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jenoslutie · 6 days ago

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is it casual? l l.dh (m)

❥ Synopsis: Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are laboured, or even the way sex with him felt... too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual.

❥ Genre: Toxic FWB!Donghyuck, smut, friends with benefits au, he is toxic.

❥ Warnings: toxicity, reader is a little dumb, explicit smut scenes, recording during sex (consensually), reader x chenle for a second, reader flirts with hyuck's cousin for a second, fucking while family is in the other room, car sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, i cant think of anything else tbh!!

❥ Word count: 3.3K

❥ a/n: hi guys :D i apologize if this is some hot garbage LMAO not my proudest fic (especially the rushed ass ending) BUT! i did want to get it done and over with soooo here you go. Hope you enjoy it!! :D

Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual.

Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are labored, or the way sex with him felt too intimate. Nothing about it was casual.

But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual.

“Oh Y/N? We just fuck sometimes” A lie. The same lie he says every time his friends ask about the two of you. Not a single one of them believes him. Not Renjun, not Jaemin, not Jeno. Hell, not even Mark, his best friend, believed him.

“You don’t just bring anyone around to meet your mother, Haechan” Mark stated, the rest of the group agreeing with him.

Haechan groans in protest, rolling his eyes, leaving the rest of his roommates on the couch and heading over to his room.

hyuck: hey hyuck: come see me. i miss ur pussy.

you: wtf?? you: where's the decorum?? what happened to hi?? hello?? how was your day??

hyuck: you can tell me all about that after i finally get my mouth on your pretty pussy hyuck: come over

And who were you to deny anything Donghyuck asked you? Because within 30 minutes you were outside his apartment, ringing his doorbell and waiting for him to let you in. The door opens and there stands Donghyuck in all his glory. Donghyuck is no doubt an attractive man. Well, he wasn’t just attractive. He was ethereal. You could tell he was carefully sculpted by God himself.

Upon walking in, you were met by the disappointed faces of his four roommates. You gave them a small smile in greeting, your smile was not a genuine one, anyone could tell it was forced, as was their smile in return. The boys loved having you around but they knew the intentions of their friend. They knew he treated you like way more than a fuckbuddy but wanted less than even fuckbuddies. You were left with no option but to shift your eyes down in shame, you followed him to his all too familiar room. One that you’d been in more than you’d ever like to admit.

And just like that, before you knew it, you were in Lee Donghyuck’s bed once again.

“You know Donghyuck is just keeping you around to fuck right?” Chenle suddenly blurted out. You had to cancel on Donghyuck to meet up with Chenle for your little brunch date and to say the least, Donghyuck was not that happy about it. You’re ditching him? For another man? Though the other man was your best friend who had absolutely no feelings whatsoever for you (and vice versa), it was enough for you to have an almost hour long call with Donghyuck prior to meeting up with Chenle that was full of arguing and Donghyuck claiming you cannot ditch him for Chenle.

Which you did.

Though it didn’t last long because right after you left the brunch spot, you found yourself driving over to none other than Donghyuck’s house.

“I missed you you know” He all but cooed, letting yet another lie slip from his lips. He was always the one who went M.I.A after everytime you hooked up until he wanted to hook up again.

No response.

“Baby?”

No response.

“Cmon, Why do you avoid me so much hmm?” You? Avoid Him?

“I don’t” you huffed, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a fuck about me unless it involves my pussy”

“That’s not true..” He countered, “I also give a fuck if it involves your tits, and that pretty mouth of yours” You rolled your eyes at him, choosing to ignore his comment. He didn’t urge you either, only pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you.

“You know you missed me, didn’t you?” As embarrassing as it was to admit, you did miss him. In the few days you tried to go no contact with him. It was near impossible to get him out of your thoughts.

And here you were, giving yourself to him once again.

So much for ‘I only want you’

Your jaw dropped in shock watching Donghyuck sitting on the couch at a party with some random girl straddling him while the two of them made out like they practically needed each other to breathe. Which if it was the case, you wouldn't be surprised.

“Didn’t he literally just tell me he only wants me when he was cumming inside of me yesterday?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that,” Chenle grimaced.

“Well! That’s besides the point. The point is, he told me he only wants me now his tongue is down another girl’s throat!” You groaned in frustration. You don't think you’d ever understand his intentions. Sure the sex was good, you enjoyed Haechan’s company more than most people you know but still. You were sick of the mixed signals, did he want you or did he just want you naked and in his bed? Most likely the latter.

Watching him make out with the girl with no care in the world for you, made a lightbulb spark inside your head. “Why don’t we kiss?” you suggest hopefully.

And you dont think you’ve ever heard a more vile sound leave Chenle’s mouth before.

“My lips are not touching yours. Who knows where they’ve been” You rolled your eyes at him, pursing your lips playfully. “You know my lips are clean, Chenle.”

“I don’t know about that. But…okay, let’s do it” His tone was incredulous, like he didn’t believe your lips were clean? Where the fuck else would they be? Ignoring his backhanded comment., you dragged him closer to where Hyuck was, with the girl still on his lap. It’s almost like he had completely forgotten about you. You’ve been watching him kiss the girl like he kisses you, touch her like he touches you, whisper in her ear like he does to you when he’s telling you all the nasty things he wants to do to you and it makes you sick.

Without thinking any further, you pull Chenle in by the collar of his dress shirt and he clutches your chin, pulling you closer to him, warm tongue slipping between your lips and exploring the warmth of your mouth. Fighting the urge to moan into Chenle’s mouth, you decided to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a little every so often. Chenle however wasn’t trying to hide anything, he was groaning into your mouth everytime you tugged on his hair. It was a kiss so intense, anyone would look at you and think you two are either hooking up or lovers. The two of you get too caught up in your kiss to notice Hyuck had stopped kissing the new girl and was now boring holes into both of your skulls.

If there's one person that got on his nerves it was Chenle, he hated the way the two of you were so close but told everyone you’re ‘only friends’. So much for ‘only friends’ when the two of you were basically down each other's throats now. The intensity of the kiss fogged both of your brains to the point you forgot the real reason you were kissing him in the first place. Too distracted to even notice Hyuck approach the two of you in the corner you were in, forcing Chenle off you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hyuck’s eyes were wide and full of rage, your jaw dropped, what the fuck did he mean?

“Why are you kissing him?” His words came out bitter, venom laced in his tone. He was pissed at the sight of you with another man. As if he wasn’t under another woman less than a minute ago. You gave him nothing but silence. Not a smart option, you decide. You catch Chenle snickering out the corner of your eye, distancing himself from the scene.

And that's how you found yourself in Hyuck’s car, your dress lost somewhere in the backseat minutes before Hyuck’s seat tipped back, and you climbed over the center console to sit on his face. Sure the position wasn’t the most comfortable but the way he was eating you out, like he’d lose his breath if he stopped, you were far from complaining. His tongue on you makes you see stars to the point you’d almost forget that the same tongue was down a different girl’s throat less than 30 minutes ago.

“God, Hyuck you’re so good,” You cried, leaning all the way over to stabilize yourself by grabbing onto the headrest of the backseat. The man under you only hummed in response, sucking your clit harder, forcing another loud moan out from you. Before long, you feel your stomach tightening as your climax approaches, and you whimper in warning, Haechan, knowing your body too well, picking up on your cue immediately and diving into your core with an eagerness that has you seeing stars. With no more than a sharp suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a loud cry, your body jerking before you attempt to curl in on yourself.

“Fuck, can you ride me baby?” His voice came out strained, you obediently shimmied into Hyuck’s lap, and without thinking twice, you lined yourself up with his cock. He was clearly tired of the lack of attention on him that the second his tip had slid into your pussy he had pushed you all the way down onto him, forcing himself to fill you to the brink.

You cried out in surprise, a small stretch coursing through your body that Hyuck did not give you much time to adjust to. Immediately, he grabbed your hips and began to forcefully raise you up and down the length of his cock. You whined, your body writhing in pleasure and all you could do was keep your face buried in his neck as he forced you up and down on his cock. As much as you hated this situation you had going on with him, moments like this made you realize how hard it would be to let it go.

Moments where he made you feel wanted.

Moments where he made you feel desired.

Those are what always got you coming back into his trap.

You don’t know why the hell you agreed to it, but here you were, in Donghyuck’s parent’s house for Christmas. As much as you tried to not be in the spotlight, since you were a new face, you happened to be the center of attention tonight and it was overwhelming. And you realize you’re not even sure why he invited you to his family’s Christmas celebration.

Watching his younger siblings run around you and ask all sorts of questions like “Why are you friends with my brother? You are too pretty for him!” The two gremlins, both resembling Donghyuck to the T, had been jumping all over you the whole night. You could see where Donghyuck got his personality from. His outgoing nature rooted from his father who might have been the life of the party, his everlasting need to argue about little things rooting from his mother, you could tell by the way you watched the two of them squabble all throughout the night. And obviously, all that chaos combined together and graced Donghyuck and his parents with who they call the two gremlins.

Deciding to go on this trip back to his hometown was not an easy decision, him spending numerous nights convincing you that you’ll love it there. You remember one specific night where he whined and groaned over the phone about you declining the offer, “You’ll love them!” He offered. “Plus, It's not like you’re doing anything else on christmas! You just told me” It was pretty clear he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And there was no way you could deny his offer at that point so you just sighed and agreed to go along.

“You know, they like you alot more than I thought they would,” He mused. He’d been quietly observing his family’s every interaction with you and to say he was impressed was an understatement. His family was normally really inviting for all his friends, but this time, it was different?

What he didn’t expect was his cousin, Beomgyu, to show up. He would be the first to admit that Beomgyu was attractive, there was no denying that. Growing up, Beomgyu would get all the girls and would outshine Donghyuck in all aspects. Which was one of the reasons why Donghyuck loathed him.

Donghyuck gritted his teeth as he opened the door, “Beomgyu.”

“Donghyuck.” His cousin smirked, stepping aside to greet the rest of the family. Donghyuck’s entire family was very fond of Beomgyu, they treated him as one of their own though they knew the hatred their actual son had towards him. What he did not expect more than the sudden appearance of his worst enemy was, the worst enemy in question to be flirting with you not even ten minutes into his arrival. But what pissed him off the most was the fact you were flirting back.

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what he wants.

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what’s his.

He watched. Watched for so long while you sat at the dinner table and chatted it up with Beomgyu who was spilling compliment after compliment to you.

hyuck: meet me in the bathroom.

hyuck: now.

In an instant, you were dismissing Beomgyu and following Donghyuck down the hall and into the nearest bathroom.

“What the fuck was that?” He spat, pushing you up against the door. “You think you can just flirt with my fucking cousin?” He took a fistful of your hair, using it to tilt your head up, your lust filled eyes peering up at him innocently. “You don’t get to choose who I flirt with, Donghyuck.” he hated that stupid smirk on your lips, an hour with Beomgyu made you what? A brat? His eyebrows raised, sporting a smirk of his own at your bratty tone.

“Okay. If you want to be a brat, I have a great way to put them in their place.” His grin was evil. Your own face dropping when he tugs on your hair again. “Tell me huh? You want to be put in your place while my fucking family is right there? Hearing every little noise of yours while I slut you out in this bathroom?” You shook your head no, “No! I swear, I’ll be good. Don’t want your parents to hear us!” You were given nothing but silence, followed by a dark chuckle from Donghyuck himself.

“Yes, you do,” he teases. You only whined in response. “Like I give a fuck when you were out there moments away from slutting yourself out to that fucker.” He laughed sadistically when your only response was a whimper.

‘You’re too easy’ He thought.

“You know that you’re mine, right?” His tone was harsh. You quickly nodded your head ‘yes’, knowing that even a second’s delay would piss him off now. Instead of a direct response, like you wished, all you got was a chuckle and a little “Sure you are,”

Donghyuck freed his cock from the confines of his pants and you bent forward, resting on your elbows, presenting your ass for him. “What a pretty girl.” He sucks in air, slapping his hand down on your ass. He aligns himself with your wet pussy, your fingers gripping onto the ceramic sink. He fills you completely, arching your back deeper to bury himself all the way inside you.

“Taking me so well. It’s like you were made for me” he groans, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” You moaned in response, thrusting back against him.

“You wanna prove you’re mine?”

“Please”

You heard him shuffle around momentarily before he propped his phone up against the bathroom sink. The camera app was open and it was recording. “Go on,” He emphasized his words with a sharp thrust, “Say that you’re mine” You forced your eyes open and looked directly into the camera. “You’re mine forever, aren't you?”

“I’m Yours, Donghyuck” You caught a glimpse at your reflection and you looked wrecked. Mascara started to run down your cheeks, hair knotted and a mess from the way he'd been pulling it earlier and your cheeks warm. You knew you couldn’t go back out to his family like this but that was the least of your concerns right now. All you could think of was Donghyuck and how he just hinted at forever. Forever with him.

“I’m yours forever. All of me is yours, I'm all yours Hyuck.” You watched his smirk grow wider, his hips thrusting into you with far more intensity than before, enough to make your brain go blank. You’d lost all sense of where you were and why. No care in the world for your surroundings had you crying his name out loud. It seemed even he didn't care about how loud you were being because all he did was chuckle and trail his hands down to your core so he could toy with your swollen clit.

“You’re mine forever? That’s what I like to hear.” He ended the video but the camera remained facing your wrecked figure. The more you stared at yourself, the ruined look on your face,the humiliation and the way he was smirking down at you so desperate to cum, made you closer to your release. And accompanied by Hyuck’s ministrations on your clit, you were cumming in no time, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak.

“I’m cumming—fuck—” Haechan grunts. hips pressing into yours as he buries himself deep in you and empties his load. You feel his length twitch inside of you. He gave you both a second to calm down before slowly pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your clothes back into place.

You relished in the thought that you’re Donghyuck’s. He’s yours. You hadn’t seen him since that night at his family’s house and you’d spoken to him maybe twice since. He told you he’s gonna be busy with work in the days upcoming so you decided not to bother him.

Today was his rare day off and he told you he’d stop by to see you but its been three hours since he was supposed to be here and you’re still waiting to see him. He hasn't replied to your texts, answered your calls or even told you he was gonna be running late. You chose to occupy yourself by scrolling through Instagram while you waited.

Immediately, the first story you saw was Mark’s. He’d posted pictures from a party with the text “crazy night last night” You smiled to yourself as you clicked through his story, he posted a number of pictures and videos from that night however one specific video caught your attention.

Donghyuck in the back of it, his honey skin glimmering under the light. You watched the video intently, Donghyuck was kissing this girl with the same passion he kissed you with back on Christmas.

So much for being busy.

Immediately, you called his phone, surprised when he picked up on the first ring.

“What is it, Y/N?” He sighed over the phone

“I saw the video, Donghyuck.”

“Y/N. Remember our rules? We are nothing”

“But I-” You want to say something. Something out of pure rage and heartbreak.

Before he cuts you off, “I don’t owe you anything, I do”

“Fuck, all our rules, Hyuck. Fuck them all. All I want is you. In every way possible. Be mine. Please"

“Just– Move on,” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving you there with a heavy heart and speechless.

Guess it really was just casual.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #kvanity

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1-800-kami · 1 year ago

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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

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jinxthequeergirl · 3 months ago

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The Ol Switcharoo (pt2)

Stan pines x reader /ford pines x reader

Summary: Your family vacation lasted longer than expected. When you return home to Stanford, you realize quickly something wrong.

Warning: NONE

Hey! Just some housekeeping before you read on

☆Thanks for all the love ya'll it means bunches

☆this part is shorter do to me wanting to pace this better, but I hope yall enjoy none the less!

☆a few of ya'll asked to be tagged so I'm starting a tag list if you'd like to be included don't hesitate to ask

☆additionally I did have a Playlist for this specific series and if ya'll would like me to post the songs for it also lemme know

Enjoy!

~~~~~☆~~~~~

"STANLEY HELP!"

Stan felt himself freeze up, his heart race and mind go blank, why couldn't he think? Why couldn't he move?

He watched in horror as his brother floated up backwards through the air into the gaping hole in space and time.

"Do something!"

"What...what do i do!?" He asked meekly, looking around for something to help.he watched as parts of his brother slowly disappeared, and as he reached into his coat pocket and tossed something at him. "Hide my research...CALLL Y/N ANYTHING-"

Stan shielded his eyes as a bright white light filled the room and knocked him back onto the floor. The room was suddenly quiet.

"Ford!?...Ford! Come back!" He wasted no time to get back up and bang on the machine, hoping it would start back up like an old appliance. "Please!"

He raced to the lever a few feet away, desperately pulling and yanking at it, but it didn't budge.

"Stanford!?...Ford!? Are you home yet!?" The small coo of an unfamiliar voice snapped Stan from his nightmare.

"Hello!?" The voice echoed out again. He quickly got up, reaching for his only form of security. A baseball bat.

The voice had gone silent, but he could still hear someone moving he took a long pause, then opened the door swinging his bad.

"FORD WAIT! WAIT, IT'S ME! ITS Y/N!!"

Y/n?

He stopped swinging the bat and stared down at you.

"Call y/n! Anything-"

"Y/n?"

"Yes, it's me, Ford! I haven't been gone that long have i?"

He cleared. "No not at all we have some catching up to do."

You could tell there was something ford...well stan (you'd have to get used to the sudden name change) wanted to tell you while you sat across from him. Like he wanted to give you bad news. But he seemed to be thinking of the right way to put it.

"So..stan...what made you want to change from Ford to stan? Did your family have that much of an impact on you?" You tried to joke to lighten the tension that seemed to linger in the air.

"Well...something like that...listen y/n-"

"Are you OK? You seem...different you seem nervous...more nervous then when I left.." You placed your hand over top of his and offered a reasuring smile.

"I..."

stan didn't know you...he had no right to lie to you. But Ford seemed to trust you and judging from the photo on his desk in the basement, how fondly he seemed to write about you in the journal...the scrapped drawings of you in the garbage you meant a whole lot more to him then stan could understand right now, you must have felt the same way about his brother.

He remembered how worried his brother had been in making sure he understood you were absolutely under no circumstances to not touch the journals or anything pertaining to it again.

"My closest friend y/n and I have been working on this project for months now...I should have listened to her but I didn't...I need you to get rid of this journal she can't be near any of this when she returns."

"Did something happen with the portal?...with that...creature? And what happened to your hands!" You said now, pulling both hands into yours to examine them.

Besides, you already seemed so worried. He couldn't be the one to break the news to you. Not now.

Besides, he had a plan.

Sort of.

So he did what he did best.

Lied.

"Well...uh while you were away, I had a little accident. I had to get surgery...yea surgery, and the accident you know was from the portal...so I said, Forget the whole thing! "

He Tried to say it in a way that would convince even himself.

"Stanford, what do you mean? What happened? Are you just going to give up on everything we worked for?"

"I have to, I just need some time."

Neither of you noticed at first that you were holding hands as you spoke. Stan was the first to notice the closeness. It was the first time in what felt like years that anyone had shown him this kind of affection, let alone the kindness you were demonstrating with your concern.

"I don't know what happened while I was away or when you even had time for something to go wrong or why you would even start working again without me!" He noticed the slight annoyance building up and squeezed your hand.

And you took a breath. "But I understand and I won't pretend to know what happened and if you aren't ready to tell me I can respect that...things got a little rocky between us before I left and I'm really just hoping things can go back to the way they used to be with us. If a longer break and time is what you need... then I am 100% behind your decision."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him at your words. Maybe it wasn't your words but the kind-hearted look in your eyes, or maybe it was the way you still held his hands in yours.

You'd be the first two admit two things about your current situation.

One, Nostalgia was a funny thing. You knew when something was off about your bestfriend, the man infront of you was was a changed man, while his story didn't add up he looked shaken and defeated...after all this was the man you trusted with half your life. And you wouldn't lie, you had clung so desperately to the memories of college and spring through winter, it was that glimmer of hope and a mix of Nostalgia for your good times together that made you believe him.

And two, You always knew better then to trust your heart you and Ford would joke about the idea of following your heart and not your brain, how silly a concept it was that the organ that pumped blood through your body had such a pull on your decision making it made your thought process stop.

Yet here you where.

Following your heart.

"How about a few drinks and I can tell you about my trip?" You offered standing and being the first to break the lock between your hands. "And I can tell you about the plans I have for this place!"

"Plans?"

"Sure! I mean, we aren't doing our science junk anymore, so we need to make money somehow, right?"

You set down two glasses.

"Ok?"

You sat down, you listened to him explain how he had already done a few tours displaying whatever you had already had laying around and how people where eating it up.

"Stanford you've never been one for the gimmicky tricks, you've always cared more about the real deal...WE'VE been about the real deal...why lie to people?"

"Trust me y/n do a tour with me tomorrow try to show the people a real life monster and whatchamacallit and put it up against my made up creature."

You laughed. This wasn't what you had expected Stanford pines to spend his break away from work doing. It was out of character for him. But refreshing somehow.

Just like that, the seasons changed, and it was spring again

You learned quickly people didn't like the truth.

Real monsters and ghouls seemed to only upset or bother people so you and stan collaborated a way to make attractions that seemed real enough but also gimmicky enough that tourists would eventually laugh at it.

You learned pretty quickly that you were not only a pretty crafty person but an excellent storyteller.

You and Stanford seemed to almost pick up where you left off bonding and cracking jokes. It was like he was more confident than when you left him, more relaxed and full of life. You two fit right back into place with eachother with out missing a beat.

It's exactly what you'd been missing.

Soon, you were renovating half the house to be a showroom and giftshop, and soon after you were selling and wearing t shirts, you began putting up a sign. By the following summer, you were basically an operational business.

The mystery shack felt more like a brain child of you and Stanford and you cared for it like such.

It was something fun.

Something that didn't seem to be running Stanford down like the science stuff did. You could see a genuine smile on his face as he showed some local kid the corni-corn.

It was silly. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done something silly and adventurous.

It felt good.

"Another day another dollar y/n my dear." Stan said, flipping the open sign to close and placing his little red fez cap on top of your head.

"Soon enough, we'll have people from all over the place coming to get a piece of the mystery shack." He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, leading you back to the section of the Mystery shack that was still your shared home.

"Yea, we have a real Walt Disney start-up story, don't we stanford." He laughed loudly before suddenly getting serious.

"Listen. I wanted to say thank you for sticking with me through this. It means a lot."

"Of course, stanford." You reached up and planted a small peck on his cheeks. "We've been through everything together. I'm not going to stop now."

You could see stans face flush slightly as you stretched and yawned. "Anyways goodnight stanford."

"Uh yea...goodnight..." You heard him mumble as he touched his cheek where you kissed him.

Things where looking up.

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Tag list!:

@fanficcrow

@slay-thou-pookie

#ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #stan pines x reader #Stanley pines x reader #stanford pines x reader

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localceilingdevil · 1 year ago

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i believe I've posted this to twitter before so hello again to anyone who has seen them there

this is guts. we love guts. he has rabies.

yes this is what he does when he feels threatened. a silly little boogie.

song is garbage wastes - threat

#rain world #rainworld #scug #slugcat #slugcat oc #the yellow #garbage wastes #guts #I did this outside a home depot I'm surprised it popped off BAHAH

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kiame-sama · 6 months ago

Text

28 years (Yandere!Silva x Fem!Reader) series

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, long series, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, yandere, Non-con, dub-con, consensual, adult themes, kidnapping, blood, pregnancy, pregnancy issues, stalking, jealousy, kidnapping (again), unfair situations, forced marriage, forced affection, mostly in chronological order but some fics jump around time wise

I genuinely don't think all of the main fics are here, but I can't find the others, so this is what you get.

Enjoy going down the rabbit hole.

~~~~~~~~

Part 1: NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/676778400942309376/could-i-possibly-request-28-years-the-first-few?source=share

Part 2: NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/189798948166/so-like-father-like-son-silva-would-be-as?source=share

Part 3: pregnancy warning Lime warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/190972274046/one-of-you-lovies-requested-to-know-what-i-think?source=share

Part 4: pregnancy warning NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/647877643963940864/28-years-yanderesilva-x-reader-2nd-pregnancy?source=share

Part 5: NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/615436039301087232/warnings-oral-male-receiving-manipulative?source=share

Part 6: pregnancy warning,

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/619936228378378240/28-years-yanderesilva-x-pregnantreader?source=share

Part 7: pregnancy warning, NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/617615030443196416/hello-again-lovies-we-have-some-more-story-with?source=share

Part 8: pregnancy warning, NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/625573023274172416/take-my-trash-i-forget-where-i-put-the-actual?source=share

Part 9: pregnancy warning, NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/637235652611784704/28-years-5th-pregnancy-yanderesilva-x-reader?source=share

Part 10: NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/190465818371/28-years-yanderesilva-x-reader-lemon-forced?source=share

Part 11:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/618409025468514304/reader-slapping-silvas-ass-idk-i-just-need-it?source=share

Part 12:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/615977522237145088/i-cant-stop-why-is-my-garbage-bin-brain-like?source=share

Part 13:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/624360451250290688/i-love-your-yandere-scenarios-and-im-always?source=share

Part 14:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/620682359409459200/hello-lovies-are-you-tired-of-silva-content?source=share

Part 15: NSFW warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/620681584534831104/imagine-silvas-darling-feeling-his-erection?source=share

Part 16:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/629473342218469376/could-you-do-a-yandere-silva-where-the-reader-is?source=share

Part 17:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/613873162847977472/28-years-yanderesilva-x-reader-lemon-forced?source=share

Part 18:

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/672998715933573120/okay-okay-okay-im-p-sure-no-one-has-asked-this?source=share

Part 19: pregnancy warning

https://www.tumblr.com/kiame-sama/661812225446739968/28-years-yanderesilva-x-reader-pregnancy?source=share

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #hxh yandere #yandere silva #daddy silva #28 years series #28 years hxh

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cursivebloodlines · 1 year ago

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"Still, a bit extreme, don't you think?" Although on second thought, maybe not. Lydia was well aware of the importance of needing to be careful but even this seemed a bit like overkill. Besides, what was it he had said before? That if someone tried anything, he would know about it faster than she could even blink? Oh, and that nobody would even try anything because of his reputation. In different words and probably far fewer words but that was a reminder swirling around in her head. Did he really think people were pathetic enough to try and cause chaos on his wedding day? That being said, she supposed she could understand to a degree, given whatever he involved himself with. After finding out about her father, she'd never been the same since. Their relationship was rocky at best, and even Lydia knew she needed to tread very carefully around the man. At least Ivan was honest with her and she knew where she stood with him. If he caught her trying anything with him, she'd be dead. Heck, if she were a man, she would already be. They already had that conversation. But her father? Lydia knew he did not hesitate to stick a knife in someone's back, and she knew all it would take was a fraction of a second for him to turn on someone. He used people to his advantage, took what he could get from them to get ahead, and disposed of them when they weren't of use to him anymore, or a better offer came along. Whatever means necessary. He'd told her that to her face. The thought of him trying something today, his daughter's wedding day, had crossed her mind a couple of times but she dismissed it because he was too on board with the idea. Too eager. Which only made her unable to stand him even more. Encouraged her to stay as far away from the man as humanly possible. And she never even considered Ivan may have been concerned about him since they came up with the stupid idea between them and Lydia was forced - and very bitterly so - to go along with it. Deep down, though, she thought maybe somewhere, deep, deep down in whatever was left of his soul, he still loved his daughter but had the most peculiar way of showing it. That if it boiled down to it, he would not put his only daughter in jeopardy. To say she trusted him would be bullshit, though. Lydia didn't trust anyone, not anymore. Trust needed to be earned, and so far everyone proved time and time again that she could not trust anymore, no matter what.

His question about whether she could see her feet earned a laugh leaving her lips. A laugh! Was she actually laughing at something her husband said? Without any indicator of sarcasm or malice? That had to be a first for her today. Not to be mistaken for softening up for him because that wasn’t the case and would never be. At least, that was what she convinced herself of. She couldn't stand him or anything he stood for. Yet there were all of these filthy thoughts lingering in her mind, thanks to before. “No, not that I need to look at my feet but now I definitely can’t…Not with you and your big head blocking my vision.” A pathetic rebuttal, really. And a weak one for her. But it wouldn’t be Lydia if she didn’t come up with something or other. Or at the very least tried to sound like she was composed, put together. But this time, instead of it being spoken in the usual sour tone she had especially for him, it was more teasing and even playful. It was literally anything to distract her from all the other thoughts running rampant in her mind, trying to forget whatever that was back in the elevator. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help but let her mind drift back to only moments before. God, this man was going to be the death of her. "Maybe they would. But now we'll never know because the hero of the hour is upon us. My two brain cells are eternally grateful." Quite possibly the nicest thing she had said to him this far. Were they...bantering? Such a peculiar feeling it was. She had grown accustomed to dishing out snide remarks and hearing sneering retorts in return. This? This was a bit different. Like they were actually joking. Like they were actually tolerating each other. Whatever. It meant nothing. She was sure it wouldn't take long before they were hurling insults at each other once again. With the buckles of her shoes removed, Lydia stepped out of them, letting her feet brush against the floor. Making no effort to put on the new pair.

Yet...the atmosphere changed once more. With a question from her husband's mouth, there was the sexual tension permeating the atmosphere once again. All that mental effort to sort herself out and shed whatever feelings she'd had back in the elevator, the attempts evaporated into thin air with a few mere words from Ivan. A wicked smirk graced the woman's lips as she carefully eyed him, considering her answer with a thoughtful hum, which turned into a quiet but audible gasp as his hand came into contact with her skin, brushing against her leg. Her pulse quickened, her stomach doing flips laced with both anticipation and excitement. "Need? Oh, I don't know - needing and wanting are two different things..." she teased, goosebumps rising against her skin at the contact. Growing impatient, Lydia needed him to do something - anything at this point. Preferably without interruption, but she was growing restless. How could she think straight when he was on the floor before her, his fingers exploring underneath her dress? His lips followed suit. "Ivan, please -" she let out a breath, breathing pattern growing heavier as his lips pressed against her thigh. Closer, but still not enough. And she was impatient. Lydia's eyes almost widened at the sound of her own voice, how needy she sounded - almost like she was about to beg him. But no, of course, she wasn't about to do that. She let her fingers brush through his hair, beckoning him a little more forward with a light push, adjusting herself so he was that little bit closer to where she so desperately craved him. "I think it's time you got that answer to your question back in the elevator," she murmured, her other hand reaching down to her dress, attempting to lift it up higher. His words echoed through her mind: If I lift up that dress, are you going to be wet? So bold, and if she were in the right mind, she would've ought to have slapped him for that. But at the same time, he had caught her off guard - and it didn't help how hot it sounded, coming from his mouth. She couldn't stop thinking about it. The what ifs. But hopefully, now she was about to get the answer to that question. Hopefully. "Now, preferably," Lydia added at the end, a signal of her impatience.

"I don't even trust my own shadow, princess" Ivan wasn't going to bluntly tell her that he didn't trust her father one bit. Her father looked like the kind of person who couldn't wait to stab anyone who presented a threat to his organization, no matter if they were allies and if he did it from behind. Ivan wasn't paranoid, he was just being careful. Especially if a dangerous man like Lydia's father was involved in the equation. He didn't care that he was married to the man's daughter, if Ivan had to guess, it made him an even bigger target because it had put him right under the man's radar. The fact that he was married to Lydia probably meant nothing to the man who hadn't hesitated to 'marry off' his daughter to a very dangerous man like him to begin with. That was weird cause, who would do that? but Ivan was glad he had gotten away with it without any conflict with her father after all. Even if they took her father out of the equation, the mere fact that she was married to him put her at risk. Just as Ivan had worked his way to the top with blood and sweat, he had left more than one unhappy person along the way. His wedding day would be a good day to get something done with all the attention on the celebrations. He made a mental note to have a talk with her in the next days. Lydia needed to be exactly aware of the danger she might be in. Well, she always had been due to her dad but now she was also married. Ivan saw no point in keeping her in the dark, smart as she was, knowledge was power in Lydia's case. She couldn't know everything or the dirty details but she needed to know she should have her eyes open. He needed her to understand the importance of trusting her instincts. If anything ever told her to get the hell out of a place, Lydia had to understand that she had to do that and then call her husband. With some luck she would keep her eyes open to anything that seemed strange and tell Ivan right away. Although something told him that she wouldn't call him cause she was just that proud and currently hated him that much no matter what her body said.

His fingers caressed her skin slowly. Her skin was warm, it was soft and Ivan could swear that he had the same scent of jasmine as her perfume. He rolled his eyes at her when he heard her "Yeah, sure, I bet you can" Her voice was full of sarcasm. Hopefully she could even see what color her shoes were. Ivan looked up to her and raised his eyebrows. "Can you even see your feet in this dress?" He replied with a mocking tone. If he were in her place, Ivan couldn't see his own feet. Mainly because in order to be able to take off her shows, Lydia needed lift her skirt and take off her shoes. Unless his wife was Wonder Woman, she would need help, and Ivan had known enough about Lydia in the past two hours to know that she was headstrong enough to risk a fall and break her neck rather than ask for help. the "I bet both of your brain cells would have a field day trying to bend down and find your feet at the same time you lift your skirt, sweetheart" He had every intention of sounding funny. At least if he was messing around he didn't have to think about how tempting she looked right now and the fact that for the first time since they were husband and wife, they were alone within four walls. Ivan ran her fingers through the buckle of one of her shoes and undid it before doing the same to the other. Ivan wanted more, he wanted to do something more than feel her skin on her fingers. If he had been up to it, he would have taken Lydia right there in that elevator without a problem. He would just stop the thing but he wanted to take his time exploring his cranky little wife.

"Do you have anything else for me around here, wife?" The tone shifted and now it was suggestive. That was a much nicer way for Ivan to ask her if she wanted something else from him. Something like his fingers or his mouth somewhere else. Now he knew for sure after the elevator thing that he wasn't the only one who was feeling all that sexual tension and heat when they were together. Also all that could be part of the flirtation that both seemed to have in that tug-of-war just married relationship. The position Ivan was in, still crouched in front of her, opened his mind to a universe of possibilities. Among them, doing something much more fun and satisfying for both of them than having to be eating dinner and greeting guests downstairs. In fact, if it weren't for face-saving reasons, Ivan would have no problem screwing everything up and staying in that bedroom with Lydia for the rest of the night. His fingers slid under her dress to just above her knee, caressing her skin and giving her a gentle squeeze "Or maybe you need something else from me?" His other hand moved up the fabric of her dress gently before exposing much of her legs and kissing the outer side of her thigh. It was a bold move but with everything that had happened in the elevator, Ivan hoped it would pay off.

#HELLO I MISSED THEM A LOT SO HERE IS THIS GARBAGE #my inability to write is :)))))) so sorry but i could not resist they make me so aaaaaaaaaaaaa #NOW IM GOING TO BED ITS NEARLY 2AM OOPS #but i promised you'd have my idiot lydia today so HERE U GO!! aaaaaaaaa im sorry if it sucks ;-; love me! excuse any typos omg #excuse the length i dgsdgasdgsd #lydia x ivan #lydia x ivan ;; 001 #musebluebird #musebluebird ;; ivan #muse ;; lydia collins #lydia collins ;; interactions

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reallyromealone · 6 months ago

Note

hello!

Could you do more about baby!haitani? something like how the Haitani brothers would react to their little brother saying his first word and it being something strange

For example, my first word was "water" and my little brother's was "cheese."

Title: parrot

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: ran Haitani Rindō Haitani reader

Fic type: short story

Pairings: none

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child male reader, fluff

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Was a chatterbox, even if he was saying gargled nonsense.

The Haitani brothers LOVED talking to the littlest Haitani and including him in conversation, they read somewhere that it promotes speech so they made sure to talk clearly to him at all times.

"And I said 'I refuse to use that garbage in my hair!' and she had the nerve to call me an ass!" Ran complained as he had little (name) in his lap and Rindō in the chair across from him, the babe chewing on his teething ring "we don't accept anything less than perfect, do we (name)?" Ran asked his baby brother who looked up and smiled, his general reaction to his brothers showing him attention "exactly! That's why we get you the good baby food!"

(Name) Continued babbling as they spoke "did you hear shion got a cat? He said he liked having a little buddy when he comes home" Rindō said casually as he showed the picture of shions cat, apparently Chifuyu helped him get the fur ball "cat!" (Name) Squealed as he looked at the photo and reached for it, the elder brothers looking at each other before looking at the youngest "caaaat!" He whined and the two busted out laughing before cheering on their baby brother.

Later that day, Chifuyu, kazutora and Baji got a visit from the three, (name) excited to get to meet peke j's pecklings and the adoptables.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #x male reader #child male reader #rindou haitani #ran haitani #haitani brothers

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purelyfiction · 8 months ago

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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 5,334 words

Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd

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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring.

The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them.

Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this.

Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.

“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.

“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you.

Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.

"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."

But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh.

"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me.

“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair.

“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”

God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed.

The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point.

“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.

“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.”

“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.

“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony.

It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah.

Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd.

Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost.

“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out.

“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor.

“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?”

“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.

“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you.

“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring.

You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good.

“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”

Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’?

“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs.

“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction.

“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps.

“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.”

“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”

“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man.

“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath.

“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”

“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”

Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out.

“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”

“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.”

Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him.

The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him.

“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine.

“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again.

“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.”

Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you.

“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you.

You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.

“What’s there to lose?”

You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds.

Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments.

Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

RunTao: phony photos

Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!

H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right

It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them.

The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting.

Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗

Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies.

You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-

The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink.

You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”

“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it.

“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar.

“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful.

“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.

“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff.

“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead

“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand.

You’re here for Jake anyways.

“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs.

“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”

True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile.

“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up.

“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you.

“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin.

“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back.

“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?”

“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you.

“You were practically eye-fucking him.”

“Was not.”

“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time.

“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.”

Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.”

The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink.

“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this.

You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less.

It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums.

Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones.

Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater.

With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you.

“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins.

“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet.

It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character.

How many women had actually made it past the outside?

The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket.

“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head.

“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building.

The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night.

“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically.

“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head.

“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.”

Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand.

“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin.

“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing.

“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up.

“I am not eating your taco!”

“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction. One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught.

“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos.

“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.”

With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal.

The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car.

Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod.

The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway.

It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend.

“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.

A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation.

“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you.

“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind.

“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs.

“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things.

“Jake, I’m-”

“You’re staying with me.”

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