#he's just naturally suspicious like that. i know.

[scarletttries]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)

Astarion:

- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.

- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.

- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.

- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.

Wyll:

- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.

- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.

- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.

- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.

Gale:

- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.

- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.

- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.

- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.

Shadowheart:

- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.

- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.

- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.

- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.

Karlach:

- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.

- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.

- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.

- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!

[clesired]

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 | 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “could i request a sirius black x black cat!reader? maybe he’s really awkward and whipped for her.” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! you get asked out in the least normal way you can imagine.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, black cat fem!reader, second person pov, 0.9k words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You let out a soft sigh as you stop walking, turning around and coming face to face with none other than Sirius Black.

For an infamous prankster—he sure lacks stealth.

The corridor you’re standing in is empty save for the two of you and Merlin, if Sirius’ footsteps aren’t louder than an angry Hippogriff’s.

“Can I help you, Black?” You raise a brow, crossing your arms.

His eyes quickly dart to something just a little over your shoulder, and you don’t miss the way his fingers nervously drum against his thigh as he attempts to play it casual.

“Just walking through, L/N. Same as you.” He nods slowly, still avoiding eye contact.

You don’t buy it.

Sirius Black doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.

You step closer to him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Are you trying to prank me?”

His eyes widen as he straightens up, immediately shaking his head. “What? No!”

You’re about to say something else when you realize he looks…different. Not in a particularly good or bad way—just a very unlike Sirius way.

His hands can’t stay still, he keeps shuffling his feet side to side, his cheeks are tinged with a soft blush, and he can barely look you in the eye.

Yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve caught him red-handed in the middle of a prank. Why else would he look like that?

Tilting your head, you cross your arms. “Care to share why you’re following me, then?” You ask expectantly.

His cheeks flush further as he flounders for an answer and you raise a brow.

Busted.

He looks down at his feet for a moment as he swallows. “I…” he trails off, and you take another step closer.

“You- I- uh…hair!” He suddenly blurts out, causing you to freeze mid step at the outburst.

Naturally, you look at him like he’s crazy. “What?”

He grimaces for a moment before clearing his throat and trying again. “Your uh- hair. It looks pretty.” He murmurs quietly, clearing his throat.

You furrow your brows in confusion before realization dawns on you and you glare. “Flattery will not get you out of this one, Black. Now what are you up to?”

He struggles yet again for an answer before, “Shoes!”

You look down at your shoes and frown upon not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “What are you talking about? My shoes are just fi-”

“They’re very nice.” He cuts you off, still not looking at you. His cheeks are as red as his tie at this point, and you are no less confused than you were when you started this conversation.

Sighing softly once more, you shake your head. “You’re not making any sense, Black. I just want to know-”

“The robes look good on you.” He interrupts you yet again, cheeks still flaming—but he’s looking at you now, so at least there’s that. “And the shoes, and the hair, and you in general-”

He’s beginning to ramble now, and all you can do is stand there and listen because you have no idea where this conversation is going anymore. Never really did in the first place, it seems, actually.

“Your eyes-” He’s still going, but your attention catches on something else behind him as you hear whispers behind a tapestry.

“Oh, for Godric’s sake-” you hear a voice mutter before Remus Lupin steps out, looking disgruntled as ever.

Two steps behind him is none other than James Potter—who at least has the decency to look sheepish when your eyes land on him.

Peter Pettigrew follows next and quickly scurries to stand somewhat behind the other two boys.

You have no idea when or how they got there without your notice, but in all fairness—when have the Marauders not been a confusing bunch?

Remus huffs, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts and catching your attention once more. “He’s trying to ask you out, L/N.” He explains simply.

You look back at Sirius, who smiles shyly and shrugs.

After a long moment of silence, you scoff. “Why didn’t you just say that!?”

Rather than letting Sirius respond, James steps forward, a lopsided smile on his face. “He can’t help it, L/N. He gets all nervous when he sees you and forgets how to talk, isn’t that right, Pads? Start sounding like Wormtail.”

Sirius nods quickly before looking at you and tilting his head, giving you a small smile.

Maybe it’s because his friends are here now, or simply that the proverbial cat is out of the bag—but for whatever blessed reason, Sirius finds his words. “So, um…would you like to go on the next Hogsmeade trip with me?”

You just stare at him for a few long moments, watching as he begins to shuffle nervously at your silence.

Finally, you raise a brow. “You gonna act normal?”

He nods vehemently, straightening up. “Promise.”

Behind him, the other Marauders are all nodding as well.

“Don’t worry, L/N. We’ll make sure he’s right for your date.” James winks, causing you to roll your eyes in amusement before looking back at Sirius.

“Okay.” You accept, smiling ever so slightly when Sirius breathes out a large sigh of relief and his friends start cheering loudly.

Just before you walk away, you toss one last look back at him.

“By the way, your hair looks pretty today too, Black.”

He smiles so wide it’s almost blinding, and you resume walking down the corridor with a small smirk.

3…2…1…

“Wait a minute, just today!? Oi!” You hear his loud Hippogriff footsteps start up again as he chases after you.

Yeah, he’s definitely back to normal.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! wooh, first post of the new year!!! i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[alfredojesta]

JASON THE TOYMAKER

MANSION HEADCANONS PT. 1

This includes information about his past and present. Everything here is canon to my AU. I'll be making a second post to cover his relationships.

CW: child abuse, misogyny, gore (below the cut)

GENERAL HEADCANONS: HERE

For context, Liver's Jason is the one we use for our shared AU. I just like analysing the fuck out of him. :)

✧ Jason's room is on the third floor, end of the hall. His room is a workshop. Nothing else. His door is one of the only doors that aren't plastered with decorations. It's just plain wood.

✧ He owns a flat in the city, as well as a local toy-shop. But he takes orders from all over the world, delivering toys via his "blue door".

✧ Jason isn't the traditional proxy. He doesn't work for Slenderman, nor is he "under" him in anyway—Of course, he follows the rules of the mansion, but that's because Slender grants him residency there.

✧ Slenderman brought Jason in as a way to prevent his enemies from getting to him first. They signed a contract, moving Jason from London to Toronto where the other proxies resided.

✧ Under Slenderman's watch, Jason would practically be protected from everything. It was a golden opportunity. The contract stated that Jason would be given his own workshop at the mansion. Not only that, but his own bathroom and closet—a luxury only Jason has. Because he didn't sign the contract otherwise.

✧ (In his own words, sharing anything with the other proxies sounds disgusting. Gods forbid he would ever do that!)

✧ Jason is a soul collector, meaning he must consume souls for survival. He acquires his souls from the women he "fixes", and from Candy Pop (Jason fixes his hammer, and if he needs souls, Candy Pop is obligated to hand some to him).

✧ The only way for his toys to be given an ability, or living forms, is if they have a soul infused with it. But, not all souls can be fixed to all objects. Jason will have to make several adjustments to both the soul and its vessel before they connect.

✧ Jason is a germaphobe and refuses to get any blood on him. He's always wearing a pair of gloves. When he "kills" victims, he's really only harvesting their souls. Their embalmed corpses are then beautified for show.

✧ Because he's a soul collector, he has great intuition when it comes to reading people. It goes well with his social expertise.

✧ Jason has always been charming. Good at masking in public. He treats socialising as a game, predicting what someone will say and choosing the correct dialogue option to get his desired result. Socialising can be exhausting since he's always putting on an act. (Some might even say he's autistic...) (Because he is!)

✧ Jason is polite to the others. He remains respectful and civil, coming across as friendly to all��if not a little monotonous and bland. He's shockingly a good listener when he's not held up with orders. But, he tends to only speak up if the conversation pertains to himself.

✧ If Jason is provoked otherwise, he'll do what he can to fight back without ruining his reputation. In serious cases, he lashes out. He finds ways to get back on top, painting himself as the wronged. It always works, but certain people have learned to be suspicious of him.

✧ He speaks formally. Never swears, unless it's using the lord's name in vain. His vocabulary is large, but he doesn't speak bombastically. Jason reads a lot of books when he has the time to. He enjoys classic literature, but refuses to touch anything modern.

✧ Jason is rather awful with technology. He knows the basics (such as texting, taking photos, answering emails), but he's the type to use a real encyclopedia instead of looking something up on the internet. The transition from the Victorian Era into the 21st Century was horrid for Jason, given he was in the Under World for most its development. When he got out in the late 1900s, everything was different.

✧ His hair is naturally wavy, but he straightens it every morning. His demonic form tends to poof his hair back up, which angers him even more. Only a few people have seen Jason's demonic form. He hides it well.

✧ He loves doing his makeup and he can't live without it. He would do his nails but they're all short, chipped, or on the verge of tearing off. Jason's fashion sense is classy, though he has somewhat of a ring-master flair. He definitely wears heels. 6'3" and greedy. His femininity is something he's insecure about, but won't ever admit it.

✧ His cane was given to him by Splendorman, who believed Jason was a ringmaster like him. Jason decided to keep it because it went well with his outfit. But also... it helped him walk... He never knew how bad standing 24/7 was for him until he got that cane.

✧ Jason liked circuses because he'd see them on newspapers when he was younger. But he was never allowed to go. Nowadays, he hates clowns. He thinks they're so fucking annoying. Jason will hang himself before he has to go to another shitty circus show.

✧ Jason's flat is decorated with a patch-work aesthetic. Not out of choice, but because Mr. Glutton keeps chewing on the furniture. He also chews on Jason's clothes, which is why they have stitches and patches. Jason has tried to get Mr. Glutton to stop, but that damn snake won't listen.

✧ For Liquorice, Red Mouse, and Mr. Bunny, Jason crochets fake food for them, which he keeps in his fridge. His fridge lacks anything else. There's just lemons, sweetener, milk, and peas in the freezer. He doesn't have a spice-rack anywhere, and if he did, it'd only have table salt and sugar.

✧ Jason likes to craft furniture himself. Everything in his flat is also painted by him. The cabinets have designs on them. So do his pots and pans; dinnerware and cutlery. Jason isn't allowed to paint the ceiling, but if he lived in a house, he would.

✧ Jason is obsessed with his image to a frightening degree.

✧ Jason started off as a lonely boy with discouraging parents (abusive father, and a desperate mother). He only had Amelia, whom he clung onto. Despite Amelia being popular, she was soon isolated after becoming his friend. Jason was bullied by the others for not fitting in. He was called names, physically assaulted, and ostracised.

✧ The bruises piled up. From school and from his father, who was adamant on "toughening" him up. At the age of 10, Jason sprained his wrist. He learned how to use his left-hand in this time. Jason's father resented him for his aspirations. For his "feminine" traits, and lack of social skills. Jason bottled up his feelings, deciding it'd be better to live with them than be vulnerable.

✧ Jason was their only son, but he couldn't live up to their expectations. Jason was exposed to domestic violence between his parents, who'd often argue about him. It started to sound like it was his fault that nothing was going right for the family. And maybe it was.

✧ Jason's misogynistic ideals come from his father. He learned to internalise his teachings, even though he never liked his father. Jason is never outwardly misogynistic (in fact, he tends to speak out against sexism), but he holds the women in his life beneath him. Jason also has internalised homophobia, but that's directed toward himself.

✧ Amelia's family supported Jason when he was kicked out by his parents. He was able to rent a little flat! And after getting his shit together, he started up his business. Amelia was there to encourage him and give him anything he needed for the shop.

✧ Jason wasn't used to so much "love" and attention. There would be crowds building up on the streets of London, waiting for his shop to open. People his age wanted to be around him instead of picking on him for being weird. They'd give him their numbers, invite him to social events, actually show interest in him. Jason was bewildered, but not opposed to it in the slightest.

✧ NGL HE DEFINITELY ATTRACTED MILFS BECAUSE OF ALL THE MUMS THAT CAME IN WITH THEIR KIDS.

✧ Jason develloped issues with his image around this time, believing he had to be absolutely perfect no matter what. If he saw even the slightest flaw, it'd drive him mad. He perfected his makeup, his hair. His clothes were always ironed and fitted. He was a picky eater, only consuming what would keep him in shape. Jason's routine is rigid. He doesn't let anything disturb it.

✧ Amelia called him out several times, stating that she should be allowed to make friends if Jason's allowed to make friends. Jason has always told her that they're the only good people in the world, so it made no sense for him to go out and befriend others. Jason reassured Amelia that his loyalty is with her, and he's only putting up a good front for business.

✧ That made Amelia even angrier, because now she knew Jason was faking his personality. It drove her the wrong way, but Jason would manipulate her into thinking she's overreacting.

✧ The more people that "loved" him, the more Jason was pressured to keep that "love" on him. Over the years, the pressure became too much. He overworked himself to death. Kept himself in the workshop day and night. So focused on working, he neglected other aspects of his life (such as himself and Amelia).

✧ It was difficult to balance his work-life and his self-care, but his work-life was so much more important. Without it, he wouldn't have that attention he so desperately craved. Jason only forced himself back to his flat when he realised he had to bathe. In these moments, he'd hate himself for being occupied with his work to a point of abandoning his routine. He was still human back then.

✧ Amelia would often be with him at the workshop, but her company stopped helping. Jason's patience thinned, and he started to lash out at her if she hummed, breathed too loudly, or even moved at all. Their final argument cut Amelia from his life entirely. Jason was so disgusted with himself, but he kept thinking Amelia would come back.

✧ Weeks passed, and Amelia didn't come back. Jason couldn't focus on his work. There was that nagging voice in the back of his head that told him to go find Amelia. He couldn't ignore it. He knew he had to do something. So he crafted the music box for her. Went to her house to apologise. He looked better than he ever looked that day.

✧ Jason poured his heart out to Amelia. He told her much he missed her, and how sorry he felt for hurting her. He promised he'd never do anything like that again, reassured her that his priority will become their friendship. He held out the music box. A beautiful gift. The start of new beginnings. And Amelia refused to accept his apology—

✧ What?

✧ ...She refused? That doesn't make sense. Jason worked so hard on that. They'd been friends for so long. How could she just drop him like that? Amelia shoved the music box back into his hands, yelling at him to never show his face again. Jason couldn't believe it. Did she just forget everything Jason did for her?

✧ Jason stood at the entrance. Everything was quiet. He lost her for good.

✧ Jason went back to his workshop. Beyond stressed, malnourished, and lacking proper sleep. He was angry, too, but he wasn't sad. He couldn't be sad about it, only frustrated that Amelia would be so unreasonable.

✧ He was spiralling, so close to losing it when a little girl knocked on the shop. It snapped him back to reality. He's a famous toymaker, right! People still "love" him. That's what he worked for. He doesn't need Amelia anymore...

✧ Oh, but the shop was closed that day. The girl was on her own, and it wasn't an especially busy evening. Jason put on a friendly facade and welcomed her in, but warned her the shop was closed, and she needed to be quick.

✧ The girl took her time. It bothered Jason. It bothered him a lot. What was she doing? The girl was about eight years old. Maybe her mum or dad would come get her soon, Jason hoped. But no.

✧ She finally picked out what she wanted. The music box—No, that's not for sale. Jason took it back, telling her to find something else. But the girl insisted upon it. Jason didn't have time for any of this. He had to go back to work. She continued to bargain with him, and Jason was so close to losing his patience. That music box was for Amelia—but, why was Jason trying to save it in the first place? Amelia refused it, so he should just give it to that child, right? Gods, everything is too complicated. He's stressed out of his damn mind and nothing's going right for him anymore. And that whiny child kept on crying about wanting that stupid box—

✧ Jason couldn't think.

✧ A chord in him snapped. He became victim to his own anger. Jason killed the little girl on accident—mallet to the head. He didn't know what he did until she tumbled back. The music box broke apart as it fell from her hands.

✧ Jason dropped the mallet. There was blood splattered on his face. There was blood. On his face. Jason looked down. The child was dead.

✧ Jason knew he had to dispose of the body. Everything was at stake. He could dismember her corpse, hide it in Mr. Glutton. That'd work.

✧ But he first had to lock up the store. Cover the windows, and bring the corpse to the back. Still, he couldn't bring himself to start sawing. Jason was disgusted with his actions. He had sobbed for what seemed like hours, unable to get himself together. Even as Jason began to dismember the body, he took multiple breaks, having to calm himself down from the horrific sight. Hyperventilating and nauseous. He had no one to blame but himself.

✧ But it wasn't his fault.

✧ It was the little girl's fault. It was Amelia's fault. It was the kids at the playground. It was his mother. And it was his god damn father.

✧ When Jason finally hid the body—he didn't know how much time had passed. He looked like a mess. He wanted to throw up. He hadn't slept in days. Hadn't eaten. He didn't want to leave the workshop. Even though it smelt like rotten flesh and blood.

✧ Things got worse when a customer knocked at the door. It must have been an opening day. Jason didn't want to answer. He didn't want to do anything anymore. But it'd look suspicious if he didn't.

✧ Amelia was there. Jason said nothing, processing her appearance, wondering if she was even real. But Amelia only came to return the old gifts he gave to her. Jason thought now would be the perfect time to win her back. If he told her his pitiful story—about how he was so stressed, he took it out on a stranger—she'd feel sorry for him. She'd realise how unlike him it is, and she'd finally forgive him.

✧ That didn't happen. Instead, Amelia was scared. She asked him where the stranger was. Who was it? Where did this happen? And then Jason broke down, admitting to everything. He begged her to stay because he couldn't take it anymore. But Amelia refused. Heartbreak was quick to transform into anger.

✧ The two of them got into a small fight. It's here that Jason dies, actually! Because he's so weak, Amelia easily knocked him to the floor. Amelia didn't want Jason to live anymore. She was scared for his future. He could grow up to be someone awful. To prevent him from killing more girls, and abusing more women, Amelia sliced him down the chest with a saw.

✧ Unfortunately, he didn't die. But he was sent to the Under World—which is like a purgatory in my AU.

✧ Jason is basically cursed, in a way. He woke up in the Under World as a vengeful demon. He lived there for a couple of years before he was sent back. I say he's cursed because Jason has all the abilities he could want, but it'll never be enough. He's trapped in a cycle. He sabotages his own life by just being himself. I'd love to go more in-depth on this analysis one day, but for the sake of simplicity, this is all I'm saying here.

✧ The scar Amelia gave him never heals. Jason always has to sew it back up. No one knows he has the scar. He knows it's his only flaw and he despises it.

✧ His heart is NOT a music box. It's just rotten, like his blood! It beats quietly. Very faint unless someone goes right up to it, but he'd probably punch that someone if they tried.

(dividers by dollywons) ☆

long post! i apologise. i love him very much, and this doesn't even scratch all of him. there's still A LOT more i have to say. like a shit ton. feel free to send any questions because i love yapping!!! :D hhehehe

[reverie-dreamscape]

My counterarguments to Nagito Komaeda influences Hajime Hinata into homosexual activities accompanied with his feminine aura he spreads through his toxic submissive homoerotic flirting by Goku Nr.1hater.

Note: I am fully aware that this account and the thread could be satire, but I decided to respond just for fun. Please know that I have no ill will towards the original poster (OP). My responses are portrayed seriously but are meant to be taken as informative and lighthearted. I will only address the first part of this thread due to the image limit and because I do not feel further follow-up is necessary. Additionally, I will not be discussing any religious incentives as I prefer not to engage in discussions about personal beliefs forming opinions on certain topics. Shoutout to suitov for reposting and sourcing the thread on Tumblr. (CW: Mentions of cancer and discussion of intimacy.)

The term 'rivals' is inaccurate for describing Hinata and Komaeda's relationship throughout the game. Rivals compete for a common goal or superiority over one another in a competitive setting, such as sports teams vying for titles and notoriety. Hinata and Komaeda's situation is more about conflicting goals and misconceptions. Komaeda's goal is driven by his ideology that hope is the absolute good, often achieved through sabotaging means. In contrast, Hinata's sole goal is survival, and as the protagonist, he is thrust into the role of investigator.

Furthermore, Komaeda's behavior often creates conflict between them. He exhibits antagonistic traits, such as challenging others' deductions and beliefs during Class Trials and displaying suspicious behavior through his blunt communication and off-putting mannerisms. However, he isn't purely an antagonist, as he both hinders and aids Hinata's ability to solve cases. We must remember that we view Komaeda through Hinata's eyes throughout the game. This means that we, as the audience, don't fully understand Komaeda's reasoning and thought processes. Our perception of his character is shaped by the narrative and others' opinions about him. We see Hinata's comments and reactions, as well as how his classmates often ostracize and villainize Komaeda. Consequently, the audience tends to do the same. This is why the Free Time Events (FTEs) are crucial—they provide insights into any given character that we wouldn't naturally get from the main story.

(Put a pin in that 'crush' part; I'll get back to it.)

Hinata doesn't despise Komaeda; he struggles to understand him. Hinata is a realist who is cynical and often blunt. He was disheartened by Komaeda's detrimental behavior during the first chapter. This incident changed their once casual relationship during the prologue to one of confliction for the rest of the game. This is why you can't access Komaeda's FTEs after the first chapter—Hinata would have no reason to engage in conversation anymore because Komaeda broke his trust. His responses reflect this, as he acts more defensive, dismissive, and annoyed.

Hinata also has a habit of walking away from complex or emotionally driven situations to clear his head, as seen several times during Komaeda's FTEs and in Chapter 2 when Komaeda was tied up in the old hotel. Despite this, Hinata is fundamentally empathetic, and even without the FTEs, you can tell his relationship with Komaeda was complex and that he did want to understand him.

In Chapter 5, after discovering Komaeda's body: (Note: I'm using the dialogue from the official English translation of Super Danganronpa 2, which fan translators have shown to be a poor translation. This includes tone, character speech patterns, and context.)

His response to the Monokuma file: "What a tragic situation... just reading this is making me depressed."

His response after checking the Monokuma file: "I... never thought I'd have to investigate Nagito's body..." "He probably didn't expect to end up like this either."

While investigating Komaeda's body: "I never expected Nagito...to die like this..." "He was always spouting nonsense about hope and trying to confuse the hell out of us..." "But even so...dying like this is just too cruel." "Also... he wasn't completely useless... There were times we were only able to reach the truth because of him." "But... everything good and bad about him is gone." "We'll never be confused by him again. We'll never be saved by him again..."

(As someone who studies neurology as a hobby, this had me in stitches. It took me several minutes to get a hold of myself.)

The images in the top right and left corners are of neuron cells. The myelin sheath is a protective structure around the axons of neurons that facilitates the effective transmission of communication within the nervous system. Axons are nerve fibers that connect neurons for communication. The myelin sheath prevents electrical signals from dissipating while traversing through the nerves, reducing the energy required for the task.

Multiple sclerosis (MS) is an autoimmune disorder in which the immune system attacks healthy tissues, affecting the central nervous system (CNS), including the spinal cord and brain. MS specifically damages the myelin sheath, resulting in the disruption of electrical signals, leading to symptoms such as motor impairment, balance issues, and cognitive impairment, such as memory problems and difficulty with problem-solving skills. It can even cause loss of sight through optic neuritis, which involves inflammation or damage to the optic nerve. The optic nerve is a cranial nerve that connects the eyes to the brain. The other images are electrocardiograms (ECGs), which represent the electrical activity of the heart or heartbeat lines.

So, is the theory that Komaeda has MS? Because he doesn't; he has Frontotemporal Dementia (FTD) and Malignant Lymphoma.

Frontotemporal Dementia (FTD) is a neurodegenerative disorder that reduces tissue in the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain, leading to cognitive decline. Komaeda’s diagnosis is the behavioral variant of FTD (bvFTD), which profoundly influences his behavior and personality. Patients with bvFTD experience disinhibition, an impulsive behavioral trait characterized by a loss of self-control and judgment due to gratification. This can lead to inappropriate social behaviors, comments, and repetitive behaviors. Patients often lose the ability to perceive others' emotions, leading to symptoms like apathy and withdrawal. Apathy is a loss of interest in activities and loved ones. This is why most patients with FTD often don't recognize that their behavior is inappropriate or detrimental.

Malignant Lymphoma is cancer developing in white blood cells called lymphocytes, resulting in the development of lymphoma in lymph nodes. Lymph nodes are a system of glands that filter germs and help fight infections. Lymphoma is cancer that develops in the nodes, typically causing swelling in the neck, axilla (underarms), and groin. Stage 3 lymphoma is defined by the presence of cancer in regions on both sides of the diaphragm, which is the muscle that separates the chest from the abdomen. This means you can find cancer both above and below the diaphragm. His spleen and liver would also be at risk of enlargement, as these are part of the lymphatic system. Symptoms of lymphoma include lymphadenopathy (enlarged lymph nodes), fever, night sweats, weight loss, and fatigue. Despite lymph nodes being a primary part of the immune system, Malignant Lymphoma is not considered an autoimmune disorder.

The first image is a conversation between Monomi and Hinata after she untied and let Komaeda out of the old hotel. Mind you, this was after Koizumi's death.

Monomi: "Yes, it was me." Hinata: "You... why'd you untie Nagito without anyone's permission?" Monomi: "D-Did I do bad?" "I just wanted everyone to get along... and, you know... cooperate..."

Hinata has every right to be frustrated by Monomi's choice. Hinata last spoke to Komaeda after bringing him food in the old hotel, and that conversation didn't leave the best impression on him, which is something I'll go more in-depth about later in this thread. Hinata had just finished his own investigation into Koizumi's death, which probably caused him a lot of discomfort and grief. He already struggles with skepticism and the thought of being stuck on an island with a potential murderer and classmates he doesn't know personally would leave anyone easily irritable. Hinata and Nanami had also just completed the Twilight Syndrome Murder arcade game, leaving them with more questions than answers for the investigation, which probably frustrated Hinata as it was Komaeda who encouraged him to play it. But this is not evidence of him hating Komaeda; this is him being wary and uncomfortable about the thought of Komaeda running around after what the first Class Trial revealed.

The second conversation is directly after Hanamura's execution during the first Class Trial, and everyone is confronting Komaeda's behavior.

Komaeda: "Well, I don't mind what you think of me..." "In actuality, thanks to Byakuya, I'm starting to feel a small desire to live." "Mostly, I just want to watch everyone destroy all the despair that comes for you, one after the other...!" "Ahaha, just kidding!" Owari: "Hey, can I punch ya? I just won't be satisfied till I punch ya!" Hinata: "Fine..." "Let's stop this already... It's just going to be a waste of time if we keep dealing with him...!"

Hinata never stated he hated Komaeda; this is an assumption Komaeda made. Something he comments on right after: "That stings... I felt you and I were quite similar."

We need to keep in mind that Hinata spent the entire prologue with Komaeda by his side, who was openly friendly to him and provided information and guidance as Hinata was the last to explore the island. Despite being strangers, this casual interaction probably left a sense of camaraderie in a strange and frightening situation. Furthermore, Komaeda spent the investigation with Hinata, furthering this feeling of association through helping each other. Hinata is allowed to be hurt and frustrated by Komaeda's dangerous behavior. But equally, Komaeda is allowed to be hurt by the sudden shift in Hinata's behavior and giving him the cold shoulder because he is facing the consequences of actions he doesn't understand are indecorous.

Komaeda's voice never sounds like moaning. Not in the English dub nor the original Japanese recording. His conversation is clear, easy to understand, and perhaps a bit airy, but not moaning. Komaeda's voice is purposely portrayed as raspy and breathless due to his underlying health issues. It's supposed to sound like he is struggling to catch his breath or has respiratory issues. Even out of context, with only audio, it can't be mistaken for moaning—it's merely conversation. The music elevates the tension, and Komaeda sounds almost playful and, at times, could be mistaken for menacing in the way he speaks. The only time he seems to make a noise similar to moaning is towards the end when he is asking Hinata to come back to help him eat, as he is unable to while tied up. He had previously stated that he was too embarrassed to ask a girl and was hoping Hinata would lend him a hand. Komaeda hadn't eaten for a day, which would have elevated his desperation.

A common symptom of Lymphoma is the loss of appetite, due to its nutritional deficiencies, and it can contribute to weight loss. This is caused by factors like feeling full, gastrointestinal issues, or even lymphoma growing in the abdomen and pressing on the stomach or spleen. It's possible he could be suffering from low appetite, as he only requested toast and milk from Koizumi. (Apparently, he isn't fond of rice. Rice is a very filling main and side dish, so this could contribute to his low appetite.) This means he could be even hungrier than initially considered.

Since I'm already discussing this, Komaeda is within a healthy weight range for teenagers who are 180 cm (5'9"). His lanky build, broad shoulders, and protruding collarbone could result from bone structure and muscle composition. He could simply have low body fat instead of being underweight, but I fully understand any fan who considers him underweight, as it does make sense for his build and health. Furthermore, and I can't believe I'm talking about this, men can moan, and while moaning can be arousing, its intended purpose isn't for seduction. Moaning is an involuntary vocalization, which are sounds we produce without conscious control, such as laughter or shouting in surprise. Involuntary vocalizations are all physiological responses, such as how nervous laughter can be a coping mechanism for embarrassment or anxiety. This is caused by external stimuli, like experiencing pain, so you cry out.

Moaning as a term falls under several categories of vocal expressions, with the one being referred to here derived from physical pleasure, like intercourse. Moaning is a non-verbal communication of enjoyment.

Komaeda isn't doing that. None of his dialogue in this scene is intentionally suggestive. The only subjects brought up were: the Twilight Syndrome Murder arcade game, questioning why Hinata had arrived instead of Koizumi, if anyone has played the game yet, how they shouldn't turn away in the face of a challenge, and Hinata helping him eat.

Also, prostitute is an outdated term, we refer to them as sex workers now.

I've already spoken about Hinata walking away from situations to organize his thoughts, but we have to consider the context of this scene. This is the first time Hinata is seeing Komaeda after the first Class Trial. After Komaeda had broken his trust, Hinata now perceives Komaeda as unpredictable and untrustworthy. This is Hinata facing someone who he was closest to during that murder attempt and who could have been his target if Togami hadn't thwarted Komaeda.

Because Komaeda was fully committed to killing someone, no matter his reasoning, that was still detrimental to his relationship with Hinata. Hinata has every right to be put off by Komaeda's casual greeting and undisturbed reaction to his own captivity. He is not in the wrong for walking away from someone he believes is manipulating him, even if in reality it is a misunderstanding, as Komaeda was simply attempting to encourage him and, by proxy, his other classmates to be proactive and prevail even when things seem dim.

Do you believe this because Komaeda has exhibited symptoms of being physically attracted to Hinata and thus wants to experiment intimately with him, despite him starving and being tied up by classmates who ostracized him for behaviors he can't control?

Or do you believe this because you want to villainize a Queer-coded character who is shipped with the protagonist, whom you deem heterosexual, and thus recontextualize any situation Komaeda is in as sexual to corroborate that he is a predator?

I'm not saying that Komaeda couldn't display intimate behaviors during inappropriate times, as bvFTD does cause him to struggle with social cues. We do see him unintentionally being flirtatious towards Hinata as an attempt at humor and lightening the mood. But the intentions of the thread are starting to worry me.

By the end of this thread I will have done enough research to become a successful smut fanfiction writer. :]

Komaeda wasn't lying about his diagnosis; he was lying about not having it to keep Hinata at arm's length. While Komaeda may speak of the misfortunes in his life in an almost excitable way, there is an underlying level of anxiety to his actions. He is afraid his bad luck will affect those close to him.

In Danganronpa 2: Ultimate Luck And Hope And Despair, Volume 10, he walks by countless bodies, people who were indirectly harmed due to his luck cycle. His luck is the direct cause of his isolation, both in terms of lacking parental figures in his life and his socialization. His social impairments are further exacerbated by his bvFTD. Komaeda felt connected and comfortable enough to share his diagnosis with Hinata but, in the end, when he began to suspect Hinata was growing pity for him, he placed a barrier between them again.

Island Mode: Nagito's Ending "...Hajime, I thought I would die on this island." "I thought I would finally be released from the cycle of good and bad luck, but I was clinging to false hope..." "I was always looking for hope somewhere within my sight, or within my reach." "But now...it's different." "The time I've spent with you on this island has taught me that hope was inside me from the very beginning."

Komaeda fears being misunderstood, rejected, and isolated by the people around him. He has a duality of self-loathing where he objectifies himself by advertising himself as a physical tool for hope, yet he desires others' acceptance and love. His actions are never out of intentional deception or manipulation; as I said at the start, he simply sabotages as a means to create opportunities for his ideology to flourish.

He wasn't telling Hinata about his diagnosis to deceive him; he was telling him because he felt connected to him. Furthermore, Komaeda is aware that he has a lying problem, which is why he ends up with the liars' disease during Chapter 3. He lies because it keeps that social distance or because he believes it would be a net positive in the end, but he also lies unintentionally.

I think this is the only time I can actually agree with you. He is purposely drawn to be unsettling. Hinata's words read as him being uncomfortable or disturbed, and the swirling eyes indicate despair. It is very probable that Komaeda has always been in despair, which would explain his more eccentric behaviors, as he acts similarly during his time as a Remnant of Despair.

Hinata doesn't know Komaeda, which is why he is constantly trying to understand him. If you played through Komaeda's FTEs, Hinata questions himself multiple times about why he bothers attempting to converse with Komaeda. Yet he does anyway, and while he walks away just as confused, he does feel he made some progress.

Free Time Event 5: "In the end, everything Nagito said..." "...I don't know what was true and what was lies." "But even so, there might've been a definitive truth hidden somewhere in his words..." "If there wasn't...there's no way I could feel this mysterious bond between Nagito and me." "If...he does obtain the hope he wants, what is he going to do...?" "Strangely enough...I feel like I want to see that..."

Sounds like more conformation for my theory that he has always been in despair to me.

Komaeda likes to tease and joke around with Hinata. He is optimistic towards others and attempts to lighten the mood through humor and misplaced jokes. His repetition of certain phrases could be an attempt to carry a bit between them. A bit is a term that originates from stand-up comedy and refers to an inside joke between mutuals that gets carried throughout a performance.

Komaeda enjoys poking fun at Hinata, making slight jabs at his appearance and intelligence in a non-harmful way. This is likely due to Hinata's more defensive and cynical nature. Hinata can be occasionally dramatic, and Komaeda is attempting to be friendly with him to lift his spirits but unintentionally ends up provoking him instead.

Komaeda can come off as threatening. He is one of the taller students and behaves in ways that could be uncomfortable to others. However, this doesn't mean he is trying to be dominant in any given situation. He is misunderstanding social cues, non-verbal cues, and spatial awareness.

These aren't pajamas; they are jinbei (or jinbe). Jinbei is a two-piece men's wear made of thin fabric worn during summer, as Japanese summers tend to be very hot. They are stitched and designed specifically for managing the heat. Dark blue, grey, and black are considered baseline colors for them. This photo isn't meant to show the dichotomy between them—it's just artwork of them. Hinata and Komaeda are often paired together for promotional displays. They are the most thematically tied-together characters in the franchise after all.

Hinata and Komaeda have a lot of parallels in terms of narrative and character growth. Both were fostered in a social hierarchy that treated Ultimates as dignitaries who were set for life after graduation and excelling in their work fields, while the talentless were considered disposable and merely arbitrary within social camaraderie. Both were self-isolating, self-conscious teenagers who viewed their worth through high expectations and conformity. Komaeda's obsession with the Ultimates was most likely exacerbated by Hope's Peak Academy, which pioneered a social hierarchy contributing to oppression and dissonance between people. Both Hinata and Komaeda had to learn that talent does not make a person, and they learned that through each other.

Hinata and Komaeda's expressions don't matter in this context. If we did want to analyze this, Komaeda's more subdued expression contrasted with Hinata's more energetic expression could simply be because they are relaxed in this moment. Hinata would not be grossed out if Komaeda's hands were to touch or accidentally brush against his. It would be a brief, maybe awkward moment of exchange. He might ponder it briefly, but he would maintain a composed outward demeanor.

Let me get this straight: Hinata asked Komaeda to remove his clothing, yet you believe Komaeda is being inappropriate for accepting the offer? Shouldn't we be questioning why Hinata is asking for such a personal thing to begin with? He isn't even diverted after Komaeda's acceptance; his ending question sounds more curious and even prompting. Komaeda's response isn't self-absorbed in any way; he is just being open and casual about it. Honestly, he probably doesn't care if Hinata sees him nude—they're both guys, and he feels comfortable around him. Furthermore, Hinata didn't even initiate the question under the guise of it being for swimming; Komaeda is the one who assumed it was for swimming. Also, being nude isn't inherently sexual, and Japan has nude public hot baths known as onsens.

Izuru isn't controlling Hinata's mind. The Kamukura Project was an unethical human experimentation aimed at achieving the Ultimate Hope through implanting artificial talents. These talents were studied from students attending Hope's Peak Academy. This same academy developed the Reserve Course Department, a tuition school for the talentless to attend, both as funding for the project and to have the students be lab rats. It was an invasive set of neurosurgeries aimed at manipulating and enhancing cognitive functions through the repression of existing memories, emotions, and personality traits in order to mold the Ultimate Hope.

Kamukura is Hinata; he was renamed by the researchers, and the name originated from the founder of Hope's Peak Academy. Komaeda didn't know Hinata prior to the Kamukura Project, and even then, he was unaware of who Kamukura was outside of potentially knowing he was part of human experimentation. Kamukura reacts in self-defense within the context of this scene. He is removing Komaeda's weapon because Komaeda aimed the gun at his face. Grabbing his waist wasn't unintentional; he is the Ultimate Analyst who works within the confines of logistics to pursue conclusions and reactions. He probably grabbed his waist to prevent him from stepping away while removing his gun.

Oh thank god, I thought we were going in reverse, and I was never going to escape this thread.

Hey, remember when I said I would get back to the whole crush thing?

Komaeda does display behaviors associated with having a crush. A crush is defined as a neurological response where neurochemicals coincide to develop physical responses. These neurochemicals travel through neurotransmitters and typically include dopamine, norepinephrine, oxytocin, and serotonin. Neurotransmitters transport chemicals between neurons, muscles, and glands, processing all bodily information like movements and sensations.

Dopamine is a hormone responsible for gratification, through satisfaction and motivation.

Norepinephrine acts as both a hormone and a neurotransmitter and is responsible for the body's ability to recognize stress and concentration.

Oxytocin is a primary hormone for the reproductive system.

Serotonin is both a hormone and neurotransmitter responsible for happiness.

A crush is developed based on a variety of triggers, ranging from physical attractiveness, close proximity, and reciprocity. Reciprocity is the act of mutual understanding through reciprocating attractions or exchange of support. There are a multitude of physical, behavioral, and emotional responses. Komaeda growing flushed and heavily breathing are common physical reactions to having a crush. Whether it was Kamukura's affiliation with hope, their close proximity, or Kamukura's appearance, Komaeda in this moment potentially could have gotten flustered by him. As we later see, he reaches out for him.

This equally could be a misunderstanding, with Komaeda reacting indecorously to suddenly being shot due to his desensitization to violence. His childhood was swarmed in violence, from being on the plane with his parents during their gruesome death and the plane crashing, to being kidnapped by a serial killer who potentially harmed him before stuffing him into a trash bag, and the aforementioned people who were indirectly harmed by his luck. Also, he fell over because the shot launched him back.

(I reached the photo limit. This is the last one guys.) Thank you for reading.

[father-in-lawliet]

i keep seeing pictures of people depicting what they thought light and i did when we had to sleep during the yotsuba case. i think they're amusing simply because of what i have in my own memories. and i thought it'd be even more amusing if i just drew a diagram:

[rystiel]

so like in college do u think ford always goes home for winter break…? he wanted to get away from home so bad, would he even want to spend the holidays there? if he decides not to, do u think fidd ever invites him to spend the holidays with his family instead? he asks ford how he usually celebrates hanukkah and tells his family they’ll be adding to their holiday plans this year?

[thatonebipotato]

Bernard definitely "knows a guy"

idk what situation he would need a guy for, but i feel like it wouldn't really matter. His life is just such a collection of weird situations, and he always just happens to know a guy because of it

Did he meet them through some weird online conspiracy boards? Did he meet them through the cult? Did he just extrovert really close to the sun and get away with it? Has this exact situation just happened so many times that he just knows the person he needs at this point? Honestly, he doesn't even know anymore

You know what he DOES know? A guy

[here-comes-the-moose]

Sorting The Bad Batch By Which Side Of My Family They Would Most Fit In With

My mom’s side- Wrecker, Tech, Omega

My dad’s side- Hunter and Crosshair

Both- Echo

[phosphorus-noodles]

i need you guys to do me a favor and kill me before i make a luca au

[atopvisenyashill]

do love how this is an asoiaf blog but i did not put either show in my top 10 this is the world we live in

[sskk-manifesto]

\\

[therealslimshady]

of all the side characters in the skin stealer's son, the weaponsmith is my absolute favorite. She's all caught up in keeping her people safe after they've been enslaved for generations and then in waltzes the world's shadiest boy, about to wreck havoc across the heldlands and expedite all her plans by several decades

[mxdotpng]

best part abt having an ff14 oc is creating side content for ur wol's character development, completely unrelated to the msq going on

[skrunksthatwunk]

yesterday i was talking with my friend who reads a lotta kindle unlimited het romance novels (ok girl live your truth) and apparently the sports romance market is like 80% about hockey players and she was like "I wonder why that is" and i, a little too fast and a little too loud, went

oh it's the violence for sure

and then had to pretend that was a conclusion i came to from a place of cold impersonal logic and worldly wisdom and not literally anything having to do with me as a person

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW

contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.

“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”

satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.

two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.

“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”

“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone. 

the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.

“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”

you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”

“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”

“ugh, fine.”

two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.

“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”

satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”

“you’re not smooth.”

“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”

“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”

satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.

“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”

anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.

“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.

“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”

“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically. 

satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

“what, we were just talki—”

“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short. 

“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.

“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.

“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.

he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”

“what?” you decide to humor him.

satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.

“this.” 

and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties. 

“gojo, what the—”

“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.

in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.

what a shame.

satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks. 

“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.

you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.

“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”

“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”

that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.

you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you. 

“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below. 

you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him. 

sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth. 

“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.

“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.

satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling. 

“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.

still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.

“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”

“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible. 

“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear. 

satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”

you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”

“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer. 

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.

“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”

from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.

“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”

you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”

satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”

“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.

“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”

satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”

“you’re an asshole.”

before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states. 

“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump. 

suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”

“heh, no, not yet.”

ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 

“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.

well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!

[sematarygirls]

        BOYFRIEND!RAFE x ANXIOUS!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ protected p in v, oral (f! receiving), established relationship, loss of virginity, reader and rafe being dorks, slow sex, these bitches do not shut up, reader is very insecure about her body and of course, has anxiety

NOTES .ᐟ this is representation for all my anxious and insecure girlies who giggle and blurt out random stuff when they're nervous (aka me)

You and Rafe were both on his bed making out, him laying underneath you as you straddled his waist—his idea, of course, citing that it would be more comfortable for both of you that way. "You better just have something in your pocket," you jokingly mumbled against his lips, feeling something distinctly hard and suspiciously close to his dick pressing against you.

You had a tendency to make a lot of dumb jokes and laugh when you were nervous, blurting out whatever came to mind before you could decide against it, which was ironic since overthinking was a second nature to you. You were shy and got nervous a lot, especially around Rafe. He was your first boyfriend and the hottest guy you'd ever laid your eyes on, neither of which helping your nerves.

Rafe's hands slipped under your shirt to touch your bare skin, holding you firmly on his lap. "Wouldn't you like to know," his smirk was teasing as he pulled back from the kiss to peer up at you.

"Uh, yeah, that's kind of the whole point of asking," you also pulled back, sitting up as you smiled down at him. You liked it when Rafe went along with your stupid jokes, bantering with you to put you at ease. He never made you feel weird or awkward for using humor to cope with your anxiety.

"Well, if you must know, I'm packing heat," Rafe quipped with a mischievous grin, his grip on your hips tightening.

You gasped exageratedly, feigning shock. "You have a gun?" You knew very well what he meant, but when did that ever stop you from saying something stupid?

He snorted, his blue eyes shining with amusement. "Yeah, I have a gun in my pants because that makes so much sense," he replied sarcastically, finding your nervous humor endearing.

"Okay, Mr. Sassypants," you rolled your eyes playfully, your palms resting on his chest as a smile pulled at your lips.

"Mr. Sassypants?" Rafe repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You know, that's not a very nice thing to call your loving, patient, and amazingly sexy boyfriend."

"Well, I can't help that my loving, patient, and amazingly sexy boyfriend is such a diva," you grinned, feeling his chest rise and fall, his heart beating steadily under your fingertips.

"Diva?" He gasped in mock offense, his hands sliding up your sides. "I'll show you a diva." In one swift motion, he flipped your positions, pinning you beneath him.

You laughed, looking up at him with a smile despite the anxiety gnawing at you. He had a way of putting your mind at ease with just one look, and the soothing circles he was rubbing on your skin were definitely helping. He stared back at you, his gaze softening. He loved your smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed. Truthfully, he loved everything about you, even your innate ability to make everything a tad bit awkward.

His eyes searched yours intently, searching for any signs that you wanted him to stop. Noticing his serious turn of demeanor and his intense gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up. "Oh, cmon, don't get all serious on me now," you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I take my role as your boyfriend very seriously," he grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck. "And, it wouldn't be very boyfriendly of me to let you go on without knowing the wonders of sex."

"Oh, right, of course, it would be for my benefit," you giggled, your heart racing at the idea of being intimate with him. You weren't exactly against the idea, but you were still a virgin, and the idea of being with someone like that was undoubtedly nerve-racking.

You could feel Rafe smile against your skin, his hands sliding farther up your sides. "Uh huh, always thinking of what's best for my girl."

"Wow, who knew you were so selfless?" You giggled, biting your lip as he nipped as your skin. Your fingers slotted into his hair as he continued to kiss and suck at your neck, his hot breath fanning against your heated skin.

"I'm a saint, what can I say?" He mumbled, his tone teasing. He was being careful, trying to reassure you without actually saying anything because he knew you'd prefer to keep things as lighthearted as possible to make you forget about how serious the moment actually was. He could tell you were nervous, and he was determined to make you as comfortable as possible.

"Uh huh, a saint," you smiled as he slowly, tentatively pushed your shirt up your body. He was giving you time to tell him to stop, maybe even slap him if you wanted to, but you didn't. As much as you felt like you were going to die on the spot at the idea of him seeing you naked, you trusted him, and you wanted this.

"I am but a humble servant of my sexy girlfriend," he pulled back from your neck to search your eyes again, pausing for a moment before your shirt revealed your bra. You gave him a small nod, and he smiled, tugging the shirt over your head as you leaned up a little and lifted your arms to help him. He threw the shirt aside, eyes roaming your skin, as if memorizing every detail. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed out.

"Shut up," you said bashfully, your heart beating faster under his intense gaze. There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that you weren't pretty enough for him, that he would hate how you looked, and that was why you preferred to fill the silence with easy jokes and stupid quips. It made it easier to silence that nagging part of you that thought you weren't good enough for him.

"No, I mean it," he insisted, his fingers slowly tracing the lace edging of your bra. "You're like, way too pretty to be real. I mean, look at you." There was a sincerity to his words that he couldn't fake, an edge of awe and pure unbridled devotion that made your head spin.

The way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way he touched you like he worshipped every inch of you—it was all overwhelming in the best possible way. It had you scrambling in your mind to say something, anything, even if that something was a dumb dick joke.

"I bet you're thinking about saying something stupid, aren't you?" he asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he leaned down to pepper kisses over your collarbones and down the swell of your cleavage.

"I never say anything stupid," you breathed out, as he kissed the skin that wasn't hidden behind your bra. It made your heart flutter that he knew you so well, but it also made you realize how awfully predictable you were.

"Uh huh and I'm the Queen of England," he retorted sarcastically, reaching up to slide one of your bra straps down your shoulder, kissing the bare sliver of skin that was revealed.

"Oh my God, you are?" You gasped, his remark loading you with the perfect ammunition to say something stupid. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness."

"Mmm, flattery will get you everywhere," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to kiss and touch you, slipping your other strap off. He slowly unhooked your bra, his eyes meeting yours as he paused, asking for silent permission. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously before nodding.

He pulled your bra off almost instantly, his gaze sweeping over your bare chest. You felt so vulnerable beneath his gaze, resisting the urge to cover yourself. "Okay, your turn, pretty boy," you swiftly said, trying to ease your nerves and figuring you might be a little more comfortable if you weren't the only half-naked one.

"Yes, ma'am," He smirked, leaning back to pull his own shirt off, revealing his muscular chest. You couldn't help but stare, eyes roaming over his abs and the way his muscles flexed as he tossed his shirt aside. He settled back over you, his hands sliding up your sides. "Better?"

"You are annoyingly hot," you huffed, finding it completely unfair that someone as perfect as him could even exist, let alone be on top of you right now.

"Aw, you're just saying that because you want in my pants," he teased, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. "But I can't blame you, I am pretty irresistible." He leaned down, swallowing the small gasp you let out at his touch as he captured your mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

"That's slander," you mumbled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his hair as you pulled him closer.

"Mmm, then sue me," he murmured against your lips before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, slowly making his way to your chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. He was ridiculously skilled with his mouth, knowing exactly how and where to kiss you to drive you crazy. "Yknow what, maybe I will," you retorted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling a little faster.

"I think we can come to some sort of settlement out of court," He paused, his hot breath washing over your skin before he slowly, deliberately wrapped his lips around one of your peaks, swirling his tongue around it. "What do you think?"

Your lips parted at the feeling, intaking a sharp breath of air. "Uh, yeah, yknow that could work maybe," you grinned, your fingers gently tugging at his hair as he ravished your tits with attention.

"Mmm, I thought it might," he hummed with a cocky grin, switching to give equal attention to your other breast, your back arching ever so slightly, urging him closer. He smirked against your skin, making his way lower and leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. His hands slid down your sides to your hips, fingers curling around the waistband of your pants.

"Hey, wait, I don't want to be naked first," you protested, only half joking. You would rather die than be fully naked in front of him while he sits there with his clothes on.

"Oh, trust me, I have no intention of leaving my pants on any longer than necessary," He assured you with a mischievous grin, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

"Yeah, 'cause you're a freak," you grinned, moving on to the making fun of your boyfriend portion of the program in an attempt to soothe the pit of nausea in your stomach. You were kind of scared, not that you wanted to be lame and admit that.

"Hey, I resent that," He protested, but his tone conveyed the opposite message as he tugged your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth, expert motion, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm just enthusiastic, that's all."

"Enthusiastically a whore," you snorted, letting your head fall back, staring at the ceiling. You'd really rather not see yourself naked right now, not with the amount of anxiety already coursing through your veins. You did not need a reminder of what Rafe was seeing.

"Whore?" He teased, his fingers dancing along your inner thighs. "I think you mean an amazing boyfriend who loves you and wants to make you feel good."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I mean whore," you grinned, reluctantly looking down at him despite yourself.

"Well, this whore is about to rock your world," He smirked, slowly trailing kisses up your inner thigh, gripping your hips. "Just relax and let me do all the work." His voice was low and seductive, his intentions clear.

"You're such an idiot," you laughed at his cheesy choice of words, a little nervous that the witty banter would have to be put on hold. He can't exactly respond to your sarcastic remarks with his mouth occupied.

He hummed, his breath hot against your core. Your breathing picked up, and you were unsure whether it was anticipation or if you were on the verge of a panic attack.

He slowly dragged his tongue along your slit, groaning at your taste on his tongue and the subsequent gasp that fell from your lips, making his painfully hard cock twitch in his jeans. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart and opening you up to him. He had dreamed of this moment, imagined this exact scenario about a half a dozen times as he got himself off, and now that it was actually happening, he was going to relish every moment.

He began to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue delving deep inside your tight heat, familiarizing himself with every inch of you. His nose nudged at your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that pulled a low whine from your throat. Your fingers threaded into his hair, moaning at the unfamiliar pleasure.

His fingers replaced his tongue, his mouth moving up to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking it into his mouth, determined to send you over the edge. He pushed his fingers deep inside and curled them, finding that spot that made your back arch and your hips buck against his mouth.

"Rafe," his name left your lips a breathy whimper as your head fell back against his pillows. Rafe was no stranger to having women under him, writhing and moaning his name, but something about it being you made him crazy. It took all his self-control not to blow his load in his pants right there and then.

He redoubled his efforts, eager to make you cum, rubbing that sweet spot inside you with ruthless precision and sucking on your clit, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub. Another moan fell from your lips, your grip on his hair bordering on painful as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your legs practically shaking at the intense pleasure.

He groaned as he felt you spasm around his fingers, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. He slowly pulled away, grinning as he took in your dazed expression. He carefully slipped his fingers from your quivering hole, bringing them to his mouth. He couldn't help the moan that rumbled low in his throat as he tasted you on his tongue. God, you were perfect.

His eyes flicked up to yours as his tongue darted out to lick his lips clean. "Good, huh?" He asked, his tone smug. He knew it had been good, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm gonna slap that stupid look off your face," you playfully rolled your eyes, your skin practically burning up with embarrassment.

"I think that would take our case from a civil lawsuit to a criminal assault charge," he grinned, calling back to your previous joke about taking him to court. He positioned himself over you again to press his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"It's my first offense and a misdemeanor," you mumbled into the kiss, cupping his face. "Worst I'll get is a fine, so... totally worth it."

"Okay, smartass," he pulled away, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, gazing down at you lovingly.

"Just saying," you smiled softly up at him, his hair falling into his face and his blue eyes sparkling. He really loved you, and it was evident just from the way he looked at you. He'd never felt anything like it before. He loved you so much it terrified him.

But, of course, you had to ruin the moment of peace because shutting up was not something you were wired to do, especially not in the face of such charged silence. "Your little friend is poking me again," you blurted out the words before you could stop yourself. Little friend? You really couldn't have come up with anything else?

Rafe couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he rocked his hips against you, making you gasp softly. "He's just happy to see you." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned down at you, his fingers absently tracing along your side.

"Okay, well, can you tell him I don't really know him like that, so maybe he should calm down a little bit," you couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but you loved it, and you loved him. He understood you in a way you never thought you'd be understood by anyone.

"He says he's not planning on staying a stranger for much longer," he smirked, his hips rolling against yours.

"This is actually so stupid," you giggled, your hand covering your mouth as you laughed beneath him.

"Oh, now it's stupid?" He rolled his eyes, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "You're the one who started it."

"Shut up," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "Okay, okay, you can... start now, I guess," you said awkwardly. There was only so long that you could stall with stupid dick jokes. Besides, you felt a little bad that he had been so patient and undoubtedly, extremely hard.

"About time," he murmured with faux annoyance, his voice low as he fiddled with his belt buckle and pulled it through the loops, tossing it aside before popping the button on his jeans and slowly unzipping them.

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your nerves as the sound of him pulling his jeans off seemed to echo through the room. You wanted this. You knew you did, but you couldn't help the pit of fear in your stomach.

He paused, feeling your body tense beneath him as you took a deep breath, a sign he knew all too well. "Hey, look at me," he coaxed softly, cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can wait if you're not ready. Just tell me to stop, and I will, no questions asked, no hard feelings. We can just forget all about it," he reassured you.

Your heart fluttered as you heard your boyfriend's words, meeting his gaze and seeing the sincerity behind his eyes. "No, I- I want to. I'm just... scared, yknow," you bit your lip nervously, mentally kicking yourself. You always seemed to be scared. There probably wasn't a single thing in the world that you weren't scared of.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, pressing gentle kisses to your face, your neck, your collarbone—anywhere he could reach. "There's nothing wrong with being scared. It's your first time. If you weren't scared, that would be a little concerning."

You laughed softly at his words. "You just make sure you wrap it up. I don't know where you've been," you joked. "Safe sex is great sex as the Lil Wayne once wisely said."

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Lil Wayne, huh? I didn't know he moonlighted as a sex ed teacher." He reached into his bedside table, pulling out a foil packet and waving it in front of your face. "But don't worry, I'm always prepared."

"Jesus, that's a lot of condoms," you said, peering into his drawer and seeing way more condoms than you realistically thought one person would need. "You are a whore of massive proportions. Like, literally a menace to the female population."

"Oh, hush," he grinned, tearing open the packet and rolling the latex down over his length. "I bought them in bulk. You know, for... emergencies," He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning back down to press kisses to your skin once more.

"Eugh," you giggled, your face scrunching up in disgust. "I genuinely do not want to know what a sex emergency is."

"Hey, a guy's gotta be prepared, okay?" He murmured against your neck, his breath warm. "Now, are you going to keep talking, or are you going to let me kiss you and calm you the hell down?"

"Yo, I am literally so calm," you rolled your eyes, lying through your teeth in the name of comedy and also not sounding like the total little loser virgin you were. "So calm and so chill. Literally have never been calmer or chiller in my life."

"Uh-huh," he hummed, clearly unconvinced as he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, his fingers slowly trailing down your side, his touch gentle. "Because nothing says 'calm and chill' like sex jokes and rambling like you're on speed."

"Well, I can't help that I'm the funniest person alive," you argued, the realization dawning on you that you were naked, and he was naked, which meant there was only so many more sex jokes you could make before the sex actually commenced.

"You're not even in the top five funniest people I know," he teased, his fingers reaching your hip as he slowly pulled you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

"Oh, you got jokes, huh?" You grinned, nervously giggling when you felt his tip nudge at your entrance. "You better take that back if you wanna get laid tonight."

"I think I'll stick with my original statement," he said, his voice low and husky as he pressed forward, the head of his dick pushing into you slowly as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip. "You're just not funny enough to make the cut, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing at the painful sensation. You grabbed his bicep for support, digging your nails into his arm. "Liar," you joked weakly, your chest heaving as you breathed through the intrusion.

"Shh, just breathe," he whispered against your neck, his voice low and soothing as he paused, letting you adjust to the foreign feeling. "You're doing so good, baby. You're taking it like a champ."

"Okay, don't call me champ while you're inside me," you grimaced, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted as you slowly adjusted to having him inside you.

"You okay, baby?" He asked softly, pushing the slightest bit further into you as he examined your reaction closely.

"Oh, yeah, just peachy," you said sarcastically. The pain was gradually starting to fade, making the whole thing more enjoyable by the second. Though, the pressure between your thighs was intense.

"Mhm, you're a real ray of sunshine," he chuckled softly, pushing the rest of the way into you, his body shuddering as he bottomed out. He was as deep as he could go, his hips flush against yours.

You gasped as he pressed all the way into you, your grip on his bicep tightening. "You're gonna look like you got mauled by a lion after this," you panted out, apologetic for the involuntary response.

"I'd wear that badge of honor proudly," he said, his voice thick with amusement as he slowly began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a gentle, soothing rhythm. "Now, shut up and let me make love to you."

"Don't say 'make love' either. That's so gross," you giggled softly, a breathy moan falling from your lips as he set a slow, pleasurable pace.

"Then what would you prefer I call it?" He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued his steady movements, the friction building between your bodies. "'Coitus'? 'Intercourse'? 'Fucking'?" He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows and brows pinching in pleasure. Okay, you were definitely starting to see what all the fuss was about. "Let's just not refer to what's happening right now as anything at all."

"Mhm, I can work with that," he hummed, his pace picking up slightly as he felt you start to relax more, your body welcoming his thrusts. "Just focus on how good it feels, baby. Let me take care of you."

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply as he continued to fuck you with a pace that demonstrated his love and devotion to you. He never thought he would be one for slow, romantic sex, but he didn't think he was into a lot of things before he met you. You had a way of making him discover things about himself he was completely clueless to.

As he kissed you, he slowly shifted his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that particularly sensitive spot inside you. He felt you tense up, a sharp gasp escaping your lips into the kiss, and he smiled against your mouth. "You like that, huh?"

"You're such an ass," you grinned, your fingers curling into his hair, back arching into him as his tip continued to hit that spongy spot inside you, the pressure low in your abdomen building.

"Maybe so, but you love it," he smirked against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he increased his pace, his hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. "And you're gonna come for me again, baby. Aren't you?"

Your mouth fell open in pleasure, your breath hot against his lips. "uh huh," you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut. He was a cocky motherfucker, but he was hot and he put up with your shit, so it was only fair you put up with his in return.

"That's my girl," he purred, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles on your clit as he continued his relentless pace. "Come on, baby. Let me feel you. I want to watch you fall apart for me."

You gasped sharply at the added stimulation, his name leaving your lips in a whine as you tensed around him, sent over the edge for the second time.

He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, the sensation of you practically choking his dick sending him into his own release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he panted, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into the condom with a low moan of your name.

Your walls pulsed around him as you slowly came down from your high, relaxing into the mattress. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your whole body on fire and coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

He collapsed on top of you with a satisfied hum, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone as he softened inside you. "I love you, you know that?"

"Good 'cause otherwise this would be pretty awkward," you laughed breathlessly, gently raking your nails over his scalp soothingly. "But, seriously, I love you too," you added quietly after a beat of silence.

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