more in it. something raw. something dark.

“you like this, don’t you?” he said, voice low. you laughed nervously, your fingers gripping the seat as you felt the car tear through the night, the engine screaming as megumi pushed it faster. yes, he had to be a fucking f1 racer.

“gumi! slow down!” you cried out, though there was a trace of excitement in your voice that didn’t quite match the panic. “you’re insane!”

he glanced over at you again, his lips quirking up at the corners as his eyes glinted with something dangerous. “you have no idea how much you’re driving me crazy, y/n,” he said, his voice smooth but dripping with intensity.

the car sped through the streets, the city lights flickering past in a blur, but it was megumi's presence that was consuming every thought in your mind. every part of you was suddenly hyperaware of him—the way his jaw was clenched, the way his hands gripped the wheel as if he was holding onto the last thread of control. god, he looked soo fucking hot right now. his breath was shallow, his eyes flickering to you every few seconds, each glance more intense than the last.

"where are we going?" you asked breathlessly, feeling both thrill and unease stirring inside you.

he seemed pretty unbothered, his voice casual. "my place," he said, voice low, and the way he said it made something tighten in your chest.

finally, he pulled into the driveway of his house, the engine purring softly as he slammed the car into park, the sudden stop making your heart thud in your chest. before you could even catch your breath, megumi was already out of the car, moving so fast you barely had time to process what was happening. he opened your door and lifted you out in one fluid motion, his hands gripping your waist with an urgency that made your pulse spike.

you gasped, half in shock and half in excitement, as megumi’s lips curled into a smile. “told you you’d be crazy for me,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. you swore you were already wet from just that.

before you could even register what was happening, megumi had opened the door and had pinned you to the wall. his lips found your neck, and as he pressed sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin, you couldn’t help but moan, the sound echoing in the living room. “gumi!” you gasped, your heart pounding as he found that sweet spot beneath your ear, his kisses igniting a fire within you.

with a swift, unexpected motion, megumi lifted you effortlessly into the air, your body feeling weightless in his arms. his hands traveled down to your thighs, sending sparks of electricity coursing through you as he positioned you on the couch with a gentle yet assertive push. the plush cushions welcomed you, but before you could fully register the moment, a gasp escaped your lips.

he knelt down before you, he tugged on the hem of your mini skirt, pulling it down slowly. megumi smirked as he hooked his fingers in your lacy panties. with a swift tug, he ripped them away, baring your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"already wet for me, princess?" he asked and you moaned louder as he slipped his fingers into your already wet pussy.

"the voices you're making right now baby, are unholy, and they're doing things to me," he whispered as his fingers continued to work the magic.

"nngh-" you squealed as he pinched your hard nipples through the fabric of your crop top. "use your words, baby," megumi said, while he kissed the inside of your thighs, so dangerously close to your core.

"fuck! a-all for you, gumi," you moaned out desperately.

"good girl," he chuckled as he spread apart your thighs and squeezed them, pressing your knees closer to you.

this was the first time you were doing something so freaky with megumi. you had been intimate before, but he never crossed the line. today, there was this fire burning in him that he couldn't control himself quite like before.

"has anyone seen you bare before?" he practically growled as you shook your head.

"n-no i think this is my first time-" you said as he pinched your sore nipples again.

"you sure baby? no one else? i'm the first?" he asked as he bit your inner thigh as you yelped.

"y-yeah, i swear."

"that's my girl," he said as you could feel the slick arousal dripping again.

his mouth and tongue began to work and in seconds, you were a moaning mess under him.

megumi's tongue slithered between your folds, and your hole squelched out your sweet arousal, puddling down on his couch.

you grabbed at his disheveled hair and relaxed yourself against his mouth again, feeling his groan vibrate against your clit.

he grabbed your thighs harder as he violated your folds with his tongue, his pace faster. "i-i gumi, i c-can't," you cried.

"be my princess and stop complaining will ya?" he growled and slobbered over your folds like a hungry beast. you threw your head back at the sensation of his tongue flattening down your slit to suck at your hole. "fuck, you taste so good, baby," he licked his lips.

you choked as you moaned pathetically, tears escaping your eyes as you tried to squeeze them shut. this was music to his ears, your cute moans making his cock throb and harden as he sucked you filthily.

you shuddered as he swallowed your sweet release and licked his lips. megumi smiled and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. his demeanor very different from what you had seen just now.

"you okay, baby?" he asked as you nodded and he patted your head. "good."

he pulled your skirt up and readjusted your top and put a blanket over your shoulders. "you can clean up baby," he said in such a calm tone that you were doubting if this was the same man who was eating you out a minute ago.

your cheeks were bright red as he chuckled at your flustered state. "go, i'll be waiting for you here," he said as he playfully flicked your forehead with his index finger.

this was your man. the love of your life. you knew it and he knew it too. no matter the fame and recognition he got as he climbed further up the charts aa the best racer, he'd love you unconditionally. he was yours and you were his. it didn’t matter how many people shouted his name from the stands, didn’t matter how many accolades he earned. as long as you were with him, everything else could fade into the background. forever. that was all you ever needed. forever. with him. always.

[solspina]

Rating primarchs based on how good of a boyfriend they would be

full send no context

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Horus : 8/10

He’s a nice guy for the most part, very charismatic and though very goal focused he’s also kind and open to those he’s closest to. Outwardly, he’s very straightforward, stern, and absolutely ruthless to his enemies. There’s humanity within him though, and he won’t keep his friendly, loving demeanor away from those who deserve it. Find him at a celebratory event, drunk with Sanguinius, moments in which he’s full of nothing but laughter and love for his brothers and the one who stands beside him. His love language is quality time.

Leman Russ : 4/10 (negotiable)

Though he knows love, it seems to be quite strictly familial. He’s described often as ruthless and barbaric, naive and braggish. If you can put up with things like that, I’m sure he would be a fine boyfriend. Similarly enough though, he’s had many women try to court him all at once, and successfully. I can’t promise his loyalty if someone better looking comes along, as no one ever taught him the importance of that. Outside of the constant, lingering fear of replacement, he can have his caring and understanding moments, occasionally bringing you gifts from crusades and sieges on other planets. Maybe his loyalty to the emperor would apply to his lover too, if you tell him what it means to you. His love language is gift giving.

Ferrus Manus : 7/10

Rage is his fatal flaw if we’re being honest. Not towards you, but towards battle. Toward you I imagine he would be more straightforward and honest, though trustworthy and strong willed to make your relationship work. Loyalty will never ever ever be an issue with him, but it seems like he spends more time with war and battle than he does you. He spends time with you when he can, though, and he truly does care. Points off for his temper. He gave his brothers personalized gifts, and i’m sure he would go through many lengths to do the same for you. His love language is gift giving.

Fulgrim: 6/10

He’s constantly trying to be perfect, and he wants whoever he’s with to be perfect too. A lot of the time, it gets to his head. He can be incredibly ignorant quite often, and isn’t very considerate of your feelings. You’re more of an idol to him, a model. You’re human, so he sees you as perfect, something he and his people should strive to be like. Youre idealized, and under rose tinted lenses, this looks a lot like love… Lots of acts of service and gift giving.

Vulkan : 10/10

The only man you will ever need point blank period. He’s patient, he’s empathetic, he’s kind, he’s humane. He’s incredibly easy to love, and he truly is beloved. The Salamanders love you too, sometimes listening to your commands as if they were his. You’re respected as long as you’re under his arm. He wants to understand the way humans feel, especially understand the reason they wrap their arms around each other and sleep with their bodies entwined at night. His love language is physical touch.

Rogal Dorn : 6/10

He’s incredibly loyal, and also incredibly honest, but his seriousness can get in the way sometimes. You love him, very much, but there are times you get into petty arguments and he has to go consult Horus and Sanguinius for advice on what to do. He’s also very reserved at times, a lot like a single dad who’s just doing his best to keep his job and go about his day. Acts of service would be his love language.

Roboute Guilliman : 9/10

Guilliman is a great boyfriend, a great tactician, a great warrior, all of the above. The only reason i’d take a point off is because I believe he may be a little arrogant at times. He believes that his way is the right way, but he’s usually willing to listen to you and your concerns. He’s incredibly intelligent, very sympathetic and understanding of human trials and concerns, and he’s a lot like we are modern times. I think he would look for comfort in a significant other, and his love language is likely acts of service.

Magnus the Red : 3/10

Another man that I don’t recommend being with. He’s more arrogant than Fulgrim. When I said Guilliman believes his way is the right way, Magnus takes it a step up. He thinks he’s ALWAYS right. He cares, and he means well, but he’s way too much to put up with. Highly manipulative and self absorbed, don’t put yourself in that situation. He values knowledge more than he does you.

Sanguinius : 10/10

Besides the fact he’s a vampire, you’re probably the most safe with him. He genuinely cares for you and your well-being, and sleeping next to him at night with his wing draped over you is an absolute dream in a universe plagued by war. His sons may fall to their bloodthirst when they’re on the home ship, and Sanguinius is fast to wrap himself around his human partner and protect them from any and all harm. You hold him through his sorrow every time a mass of humans or his sons lose their lives, and you watch him kneel to offer you his loyalty and unconditional love rather than you offering it to him. He gives both physical touch and words of affirmation.

Lion El’Jonson : 7/10

Of course he has his moments where he can come off as aloof and paranoid, but that’s for the most part only on the battlefield. Outside, he’s incredibly charming and charismatic, but in a noble way. When his paranoia gets to him after an argument, he seeks out Sanguinius and Horus for advice, wanting nothing more to fix your relationship and solve whatever went wrong. He become more secretive as time goes on, but old habits die hard. I believe he’d offer acts of service.

Perturabo : 6/10

He’s incredibly smart, but finds relating to you and your human tendencies incredibly difficult. His moods can shift and change rapidly and violently, but I believe he means you no true harm. He would never hurt you intentionally, often opting to back away and give himself space, sometimes for days. He never returns to you without a mechanically engineered gift, though, one of his design. Alongside a very gentle hug and a conversation about how you care about him, what he loves. You love him, not for his usefulness to the emperor, but for him. His love language is definitely gift giving.

Mortarion : 8/10

He’s very confused as to why you would choose him. He’s disgusting, an abomination, he hated everything from psykers to his oppressors, what did anything matter if he would be left to the mercy of another oppressor anyways? All thoughts he had until he met you. He was cold and hateful to you at first, untrusting, and yet you showed him kindness. You showed him kindness over and over again. For once, it wasn’t just a one time thing. You’re the only thing in this universe who sees him as more than a warlord, more than the embodiment of death itself, so for you he has a soft spot. He hates the idea of having a human curl up next to him, absorbing his warmth and disease alike… and yet you do. You remind him that his touch is not deadly, and he too is capable of humanity. He will be more considerate of his decisions, because for once, something matters. His love language is physical touch, because he’s been deprived for so long, you’re the only one who allows him that piece of humanity.

Lorgar : 5/10

Does he love you? Does he not? No… He needs you… Maybe he just needs space actually.He loves you, he really does, and by god he tries his best, but when you’re as impulsive and indecisive as he is, it’s hard to know sometimes. If you’re okay with it working 50% of the time, maybe more maybe less, I’m sure you’ll be fine. His love language is… uh… well?

Jaghatai Khan : 7/10

Loyal, decently humble, and a relatively peaceful man. Outside of war, he has potential to be great to you. When war is his focus, however. Expect no attention, he’s a fierce warrior and needs to focus on his allegiance to the emperor, that’s what comes first. You follow very closely after, though! He’s quick to praise you for the things you do well and gently remind you of a better course of action when it comes to the things you don’t do too well. Acts of service enjoyer.

Konrad Curze : 2/10

DO NOT DATE THIS MAN. Konrad is a walking red flag. The self loathing, the anger, the angst, the general belief in humanity as a fallacy. He’s also incredibly violent, and may cause you serious harm if you ever managed to anger him. He’s a primarch, and you’re a human. Don’t you dare piss him off. I don’t know why anyone would realistically want that. Please continue to paint him as mean angry babygirl with a soft spot in your fics though. If you think you can fix him, you can’t. The emperor already tried.

Angron : 4/10

Before his conversion to chaos, Angron would’ve been a great boyfriend if we’re being honest. He was kind, compassionate, encouraging. He loved you when you were enslaved beside him, but once he became a primarch and lost everything, his beloved included, he became one of the most ruthless and cruel people out there until he succumbed to Khorne. He doesn’t remember you. His love language was words of affirmation.

Corvus Corax : 4/10

A very melancholic and depressed primarch. He’s very angsty and honestly a major drag to be around. He and Konrad, i feel like, would be better boyfriends to each other than either of them would be to you. Corvus isn’t as violent as Konrad, but he definitely carries on the hatred, the sorrow, and the bitterness. He’s also very sensitive, so expect to be met with either violence or a breakdown if you try to leave. 2 extra points because you may get to keep your life, his love language is words of affirmation, always followed by self deprecation.

Alpharius Omegon : 7/10

He’s they’re a great boyfriend to be honest, though very secretive, and that raises many questions. You don’t know that there are two of them. It’s a secret, not even one that you’re allowed to know the answer to. Alpharius is obviously the more dominant brother, the one who you think has a soft side. He doesn’t. That’s not him, that’s Omegon. Omegon is much more gentle, quiet, and quite honestly a little more touchy. Why? because you make him feel seen. Alpharius is used to the spotlight, so giving him every ounce of your attention feels like the usual, though he still enjoys it very much. Alpharius expresses love through acts of service and gift giving, while Omegon expresses love through words of affirmation and quality time. They make up for everything the other lacks, as long as you don’t know the massive secret they’re keeping from you…