#thank u for inspiring me to make this anon

[puppyeared]

you give off California Girls vibes

Its because I am

[swordheld]

how did u choose your username?

oh, this is a fun one!! i think i considered being swordtold at first, for that very ancient myth vibe of the sword being this narrative tool for adventure and structure and physical time, the parable being passed down through the centuries until it meddles into modern day rhetoric and ideology – a kind of fantastical tool, a spark of magic, of possibility.

i like the arc of the story of a place being physical / having it be held by time and hand alike, wearing with the years and having it become something different to each holder, each reader, each experience fantastical and individual.

having that kind of physicality to it; swordheld is the action of taking up and holding the sword yourself, choosing your own narrative, leading your own story. self-identity has always been something i struggle with (a novel concept i know, i know), so it felt right for this blog, since most of my older blogs before this one have been just me silently reblogging and never really posting anything myself, and i wanted this to be the change to that.

i've always had trouble wranging my social anxiety, esp. on the internet, and previously thought that keeping my words to myself helped keep the timeline cleaner, in a way, no messy thoughts for others to sort through, especially ones i believed no one would want to read anyway? but it never felt right, keeping myself apart from it all, esp. not in the way i so avidly enjoyed reading others' posts and additions, keeping their words close to my heart.

i wanted it to reflect that this was a space i was holding for myself? and i'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but this - this i think i got right. i love being here, on this blog, and the joy that it brings me. everyone else enjoying it too has been a wild ride that i never expected, and still surprises me, one that brings a little extra thrill to my heart whenever i think about it.

i had other urls that i liked, but i didn't want this blog to be tied directly to any of my fandom/story interests, since i wanted it to really just be a sort of archive of artistic inspiration and resource, like a little library or museum. i use them now as lil sideblogs of more niche interests now, which is rather lovely.

it hasn't always felt like it fit perfectly, the way that i'd like, but for some reason i can't think of really wanting to change it anytime soon. it feels mythic yet modern in a way that feels like puzzle pieces finally slotting into their place, something my own and inspirational to me, like a lantern i'm holding to make my way by. my own kind of light, if that makes sense – a star i know by name.

[marnz]

hi! just wanted to let you know on this labor day that I've been following you since I was a teenager (now mid 20s) and it was thanks to your blog that I first started to learn about the importance of unions! so thanks for that! 😅🫶

🥹 anon this made me so happy!! thank you so much for telling me!! i hope you have a wonderful day 💖

[despairforme]

Please, consider an au: Nnoitra meets Toby (the way mun is writing about him is so heartwarming, I just cant...<5<5<5)

❝ We already hang out all'a 'da time, so I don't need 'ta spend MORE time with my mod. ❞

[pupkashi]

sweet nothing

gojo always finds himself running home to you

a/n: hi friends ! hope u all enjoy this little piece inspired by the song sweet nothing by taylor swift (thank u anon for the inspo 🫶🏼) let me know what u all think :3

wordcount: 1,310

masterlist

one of the only thoughts on gojo satoru’s mind, from the moment he leaves home to the second he’s unlocking the door, is coming home to you.

his shoulders hurt from the amount of stress he’s under, every muscle in his body tense, eyes burning with exhaustion, and his head throbbing as the higher ups words ring in his ears. the light jingle of his keys as he unlocks the front door helps ground him a bit, blinking once, twice then opening the front door.

he’s greeted with the smell of food, he can’t quite place what it is (he doesn’t help in the kitchen much after the one time he did and ended up ruining three pans), he’s slipping his shoes off and placing his keys in the small leaf shaped holder on the table next to the door.

his eyes naturally focusing on the picture frame of the two of you on vacation last July, a wide, carefree smile painted on both of your faces, hair a bit messy from walking around. his cheeks were flushed as you planted a kiss to his cheek, your arms thrown around his neck.

satoru’s thrown out of his trance by the sudden sound of loud sizzling, the small smile on his face only growing when he hears your soft humming. his tired feet carry him quickly to the kitchen, a spring in his step as he grows closer and closer to being with you.

he feels the weight on his shoulders ease up a bit as his eyes land on you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching you chop up vegetables with a smile on his face, replacing the higher ups nagging ringing in his ears with your off-key singing.

“have you ever considered x-factor sweetheart?” he asks, a lopsided smile on his face when you turn to face him, bright eyes as you welcome him home.

“i sent in a recording once, they offered me a ten year contract but i declined” you teased, moving to stir the food cooking in the pan, “told them i have a very needy boyfriend that would die without me.”

satoru let’s put a small ‘pft��� at your words, pushing himself off the wall and walking up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.

“how was your day, angel boy?” you ask, voice as sweet as honey as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. satoru let’s put a small huff, his warm breath tickling your neck which causes you to smile.

“‘t was okay, just stressed out” he mumbles, “and the fucking higher ups are-”, his eyes closing as he remembers his conversation with them, sighing deeply. you pout a bit, noting his more more tense body against yours. you let yourself melt into his touch, turning around and hugging him properly.

“don’t wanna talk about it?” you ask gently, he shakes his head, bangs covering his eyes just a bit. you nod, giving him a smile before kissing his lips softly, “then we won’t.”

satoru is grateful, knowing that when the time is right he’ll open up to you about it. but for now he just wants to spend his night with the love of his life.

“good thing im making your favorite then huh?” you chuckle, watching the way his shoulders inflate, he’s standing taller and there’s a smile on his face.

it wasn’t long before the two of you were eating dinner together, making easy conversation and laughing at anything stupid either of you said. he’s placing the freshly washed plates on the drying rack, heading over to you on the couch when you stop him.

“go shower, I’ll let you use my stuff” you state, eyes widening as you see satoru already running towards the restroom, “just this once!” you call out, hearing his loud giggles echoing from down the hall.

it’s 40 minutes later when he’s emerging into your shared room in only his boxers, body still dripping with water and steam following him out. you can smell your rose scented body wash on him as he dries himself off besides you.

satoru is looking at you with big eyes, towel in hand as he grins up at you, “will you dry my hair?” his voice is filled with a gentleness you’ve grown much too soft for.

“come here” you smile, heart growing at the sound of an excited squeak he lets out. you’re gentle as you dry his hair, combing out any knots and putting some product in it before patting his head twice, letting him know you were done.

your lover is quick to change positions, taking you in his arms and curling himself around you, some damp strands landing on your face as he buries his face in your neck. you’re doing your best to wiggle your hands free from his grasp, adjusting so you can card your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp a bit just the way he likes.

satoru visibly relaxes against your touch, practically purring as you whisper to him, “I’m so proud of you” you say, “you work so hard, angel” tenderness carried in every syllable of your words.

“I love you so much” you remind him, squeezing him a bit tighter, moving his hair from his forehead and placing a kiss there, “my beautiful boy” you murmur, a smile on your face as you see the way his grin grows.

the apples of his cheeks are rosy, pink dusting his entire face. satoru easily grabs your hips, placing you on top of him so that you straddle his lap.

“how do you always know what to say?” he asks, looking up at you with fond eyes, nuzzling his cheek into the palm of your hand as you place a stand of hair behind his ear.

“hmm, call it intuition” you tease, placing feathery kisses all over his face, the two of you giggling when you kiss his nose, “but it’s probably just ‘cause I’m your soulmate” you smile.

satoru hums in agreement, one hand snaking to the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, your lips moving in sync. when you pull away the two of you are giggling softly, foreheads resting against each other as he shifts a bit, kissing you nose before throwing his head back against the pillows, letting out a small sigh.

“sometimes i wish i was just your toru” he mumbles, “i never asked to be the strongest.” you can hear the slight tremor in his voice as he speaks, his eyes closing to fight tears back. you’re quick to kiss his cheeks, rubbing your thumb against his cheek as you coax him to look at you.

“i know you didn’t, angel boy” you sigh, brushing his hair away from his face gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “it’s gonna work itself out, i know it will” you reassure him, a small smile on your face as he nods along with you.

maybe you were right, maybe you weren’t, satoru didn’t care. he believed every word you said to him. each reassurance working to calm his exhausted mind, his eyes fluttering closed as you continue to whisper, your words meant for him and only him.

“and you’ll always be my toru” pressing a feathery kiss to his jaw, “the one with the stupid sweet tooth and terribly timed jokes” you smile, watching the way his smile returns to his face.

“I’ll always be here waiting for you to come home to me” you say, there’s a plethora of emotions dripping from your words. the only thing satoru feels is love, your undying and genuine love, for him.

gojo satoru may not know everything, but he knows one thing for sure; he’ll always be ready to run home to you and your sweet nothings.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[madridfangirl]

I'm taking you home NOW!

(Part 2 of the one-shot. On popular demand. Part one here. This is SMUT.)

Summary: Jude sees his girlfriend at a club, tries to control himself as he watches her have the time of her life, but ultimately decides to take the matter in his own hands. What happens when he finally gets his hands on her?

Inspired from an anon request.

She hung up. Jude couldn’t believe she hung up on him.

He stared at his phone, then at her through the glass, then back at his phone.

Boy, was he going to make her pay.

Ananya realised that wasn’t a very smart move but he had completely thrown her off-guard. Between fight or flight, her instincts went with the latter. She could feel his gaze on her as she walked back to her table, the intensity burning her skin even through the distance and glass divider. She didn’t dare to look in that direction and sat down with her back to him.

Jude stayed there for a few seconds, half-inclined to walk down there right now and make good on his threat. But if he did that, sex would be off the table tonight. His parents / team would get a heart attack from the scandal he would have caused. And Ananya - oh she would strangulate him with her bare tiny hands.

Grudgingly, he dragged himself back to his teammates. Brahim elbowed him as soon as he sat down, telling him he was being too plain. Just that, the rest of the guys were pissed drunk already and hadn’t noticed. Jude couldn’t get himself to care. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Ananya knew he wouldn’t just let it go. And she was proven right 5 mins later when her phone buzzed. 

It was a picture with him, Cama, Vini and three waitresses. Two of them were on either side of Jude, their arms around his back and his around theirs. Both leaning against him, a little too close, looking all giddy and infatuated. The typical reaction he invoked in girls.

She started at her screen, open-mouthed, at his obvious attempt to rile her up. No, she won’t give him the satisfaction. She watched her tone carefully before texting him back.

Ananya: ??

Jude: Sent by mistake. Was sending to one of the girls.

Please, like she was born yesterday.

Jude: They didn’t have their phone on them so I took from mine & sending over. To the one on my right.

So, Jude had her number and she had Jude’s. 

Ananya: How sweet.

The girl was pretty. A classic petite, sexy Spanish brunette. A high-end waitress for the VIP section of one of the most posh clubs in Madrid. In her tight-fitted top & mini-skirt. Ananya knew from first-hand experience how Jude had a fetish for such uniforms. 

Jude: Yeah she’s over the moon. Thanking me non-stop.

She groaned. The boy was smart, talking in insinuations so she couldn’t hold anything over his head. So he doesn’t lose the moral high-ground he had right now. So he could always say later ‘oh it was just a nice thing I did for my fans.’ 

The fucker. The absolute shrewd twat. 

It had taken him all of 5 mins to swing this. The girl was probably touching his arm right now, trying to get his attention in her barely there attire. Batting her lashes, smiling extra hard. Reserving special service for him. Ready to drop her knickers at his one look. 

Her friend probably wanted to join in too. Both in a frenzy over how sweet he was being. Trying to score with the hottest property in football right now (literally & figuratively), who was drunk (ergo unreserved) and looked like an absolute meal tonight. 

This happened all too often with him. Offers for quickies in washrooms / hook-ups / one-night stands tended to pour in for him freely. Jude would tell her every time someone hit on him so explicitly or proposition him so openly. It was an unspoken understanding between them, something that gave her comfort.

Usually, he would nip these things in the bud, not providing any encouragement. But tonight, would he indulge a bit? To get back at her for her supposed flirting?

She hadn’t flirted, she hadn’t. She just smiled a bit cheesily at the bartender and chatted him up so she could get her drinks faster. That’s it. That wasn’t flirting, right?

Jude would vehemently disagree. But fuck him. 

And fuck the fact that he knew her so well. He knew what this photo would do to her. The exact things running through her mind. How she would notice that his hands were on their waist, not their shoulders which was his usual with other girls. How she’d be able to tell that the girls were trying to throw themselves at him. 

And it had taken him less than 5 mins to orchestrate this. Such was his charm.

The bastard. She hated his guts right now.

He wanted every single one of these 30 mins to be a torture for her. Not letting her have the win. And he was succeeding. In her heart, she knew he wouldn’t cross the line, she trusted him. But there was a grey area that existed between nonchalance and crossing the line. And Jude being Jude was obviously well aware of that grey area of ‘humouring someone’ or ‘harmless flirting.’

If she was making him wait, then he wanted to make sure she feels the pinch of it too. To the point where SHE suggests to call it a night sooner. How sweet a win that would be for him, he’d forever throw that in her face.

No. Whatever happens, she won’t succumb to such lows. Even the great, most desirable Jude Bellingham would have to wait once in a while. Even if it was killing her from the inside.

Ananya: Careful, unless you wanna sleep on the couch tonight.

Jude: Neither of us are sleeping tonight.

She hated the shiver that ran down her spine. She hated the power he had over her, making her tremble just with his words.

In need of some liquid courage, Ananya downed three more shots of tequila quickly. That, and the lack of food during the night, hit her straight in the head. She went to the washroom to fix her look, re-applying the makeup.

It was almost time. To walk into the lion’s den. A pissed-off predator on edge. At least that’s what it felt like as she somehow found the way to the back-door of the VIP section.

When she saw his car, she froze. Not knowing what to expect tonight. He’d always been possessive & dominant, but tonight he felt unhinged. Like some switch had flipped in his head. 

When she didn’t move for a few more seconds, her phone started ringing. She didn’t bother looking, she knew it was him. Growing impatient. Wanting her to move her butt. As if he was the king of the world.

Cocky, entitled prick.

Half-pissed and full drunk, she marched to the car. As soon as she got into the back-seat, she turned towards him.

‘Just you? Thought your admirers would join you.’

Jude scoffed, looking at her like she had let his childhood pup run to the road and get hit by a car.

‘Look who’s talking.’

Their eyes locked in a fiery staring contest.

‘YOU SENT ME A FUCKING PHOTO YOU JERK.’

‘You started it.’

The fact that he was able to keep his head and speak with an even tone pissed her off further.

‘I started it? I STARTED IT? OH YOU LITTLE…’

A timid uncomfortable clearing of throat from the front seat broke her out of her rage. Poor Agnes wanted to be invisible in that moment.

‘Ummm, sorry but shall we get going? The security is signalling us to clear the lane.’

Jude recovered quickly while Ananya sat numb. Having completely forgotten about the sweet chauffeur’s existence. Someone she had grown fond of. Someone her uncle’s age maybe. Someone she respected. And she just made a scene in front of him. Horrified, she sunk into her seat.

‘Yes please. Take us home.’

‘Sure thing.’

His place was a short 15 min away. Especially at this hour of the night.

She was determined to let these minutes pass without any other incident. But Jude had other plans.

He took off his jacket and threw it over her, covering her waist and legs. Before she could tell him she wasn’t cold or anything, his hand found its way under the jacket to her thigh, lifting her dress up, grabbing her bare skin.

She gaped at him in shock, but he looked straight ahead, completely nonchalant. 

The pressure of his hand increased. She bit her lip to muffle her gasp, trying to push his hand away but Jude stayed firm. She tried again but he gripped her harder, showing her how it will play out if she struggles more.

She couldn’t push him away with more force. She couldn’t call him out verbally. She couldn’t throw the jacket away while his hand was there. With Agnes sitting ahead, all these would create such a scandal in her head that it would take forever to recover from the embarrassment.

And Jude knew that. He knew she didn’t have an escape, and he pounced on the opportunity.

His hand travelled further up, brushing against her core. Her shocked whimper didn’t go unnoticed this time, and Ananya tried to cover it up by pretend cough.

‘Would you like some water?’

Agnes passed over a bottle to her, which she took gratefully. While Jude suppressed a smirk building at the corner of his lips. How she wanted to slap that pretty face right now.

While she sipped the water, his fingers brushed against her again, and some water spilled out. A trail of droplets went down her lips, via her long neck, soaking her cleavage, disappearing into her strapless dress. Drawing Jude’s attention. He stared at her wet, smooth, glistening skin and cursed inwardly when she wiped off the spilled water with her hand, missing his thirsty look altogether.

His hand assaulted her sensitive skin with more intent, alternating between her thigh and her core. Feeling how wetness started to pool between her legs. 

Helpless, she looked out of the window. Hoping for the universe to swallow her whole. Biting her hand / wrist to mask her whimpers. Feeling a strange mix of anger, frustration & arousal. All feelings accentuated due to her drunken state. He was stroking the fight away from her, one touch at a time. Every move calculated to turn her into a whiny hot mess. Needy, pliant and ready for him.

She hated him for putting her in this vulnerable position. But her body was responding to the thrill of it. Jude was the king of spontaneity and adventure, never a dull moment with him.

Finally, they reached home. The ride felt like 3 hours to her, but it had only been 12 mins.

‘Thanks Agnes. You can leave the car here.’

The middle-aged man turned towards his boss, confused. The car was in the open driveway, not in the covered garage where he usually parked.

‘It might rain tonight. And the dust…’

‘It’s alright. See you tomorrow. Good night.’

‘Good night to you too.’

A very confused Agnes got out of the car, as his passengers remained in the back seat.

Ananya knew where this was going. Doing it in the car was one of Jude’s fetishes too. He would have preferred an open road if he wasn’t who he was. She was just thankful he waited for Agnes to be out of hearing distance.

As soon as Jude saw the compound gate click shut, he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap, making her straddle him. Her dress inched further up by the position, pooling at her waist, revealing her matching red lace panties. Jude traced the border of the flimsy garment with his index finger, losing his focus for a few seconds, while she tried to gauge his mood by studying his face.

She was still mad at him but darn it she also needed him now. His expert fingers had worked their magic as usual. And her drunken state was making her needy. She liked to be taken softly & slowly after being buzzed. While that wasn’t gonna happen tonight, given the mood he was in, but maybe she could find a middle ground.

Ananya leaned forward, trying to kiss his lips, but he grabbed the back of her head, keeping her in place. Staring at her with a ferocious intensity. Like he wanted to eat her alive.

‘You had your fun tonight.’

Being the sole object of his undivided, obsessive attention was also intoxicating in its own way. There were surely worse things in the world than Jude Bellingham wanting to fuck you anytime he wanted.

And she needed him to get on with it, preferably not too roughly.

‘Yes, with my friends.’

Her tone was soft and assuaging. She moved in his lap, trying to rub herself against his crotch, but he grabbed her hips too, not letting her dictate the terms.

‘Not JUST with your friends.’

The image of the bartender and those ugly, sweaty guys trying to dance with her was still fresh in his mind.

Arguing that point would be useless, so she changed tact, keeping her tone sensuous.

‘Does it matter? I was always going to come home to you.’

He scoffed, incredulously. 

‘YOU REFUSED ME. I NEEDED you and you REFUSED ME.’

He was painfully half-hard most of the night, all because of her. And she had refused to take care of his need.

‘Didn’t refuse you baby, just asked for a bit more time with my friends.’

‘Yeah right.'

Despite her horniness, his petulant tone was starting to set her off. Here she was trying to be the adult, to let bygones be bygones, but he was stuck on being petty. 

‘What are you implying exactly?’

‘That you FLIRTED with that asshole, you KNEW what you were doing. And then you picked your friends OVER ME.’

He was probably right about the flirting bit. In a rational state she may have conceded this. But rationality had gone out of the window at his entitled cribbing.

‘Yeah, and what about what you did, huh?’

She grabbed the collar of his shirt, both to shake him and to steady herself.

‘I got one night in weeks, WEEKS, to get out of work early and have fun with my friends. But you wanted me to drop EVERYTHING and run to you at your first command? To be at your beck and call all the time? I don’t deserve one night off?’

‘All the time? ALL THE TIME? We have barely….’

‘SHUT UP.’

She yelled like she meant it, shushing him up for good.

‘And you had the audacity to send me THAT photo? Fuck that, you had the audacity to TAKE THAT PHOTO? What did you do to make them so giddy, huh? Smiled at them? Paid some compliments? Let your gaze linger? Brushed your fingers against their hand? What did you fucking do in those 5 mins that they were FALLING ALL OVER YOU?’

Jude leaned back against the seat. Smug, proud, making no effort to hide the sentiment.

That egotistical dickhead.

‘Who says I did anything?’

‘I’ll fucking slap you I swear. TELL ME.’

Jude eyed her, calculating his next move, choosing his words carefully.

‘Just said I liked what they were wearing.’

She shook him by his collar. Hard.

Jude loved it when she was all pliant and needy. But he loved it even more when she was this feisty & lippy with him.

The image of him complimenting them and them turning into mush on the spot made her want to puke. 

Enraged, Ananya moved to smack him on his chest but he grabbed her wrists, hard enough so she feels the sting.

Another defiant staring contest ensued, as she struggled to get off his lap, failing miserably, her movement making his blood rush south.

Defeated and pissed off, she reverted to a verbal retort.

‘Maybe I should call that bartender and say that to him too, yeah? He did give me his number after all.’

He hadn’t. Well, he was about to do that but she cut him off at the right time. To hell with facts though.

Jude stilled, then turned the full force of his glare at her, face heating up with ire at her words. 

She tried to meet his eyes head on, but it was like staring into the sun. It burned her, and she flinched, looking away to shield herself.

He locked her arms behind her back, tightening his grip on her wrists, his hot & heavy breath causing goosebumps on her face. 

She thanked her stars for not mentioning Arjun instead of the bartender, an option she had considered briefly. God knows how nuclear he would have gone then. Would have probably kept her locked in his room, tied to his bed for weeks on end.

‘He did what?’

His voice was low & threatening, somehow a lot more sinister than when it was raised. She felt its effect straight between her legs.

‘Answer me, sweetness.’

Oh, the bite in that suppose endearment. She shuddered involuntarily. But she was too far in to back out now.

‘I…I wasn’t gonna do anything about it.’

‘Immaterial, darling. You let him think he had a shot, yeah? That he could take you home tonight, or to his car, or a quickie in the loo. Correct?’

She shook her head from side to side in a no, unable to find the right words to respond. 

‘No? So when you were bending over the counter, giving him a view of this…’

He grabbed a breast harshly, making her gasp.

‘….was it to tell him that you were taken?’

She whined loudly under his touch.

‘Jude c’monnn I….’

‘Quiet.’

She hated herself for complying immediately. Like an obedient pet. 

The temperature around them was both burning hot and ice cold at the same time. Silence hung heavy in the air, only the sound of heavy breaths breaking through. 

And then, she heard the unlocking of his belt buckle.

Her eyes went to his waist, as he slowly took off his belt. What he did next made her throat go dry.

Jude tied her hands behind her back with his belt, in a tight grip, while she was still straddling him. His eyes boring a hole through her shaking body.

‘Someone needs to learn how to behave. And a reminder of who she belongs to.’

She wished he would go back to his frenzied ire. Because whatever it is he was doing right now with his chilly even tone was a thousand times more unnerving. She had never seen him like that before. 

‘This dress……was to be worn for me. But now, you’ve ruined it.’

She guessed his next move, but before she could utter a word in protest, strong hands ripped through her dress. Forcefully and mercilessly. Like that garment had personally offended him somehow. 

Ananya saw the remnants fall over the floor of the car in a pile, swiftly followed by her lace panties. It was a shame; she really liked both of those. He had bought them both for her.

Jude looked at her now naked form, while she still hid from his gaze.

He tapped on her lips with two fingers, gently. Then shoved them inside. Spreading her legs with his other hand, he shoved two fingers inside her wet, tight, leaking heat. Then latched on to a nipple with his teeth. Her resulting cries were muffled with his fingers in her mouth.

She was helpless, unable to do anything but to let him have his way. Whining & moaning through it all.

Jude’s hands worked at fast pace, sending her into an overdrive. Then, he switched both hands, making her taste herself on his fingers. As his mouth paid equal attention to both nipples. 

She shuddered violently when his thumb found her clit, as his fingers scissored her mercilessly. And she came on his fingers while screaming his name, falling over his chest, as he made her suck the fingers clean.

Jude gave her precisely 10 seconds to catch her breath, while he unzipped his trousers.

Immediately after, she found herself being brought down over his rock-hard dick, whimpering all the way through. As always, she struggled to take him all in, especially with this angle, and he revelled in the sight, getting extra hard by it, finally nudging his way in.

She had never been rendered this helpless before. Her legs were cramping and her arms were immobile as he bounced her up and down relentlessly, like a maniac. The overstimulation making her eyes water.

His mouth travelled through her torso, leaving angry marks on her sensitive skin. It was pointless asking him to go easy so she didn’t even try.

But when his thumb found her clit again, forcing her towards another orgasm while he was still nowhere near his, she begged him to slow it down. He went just a tad slower, just to humour her but the pressure made her head spin. He was playing her body like a pro, applying just the right pressure at all her sensitive spots together, wrecking her completely. While she was just a helpless doll in his lap.

Jude looked at her bouncing body, swollen & sweaty with his attention, just how it should be. Instead of slowing it down, he increased his pace. And the pressure of his fingers and teeth.

Ananya cried out in painful pleasure. 

She knew what he wanted. She had been fighting hard not to give him the satisfaction. But she was close to shattering again. And he would keep going like a madman till he extracted what he wanted from her. He’d somehow push out his own release and she was nearing the brink of passing out from overstimulation. 

After a long time, she looked straight into his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry?’

‘Yeah, what for?’

‘FOR EVERYTHING.’

She cried out with an extra hard thrust.

‘More specific.’

He wouldn’t let go, not even now, not when he had her completely at his mercy, not when she was meeting him 80% of the way. 

‘For….the bartender…the waiting…the dancing…the fighting…..the dress…..the bra…just…..please Jude.’

Her helpless moaning of his name and the sheer submission of her body did the trick. 

Jude undid her wrists, and brought them around his neck, stroking the bruised areas softly.

She sought out his lips for comfort and he kissed her back slowly, while still bouncing her rhythmically on top of him. Sweaty limbs intertwined. 

Their lips found their familiar motions as her nails dug into his shoulders. He sighed at the sensation. Both nearing their peaks.

‘Dove?’

Her heart swelled at the fondness in his tone and the use of her nickname.

‘Yeah baby?’

Their eyes met. How she could just drown in those honeyed orbs and never come back for air. What a sweet demise that would be.

‘Nothing happened with those girls. I didn’t want them.’

Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest now. And her tears spilled for a different reason. He kissed them away, peppering her face with kisses.

‘I know baby. I know.’

She hugged him tightly, as he rocked them both to their pleasures, coming down from their highs while still clinging to each other.

A few minutes later, he unwrapped her from around himself, covered her in his jacket, and carefully picked her up to carry her to bed, tucking her in.

As he slid under the covers and came to hold her, she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

Confused, he searched her face but came up with nothing.

‘What?’

‘You need to go back to the car now.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I don’t want Agnes to find my torn clothes tomorrow.’

‘I’ll do it in the morning.’

‘We might end up sleeping late and he comes in early.’

‘You want me to go down right now?’

‘Won’t you? For me?’

‘Fine. Whatever.’

She smiled as he stomped his feet all the way down to the car, making his displeasure known, but still keeping her wish.

..........................................................

There you go.

I had no plans for Part 2 but your enthusiasm made it happen.

Let me know your thoughts / comments :)

[rafey-baby]

hidden 5

c/w: outlaw!rafe being his usual self towards pogue!reader, barry making an appearance, closure on the hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, mentions of murder & violence, slightly suggestive, fluffy ending

wc: 3.5k

sooo this is the last part! (but might write some blurbs for them at some point idk) thank u for reading love u <3

also him getting a little jealous was inspired by this anon

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

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

Consciousness drags her out of the comfort of her slumber, forcing her to blink her leaden eyelids open to Rafe’s heavy and very much naked body weighing her down against the couch cushions.  

She can feel his chest expanding with each lethargic inhale he takes and she’s momentarily disconcerted; entangled thoughts desperately trying to make sense of her current situation. However, all too soon, the memories of last night cause her to let out a tired groan.  

What on earth was she thinking? Why would she let Rafe of all people fuck her? And more than once. She can’t even recall how many times she— 

Suddenly, she’s reminded of the reason she stirred from her state of dormancy in the first place when she feels Rafe’s sturdy abdomen pressing down on her bladder. 

“Ugh,” she lets the back of her head hit the armrest before trying to pry him off, albeit to no avail.  

“Rafe? Can you...” she shoves at his shoulder.  

However, he merely takes in a sleepy breath and shifts into a more pleasant position.  

“Rafe, wake up,” she tries again, this time pushing at his face that’s resting comfortably in the crook of her sweaty neck. In response, he offers her a drowsy hum before pasting a sluggish palm over her lips to make her go quiet.  

“Shh,” he silences her and she feels like slapping him because she’s about to pee on her couch and he’s hushing her, of all things.

She wraps her fingers around his limp wrist and yanks it away from her mouth with a huff. “I need to pee. Can you get off me, please?”  

He lets out a dozy grunt before groggily raising his head to look at her; squinting due to the daffodil-colored rays of sunshine peeking from the windows and appearing just as foggy as her a few minutes ago.  

He rubs a hand over his face, mumbling something incoherent under his breath and at last, removes his limbs that restrained her capability to move.  

“Thanks,” she peeps out before getting up and scurrying off to the bathroom; hearing him slump back down onto the couch immediately after.  

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

After rinsing off the stickiness of last night in the steaming shower and changing into a pair of sweats, she realizes she’s starving. Hunger is eating away at her insides and along with the graphic recollections of her and Rafe’s late-night activities vividly jumping around her skull; she can already feel a headache lurking around the corner. 

She’s in the process of cracking eggs on a pan when she hears Rafe entering the shower; the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the tiled floor following soon after. She begins to cut up some tomatoes to add into the mixture, when out of the blue, the doorbell rings.  

She doesn’t think Rafe hears it since the water is still running in the bathroom, which is why she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do.   

She figures that if it’s the police again, it would seem suspicious if it took her longer than normal to open it twice in a row now. Therefore, she turns off the stove and takes tentative steps towards the door.  

Fleetingly, she wonders if she should simply act as if no one’s home since opening doors to strangers was what got her into this mess in the first place. At this point though, she doesn’t necessarily have the mental capacity to care. 

She gingerly unlocks the door with her lip worried between her teeth, and behind it, stands a guy with hair as black as a crow and eyes as brown as coffee beans. 

“Is Rafe here?” He asks with such a slow drawl it makes her wonder if he’s high on something other than just life.  

And he doesn’t seem like a cop. But wouldn’t Rafe have told her if he was expecting someone?  

“I don’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s, um, he’s not here,” she decides to play it safe; the lie clumsily rolling off her tongue. However, she can tell that he’s not buying it. 

“You sure? You tellin’ me he gave me the wrong address then?” He wonders with a lazy furrow of his dark eyebrows.  

“Um, I don’t—” 

“Barry, told you to call me before you get here,” Rafe’s low rumble suddenly interrupts her; making a shiver trickle down her spine because him being right behind her, freshly showered, reminds her a little too much of his first night here.  

“Country club! Thought they got your ass already. Good to see you not in jail,” Barry exclaims loudly and takes the liberty of inviting himself in as if her home has turned into a public building free for anyone to just come and go as they please. At least he has the courtesy to close the door, she thinks.

He greets Rafe with a heartfelt pat on the back and she’s momentarily stunned when his mouth twists into a smile that would be considered warm and genuine; something she’s never had the luxury of receiving. 

“Why you didn’t tell me you were staying with a princess?” Barry pushes at his chest playfully. 

“Leave her alone, man,” Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance.  

“I ain’t do nothin’. Just statin’ the obvious here,” Barry raises his hands up in defense and the unexpected compliment makes her suppress a giddy simper. 

“Whatever, just get your ass here, I need your help,” Rafe grumbles out as he begins walking towards her bedroom. Not even asking if he can go there because why would he? 

“Ain’t nothin’ new about that,” Barry chuckles, revealing a golden tooth that glints under the light when he grins at her. 

And there’s a familiarity in which they interact that makes her figure they’ve known each other for a long time. With the little knowledge she has, she then comes to the conclusion that Barry most likely plays a part in the side business Rafe briefly mentioned when she’d found out about the cop he’d killed.

She assumes all of it is also connected to the plastic baggies full of white powder in the glove compartment of his truck, because there’s no way Rafe needs that much coke just for personal use.  

“We have to, uh, talk about some shit. So, go do something else, yeah?” Rafe looks over his shoulder at her.

“Right, um, okay,” she mumbles out before turning around to return to the safety of her kitchen.  

“Damn, Rafe. That how you talk to her even though she be letting you hide here?” Barry questions as he follows after him. 

“Shit, man, can you just— let’s just get this over with, alright? Don’t have all day,” Rafe mutters in response. 

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” Barry’s humorous tone is the last thing she hears before the door closes; leaving her to resume preparing her breakfast with a weary sigh.  

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

A few days later, she hears Rafe’s voice from the living room as she’s thoughtlessly reorganizing her closet; folding shirts and pants and taking out clothes she no longer wears, since he still doesn’t allow for her to leave the house without him. 

“Come watch this for a second?” His tone sounds almost excited when she pads over to stand next to him on the rug; looking over at him in question. 

However, he merely nods towards the television screen and turns the volume higher.  

“And then onto some more interesting news. The charges for Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development, have been dropped due to no significant evidence found to prove him guilty. However, the investigation is still open and the police are doing everything they can in order to find the criminal behind the devastating murder that has shaken up the entire island for weeks now. In order to ensure everyone’s safety, we hope that you keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary and…” 

Everything after that turns into muffled background noise as her jaw drops and her rounded eyes flicker over to Rafe.  

“I’m a free man, Puppy,” he turns to face her with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“How did you even…” she’s momentarily stunned; words withering away as she simply blinks up at him in surprise. 

“Don’t want you to worry about it, alright?” He’s quick to dismiss her as he clicks off the TV. 

“I’m, um, happy for you…even though you did kill the guy and—” 

“Already told you, he wasn’t a good person and an even shittier cop, remember? And I’m gonna need you to never mention that shit again, think you can do that?” He turns serious all of a sudden; peering into her eyes with a warning.  

“Y— yes,” her voice falters when he steps closer.   

“Cause if you can’t, I’m gon’ have to do something you won’t like, you understand?” He gazes at her with such intensity, she can’t do anything but nod with her shoulders tense.  

“You sure? Cause you’re kinda my only loose end here, and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, would we?” His tall frame hovers over her as he leans down to mutter out the words, causing her to flinch.  

“No, I promise. I’m not gonna say anything,” she squeaks out and means it.  

Who would even believe her? After all, she doesn’t have any actual proof and even if she did, she thinks Rafe could easily just pay himself out of it. And she’s not particularly keen on finding out how far he’s willing to take his vengeance.  

“Good,” he seems to relax some but a sense of dread washes over her anyway.  

“But what if…someone threatens me or something?” She asks with caution.  

“That’s not gonna happen. You always worry so much, just chill out for a bit, yeah?” He shrugs it off with an air of indifference she wishes she could possess as well. 

“But it’s a possibility. How do you know someone didn’t see us together when people were looking for you?” She reasons with her mind racing.  

“Listen, if someone threatens you…you come to me and I’ll fucking kill them for you, okay?” He suggests with complete seriousness.  

“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t want you to—” 

However, she’s interrupted by amused laughter bubbling out of his chest. 

“I’m joking. Stop being an annoying Pogue for one second, yeah? Think we should go out for dinner, hm? Let me, uh, thank you for your hospitality and shit,” he says as he smooths a palm over his buzzed hair. 

“Like at a restaurant? You and me?” At the notion of them spending time together outside of all this, confusion tangles up her thoughts; making her forget all about her previous concerns.  

“You’re so fucking weird. Yes, you and me. Who else? Can get whatever expensive shit you want too, how’s that sound?” He coaxes her to agree with the mellow tone he adds, however, not without making fun of her first. 

“Um, okay…sounds great?” She can’t really grasp onto his motives in the headspace she’s currently in, merely assumes he wants to be on her good side so she wouldn’t change her mind about opening her mouth.  

“Great. Need to, uh, take care of some things over at Figure Eight first, but be ready at seven,” he makes it sound like a threat, even if he’s not trying to scare her with a gun anymore.  

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

She doesn’t think she’s ever been at a restaurant this costly; everything on the menu more than she could ever afford. Rafe practically demands her to not pay attention to the price and get anything she wants, however, it’s proving to be quite challenging as she scans over the list of dishes in front of her with creased brows.  

“You ready?” He asks with a hint of impatience.

“No, I can’t decide. There’s so many options and I don’t even know what half of them mean,” she mumbles out in distress. 

“I’ll just, uh, order for you, yeah?” He suggests with a raise of his brows as he stretches out his arms.  

At that, she swallows, desperately trying not to pay any mind to his large biceps practically on display.

“Okay, thanks,” she graces him with a grateful smile; feeling out of place with rich Kooks all around nearly suffocating her.  

Being here with Rafe, of all people, feels strange. Not even a day ago, she was still practically held captive by him, even if the leash of his strict rules around her throat had loosened up considerably, and his overly aggressive tendencies had dwindled down to grumpy mutters and displeased glares over the course of the few weeks they’d known each other. Now, she’s solely bound to him by this muddy, grimy secret that she will probably take down to her grave.  

And despite everything he’s done to her, in some peculiar way, she’s beginning to understand him. Because against all her morals, in a killer, someone who other people would consider a monster, she sees someone simply trying to survive in the harsh world with the crumpled cards life has dealt with him. And she isn’t all too sure how far her feelings of care towards the man branch out but what she does know, is that she doesn’t want him to go to prison. No matter what he’s done. 

And she’s never even met Rafe’s father and he hasn’t talked about him to her, but she has this feeling that to be so violent and hostile, has to be learned from someone.

No one is born evil, even if she wouldn’t necessarily describe him as that.

In Rafe, she sees a boy who was forced to grow up too quickly; someone with the burden of his father’s heavy legacy weighing down on his shoulders with every breath he takes. 

Therefore, she can’t find it in herself to be entirely too upset with him for the way he treated her, thinks she can live with it, even if it was wrong. Because looking back on it, in a way that makes no sense to her, it was also sort of thrilling to keep him hidden and follow along with his very much illegal activities. After all, she’s never really been one to break the rules.  

“Are you guys ready to order?” The server’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and makes her look up at a familiar face, slightly covered by sand-colored curls.  

“Y/N? Long time no talk! How’re you doing?” Lucas, a guy she had a fling with last year meets her eyes with his surprised ones. 

“Oh, hi. I’m good. What a crazy coincidence, didn’t even know you worked here,” she forces out a strained laugh because had she known, she would’ve asked Rafe to pick another restaurant.

“Actually, just started a few weeks ago. But since when do you eat on this side of the island?” He gives her a curious look.  

“I don’t. Just a…special occasion and stuff,“ she steals a glance at Rafe who’s quietly observing their interaction with narrowed eyes.  

And him talking to her right now feels entirely too humiliating since she had told Rafe about him, assuming the two of them would never meet.  

“Right…anyway, haven’t seen you at the surf shop in a while, you still work there or?” Lucas continues with an enthusiasm she can’t quite reciprocate.  

And it’s not like they ended up on bad terms — they weren’t even officially together — she just sort of withdrew from him because despite being an overall nice guy, she felt like he only cared about his own needs. More often than not went on about his day without even taking hers into consideration, both in and outside the bedroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, just had a little, um…family emergency. It was this whole thing, you don’t even wanna know the details,” she lies through her teeth; picking at the corner of her napkin as a distraction.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is everything okay now?” His jade eyes are sympathetic as he peers down at her.  

“Yes, everything’s good. Think I’ll be able to return next Monday,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tries to appear nonchalant.  

“Cool…hey, I was actually wondering if you’d wanna catch up some time?” He scratches at the back of his head; seemingly nervous about her answer. 

She blinks.  

“Oh, um—” 

“You gon’ take our orders at some point or just flirt with her for the next hour?” Rafe invites himself into the conversation with a scoff; tilting his head at him in intrigue.  

And at that, Lucas finally turns towards him.  

“Wait a second, weren’t you just suspected for murder?” He asks with slightly wide eyes.  

“Nah, they dropped the charges cause they were tweaking. I didn’t do shit,” Rafe huffs out, the lie rolling off his tongue far too easily.  

“Oh, right, right. That must, um, suck,” he rambles, seemingly intimidated by him. 

“Yeah, it does,” Rafe mutters, and him clearly trying to fight off a roll of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by her, even if she’s not entirely sure why his mood has suddenly turned sour.  

Lucas is quick to fill in the silence that follows soon after. “Right, so, what would you two like to eat?”

And after he’s left with their orders, Rafe turns to look at her with an annoying smirk overlaying his features. “That the guy who couldn’t make you come?” 

“Rafe! He can still hear you,” she hisses and looks over her shoulder; relieved to discover he’s already out of earshot.  

“Don’t really care. That shit’s just embarrassing for him. What did you see in him anyway? Seems like an ass,” he furrows his brows at her.  

“You’re talking as if you’re any better?”  

“At least made you come, no? Multiple times, may I add. Or you need a reminder?” He nudges her foot under the table with his own; the self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face making her subtly kick him back.  

However, he merely wraps his fingers around her ankle; ceasing her futile attempt at bruising his leg with a chuckle rumbling from his chest.  

“You seriously just tried to kick me? Didn’t seem to complain when you were begging for me to—”  

“Rafe! Why are you talking so loud?” She whines, trying to release the limb he’s captured, however, his grip is strong and she’s not getting free until he decides she is.  

“Calm down, no one here cares. You Pogues never know how to relax, do you?” 

“I am relaxed!” 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he taunts before finally letting go of her foot and she quickly pulls it back so he can’t grab for it again.  

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

“Can I ask you something?” She swallows something akin to sand in her throat; disrupting the sound of their silverware clinking against the ceramic plates as they contently fill up their bellies.  

“Hm?” His eyes flicker over to meet hers. 

“After this, um, are we just gonna go back to our sides of the island and never talk again?” There’s a wistful hue coloring over her question.  

“That’s what you want?” He raises his brows and she blinks; slightly taken aback by him not immediately answering with a yes.  

“Um, I don’t…know. What would we even do?” She takes a sip of water to appear indifferent to the entire situation. However, she’s failing miserably. 

“I mean, could think of a couple of things we could do…” he trails off with a smug grin, causing her to huff out a soft laugh. 

“Thought you didn’t hang out with Pogues?” She narrows her eyes at him, trying to figure out if he’s even taking this conversation seriously. 

“Yeah, well, guess I could make an exception. After all, you did help a Kook, so you’re not really a Pogue anymore, are you?”  

“Okay first of all, that makes zero sense and I only helped you, cause you were gonna kill me,” she states, lowering her tone towards the end.  

“Stop saying that shit, Puppy,” he hisses, looking around to ensure no one heard it. “Wasn’t gonna kill you, just needed you to listen, alright?”  

“Well, you could’ve been a bit more polite about it,” she rests her elbows on the table, tone accusatory.  

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? That what you want me to say? A lot was going on and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Sometimes it’s, uh, hard for me to control my anger and shit,” he mutters out the last part, as if it’s difficult for him to admit.

“Yeah, I figured,” she’s smiling now; her attempt at making him feel guilty going down the drain because him trying to defend his behavior for once, is sort of entertaining. 

A scowl covers his face at the realization that she’s merely trying to make him sweat for her own enjoyment. “You know, I still think I should’ve picked another house,” he grants her a lighthearted glare.  

“Yeah, me too,” she nods in agreement.  

And at the sight of her barely contained grin, he can’t stop his mouth from curling up as well; both of them quietly giggling at the entirely too bizarre of a situation, that for some reason, feels far too much like a first date.  

It’s almost as if they’re meeting for the first time all over again.

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 2/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! i hope u're liking the series so far <3 seems like persephone! suguru can't catch a break huh D: i wanted to highlight the same scene[s] from suguru's perspective, just to give him a lil depth :") if u want to keep up with the series more quicker, i highly suggest keeping up with the series on ao3 [for quicker updates ^^] thank you to my taglist for their support too :)

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

the drive to megumi’s school was unusually quiet. 

normally, toji would lean into his usual “cool, brooding single dad” act — just enough to avoid attention but keep an edge. but today, he’d done something weirdly out of character: asked you to tag along. 

not that he’d admit it was for any other reason than megumi, obviously. 

nope. definitely nothing else to it.

just… kinda nice having you along for the ride, right?

the two of you settled into his car, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how the radio was suspiciously off. toji didn’t give any explanation, but you were pretty sure it was a preventative measure to avoid another “iris” moment and the resulting accidental kiss. 

which, okay, was kinda cute.

toji tapped his fingers against the wheel, casting the occasional sideways glance at you before finally saying, “so… just curious.” he cleared his throat, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of the question. “what made you, uh… you know, want to write those books?”

you blinked. “oh, my books?”

“yeah, the… passionate ones.” he coughed, looking anywhere but at you. “like, what inspired you to write those… intensely worded stories?”

you laughed, caught off guard. “okay, first of all, ‘intensely worded?’ that’s one way to put it.”

“look, i’m trying to be polite,” he said, giving you a sidelong smirk that made your stomach flip. “but seriously. i mean, it’s a specific line of work. what got you into it?”

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling the familiar blush creeping up. 

“uh, well… honestly, i just thought it was something fun to try out. i like romance and, you know… writing what people connect with. people like the, um, more intense stuff, so… figured i’d give it a shot.”

he nodded, taking it all in. “huh. so, all that… stuff you write —” he paused, trying to phrase it carefully. “that’s from experience or…?”

you let out an awkward laugh, your face heating up even more. “not exactly. i… well, i actually haven’t… i mean, i’m still… y’know.” 

you cleared your throat. “a virgin.”

toji’s eyes went wide. 

“wait, you’re telling me… all that detail, the way you describe things, and you haven’t even…”

“nope.” you shook your head, biting back a smile at his shocked expression. “guess you could say i have a good imagination?”

he let out a low whistle, looking at you with something that was a mix of admiration and… something else you couldn’t quite place. “well, i gotta give you credit. you write it like you’ve, uh, lived it.”

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “guess it’s all about the research.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “research, huh? well, you’ve got some serious talent in the ‘research’ department then. i’d hate to see what you’d write if you actually… y’know, had the experience.”

“well, maybe one day i will,” you shot back, feeling a little bolder. “and then my books will be even better.”

he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “you’re something else.”

for a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. 

the tension was thick enough to cut, and toji looked like he was about to say something else when megumi’s school finally came into view. he let out a breath, the moment effectively broken as he focused on finding a parking spot.

but as you both waited for megumi to come out, you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through toji’s head… and if he was thinking the same thing you were.

the second megumi spotted you and toji at the school gates, he was off like a shot, running toward you with all the enthusiasm of a kid who’d been waiting all day to see his favorite people. his grin was wide, and his little backpack bounced as he bolted up. and to your surprise (and toji's too), he didn’t go for his dad first — nope, he ran right into your arms like you were his personal safe haven.

“you came!” he squealed, hugging you tightly around the waist as if he hadn't just seen you yesterday. you laughed, hugging him back just as warmly, and you could practically feel the teachers’ eyes drilling holes into your back.

“of course i did,” you said, ruffling his hair. “what, you thought i’d miss out on picking you up?”

“nope!” he said proudly, pulling back and grabbing your hand as if to make sure you wouldn’t vanish.

toji stood off to the side, his hands in his pockets, trying to hide his smirk as he watched the scene unfold. yeah, he wasn’t about to complain about you being here — not at all.

as you all made your way back to the car, you couldn’t help but notice a few teachers and parents exchanging knowing looks, no doubt remembering how toji introduced you as his “colleague” yesterday. they didn’t look too convinced anymore.

inside the car, megumi settled comfortably between the two of you in the backseat, clutching his backpack like he was about to embark on the world’s most exciting road trip.

“sooo!” megumi started, a mischievous look in his eyes. “did you two have fun while i was in school?”

toji let out a tiny cough from the driver’s seat, looking at you in the rearview mirror with a hint of a smirk. “megumi, what exactly do you mean by ‘fun’?”

“i dunno, daddy!” megumi rolled his eyes in that dramatic way only an eight-year-old could pull off. “you were smiling all morning! you never do that!”

you tried to hide a smile yourself, glancing sideways at toji. “he was smiling all morning, huh?”

toji shot you a playful glare before focusing back on the road. “you got somethin’ to say about that?”

“nope, nothing at all,” you replied, suppressing a giggle.

“you’re smiling too!” megumi added, turning his full attention to you with a face that was way too smug for a kid his age. “did you like being with my dad today?”

your eyes widened as you exchanged a quick look with toji. “well, yes, i had a great time working with your dad,” you said carefully, trying to dodge the landmine that megumi had unknowingly set.

“yeah, but did you and daddy, like, do anything else? like on tv?”

toji almost choked, and you couldn’t stop a laugh from slipping out. “megs! we just talked and laughed a bit, nothing like in the movies, promise.”

megumi looked skeptical, folding his arms. “then why are you both acting all funny?”

“what do you mean, ‘funny’?” toji asked, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

“like… i dunno, all shy and weird,” megumi huffed, his brows furrowing in confusion. “like when the kids at school talk about people who like each other.”

your cheeks were definitely heating up, and you could tell toji was trying not to laugh.

“sometimes people just… act like that when they’re really comfortable,” toji explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “not everything’s like it is on tv.”

“oh,” megumi said, though he didn’t look totally convinced. 

“soooo, when are you guys gonna have a playdate without me?”

“what?” you and toji both burst out at the same time, while megumi just grinned, proud of himself for catching you both off guard.

“you two look like you want more playdates,,” he added with a shrug, like he was the expert on the subject.

toji shook his head, laughing under his breath. “how about you let the adults figure that out, hm?”

“fine, fine,” megumi said, obviously pleased with himself. “but i wanna know when you guys have another playdate, ‘kay?”

you patted his shoulder, chuckling. “deal, kiddo. you’ll be the first to know.”

as toji pulled out onto the street, you settled back, sharing an amused look with him in the mirror. and as megumi continued his non-stop chatter about school, dinosaurs, and how he wanted both of you to come to his next soccer game, you felt that fuzzy feeling again — the same one from last night. maybe having these two around wasn’t so bad at all.

toji pulled up to his house, shifting into park before a sudden realization hit him like a freight train — you were still along for the ride. it was supposed to be a quick pickup, maybe a casual goodbye once megumi was dropped off, but here you were, in the passenger seat, smiling as megumi practically buzzed with excitement beside you.

"uh… so… yeah, this is… my place,” he said, scratching the back of his head, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. he wasn’t sure if he should invite you in or just wave goodbye with some half-baked excuse. 

but before he could even finish his internal debate, megumi had his own plans.

“that means you can come see my room!” megumi exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he threw open the door and scrambled out of the car.

“oh, i don’t wanna intrude —” you started, already moving to say goodbye, but megumi was way ahead, bounding up the steps and glancing back with an impatient wave.

“c’mon!” he insisted, practically dancing in place with excitement. “you gotta see my plushies and my legos! oh, and my origami stuff, and —”

toji opened the front door, and as soon as you were inside, megumi was by your side again, tugging at your hand with a grip surprisingly strong for a kid. “you gotta see everything!” he said, eyes gleaming.

“okay, okay!” you laughed, letting him lead the way.

toji watched, a little dumbfounded. he’d seen megumi excited before, sure, but this was a whole new level. “hey, uh, megs, maybe she’s tired. we don’t wanna overwhelm her, y’know?” he said, trying to sound casual and almost hoping you’d back out to save him from his own nerves.

“no way!” megumi protested, his voice emphatic. “she’s gotta see my dinos and my race cars and my drawings too! pleaseeee?”

“don’t worry, i think i can handle it,” you chuckled, shooting toji a reassuring look. 

he let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and… something else he really didn’t wanna unpack at the moment.

megumi practically dragged you down the hall toward what toji modestly called his “suite,” which was more like a sprawling kid paradise decked out in a swanky setup. it was undeniably luxurious — the kind of suite most people would call their whole apartment — but it was still a kid’s space through and through. plushies lay scattered around in a trail leading to the bedroom, where legos, crayons, toy cars, and origami creations decorated the floor in random bursts of color. every available surface was covered in megumi’s little projects and treasures.

“wow, megumi, you weren’t kidding!” you said, genuinely impressed. you walked over to a group of origami animals on his desk. “did you make all of these?”

“yep!” he puffed up his chest with pride, holding up a particularly crumpled paper crane. “this one’s my favorite. it didn’t come out great, but it’s special ‘cause daddy helped me with it.”

toji felt a funny warmth spread through his chest. he tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore seeing the two of you in his home, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“and here’s mr. wiggles!” megumi said, suddenly pulling over a massive, well-loved teddy bear that looked like it’d been through a hundred battles. “daddy got him for me when i was little.”

“mr. wiggles is a great name,” you laughed, crouching down to inspect the bear. “i bet he’s been on a lot of adventures with you.”

“yeah, he’s been to the doctor with me, and the dentist, and he helps me with my homework sometimes,” megumi explained with the seriousness only an eight-year-old could muster.

toji chuckled, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “he’s a busy bear, huh?”

“super busy,” megumi agreed, pulling you over to his lego city next. 

“this is where the ninjas live, and over here’s where the dinosaurs hide.”

“oh, and here i thought ninjas and dinos couldn’t get along,” you teased, glancing over at toji, who was doing a poor job at hiding his amusement. “you must be the peacekeeper, megumi.”

“i am!” he laughed, then suddenly looked up at toji. 

“daddy, can she stay for dinner?”

toji’s eyes widened slightly. he hadn’t even considered dinner yet.

but the thought of you here, in his space, a part of his evening routine with megumi… it felt way too good to resist.

“uh, well, if she’s got the time,” he mumbled, scratching his neck and pretending to be cool about it. “you don’t gotta stick around if you got other things.”

“actually, i’d love to stay, if that’s okay?” you said, glancing between them both.

toji tried to act casual, even though his heart was doing a little victory lap. “yeah, sure. why not?”

“yes!” megumi cheered, already running out the door. “i’ll get the table ready!”

“is he… always this excited?” you asked, turning to toji with a chuckle.

“not usually,” toji admitted, scratching the back of his head. “guess you got that effect on him.”

the three of you settled around the table, megumi proudly munching away on his ironman-themed plate, the red and gold colors a little faded from years of use. he shot you a grin, already halfway through explaining ironman’s latest mission to save the world… for the third time.

toji, meanwhile, sat across from you, feeling inexplicably fidgety as he set down the fine china he’d pulled from the back of a cabinet. he'd dusted off every inch of those plates — his mind still spinning with why he even bothered. 

he wasn’t usually one for this kind of thing, but when he saw how carefully you ladled the stew into the bowls, he couldn’t help but notice you gave that same care to megumi too, nodding along as he chattered away about his superhero theories.

“you know, daddy never gets the cool plates out for anyone else,” megumi piped up, completely oblivious to the faint flush creeping up his dad’s face.

“oh really?” you chuckled, raising an eyebrow in toji’s direction. “well, i feel honored then. i’ll try not to drop it.”

toji groaned internally, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “kid’s got a big mouth,” he muttered, shooting megumi a faux warning look, though his own ears were burning.

“you’ve got good taste, though,” you teased him lightly, glancing down at the pristine white china with intricate blue patterns.

“yeah, well… s’just plates. they’re old,” toji shrugged, hoping that downplaying it would erase any significance you might read into the whole situation.

“old but pretty,” you said, not looking up as you ladled some stew for megumi, who was eagerly waiting with his bowl stretched out. “here you go, megumi. i made it a little less spicy for you, just like you asked.”

megumi’s eyes sparkled as he accepted the bowl. “thanks! you make the best stew!”

toji watched as you smiled back at megumi, completely absorbed in whatever he was babbling about, offering little “uh-huhs” and “reallys” as he animatedly described his favorite ironman scene. watching you like this, giving his kid your full attention even while busy in the kitchen, felt so… weird. 

like something he didn’t realize was missing, but now that it was there, he couldn’t imagine going without it.

“and then ironman totally blasts the villain’s robot suit — kaboom!” megumi finished, flinging his arms wide as if to demonstrate the explosion.

“kaboom, huh?” you laughed, sitting back in your chair, clearly enjoying his enthusiasm. “sounds intense.”

“yeah! ironman doesn’t mess around,” megumi said with a sage nod, as if passing on some universal wisdom. “but he’s gotta protect everyone, even the people who don’t like him.”

“sounds like a pretty cool guy,” you mused, glancing over at toji with a small smile. “maybe you two have something in common.”

“oh, god,” toji groaned, but he couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips. “don’t give him ideas, he’ll think i’m gonna go fight crime or somethin’.”

“wouldn’t that be so cool?” megumi interjected, eyes sparkling. “you could be like… iron dad!”

toji rolled his eyes, but he caught the look on your face — amused, warm, like you were seeing a side of him that no one else really noticed. 

and for some reason, that was way too close to the truth for comfort. 

he cleared his throat, glancing down at his stew to avoid meeting your gaze.

“maybe i’ll just stick to keeping this kid in one piece,” toji muttered, but his heart was beating a little faster than usual.

and as megumi kept up his enthusiastic rambling, it all started to feel too cozy, too right. the clinking of plates, the soft warmth in the air, the way you didn’t rush megumi but let him take center stage as he shared his endless thoughts — it all blended together into something that felt like home, even if toji wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

as you reached for another spoonful of stew, listening intently to megumi’s latest story about his lego creations, toji realized that, yeah… this felt pretty damn right.

megumi clutched his book eagerly, eyes shining as he snuggled into bed, clearly over the moon that you’d agreed to stay for his bedtime story. he gave toji a serious look, announcing, “since daddy can’t do girl voices — cuz he’s a voicing actor, but he’s not that good — you gotta help with the girl lines, okay?”

“oh, yeah?” toji shot him a mock glare. “that’s a pretty big request, squirt. you sure i can’t just, y’know, growl like a tiger or something?”

megumi shook his head, adamant. “nope! you’re supposed to be the bear prince, and she’s the bunny princess! and then they meet at the river — just read, daddy.”

toji rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the faint smile as he settled in beside megumi, 

taking the book from his son’s hands. “alright, alright, let’s do this right. bunny princess and bear prince — sounds about as weird as it gets, but we’ll make it work.”

with megumi sandwiched between the two of you, you leaned over to see the page. 

“the bunny princess hopped through the forest, searching for her friend, the bear prince, who was known for his wisdom and strength,” you read in a soft voice, giving it your best princess tone.

megumi nodded, satisfied. “much better than uncle gojo,” he whispered to you in a conspiratorial tone, “his princess voice is just… weird.”

toji stifled a snicker, picking up the next line. 

“the bear prince, with his deep, growly voice, stepped out from behind the tree, saying, ‘i hear you’re lookin’ for a friend. well, look no further.’”

megumi giggled, clutching the blanket as he looked up at toji in admiration. “now that’s a good bear voice, daddy! you don’t gotta growl or nothing.”

you shot toji a playful look. “see? you’re already halfway to voice actor stardom.”

“sure, sure, as long as i don’t have to wear princess crowns, i think i’ll survive,” he smirked, giving the book back to you to read the bunny’s next line.

“‘oh, bear prince, i’m so happy to see you!’ the bunny princess chirped, hopping closer. ‘the forest feels so safe with you here.’”

toji took his turn, grinning. 

“‘that’s right, princess. stick close to me, and nothing can harm you — not even that pesky fox from the riverbank.’”

megumi, eyes already starting to droop, nodded in sage approval, mumbling, “bears are super strong…”

as the story unfolded, with each of you taking on your character’s lines, you couldn’t help but notice how megumi’s little body relaxed more and more, eyelids growing heavier as he listened to the tale of the bunny princess and bear prince’s forest adventure.

 finally, after you’d read the line where the bunny and bear bid each other goodnight under the stars, you heard megumi’s soft, even breathing.

you and toji shared a glance, both of you lowering your voices.

“looks like our audience conked out before the big finale,” you whispered with a smile, your voice barely above a murmur.

“heh,” toji chuckled, glancing at his son’s sleeping face. “usually he stays up longer, keeps asking for more.” he paused, watching you with a look that seemed to say more than his words. “maybe he’s just got a soft spot for princess voices… or maybe, you know, a good storyteller.”

a soft warmth settled in the quiet room, the gentle rise and fall of megumi’s breathing filling the space as you both stayed still for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell.

you stood up slowly from megumi’s bed, glancing down at the little guy, still out cold, his mouth slightly open as he clutched his iron man plush. the clock on the wall blinked “9:00 pm,” and your stomach sank a little — hadn’t you meant to leave hours ago? 

but when you made a quiet move toward the door, toji was right there, leaning in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you, uh, really don’t have to rush,” he said, almost nonchalant, though his gaze flicked over to megumi. “i mean, for his sake, y’know. wouldn’t want him freaking out if he wakes up in the middle of the night and you’re gone…”

“oh, of course,” you murmured, feeling a warm, slightly strange fluttering sensation at his words. 

“just… so he doesn’t get scared. yeah.”

you glanced down at yourself. god, what were you going to sleep in? your work clothes? 

toji seemed to read your mind, though, tilting his head a bit. “i think i got some old clothes you could wear if you want,” he offered, looking you up and down with that calm, appraising look that made you feel like he saw a bit more than he let on. “not the most fashionable, but they’re clean.”

“thanks, that’d be great,” you said, offering a small smile, and you turned to head toward the door to the guest room — then stopped. “wait… i think i left my phone on his nightstand.”

before you could overthink it, you turned back abruptly, intending to slip past toji back into megumi’s room. 

but somehow, in the dim lighting, the narrow doorway, the warmth of the moment… your face collided with his chest, and then, your lips met his, soft and sudden and all-consuming.

for a heartbeat, everything else fell away: the gentle ticking of the clock, the faint whirring of the a/c, even the warmth of megumi’s room. 

you felt nothing but the weight of toji’s lips against yours, the subtle intake of his breath as he seemed to register just what was happening. there was a moment of hesitation, and then his hand instinctively moved to your waist, pulling you closer with a soft, undeniable insistence.

his voice was a low whisper, barely more than a breath between you. “so… you were just gonna leave without even saying goodbye?”

for a split second, everything froze — the dim hallway, the soft, ambient sounds of the house, the fact that you were standing right outside megumi’s door, where one sleepy sound could catch you both. 

but that one breath against toji’s lips, so close, melted everything else away.

he didn’t pull back; if anything, his hold on your waist only tightened, fingers pressing just enough to send a warm ripple up your spine. his eyes met yours, slightly wide, as if he couldn’t quite believe he had you like this, so close. you could almost feel his heartbeat thrumming in sync with your own, and you let out a shaky breath, your lips brushing his again.

“this… is not what i planned when i came over,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out as your forehead touched his. “not — not in front of your kid’s room.”

“mm,” he whispered, gaze dropping to your lips, that barely-there smirk flickering across his face, “it’s a first for me too.” he held your gaze, his expression softening, something almost tender in his eyes as he raised his hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. 

“but if you wanted to leave… you would’ve pulled away by now.”

you bit your lip at the way his thumb lingered on your cheek, his breath warm against your skin, and before you knew it, your lips found his again. this time, it was slower, unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to feel the way his mouth moved against yours, soft and then a little firmer, as he seemed to lose himself in the moment.

he leaned into you, pressing you just slightly against the wall, his hand sliding from your waist up to the small of your back, drawing you close. the quiet was filled only with the shared breaths between you two, a quiet hum that passed between your lips, as if even the smallest sound might wake megumi just on the other side of the wall.

you found your hand on his chest, fingers curling in his shirt, pulling him a little closer, wanting to deepen the kiss even though every bit of common sense told you to stop. his lips parted, pressing small, lingering kisses along your lower lip, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back as though he was trying to savor every second. you were barely breathing, lost in the warmth of him, feeling him melt just a little against you.

“god, you’re making it hard to stop,” he murmured against your lips, his voice almost a growl but so quiet it barely even registered.

“i don’t think i want to,” you whispered back, eyes meeting his in the dim light. he held your gaze, his thumb tracing a soft line along your cheek, but he didn’t move away, staying close, his nose brushing yours in a way that was so tender you almost forgot how precarious this was.

you both laughed quietly, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that was more of a breath shared between you. toji glanced back at megumi’s door, and for a second, his face softened in a way you rarely saw, as if he couldn’t help but feel this moment was just a little forbidden.

“maybe we should… try this somewhere a little less dangerous,” he muttered, though he didn’t make any move to let go, his gaze flicking back to yours.

“you mean… like a first date or something?” you murmured, lips curling into a soft smile.

“guess i don’t mind a second kiss either,” he replied, brushing his lips against yours one last time before stepping back, the space between you suddenly feeling too cold, too quiet.

as he stepped back, the reality of the hallway — the very literal door to his son’s room right beside you — set in, but the warmth still lingered, and the smile he gave you as he walked you down the hall felt like a promise for something more, something you both couldn’t wait to explore.

the “boys night” at gojo-sonic’s swanky office was nothing short of its usual absurdity, with gojo dubbing it the “greatest tradition ever” as he practically threw around the “finest” sweet alcohol like it was candy. 

toji was there, albeit begrudgingly, mostly due to gojo’s persistence (“c’mon, you’re the only one who knows how to enjoy this premium stuff!”), and suguru joined from a dimly-lit zoom window, his face half-smiling, half-tired as he sipped on a glass of his own.

“missing out, suguru,” gojo teased, tilting back his drink. “oh, but thanks for the wine, by the way. nothing says ‘wish i were there’ like sending over a box of booze from you and your business partner.”

“oh, for heaven’s sake,” suguru muttered, though his smirk suggested he didn’t mind. “it was a halloween release. figured it’d keep you all happy and…unbearable.”

toji chuckled, swirling his glass and trying not to roll his eyes as gojo feigned offense.

“unbearable? me?” gojo put a hand over his heart. “if you actually joined us in person, you’d see i’m the highlight of this ‘boys night.’ it’s practically a public service, sugu-boo. oh, and shoutout to persephone for making it possible, of course.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re a real gift to mankind,” suguru replied, his tone deadpan, but his smile lingered as he took a sip. 

“so what’re you boys talking about? since i can’t be there to hear it firsthand.”

toji shifted, debating on whether or not he wanted to launch into the mess that had been swirling in his head all week. but with the alcohol settling in and gojo’s usual chatter as encouragement, it was hard to hold back. he sighed, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, looking anywhere but the screen.

“oh, just, y’know… kid stuff.”

gojo raised a brow. “kid stuff? you mean, how megumi’s practically obsessed with y/n?”

“please,” toji groaned, rubbing his temple. “that kid’s dragging her around like she’s his second parent.”

“sounds like he’s got good taste,” suguru noted with a grin, sipping his wine. “and from what you said last week, he’s already planning on keeping her around for life, huh?”

toji shot him a look through the screen, but he knew they were right. megumi was over the moon whenever you came around, from showing off every little toy he owned to making you part of bedtime stories. 

it was adorable, sure, but it made this whole situation way more… intense than he’d signed up for.

“kid talks about her all the time,” toji admitted, swirling his glass again. “like, even his teachers thought she was his mom or something. and she…well, she’s good with him. she’s damn good.” he looked down, a smirk tugging at his lips. “which, believe it or not, i didn’t expect when we first met.”

“ohhh?” gojo leaned in, that smirk of his spreading as he raised a brow. “and you? what did you expect?”

toji glanced away, that hint of a smirk still there, despite himself. “don’t make me say it.”

“oh, we’re making you say it,” gojo teased, sliding another drink his way. “so, you’re saying she’s…wife material?”

suguru nearly choked on his drink, and the way he was watching toji from the screen made it clear he wasn’t missing a second of this.

toji scoffed, taking a gulp to keep from saying anything too embarrassing. “she’s… special. hell, i didn’t plan on getting attached, and yet —” he paused, chuckling almost self-consciously. “i feel like a damn teenager.”

“and here i thought you were the king of nonchalance,” suguru teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji muttered, trying to shake it off. 

but the truth was, the second he was alone, he found himself thinking about you, about the way megumi’s face lit up when you were around, the way you just… fit into their little world without even trying. 

it was surreal. 

the damn wine probably didn’t help, either.

gojo slapped him on the back, clearly enjoying this way too much. “well, for what it’s worth,” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere, “megumi deserves someone good. and maybe you do too.”

toji rolled his eyes, but he didn’t bother denying it. if anything, he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope. 

that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t screw this one up.

gojo snickered, his smirk all-knowing as he raised his glass. “i’ve got it,” he said with way too much enthusiasm, the kind he only had when he was on the brink of embarrassing the hell out of someone. “toji, you and y/n could do a joint wedding with suguru and his ‘business partner.’ i mean, if suguru grows a spine and confesses, that is.”

on the other end of the zoom call, suguru’s smirk vanished as fast as it appeared, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “not happening,” he muttered, all but glaring at the screen. “it’s… complicated.”

gojo pouted, tilting his head in mock sympathy. “oh, come on. ‘complicated’? it’s not that deep. just throw her some wine, flash that tragic backstory, and she’ll be yours in no time.”

“it’s not that simple,” suguru snapped, though his face softened as he leaned back, sighing. 

“besides, we’re in… limbo, i guess. we’ve had our confessions, but there’s no label. not yet, anyway.”

“awww,” gojo teased, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. 

“look at us! a bunch of grown men, all hung up on love troubles. what happened to the days when it was just work, money, and some good old-fashioned ego trips?”

“those days are over,” toji grunted, crossing his arms as he glanced at the screen. “but you’d know a thing or two about those ‘ego trips,’ wouldn’t you?”

suguru let out a snort of laughter, finally letting himself relax a little. “and don’t forget ryomen sukuna,” he added, the name alone making everyone groan. “that bastard practically swooped in to turn our business lives upside down and make everything more… interesting. joint venture or not, the guy’s insufferable. he’s like a cat, always hissing and scratching his way to the top.”

gojo laughed, tipping his drink toward the screen. “tell me about it. it’s like everyone has a thorn in their side when it comes to love these days.” 

he smirked, nudging toji. “and you, my friend, are no exception. so when’s the confession, huh? are we waiting on some fairytale moment here?”

toji rolled his eyes, swirling the last of his drink. “i’m not confessing to anyone,” he grumbled. “i’ve got megumi to think about.”

“right, right, megumi,” gojo said, drawing out the name with a grin that was anything but innocent. “and here i thought you liked y/n for yourself.”

“and here i thought you’d shut up at some point tonight,” toji shot back, but his lips betrayed him with a faint, reluctant smirk.

suguru leaned forward, his voice softer. “well, at least megumi’s happy with her around, right? maybe… it’s worth taking a chance.”

toji’s smirk faded, his expression thoughtful. “maybe.”

“see?” gojo beamed, practically giddy. “love is in the air, boys. even for the most stubborn among us.”

suguru shook his head, a smile creeping back onto his face. “well, here’s to complicated feelings and maybe, just maybe, getting them right someday.”

they all raised their glasses, clinking to their shared madness in work, love, and everything in between.

you flopped back on your bed, barely able to keep the grin off your face as you hit the facetime button for shoko. she picked up after a few rings, a cigarette lazily dangling from her fingers, eyebrows raised as she took in your expression.

“uh-oh. what’s got you looking like that?” she asked, smirking.

you let out a giddy little laugh, immediately burying your face in your hands. “shoko, i swear i’m losing it. i’m a grown woman, but i feel like a teenager. it’s embarrassing.”

“this better be good,” she drawled, putting the cigarette to her lips and leaning back, looking every bit the part of the unimpressed but totally-invested best friend.

“okay, okay,” you said, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “toji kissed me. twice — by accident, both times. twice, shoko!”

she let out a low whistle, blowing out a plume of smoke. “so the ‘brooding single dad’ finally made his move, huh? you know, twice starts to sound less like an accident and more like he’s got a thing for you.”

you laughed, covering your face with your hands. “oh my god, don’t say that! i can’t even handle it. and he’s just… so close all the time. it’s like every time i turn around, he’s there.”

“that sounds terrible,” she said, rolling her eyes in mock sympathy. “a tall, ridiculously hot single dad, right up in your personal space. how are you surviving?”

you groaned, flopping back dramatically. “it’s not just that! i mean, megumi’s there too, and he’s the cutest kid. he loves me, shoko, i’m actually losing my mind. i feel like i’m part of their lives, and it’s… weirdly nice?”

shoko’s smirk softened a little, her gaze warmer. “sounds like you’re finally finding something real,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful. “i mean, not just with toji, but… you know, with people. gojo insisted you needed someone to keep you on track, but honestly, it sounds like you’re just finding your own way.”

“thank you for not thinking i’m insane,” you muttered, grinning at her.

“please, i’ve been waiting for something juicy like this to pop up in your life,” she replied, flicking some ash into an ashtray with a smirk. “so tell me everything — i want the full rundown on these ‘accidental’ kisses.”

you launched into the details, recounting the flustered stammering, the way you could hardly breathe when he got that close, how you felt like you were in some kind of slow-motion rom-com. shoko didn’t bat an eye, laughing in all the right places, raising her eyebrows at the moments you whispered, and shaking her head whenever you sounded downright ridiculous.

“y’know,” she finally said as you caught your breath, “if this is what being your manager is gonna be like, i might just be here for it. international author and all,” she teased, quoting gojo.

“i’m just glad i have someone who gets it,” you admitted, voice softer. “this is all new to me… the book success, this... love life thing.”

she gave you a small, knowing smile. “well, get used to it. sounds like there’s a lot more coming your way.”

the month flew by in a series of stolen moments that made you feel like you were the protagonist in one of your own novels. 

and, true to his nature, toji somehow managed to sneak in a kiss (or two, or three, but who's counting?) whenever he found you alone at the studio, away from gojo's incessant commentary, the other voice actors, and the wandering eyes of your new manager, shoko ieiri.

you still couldn’t forget that first almost subtle kiss, right outside the recording booth. 

you’d just handed him his revised lines, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours as he took the pages.

“y’know, you keep handing me all these steamy lines,” he murmured, voice dropping, his mouth way too close to your ear. “someone might think you’re just giving me an excuse.”

“i-it’s for the story,” you stammered, and before you could process it, he leaned down, catching you in a quick, teasing kiss.

“mm. very convincing.” he smirked, straightening just as someone walked by.

“toji!” you hissed, glancing around like a guilty teenager.

“what? i thought it’d help with the performance.” he gave you a half-shrug, that lazy grin of his making your pulse jump. “gotta sell the romance, right?”

then there was the time in the elevator after one of his late recording sessions. you’d been babbling about something mundane, trying to fill the quiet, but he wasn’t paying attention to your words; instead, he just watched your mouth. 

before you knew it, the doors slid closed, and he had you pressed against the mirrored wall, his mouth on yours, hands braced on either side of your head.

“you know,” you whispered breathlessly when you finally broke apart, “if shoko sees us, she’s gonna kill me.”

“good thing we’re alone then,” he murmured, not bothering to step back, his eyes dropping to your lips. “wouldn’t want her thinking you’re getting… distracted on the job.”

“me?” you managed, swallowing a laugh. “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!”

“maybe i’ll try harder,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your jaw in a way that felt anything but apologetic. “or maybe i won’t.”

of course, he didn’t. 

the next week, you’d been huddled over a script in the empty break room, reviewing edits from gojo. you barely heard him come in before he slipped up behind you, one hand casually planted on the table as he leaned over your shoulder.

“need any help with those lines?” he asked, voice low, right against your ear.

you barely suppressed a shiver, trying to focus on the paper in your hands. “i, uh… no. no, i think i’ve got it.”

“you sure?” he murmured, lips grazing your ear this time. “because i think i could add a little… flair.”

you turned, and his face was right there, too close to pretend this was anything but what it was. 

before you could tell him off, he closed the gap, kissing you slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world.

“toji,” you finally managed, pulling away, your face burning. “we are at work!”

he shrugged, utterly unbothered. “yeah, but no one’s around, are they?”

you glared, trying to look serious, but he just leaned back, smirking. “besides, i’d say that counts as research.”

“research?”

he grinned, eyes twinkling with a playful light. “gotta stay in character, right?”

every encounter was a tug-of-war between professionalism and… whatever this was. you couldn’t deny you looked forward to the thrill of these secret kisses, even though you spent half your day looking over your shoulder, waiting for shoko to round a corner and catch you in the act.

toji, on the other hand, was infuriatingly nonchalant. like he didn’t care if anyone saw — like he almost wanted to be caught. and he never missed an opportunity to remind you of that.

“so, what’ll it be?” he asked one afternoon as you tried to dodge his latest attempt in the hallway. “you gonna keep hiding from me? or are you finally gonna admit you like it?”

“i’m not hiding,” you replied, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

he laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “you’re a terrible liar.”

just then, footsteps echoed from around the corner. you froze, but toji just gave you one last teasing look and walked off, as if nothing had happened.

and maybe that was the worst part — no matter how many times he pulled you in, kissed you breathless, he could just walk away, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it all.

toji fushiguro, love-struck fool of the century. 

and he hated it. 

he’d scoffed his way through plenty of rom-coms, rolling his eyes at any lovesick protagonist with that stupid, half-dazed smile, lips still parted like they’d just been kissed breathless. 

he never thought he’d be one of them. yet here he was, pacing around his apartment, occasionally touching his lips like some starry-eyed teenager.

“you’re acting like a damn idiot,” he muttered to himself, brushing a hand through his hair, but even that couldn’t erase the lovesick grin creeping onto his face. he barely noticed his phone buzzing with the weekly roster of sugar mamas and daddies, all waiting for their weekly breadcrumb texts from him. hell, he even felt guilty about it now. 

because compared to you? they didn’t stand a chance.

case in point: a text popped up from mona, the one who liked to send him extravagant gifts just for existing.

mona [7:40 pm]: missed u this week. dinner on friday, baby?

toji squinted at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard, debating if he should even respond. yeah, he probably should. he sighed, cracking his knuckles before halfheartedly typing out a response.

you [7:45 pm]: kinda busy friday. rain check?

there. short and sweet. 

in a past life, he would’ve at least flirted his way out of it. 

but now? he couldn’t muster up anything more. 

god, you’ve got it bad, he thought, half-annoyed at himself as he imagined the smirk gojo would throw his way if he ever found out about this pathetic show of loyalty.

and speaking of the devil —

“toooji!” gojo sang as he slid into the studio the next day, obnoxiously loud.

“man, you’ve been… awfully serious lately. not a single call from mona? or was it alicia? both?”

toji barely glanced up, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “i’ve been busy. work.”

“work,” gojo echoed, eyes narrowing with a knowing gleam. “right. and what kind of work are we talking about? the kind that comes with a certain… author’s name attached?”

toji’s lip twitched, but he ignored him. he figured the less he reacted, the less ammo gojo would have.

“oh, come on!” gojo crowed, leaning over the soundboard with an irritating grin. “you really think i haven’t noticed? the lingering looks, the way you sneak off for like ten minutes every time she’s around. you’re a mess, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “i’m not a damn kid, satoru.”

“coulda fooled me,” gojo teased. “god, you look like you’re on the verge of a love confession every time i see you two. why not just go full rom-com mode and declare it in the rain or something?”

“shut your damn mouth,” toji muttered, feeling his ears heat. 

the idea had crossed his mind. he thought about it every damn time he saw you smile or catch his eye across the studio. 

and it was driving him insane.

“speaking of confessions,” gojo continued, not missing a beat, “heard you’ve been turning down… basically everyone these days. sugar mamas, sugar daddies — wow, your self-control’s really kicked in.”

toji groaned, half in frustration, half in something else. it was true. he hadn’t even looked at his inbox in days. 

just not interested, he’d told himself, ignoring how pathetic that sounded.

“oh, oh, oh, don’t tell me…” gojo grinned, the realization dawning on his face. “you’ve gone monogamous, haven’t you?” he snorted. 

“god, you’re whipped.”

“i’ll let you live if you shut up now.”

gojo snickered, unbothered. “what? i’m just giving you some friendly advice, toji. tell her already. do the whole romantic declaration thing. maybe some roses. oh, or better yet, just kiss her the way you keep fantasizing about.”

toji rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “fantasizing, right.”

“admit it, you’re lovesick,” gojo replied with a smirk. “how’s that feel, big guy?”

just then, his phone buzzed again, and he glanced down to see a new message from larry, one of his sugar daddies.

larry: fancy a weekend trip? all expenses on me, baby ;)

toji groaned and quickly sent back a “no thanks, busy,” before slipping his phone away. he looked up to find gojo staring at him, practically vibrating with amusement.

“see? whipped!” gojo announced, loud enough for half the floor to hear.

“keep it down,” toji growled, but he couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile off his face. he knew gojo was right, even if he hated admitting it. he was done pretending it wasn’t true. 

hell, he could barely go an hour without wanting to text you, wanting to see you.

“you don’t get it,” toji said, more to himself than gojo. “she’s… different.”

“oh, i bet she is,” gojo said, nodding like he understood. “now, are you gonna be an idiot and keep pouting like you’ve got something to say? or are you gonna tell her?”

toji didn’t answer, just glared at him before heading for the studio door. but he knew gojo was right. 

he’d run out of excuses, out of distractions. maybe it was time he did something about this ridiculous crush.

as he walked out, he could practically hear gojo’s smirk follow him. 

great.

toji could barely keep his heart from jumping out of his chest as he slipped the little origami ring into your hand, all smooth-like, muttering, “megumi made it for you.” 

but even as he said it, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, knowing damn well it was mostly his work.

he’d sat down with megumi, who, after a long day of being “helpful,” had finally agreed to show him how to fold paper into something that resembled a ring. and it hadn’t exactly been easy.

“so, kiddo,” toji had started, fidgeting with the corner of a bright blue square of paper. “think you can show me how to, uh… fold this thing into a ring? for… you know… someone.”

megumi squinted up at him, hands on his hips like a pint-sized supervisor. “for her, right?”

toji cleared his throat, looking away. “yeah. something like that.”

megumi snorted, already getting a bit too wise for his age. “you don’t even know how to fold paper, daddy?”

toji groaned. “it’s harder than it looks, alright? just show me how you do it.”

the kid just shook his head, exasperated, but started showing him each fold with careful, precise fingers. they worked through a couple attempts, most of which looked nothing like rings and ended up in the growing pile of crumpled paper on the table. 

it was late, and toji couldn’t remember the last time he’d concentrated this hard on something so… simple. why the hell am i doing this? he thought, glancing at the clock. 

he had work in a few hours, a whole recording schedule to plan for, and yet here he was, folding paper with his son.

“think she’ll like it?” toji asked, holding up one of the finished attempts.

megumi shrugged, but he looked oddly serious as he studied the makeshift ring. “i think she will. ‘cause it’s from you.”

something in toji’s chest squeezed at that, and he clapped a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “don’t go telling anyone about this, alright? not even your uncle gojo. especially not him.”

“why?” megumi asked, genuinely curious.

“because he’ll never let me hear the end of it,” toji muttered, trying to ignore how ridiculous he sounded even to himself. 

yeah, making a paper ring at one in the morning for someone? absolutely insane, but he couldn’t shake the thrill of it, of imagining you smiling when he handed it over.

so, fast-forward to now: the ring was in your hand, your fingers slowly unfolding to reveal it. you glanced up at him, eyes soft with a mix of confusion and surprise, and damn if he didn’t feel his heart do a backflip right then and there.

“he… made this for me?” you asked, voice quiet, almost disbelieving.

“yeah,” toji replied, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “thought you’d like it.” 

he rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the urge to look anywhere but at you, but he couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at your reaction.

you turned the ring over in your hand, a small smile tugging at your lips. “you sure it was megumi who made this?”

his throat went dry. “uh… mostly,” he admitted, feeling that warmth creeping up his neck again. “i might’ve… helped a little.”

“a little, huh?” you teased, eyes sparkling as you slipped the ring onto your finger. “so, is this, like… an official thing now? sealing the deal or whatever?”

toji felt his mouth go dry, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through him. 

he hadn’t planned on this meaning anything official — well, maybe he had, but he hadn’t exactly thought it through. 

yet seeing you wearing it, even if it was just a silly piece of folded paper, felt… right.

he shrugged, trying to keep his voice steady. “just thought you deserved somethin’ nice,” he said gruffly. “even if it’s… you know, paper.”

your fingers brushed his, a soft, barely-there touch, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. “i think it’s perfect, toji. no one’s ever… done something like this for me before.”

he felt his chest tighten, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing against his ribcage. 

all those dumb, sappy things he’d been feeling lately, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way he felt like a lovesick idiot every time you smiled at him. but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it, not yet. 

so instead, he settled for squeezing your hand, his thumb tracing a soft circle over your knuckles.

“good,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “’cause i don’t think i could stand it if you didn’t like it.”

you laughed softly, leaning into him, and he swore he felt the world narrow down to just the two of you, the faint rustle of the paper ring against your finger.

“guess i’ll have to keep it safe then, huh?” you murmured, looking up at him with that smile that made his heart do all kinds of dumb things.

“yeah,” he replied, voice low, unable to stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “yeah, you do.”

toji’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he spots you at the office, that damn paper ring dangling from your phone charm. his paper ring — okay, technically megumi’s paper ring, but still, the one he’d folded with his own hands. he’d thought you might just tuck it away in a drawer or something. 

but here you were, letting it swing around proudly like some priceless gem. he’s not gonna lie — his heart just about catapults itself out of his chest.

he’s doing his best to keep his cool, but the urge to grab you right then and there, haul you over to a quiet corner, and ask you out on a real date feels stronger than ever. propose even. 

god, if he wasn’t too far gone already.

“what’s that little add-on?” gojo’s smug voice cuts through the air, and you laugh, holding up your phone so the charm dangles freely. gojo squints, pretending he’s inspecting it, but there’s a glint in his eye. “who’s the secret admirer, huh? must be a serious romantic to give you something… hand-crafted.”

you shrug, grinning a little too wide. “oh, just… something someone special made for me.”

toji’s face heats up, and he tries to look busy adjusting his microphone levels. 

dammit, did you have to say it like that? he catches gojo’s gaze lingering on him, eyebrows raised. 

oh, he’s got an idea all right.

“hm, special someone?” gojo teases, nudging you, then pretending to look around the room as if your admirer might jump out from behind the studio wall. “wonder who that could be, huh?”

you shrug, pretending like it’s nothing, though you shoot a sly glance in toji’s direction. “maybe he’ll make a move someday. he’s pretty bold but… you know, takes his time.”

toji’s pulse hammers away like a damn drumline, and he clears his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “yeah, maybe he’s just… tryin’ to find the right time or somethin’.”

“aww,” gojo coos, looking between you and toji with a mischievous smile. “poor guy. wonder if he knows he’s got competition. think he can handle it?”

toji rolls his eyes, shooting gojo a glare. “ain’t nobody competin’,” he says, voice low but firm. “whoever this guy is… he’s got it handled.”

you laugh softly, the sound filling the room, and you hold up the charm, letting it dangle right in front of him as if it’s some sort of challenge. “think he’s ready to seal the deal?”

toji’s gaze flickers to the paper ring, then to you, and suddenly he feels this overwhelming urge to just… go for it. 

he could give you a real ring, sure, someday maybe, but there’s something about this little thing you’ve turned into a charm that makes it feel so much… bigger.

“actually…” he mutters, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “i was thinkin’… maybe i could take you out this weekend. just us.” he looks at you, eyes intent, and there’s a rare seriousness in his voice. “someplace nice. no studio, no interruptions.”

you blink, clearly a bit surprised, but your smile grows, softer now, almost shy. 

“are you asking me out, toji?”

he shrugs, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. “yeah. maybe… maybe i am.” he reaches out, tugging the charm lightly, letting it dangle between you. “figured it was about time we took this thing seriously.”

gojo bursts into laughter, clapping his hands. “ohhh, i knew it! all this sneaking around, and here you are, finally getting down on one knee — metaphorically, of course.”

you nudge gojo, laughing. “shut it, satoru.”

but toji doesn’t even hear gojo’s teasing anymore. all he sees is you, with that damn paper ring swinging from your phone, smiling at him in a way that makes his chest feel tight. 

and suddenly, the idea of getting down on one knee doesn’t seem all that far-fetched after all.

“so… this weekend?” he asks, his voice a little softer now, just for you.

you nod, still beaming. “this weekend,” you confirm.

toji, scrolling through your message with a slight frown, reads your rain check about having to edit your book draft instead of going out this weekend. 

he's in the middle of what can only be called a hurricane of preparation — megumi is zipping around the house, declaring he’ll help his dad look “very handsome” for his “playdate with the pretty lady.” in the midst of this, toji can’t even get a word in to explain that, uh, the plans may be changing.

princess [7:08 pm]: hey! i am SO sorry, but i may have to rain check today. i really thought i’d finish up the first draft of the dragon king’s sequel. but i got so behind, and now i have to edit this whole thing </3 you [7:09 pm]: can’t believe my competition is a bunch of words on a page, but…i get it.  you [7:09 pm]: any chance you could still use some company for that “editing?”

he’s barely finished typing his message when megumi tugs at his shirt, holding up a navy button-down that practically drags on the floor.

“isn’t this the one she likes, dad? wear this!” he says with a look that might as well be called “fushiguro persuasion.” toji chuckles, ruffling megumi’s hair.

“hey, buddy,” he says, crouching down to megumi’s level. “plans changed a little. she’s gotta work, so i’m going over there instead, alright?”

megumi narrows his eyes in the way only an eight-year-old can. “so... no fancy date?”

“nah, kid,” toji says, trying to sound casual as he rolls up his sleeves. “i’m just gonna keep her company while she works.”

megumi grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “so like, a home date?” he asks, with all the implications an eight-year-old can muster.

toji chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair. “something like that.” he gives megumi a quick fist bump. “hold down the fort for me, alright? i’ll be back before bedtime.”

and with that, he heads out, his heart pounding just a little too fast for his own liking. he’s ready to face you with a low-key offer: if you’ll allow it, he’ll stay in for a “working date” and keep you company, just the two of you, with no plans other than being there.

toji ^.^ [7:15 pm]: well, what if the mountain comes to you instead of you coming to the mountain? i’ll bring snacks and stay out of your way. i’ll even help you proofread if you need it.

your heart nearly stops when you see toji’s message, and you almost drop your phone… straight into your bowl of instant noodles. 

he wants to come over? to your place? 

you glance around your apartment, and it’s a scene straight out of a disaster movie.

there’s a pile of bills stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, all of which you’re waiting for shoko to graciously come sort through for you. right next to it is a mountain of pr packages you haven’t had a chance to open — typewriters from some luxury brand, fountain pens with gold-tipped nibs, notebooks wrapped in satin, and… is that your favorite set of lingerie drying on top of the lampshade?

“oh, god.”

you glance at the time and frantically calculate: how long would it take to clear at least half of this mess? 

no, scratch that. how long would it take to get yourself presentable? you rush to your room, tossing things left and right in an attempt to find something clean and comfortable, feeling your face heat up just imagining toji seeing your place like this.

you [7:17 pm]: are you sure you wanna come over? i’m warning you. it’s, uh, very lived-in here. toji ^.^ [7:20 pm]: hey, i’m not gonna judge. besides, how bad can it be?

you stare at his reply, chewing on your lip, and quickly text back.

you [7:21 pm]: imagine a tornado hit a bookstore you [7:21 pm]: and a clothing store you [7:21 pm]: and, maybe a warehouse full of typewriters and fountain pens. toji ^.^ [7:23 pm]: you know what? sounds cozy. i’ll bring some snacks and maybe a cleaning crew if necessary 😂

the doorbell rings before you could even realise, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. 

you’ve got a solid three seconds to take it all in: you’re wearing a three-day-old shirt that, if you recall correctly, was originally your dad’s from the 80s, your hair’s in a bun so messy it might as well be a bird’s nest, and there are bags of trash you’ve hastily crammed into every drawer within reach.

there’s no hiding the pile of unopened pr packages by the couch, though — one of which has a half-torn label boasting a “vintage, limited-edition typewriter experience.” right next to that, there’s a fancy pen set, still in its plastic wrap, resting on top of… is that a stack of half-eaten takeout containers? 

oh, god. why couldn’t you have had a warning before he showed up?

you take a shaky breath and yank the door open, plastering a smile on your face as if this is all completely normal.

"hey," toji says, looking you up and down with an easy grin. “lookin’ cozy.”

“uh... thanks?” you blurt out, mentally slapping yourself. cozy was definitely one way to put it. 

“come on in. sorry about the… ambiance. i wasn’t really expecting to have a, uh, guest.”

you step back, and he strides in, immediately taking in the organized chaos that is your apartment. his eyes linger on the tower of pr boxes and that unmistakable stack of overdue bills. he whistles low under his breath, clearly trying not to laugh.

"so, this is the writer life, huh?" he asks, picking up a typewriter package with a raised eyebrow. "fancy stuff. do you, uh… actually use any of this?”

“i try,” you mumble, crossing your arms defensively, though you can’t help smiling. “but the whole ‘starving artist’ vibe means these typewriters just end up as very expensive paperweights. which, ironically, i can’t even afford.”

toji laughs, setting the box down before glancing around again. his gaze falls on the lampshade, where your black lace lingerie is very prominently draped. you feel your face go hot as he smirks.

“i like the decor,” he says, nodding toward the lingerie with a wicked grin.

“oh, my god,” you groan, covering your face. “listen, i was not expecting company today, so please, feel free to avert your eyes.”

"nah, i think it's got… character," he teases, leaning in just a little too close. “besides, i don’t mind a little mess.”

"well, great, because this is as real as it gets," you reply, huffing as you try to look anywhere but at him. "you’re in the trenches now, toji.”

he chuckles, moving to pick up a crumpled, half-empty bag of chips from the couch. "hey, trenches i can handle. i’ve got an eight-year-old at home, remember? my place is an organized war zone on a good day."

you snort, still feeling a bit mortified. “and here i was thinking i could at least fake having my life together in front of you.”

“oh, please,” he says, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. “you should’ve seen me back in college. this? this is nothing. plus,” he adds, his voice dropping slightly, “it’s kind of… cute.”

cute. did he actually just call your disaster zone cute?

before you can respond, he grabs one of the unopened PR boxes and raises an eyebrow. “so, what’s in this one? wanna have an impromptu unboxing?”

“toji, i swear if you open that —”

“c’mon,” he says, grinning as he peels the tape back. “think of it as the highlight of our first ‘official’ homebody date.”

you shake your head, both amused and exasperated, watching him fish out an overly ornate fountain pen, which he holds up like it’s the holy grail.

“look at this thing,” he says, turning it over with a smirk. “you could probably sign million-dollar deals with this alone.”

“or, you know, sign off on all my overdue bills.” you laugh, unable to stay embarrassed. “go on, add it to the pile. it’s practically a landfill at this point.”

he laughs, setting the pen down and stepping closer, his voice low. “listen, i get it. my place might not have bills stacked up, but it’s full of… reminders that i’m a work in progress too.”

you glance up at him, and suddenly, all the embarrassment melts away. you’re in your messy apartment, standing in an ancient t-shirt with this man who’s managed to turn your chaotic night into something unexpectedly comforting.

"thanks for not… judging," you say softly, feeling yourself relax for the first time since he walked in. “i know i’m not exactly put together, but —”

“hey.” he cups your face with a gentle smile. “don’t worry about it. you’re perfect like this. messy, comfy, real.”

before you can stop yourself, you lean in, and he meets you halfway, his lips brushing softly against yours. it’s not hurried, not desperate. just… perfect.

it hits you about a second too late — you’re kissing toji in the middle of your apartment, clutching a bag of trash. oh god, and it reeks of stale mountain dew and monster. 

classy.

you pull back with a mortified look, though toji’s face is the exact opposite, his smirk spreading like he’s just unlocked a secret treasure.

“don’t stop now,” he murmurs, glancing down at the offending trash bag in your hand. “but, uh… maybe lose that first?”

“yeah, i think we’re past the first-date mystique at this point,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you chuck the bag towards the corner, praying it’s out of sight enough to ignore.

“oh, yeah, you’re really blowing my mind here,” he teases, chuckling as he takes in the apartment around you. “all the caffeine fumes, that questionable takeout smell. smells like home already.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, covering your face, because this man is about two seconds from making you combust. “i’m surprised you even wanted to stay for dinner after walking into this disaster.”

“well,” he says, trying and failing to look innocent, “you haven’t seen the other disaster i brought.”

you raise an eyebrow as he gestures to the counter, where multiple takeout bags are somehow all stacked up.

“toji, what is all this?” you blink, shuffling over to the spread.

“look,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “i couldn’t decide what you’d like, so i just… went with options.”

options is a gross understatement. 

there’s a bag from the local thai place with an array of curries and pad see ew, another filled with boxes of sushi, and an entire tray of tacos, complete with mini bottles of hot sauce. you spot a large pizza box (of course), and is that… baklava?

“uh, toji? are we feeding a small country tonight?” you laugh, bewildered. “what were you thinking?”

“honestly? wasn’t thinking. just grabbed whatever looked good,” he says, giving you a sheepish grin. “but c’mon, if you don’t like one thing, there’s a million others.”

you give him a look, half-amused, half-exasperated, but it’s endearing in a way only toji could pull off. who even does this?

“i mean, don’t get me wrong,” you say, nudging a pizza box to make space for the taco tray, “i’m glad you thought of all the options, but… what exactly were you planning for us to do with all this?”

he shrugs, coming up beside you to open one of the sushi boxes. “eat as much as we want, throw the rest in the fridge. ‘course, that’s only if you’re not gonna make me eat it all myself.”

you snort, imagining him single-handedly tackling all of it. “if you can handle it, be my guest.”

he leans in close, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “oh, i can handle it.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re grinning like an idiot. “god, you’re impossible.”

“hey, you invited me over,” he says, opening a little container of wasabi and gesturing for you to try a piece of sushi. 

“besides, i figured it’s a good way to cover all bases. what if you didn’t like tacos? or pizza? or… god forbid, baklava?”

you can’t help laughing as you pop the sushi in your mouth, appreciating the deliciously over-the-top effort he put into this. “for the record, i love all of it. but you, on the other hand, have a questionable appetite if you thought this much food for two people was necessary.”

“trust me, if this is what it takes to keep you happy, i’ll bring twice as much next time,” he says, dead serious.

“oh no, please, i don’t think i can handle that.” you give him a look, incredulous. “i’ll end up eating myself into a food coma, and then what? you gonna carry me to bed?”

“well,” he says, leaning in again with a devilish grin, “i wouldn’t mind. but i was thinkin’ more along the lines of a movie marathon to work off the calories.”

“movie marathon and food coma?” you raise an eyebrow. “toji, you’re dangerously close to making this a slumber party.”

he shrugs, his face playful but there’s something softer in his eyes. “would that be the worst thing?”

you feel a flutter in your chest, something that almost surprises you with how much it settles you. here he is, surrounded by mountains of takeout and your chaotic apartment mess, looking like this is exactly where he wants to be. 

it’s… kinda nice.

“alright,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “you win. let’s have the weirdest, most food-filled homebody date ever. just, uh, ignore the mess. and don’t laugh at me if i pass out halfway through a movie.”

“promise.” he raises a hand, eyes glinting with humor. “cross my heart.”

the two of you start to dig in, laughing as you make jokes about how this is probably the strangest spread of food you’ve ever seen. every now and then, he’ll steal a quick kiss when he thinks he can get away with it, and you’re reminded just how much this man has wormed his way under your skin.

you’ve got no idea where this is going, but, staring at his smirk as he attempts to down an entire taco in one bite, you kinda hope it’s somewhere good.

the two of you stand side by side at the sink, the remnants of your feast sprawled across the counter. you’re scrubbing a particularly stubborn pan when you decide it’s the perfect time to hand toji the aux.

“alright, mister fancy chef,” you say, smirking as you pass him your phone. “you get to choose the soundtrack for our post-dinner clean-up. no pressure.”

“oh, no pressure at all,” he deadpans, scrolling through your playlist. you catch a glimpse of the mischievous grin creeping onto his face as he lands on an old favorite.

the unmistakable intro of dancing queen by abba fills the kitchen, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

“seriously? this? right now?” you laugh, a mix of amusement and embarrassment bubbling inside you.

“hey, don’t knock it till you try it!” he shoots back, raising his hands as if to defend his choice. “it’s a classic. plus, it takes me back to that night at the bar when you were all... well, you.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “i was a mess.”

“yeah, but you were a cute mess.” he chuckles, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the compliment.

as the upbeat tune plays on, you both start washing the dishes, swaying your hips to the rhythm. 

“you can dance, you can jive…” the lyrics echo through the air, and toji’s energy pulls you in. 

you catch him glancing at you with that smirk again, and the way his eyes light up makes your stomach flutter.

“just imagine,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye, “the two of us back at that bar. you, all over the place, and me just trying to figure out how to survive the night.”

you laugh, feeling nostalgic. “yeah, and then i somehow managed to puke all over your shoes.”

“my favorite shoes,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes, but there’s a playful warmth in his tone. “but, honestly? worth it.”

the song builds, and you’re both lost in the moment, laughter and soap suds flying everywhere.

“see that girl, watch that scene…”

“how did we go from that night to this?” you ponder aloud, glancing at him. “i mean, here we are, washing dishes and dancing to abba.”

“it’s an upgrade he says, giving you a lopsided grin. “you know, from drunken disasters to… kitchen romance.”

“romance?” you raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

“oh, come on,” he says, stepping closer, the teasing slipping away from his tone. “there’s definitely something romantic about this. a pair of idiots like us, sharing this weird, beautiful mess.”

you can’t help but blush, your heart racing as you take in the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “digging the dancing queen…”

“you know, if this song gets stuck in my head, i’m blaming you,” you quip, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment.

“good luck with that,” he chuckles, moving even closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now. 

“night is young and the music’s high…”

his fingers brush against yours, the innocent touch sending sparks up your arm. the beat continues, your breaths getting heavier as the song builds up to the chorus. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine…”

you’re both staring at each other, and suddenly, the kitchen feels too small, too charged with the electricity of the moment.

“toji…” you start, but the words die on your lips as he leans in, his intent clear.

“just one kiss,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth lifting in a seductive smile. “for old time’s sake.”

before you can reply, he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours with a gentle yet insistent pressure. 

it’s like a scene from a movie — the soft warmth of his mouth against yours, the playful scent of the takeout wafting around you, the soft glow of the kitchen light illuminating his features.

you melt into him, heart racing as you kiss him back, losing yourself in the moment. the lyrics of the song seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you — the world outside disappearing entirely. 

when you finally pull away, both of you breathless, there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. 

“wow,” he breathes, still holding your gaze. “i think i like this new tradition.”

you chuckle, still buzzing from the kiss. “yeah, who knew washing dishes could be so… eventful?”

“well,” he says, leaning in closer again, voice low and teasing, “we haven’t even finished the song yet. you ready for round two?”

you’re half-dazed, your heart racing as you sit on the kitchen counter, toji’s arms caging you in, keeping you close. dancing queen continues to play in the background, but all you can focus on is the warmth radiating from him and the way his breath mingles with yours.

“you have got to stop making these kisses a regular thing,” you tease, half-heartedly trying to sound serious, but the playful glint in your eyes gives you away.

“especially when i’m propped up on my kitchen counter like this,” you add, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but you can’t help but smile as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“liar,” he laughs, a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. “if you didn’t like it, you would have pushed me away, not this.” he gestures to your legs around him, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the warmth spreading through your cheeks. “okay, fine. maybe i’m a little into it,” you admit, and his grin widens, satisfaction dancing in his eyes.

“a little?” he echoes, raising an eyebrow, his hands tightening around your waist. “you’re a whole lot more than a little, and you know it.”

the cheeky banter flows easily between you, and as you gaze into his eyes, you realize just how much you’ve come to enjoy this — the closeness, the warmth, the undeniable chemistry crackling in the air.

“you know, it’s a bit unfair,” you say, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. “here i’m trying to be responsible and not let you distract me, and yet…” you trail off, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

“and yet,” he finishes, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “here i am, being irresistible.”

“definitely not irresistible,” you say, feigning indignation. but the way your heart races gives you away again.

“oh, come on,” he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “who else do you know can kiss you while washing dishes?”

you laugh, shaking your head, and the movement sends a wave of giddiness through both of you. “you might be right about that one,” you concede, biting your lip.

the song transitions into another upbeat section, and toji shifts his weight slightly, nudging your legs apart just enough to step closer, creating a tighter cocoon of warmth between you. 

“so, what now?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave, the playful tone replaced with something more serious, more intimate.

“what now?” you echo, feeling the tension shift slightly, the air thick with possibilities. “we could, um… finish washing dishes?”

“how boring,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything else, he dips his head down, capturing your lips again in a slow, lingering kiss that makes your head spin.

this kiss is different — softer, more explorative, as if he’s savoring the moment, the taste of you lingering on his lips. you respond eagerly, forgetting all about the dishes, the mess, everything else fading away until it’s just the two of you.

when you finally break apart, breathless, he grins down at you, that charming smirk making your heart flutter. “that’s what i’m talking about,” he says, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“toji, we really should —”

“don’t say it,” he interrupts, shaking his head with an exaggerated look of horror. 

“don’t ruin the moment with responsibility. just… let’s enjoy this.”

you can’t help but laugh again, the tension between you easing as you lean back against the countertop, your heart racing in a way that feels undeniably good.

“enjoying this, huh?” you murmur, running your fingers through your hair, still feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“yeah,” he replies, that charming smile still plastered on his face. “just two people enjoying a perfectly normal evening — you know, singing abba, eating takeout, and making out in your messy kitchen.”

“the most normal thing ever,” you agree, rolling your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile that breaks across your face.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, his expression turning slightly more serious. “how about we make this a regular thing? you know, minus the messy kitchen. maybe my place next time?”

your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, and you find yourself nodding before you can think twice. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “but for now, let’s get back to the dishes, dancing queen.”

“fine, but only if you promise to keep playing abba,” you reply, giving him a mock-serious look.

“deal,” he chuckles, and as you both start scrubbing the remaining dishes, the music playing softly in the background, you realize you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

toji walks into his house, the dopey grin plastered across his face like he just won the lottery. 

his heart feels light, still buzzing from the night with you, and he’s practically floating as he kicks off his shoes and heads to the living room. 

he stops dead in his tracks when he sees gojo sprawled on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a look of sheer mischief on his face.

“what the hell are you doing here?” toji asks, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as he can’t help but grin back.

gojo lifts the bottle in a mock toast. “just your friendly neighborhood babysitter, here to keep an eye on megumi,” he says, glancing over to where megumi is sound asleep, sprawled on the floor with a gaming console still clutched in his tiny hands. “figured i’d check out your bar situation while i was at it.” he gestures to the empty bottles lined up on the table. “you know, for quality control.”

toji rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the chuckle escaping his lips. “you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he says, moving closer.

gojo leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a grin spreading across his face as he studies toji’s expression. “but seriously, you look like you just got off cloud nine. spill. what happened?”

toji’s grin widens even more, and he can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling giddy. “you’re not gonna believe this,” he starts, plopping down on the couch next to gojo, who leans in closer, eager for the details. 

“it was… well, it was amazing.”

“amazing? now you’re really making me curious!” gojo presses, his eyes sparkling with interest. “tell me everything! every little detail!”

toji glances back towards the sleeping megumi, suddenly feeling a bit shy about sharing all the intimate details. “okay, okay. so, we were just supposed to have dinner, but it turned into this whole thing.”

“dinner? boooring. give me the juicy stuff!” gojo teases, waving his hand dramatically. “i want the scandalous details! were there kisses involved?”

toji feels his cheeks flush, and he can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all feels. “yeah, there were some kisses… and then we ended up washing dishes together, and somehow —”

“washing dishes? how romantic!” gojo interrupts, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as if he’s been mortally wounded. “you’re a true romantic, toji.”

“shut up!” toji retorts, laughing harder now. “but it was nice, okay? we were just… comfortable with each other, you know? and then we ended up kissing while the song was playing.”

“which song? was it a love song? was it dancing queen?” gojo leans in closer, eyes wide with excitement. “tell me you two were blasting abba and getting all lovey-dovey!”

“yeah, actually!” toji can’t help but laugh again, the memory flooding back. “we were. it was so ridiculous, but it felt so right at that moment.”

“ridiculous how?” gojo presses, leaning back with a smirk. “were you two dancing around the kitchen like a couple of high-schoolers?”

“pretty much,” toji admits, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “i mean, it just happened, and i couldn’t help myself. i’ve never felt like this before.”

gojo raises an eyebrow, leaning back with a knowing smirk. “so, what you’re saying is that you’re head over heels for y/n? you’ve gone soft on us, toji.”

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” toji says, trying to sound annoyed but failing as he can’t help but feel giddy about it all. “but i think this is different. she makes me feel… i don’t know, like i’m actually living instead of just existing?”

gojo’s expression softens slightly, nodding in understanding. “that’s deep, man. i’m genuinely happy for you. but seriously, how did you go from makeouts to dinner to feelings so fast?”

“honestly? i have no idea,” toji shrugs, still riding that high. “but it just felt natural. like we were meant to do this.”

gojo is quiet for a moment, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“damn, it sounds like you really like her.”

“like? it’s more than that, i think,” toji admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’ve never let myself feel this way about anyone, and now i can’t stop smiling like an idiot.”

“good. you should let yourself feel,” gojo says, his tone lightening again. 

“just don’t forget you’re still my bro and not some mushy romantic lead in a romcom.”

toji snorts. “right, because i’m so good at playing it cool.”

“exactly,” gojo grins. “now, what’s the next step in this romance novel? are you going to take her out on an official date, or are you just going to keep sneaking kisses in her kitchen?”

toji thinks for a moment, that dopey grin returning. 

“i want to take her out. something special. not just a random dinner but a real date.”

“awww, look at you being all suave!” gojo teases, clapping him on the shoulder. “i’m actually proud of you, man. just don’t screw it up.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” toji rolls his eyes but can’t help but feel encouraged.

“now, let’s celebrate your new relationship status! i say we finish off the rest of these bottles and toast to your love life!” gojo suggests, already grabbing for another bottle.

toji chuckles, shaking his head. “you’re going to end up getting us both in trouble, you know that?”

“who cares? tonight’s all about you, my guy! let’s make some bad decisions!” gojo grins, and as toji laughs, the two of them settle in for a night of ridiculous stories and plans for the future — the dopey grin still plastered on toji’s face.

the day of the audiobook launch dawned bright and buzzing with excitement at gojo-sonic, and the atmosphere was electric. employees and investors milled about the sleek, modern venue, the air filled with chatter and the faint sound of clinking glasses. 

it was a low-key affair, but the anticipation crackled like static electricity in the air. you were among the few chosen to celebrate this moment, standing on the cusp of something big.

you had spent hours getting ready, and with shoko’s help, you looked stunning in your gown. it was a flowing number that hugged your curves just right, accentuating your figure while allowing you to move with grace. your hair was styled in soft waves, framing your face perfectly, and your makeup enhanced your features without overshadowing them. you caught glimpses of yourself in the reflective surfaces, a wave of pride swelling in your chest as you realized just how much effort went into this moment.

toji, on the other hand, was a mix of nervous energy and utter admiration. dressed sharply in a tailored suit, he felt a blend of pride and anxiety as he watched you mingle with the guests. but the moment his eyes landed on you in that gown, his body betrayed him. 

a rush of heat shot through him, and before he could even think, there it was — a very real, very embarrassing hard-on that he scrambled to cover up.

“shit, not now,” he muttered under his breath, cursing himself for being such a damn cliché. he quickly shifted his stance, pretending to adjust his tie as he tried to focus on anything other than the vision of you in front of him. 

like a decent man should, right?

“toji! you okay?” gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts, a smirk creeping across his face. he was leaning against the bar, a glass of something strong in hand, eyeing toji with amusement. “you look like you just saw a ghost.”

“i’m fine,” toji snapped a little too quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “just… adjusting my suit.” he gestured wildly, trying to deflect the attention away from his embarrassment.

“uh-huh. sure,” gojo replied, barely hiding his laughter. “just keep it together. we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone, especially her.” he nodded subtly towards you, who were now laughing with suguru, your charm radiating like a warm glow.

toji shot him a glare, a mix of irritation and amusement battling for dominance on his face. “thanks for the reminder, genius.”

the event continued, and you were seamlessly blending into the crowd, engaging in conversations with stakeholders and employees, your confidence shining through. 

when you shared a laugh with suguru, toji couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly charming you were. why the hell can’t i just say something nice instead of standing here like an idiot?

“there she is,” toji mumbled to himself, catching a glimpse of you as you made your way to the makeshift stage for the speeches. he admired how you carried yourself with such poise, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement. and in that moment, he was utterly captivated.

as you stepped up to the microphone, a hush fell over the crowd. 

“thank you all for being here today,” you began, your voice steady and clear, filled with warmth. “this launch means so much to me, and i couldn’t have done it without all the support from my friends and family. especially from those at gojo-sonic, who believed in this project.”

toji watched you intently, his heart swelling with pride. this was your moment, and you were absolutely shining. 

but as you spoke, he felt that familiar urge to approach you, to wrap his arms around you and tell you just how incredible you looked. 

but no, he stood rooted to the spot, reminding himself of the conversation they had before about maintaining a professional facade.

“and of course, a huge thank you to my amazing voice actor, toji fushiguro,” you continued, and the crowd erupted into applause, pulling him back into reality. the sound sent another rush of heat through him, and he felt like he was about to explode — both from embarrassment and pride.

“that’s me,” toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. gojo was right beside him, clapping exaggeratedly with a teasing grin. “you’re gonna have to give her a proper compliment after this, you know?”

“yeah, yeah,” toji grumbled, still flustered as he tried to focus on your words instead of his growing embarrassment.

when you finished your speech, the crowd cheered, and you stepped down, a satisfied smile on your face. 

you caught toji’s eye, and for a moment, the world faded away. he could see the joy radiating from you, and all his earlier doubts slipped away.

“toji!” you called out, your eyes sparkling. “what did you think?”

“you were amazing,” he said, finally finding the courage to step forward. “really. you owned that stage.”

“thank you,” you replied, your cheeks slightly flushed. “i was nervous, but it felt good to share this moment with everyone.”

as you spoke, toji’s heart raced. he leaned in closer, his voice lowering as he added, “and you looked absolutely stunning, too.”

“oh? just stunning?” you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“okay, maybe breathtaking,” he admitted, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. 

“and just so you know, i had a minor… situation back there, thanks to how beautiful you looked. so, you know, just keep that in mind.”

your laughter rang out, the sound warm and inviting, making toji forget all about the earlier embarrassment. he realized that whatever the two of you had going on was something he wanted to cherish, something worth pursuing.

and as the night continued, surrounded by the buzz of celebration, toji felt a sense of hope blooming in his chest — this was just the beginning.

as the excitement of the launch continued to swirl around you, suguru approached, a wide smile lighting up his face. 

“there you are! i was beginning to think i’d have to drag you out from behind that mic,” he teased, wrapping you in a warm hug.

“suguru! thanks for coming!” you beamed, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “it means a lot to me.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, stepping back to take a look at you. “and wow, you look incredible. seriously, how do you pull off that look?”

gojo chimed in, practically bouncing on his heels. “it’s like she stepped out of a freaking fairytale, right? she’s basically a model now. i’m just a guy over here trying not to ruin the vibe.”

shoko smiled, her eyes soft as she observed the camaraderie. “you all did great tonight. it really was a wonderful launch.”

toji stood slightly apart from the group, hands shoved into his pockets, watching the dynamic unfold. he was proud of you and knew you deserved this moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being on the outside. seeing you laugh and joke with suguru and gojo tugged at something deep inside him, a mix of admiration and protectiveness that made him feel a little more possessive than he expected.

“so, what’s next for you?” suguru asked, leaning in closer, his tone genuine. “another book, or are you taking a break?”

“a bit of both, actually,” you replied, glancing at toji. “i want to explore some new ideas, maybe branch out a little.”

just then, a lecherous-looking man stepped into the conversation, an air of arrogance radiating off him. 

“well, if it isn’t the famed author herself,” he sneered, a condescending smirk plastered on his face. “i have to say, it’s impressive how you’ve managed to carve out such a niche for yourself.” “free-use woman, is that what they call it? quite the career choice, huh?”

the moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted. toji's heart raced, a cold wave of irritation washing over him. he could feel his jaw clenching as he shifted his weight, bracing himself for whatever would come next. 

the man had no idea what he was stepping into.

gojo’s expression darkened, his casual demeanor evaporating. “who the hell do you think you are, talking to her like that?” he snapped, stepping in front of you protectively. “you’re clearly out of your depth.”

shoko frowned, her eyes narrowing at the man. “that’s incredibly disrespectful. you should apologize right now.”

suguru, leaning closer to you, was already assessing the situation, his gaze piercing. “it’s brave of you to come here and talk to her, but if you think you can just waltz in and make those kinds of comments, you’re sorely mistaken.”

toji felt a surge of possessiveness overtake him, and he stepped forward, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “listen, buddy, you don’t get to come here and treat her like she’s some sort of object. she’s worked hard for everything she has, and you’re just jealous that you’ll never get anywhere close to her level.”

the man scoffed, clearly unfazed, but the looks on the faces of gojo, shoko, and suguru sent a wave of intimidation over him. “oh, what? you’re one of her little fanboys now?” he mocked, trying to play off the tension.

“she’s not just some girl for your amusement,” toji replied, his voice low but full of intensity. “if you can’t see that, then you don’t deserve to be in the same room as her.”

you were taken aback, a mix of shock and warmth flooding your chest at toji’s fierce defense. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen in this context, and it made your heart race. you quickly interjected, trying to defuse the situation. 

“it’s okay, really. i don’t mind —”

“no,” suguru cut you off gently but firmly, glancing back at you with concern. “you shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of trash talk. you’re better than that, and we’re here for you.”

“yeah,” gojo added, his expression serious. “this guy doesn’t know who he’s messing with. just because you think you can get away with it doesn’t mean you should.” he turned to the man, a fire burning in his blue eyes. 

“i’d suggest you leave before things get ugly.”

the man’s bravado faltered, and he hesitated, clearly weighing his options. 

“whatever, man,” he spat, finally backing away, a look of disdain on his face. “i didn’t want to talk to you losers anyway.”

as he walked off, toji felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was mingled with something else — something like pride for you and his friends, who had stood up for what was right. 

he turned to you, catching your eye. “you alright?”

you nodded, still processing what just happened. “yeah, thanks. i didn’t think he’d go that far.”

“he’s a fucking idiot,” toji replied, shaking his head. “you deserve better than that.”

“you all really stood up for me,” you said softly, feeling gratitude swell in your chest.

“of course we did,” shoko replied, her expression warm. “we’re your friends, and we’ll always have your back.”

toji stepped a bit closer, and for a moment, the noise of the event faded into the background. “just remember that,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “you’re not alone in this.”

and as the night continued, surrounded by friends who cared deeply for you, toji felt a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated, realizing just how much he wanted to protect that warmth — protect you.

the event wrapped up smoothly, but leave it to gojo to suggest a “girls day out” to celebrate – the “girls” in question, of course, were all of you.

“come on!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing as you all filed out of the venue. “a little lunch at this fancy new place! i already reserved us a table. trust me, you’ll love it.” he flashed that signature grin, one that sparkled with both charm and mischief.

“i thought you called this a girl’s day out?” toji raised an eyebrow, looking mildly exasperated. “you’re delusional if you think i’m your girl, gojo.”

gojo only smirked, looping his arm through toji’s despite his attempts to shake him off. 

“toji, honey, everyone’s my girl,” he teased. “besides, i knew you’d say yes deep down.”

“keep telling yourself that,” toji muttered, though a small smirk betrayed his amusement.

suguru shook his head, amused, as he watched their dynamic. “sometimes i think we enable him too much.”

“you definitely do,” shoko chimed in, already lighting a cigarette as you walked along. “but at least lunch on gojo’s tab makes it worth it.”

soon enough, the five of you strolled into the swanky restaurant, where the hostess greeted gojo with a wide smile. “right this way, mr. gojo,” she said, leading you all to a secluded table with an impressive view.

gojo waited until you all took your seats before he threw himself down, stretching out like he owned the place. “order whatever you want, my treat!” he announced, flashing a grin at the menu. “the foie gras here is to die for.”

“you’re ordering foie gras?” you raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-horrified.

gojo shrugged, feigning innocence. “what? it’s delicious.” he turned to toji. “you’re in, right?”

toji gave him a dry look. “i don’t even know what that is, gojo.”

suguru snorted into his drink. “you’re so cultured, toji.”

toji rolled his eyes, shoving a breadstick into his mouth with exaggerated indifference. “as long as it’s not something gojo personally cooked, i’ll eat it.”

gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his heart. “you wound me! i make a mean ramen!”

shoko raised an eyebrow at him. “instant ramen doesn’t count, gojo.”

as you skimmed the menu, suguru leaned over to point out some of the more “normal” dishes. 

“i’d stick to these if i were you,” he chuckled. “unless you’re ready for gojo’s idea of exotic.”

“good call,” you replied, grinning. “i’m not trying to eat anything that still has a face.”

just then, gojo noticed a seafood platter being served at a nearby table, and his eyes lit up. “oh, look at that! who’s in for oysters? fresh from the coast, or so they say.”

toji grimaced, pushing the menu away. “you’re kidding, right? i don’t eat anything slimy.”

gojo wagged his finger at him, smirking. “toji, you’ll never know the finer things in life with an attitude like that.”

“if the finer things in life involve slimy food, count me out,” toji retorted, crossing his arms.

you couldn’t help but laugh, catching suguru’s eye. he shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. 

“some things never change, huh?”

“yeah, especially gojo’s tastes,” shoko muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

as the food finally arrived, the table was soon filled with laughter and stories, everyone swapping tales about work, life, and everything in between. gojo, unsurprisingly, dominated the conversation, though he was more than happy to playfully drag each of you into his stories.

“and then, get this,” gojo laughed, his shoulders shaking. “i convinced the poor guy i was a psychic! he walked around with a ‘cursed’ amulet for a week before he realized i was just messing with him.”

“i don’t understand how anyone falls for your crap,” toji said, shaking his head, though even he was hiding a smile.

“it’s a gift,” gojo replied smugly, before winking at you. “isn’t that right?”

“oh, definitely,” you replied dryly. “a gift and a curse.”

“mostly a curse,” shoko agreed, patting gojo’s shoulder.

after a few rounds of drinks, everyone had relaxed into the easy camaraderie, passing dishes and laughing as gojo continued his dramatic retellings, complete with hand gestures and questionable impressions.

“so, toji,” gojo leaned over with a sly grin, “how’s… life?”

toji eyed him, wary. “life’s fine, gojo. what are you getting at?”

“nothing!” gojo held up his hands innocently. “just curious about your… extracurriculars.”

toji rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as shoko smirked, clearly entertained by toji’s suffering.

suguru leaned in, murmuring to you, “you think he’ll make it through the whole lunch without snapping?”

you laughed softly. “he’s holding up pretty well, all things considered.”

as dessert rolled around, gojo ordered a massive platter of sweets “for the table,” though everyone knew he’d end up eating half of it himself.

“i swear, if you finish all those eclairs before i even get one…” toji warned, eyeing gojo.

gojo winked, already reaching for a plate. “too slow, toji! if you want something, you’ve got to seize it.”

“yeah? you wanna see me seize it?” toji reached over, snatching an éclair from gojo’s hand in one swift move.

the entire table burst out laughing, gojo’s indignant look only adding to the humor. it was one of those rare moments where everything felt right, like you were all in sync, just enjoying each other’s company.

as you leaned back in your chair, watching everyone banter, you felt a warmth settle in your chest. these were the kinds of moments you’d remember – the laughter, the shared jokes, the way each person’s personality filled the room in a way only they could.

it was a good day. 

and somehow, you had gojo’s “girls day out” to thank for it.

“suguru! where are you going?” gojo called, laughing.

suguru gave a halfhearted smile. “just… need to take this.”

you watched him go, a flicker of concern starting to build when minutes passed with no sign of his return. eventually, you excused yourself, hoping everything was alright.

turning the corner, you found him leaning against the wall, head down, shoulders tense and shaking slightly. the quiet sound of his breath catching, his barely-contained sobs – it was like a punch to the chest. 

suguru geto never cried.

“suguru?” you whispered, not wanting to startle him.

he looked up, his face streaked with tears, a raw, vulnerable expression you’d never seen. he quickly tried to brush it off, rubbing his eyes. “you shouldn’t… see me like this,” he muttered.

your heart clenched as you stepped closer. “hey, i’m your friend. you don’t have to hide from me.”

he looked away, swallowing hard, his voice strained. “it’s… her. she made her choice.” he took a ragged breath. “she doesn’t love me. she’s with someone else now.”

you felt your stomach twist at the pain in his voice, at the way his composure was unraveling before you. you reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his shoulder. “suguru, i’m so sorry. i know how much she meant to you.”

he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“i thought we had something real, you know? i thought… i thought she’d see me the same way.”

“you loved her,” you murmured, feeling his anguish like a weight pressing on your chest. “you gave her everything. sometimes people… they just don’t see what’s right in front of them.”

“maybe it’s me,” he choked, clenching his fists. “maybe i just wasn’t enough.”

you took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough. she just… didn’t see it. it doesn’t mean you aren’t worth it.”

his face crumpled, and for a moment, he was silent, holding onto you like you were an anchor keeping him from sinking. 

“i feel so… empty,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

“let it out, suguru,” you said gently, wrapping your arms around him. “you don’t have to carry this alone.”

he leaned into your embrace, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to regain control. you rubbed soothing circles on his back, feeling each tremble, each heartbeat, sharing in the quiet vulnerability of the moment.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you right now,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“you don’t have to,” you replied softly. “i’m here. you’ll be okay, suguru. even if it takes time.”

as you comforted him, you didn’t notice that toji had also come looking for you. he’d been watching the hallway, glancing at his watch, wondering what was taking you so long. 

a knot of worry twisted in his stomach, his mind flashing back to the earlier incident – that sleazy man at the event who had tried to approach you.

what if something happened again?

when he turned the corner, the sight he found stopped him cold. 

you, hugging suguru, holding him so tightly, your hand stroking his hair as he buried his face into your shoulder.

a strange, hot flare of jealousy surged up in his chest. 

his jaw clenched as he stared at you, his fingers twitching with the urge to do… something. here was suguru, wrapped up in your arms, his pain visible and raw – but still.

 toji couldn’t help the spike of resentment. why did it have to be suguru you were comforting?

why couldn’t you hold onto him like that?

his fingers tightened around the edge of his jacket, his thoughts spiraling. he knew he had no right to feel this way, knew suguru was hurting – but the sight of you so intimately close, your gentle words he couldn’t quite hear, only made his jealousy deepen.

his eyes narrowed as he kept watching, trying to ignore the twinge of vulnerability he hadn’t expected. why did he care so much? he gritted his teeth. 

but when you finally looked up, catching sight of him, his expression was unreadable, masked beneath a carefully controlled look. there was a subtle stiffness to the way he held himself, and his gaze flickered briefly to suguru before settling back on you.

“toji…” you said softly, surprised to see him there.

he crossed his arms, giving a slight nod in suguru’s direction. “everything alright?”

“yeah,” you replied, glancing at suguru, who gave a faint nod, still wiping at his eyes. “just… a hard day.”

toji’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, though his expression remained guarded. “you’re a good friend,” he murmured, barely audible, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words.

you offered him a small smile, sensing the underlying tension. “just doing what anyone would.”

toji’s gaze lingered on you a little longer, his jealousy ebbing slightly, though a part of him still ached to be the one you held so tightly, the one you’d stayed for so long just to comfort. 

but he pushed the feeling down, knowing that tonight, suguru needed you more.

suguru excused himself to rejoin the table, likely gravitating toward satoru, who knew more about his heartbreak than anyone else there. that left just you and toji standing in your little corner, tucked away from the bustling restaurant.

he was looking at you with that smirk of his, the kind that had you already feeling flustered, but determined not to give him the satisfaction. he took a casual step forward, slipping his hands into his pockets, and leaned in close, voice low and almost playful.

“so… what’re you doing over here, all alone with me?” he drawled, eyes trailing slowly from your eyes down to your lips.

before he could say anything else, you raised an eyebrow, folding your arms. 

“you mean, other than watching you try to pretend you weren’t sporting a hard-on for half the event?”

the teasing grin on your lips was unmistakable, and his reaction was instant. toji’s expression flickered, a hint of surprise in his eyes, followed by an intense gleam as he chuckled under his breath. “oh, so you noticed that, huh?”

“noticed? please,” you scoffed, keeping up your confident front even as he closed the space between you with slow, measured steps. “how could i not? it was right there.”

“guess you were too busy looking at me to focus on anything else,” he replied smoothly, his voice dropping a little lower. he leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours, breath warm against your skin. “maybe i should’ve been paying more attention to you instead.”

your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let it show. 

“well, now you know better,” you murmured back, voice challenging. “maybe you should’ve acted on it then, instead of waiting until now.”

he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”

“only if you can handle it,” you shot back, the thrill of the back-and-forth sparking something between you two.

his eyes darkened, and before you knew it, he had one hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand braced against the wall by your head. 

“you think i can’t handle a little challenge from you?” he murmured, his lips so close they nearly brushed yours.

you swallowed, but kept your cool. “if you could, you wouldn’t be hesitating.”

“trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth, “when i’m done with you, you won’t be the one running your mouth.”

before you could come up with a retort, his lips were on yours, firm and demanding, as if he’d been waiting all night to finally do this. you couldn’t hold back a soft gasp as he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding up to cradle your face while his other gripped your waist tightly, pressing you up against the wall.

your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, clutching him as he took full control of the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with a fierceness that left your head spinning. he groaned softly as he pressed his body closer, one hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingers grazing over the soft fabric of your dress.

“you like getting me all worked up, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with that smug edge that made you shiver. “can’t get enough of teasing me, huh?”

“maybe i do,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly as he bit down on your lower lip, sending a spark through you. “but it’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

he chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“yeah? what’re you gonna do about it?” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you really think you’re in control here?” you asked, voice challenging even as he continued to press you into the wall. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re the one who can’t resist me.”

“careful what you say,” he warned, his tone thick with restrained desire. “i’m this close to dragging you out of here and making you eat those words.”

your heart raced, and even though you were half-tempted to keep pushing him, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having him this close, his hands roaming over you, his lips brushing down your neck. you let out a breathless laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as you tugged him closer. 

“then maybe you should quit talking and show me what you’ve got.”

he didn’t need any further invitation. his grip tightened on you, his mouth covering yours in a heated, almost punishing kiss that left you breathless. his hands roamed over your body with a hunger that was practically palpable, every touch igniting a new spark. 

he was practically devouring you, his breath coming faster as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you deeply, thoroughly, like he wanted to leave his mark.

“god,” he murmured, voice husky, “you’re driving me insane.” he leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense. “you really wanna keep pushing me, huh?”

you smirked, your own voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i just like seeing what you’ll do about it.”

on the outside, you were holding your ground. confident smirks, playful retorts, the whole act. but on the inside? 

you were freaking the fuck out. 

here you were, basically mimicking every female lead you’d ever written, pulling from their limitless reserve of sass and self-assuredness to somehow keep pace with toji's relentless flirting. each comeback, each smirk — it was like a mental pep talk to channel all those characters who’d never break a sweat in this situation.

but… oh god. what if things actually got hot and heavy? 

you were standing there, going toe-to-toe with toji of all people, and it hit you — you were completely out of your depth here. this was not your usual flirting, the teasing banter you’d half-heartedly perfected through fictional dialogue. 

this was real.

and suddenly the thought crept in like an alarm bell: you might actually have to… gn?

your eyes widened a fraction as you tried to keep your cool. 

gn. 

get naked, not even good night — although, maybe a good night after the get naked part, if you even made it that far without spontaneously combusting. 

your mind raced, frantically scrolling through every bedroom scene you’d ever written, but realizing none of them really prepared you for this. 

oh my god, you panicked inwardly, just because i write smut doesn’t mean i know what to do when i’m the one gripping the sheets!

“what, cat got your tongue?” toji’s voice interrupted your internal spiral, his smirk widening as he traced a thumb across your cheek, dipping dangerously close to your lips. “not so confident now, are ya?”

you forced a grin, cursing the tremble in your fingers as they clutched at his shirt. 

“oh, please, like i’m nervous,” you shot back, mentally crossing every finger and toe that your voice didn’t waver. 

inside, though, you were a swirling mess, praying he didn’t catch the slightest tremor. 

fake it till you make it, right? 

only problem was, the longer he looked at you, the more he seemed to see right through you.

his eyes narrowed just a little, his smirk shifting into something… softer, a touch more considerate. you wanted to think he’d be gracious, that he’d at least slow down, but no, there was something else in his gaze. maybe a flicker of understanding? 

no, that was too generous.

he was toji.

and as if he could sense your hesitation, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. 

“relax, princess,” he whispered, his tone softer, maybe even gentle. “we can go as slow as you want. besides…” his lips quirked up into a teasing grin. 

“don’t think you’re getting out of this without admitting how much you’re enjoying it.”

relax? yeah, right. 

your heart was doing backflips, your mind racing through every possible move you’d probably never have the courage to pull off. he had you right where he wanted you, and you couldn’t stop the blush rising to your cheeks. 

oh god, you thought desperately, please don’t ask me to make the next move.

just as you were bracing yourself to somehow manage to keep up this charade of confidence, toji’s phone vibrated between you, cutting the tension with a blaring ringtone. and of all people, it had to be gojo. you glimpsed his name flashing on the screen right as toji picked up, rolling his eyes before pressing the phone to his ear.

“what, satoru?” toji sighed, clearly irritated at the interruption.

“toji! man, hurry up and get back here!” gojo’s voice screeched through the phone, loud enough for you to hear the dramatic urgency. “we’ve got a very, very depressed mr. geto here who’s having the existential crisis of the century. we need all hands on deck, and yes, that means you too. and preferably sober, mind you. no drinks this time! none.” 

gojo's voice dropped, muttering something about “banging y/n later if you have to,” but you both caught it.

toji gave you a side-eye smirk, shaking his head at gojo’s predictability, before letting out a sigh. 

“fine. but you owe me one, big time.” and with that, he ended the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

before you could even tease him about the abrupt change of plans, he leaned in and gave you a sharp smack! on the ass, grinning at the way you jumped. 

“guess we’ll have to put this on hold, princess. duty calls.” with a wink, he took your hand, leading you back toward the table.

it was gonna be a long night.

back at the table, the scene was…well, not what you’d expected. 

suguru looked rough. 

he sat slumped in his chair, swirling a glass of water (gojo had made sure of it) with a far-off stare that looked like he was seeing into another dimension. gojo and shoko were positioned on either side of him, each with their own ineffective tactics.

“c’mon, sugu, it’s not the end of the world,” gojo said, nudging him with a grin that looked a bit too forced. “i mean, i never liked her anyway. you deserve way better than —”

“she was amazing,” suguru cut him off, his voice flat but tinged with emotion. “you wouldn’t understand, satoru.”

shoko sighed, patting his shoulder. “she wasn’t that amazing. she had weird fashion taste.”

“and didn’t she correct you on every little thing? constantly?” gojo added, crossing his arms with a small smirk.

suguru gave them both a look, unamused. “i liked her fashion sense. and i didn’t mind the corrections.”

toji leaned back in his seat, giving you a subtle eye roll. 

this was what you’d come back for. 

he sighed, then leaned forward, slapping a hand on suguru’s shoulder. “you know, sulking isn’t gonna help anything. maybe it’s time to get back out there, stop dwelling on someone who clearly didn’t value you.”

suguru let out a tired sigh, and gojo jumped in, eyes lighting up. “exactly! there are plenty of people who’d be thrilled to date the great suguru geto!” he gestured around the room as if a fan club might spontaneously form right then and there. 

“you’re smart, you’re talented —”

“and single,” shoko added dryly, sipping her drink with a shrug.

suguru slumped lower, clearly unconvinced. “i don’t want to be single,” he muttered. “i wanted her.”

you winced at the defeated tone in his voice, exchanging a helpless look with toji, who looked equally unsure what else they could say to help. 

gojo, though, was not one to give up. he clapped his hands, as if a brilliant idea had just struck him.

“okay! new plan,” he declared, leaning in with an almost manic enthusiasm. “you’re going to go out with us this weekend. all of us. no work, no responsibilities — just a wild time. we’ll find you a nice rebound —”

suguru glared. “no, thanks.”

shoko groaned, propping her chin on her hand. “well, i’m out of ideas. anyone else?”

you took a deep breath, deciding to give it one last shot. 

“maybe…you don’t have to forget her completely, but maybe you can focus on what made you happy outside of her. like, remember what you love doing?”

suguru looked at you, as if considering the thought, but then slumped back. “it’s not the same,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just…not the same.”

gojo groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “i swear, you’re worse than me on my worst breakup day. someone call for reinforcements because i think we’re gonna need a miracle worker for this one.”

the table fell quiet, everyone glancing at suguru, who looked as defeated as ever, and it hit you that maybe tonight, there really wasn’t a solution.

one month later, the dreaded wedding invitation arrived, dropped unceremoniously on suguru’s desk. it was embossed in gold, the bride and groom’s names announced in elegant script, and just looking at it made his chest tighten. this was her wedding — the woman he’d once thought he’d spend his life with, now celebrating a future with someone else.

gojo’s reaction was immediate, bursting out in an exaggerated laugh when he saw the invite on suguru’s desk. 

“are you kidding me? she’s really inviting you? that’s low, even for her. come on, suguru, you’re not actually thinking about going, are you?”

suguru just gave a small smile, almost serene in the face of it all. “actually, i think i might.”

gojo gaped. “what?! dude, they’re practically rubbing it in your face! it’s like sending a ‘ha-ha, we’re in love, and you’re not’ postcard.” 

he crossed his arms, scowling at the offending piece of cardstock. “this is the most tasteless thing i’ve ever seen.”

shoko, who was nearby, raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “maybe she didn’t mean it that way, satoru. maybe it’s her way of being considerate, keeping suguru involved as a friend.”

gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “oh please, you don’t invite your ex to your wedding, especially if you broke his heart. she should be thrilled he’s not cursing her name in three different languages.”

but suguru only shook his head, calm as ever. “it’s not like that, satoru. we’ve both moved on, in our own ways. i don’t hold it against her. she chose what makes her happy, and if that’s someone else…well, then i wish her the best.” he shrugged lightly. “i don’t see any point in being bitter about it.”

gojo stared at him, as if seeing an entirely different person. “you’re joking, right? this is not you. the real suguru would’ve burned that thing or at least made a snarky comment about her dress being too ‘last season.’”

suguru laughed, an easy, relaxed sound that caught them all by surprise. “that’s exactly it, satoru. i don’t want to be that guy anymore. i’ve spent enough time with those feelings. they’re…exhausting. if going to this wedding gives me closure, then why not?”

gojo looked like he was about to combust. “closure? closure is just a fancy word for ‘let me put myself through hell for no reason.’ honestly, suguru, you’re giving her too much credit. she’s the one who ditched you, remember?”

suguru tilted his head, offering gojo a gentle but pointed look. “maybe it’s not about her anymore. maybe this is just about me.” his voice was calm, but there was a certain finality in it, as if he’d already come to terms with everything.

gojo, meanwhile, huffed and crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “well, i think it’s ridiculous. she doesn’t deserve any more of your attention.”

suguru sighed, but there was a faint smile on his lips, as if gojo’s dramatics were somehow endearing. 

“satoru, not everything is a personal insult. people make choices. sometimes they’re not the ones we wanted, but that doesn’t make them wrong.”

gojo let out a long, exaggerated groan. “you’re way too good for this world, suguru. like, way too mature. no one deserves you. i’d be sending her a glitter bomb or something, just for the hell of it.”

shoko chuckled, patting gojo on the back. “maybe you should take a lesson from suguru. not everyone has to nurse their ego through every breakup.”

gojo snorted, still glaring at the invitation like it had personally offended him. “fine, go ahead and be the bigger person, suguru. but if you even think about bringing me as your plus-one, i’m causing a scene.” 

he folded his arms defiantly. “i’m talking upstaging the bride type of scene.”

suguru’s smile widened, genuine and peaceful. “noted, satoru. but i think i’ll be alright.”

and in that moment, watching suguru handle what should have been a painful reminder with quiet dignity, even gojo’s bluster faded just a bit. sure, he might think suguru was handling it all wrong, but deep down, he couldn’t help but admire his friend’s strength.

tag list is open, comment if you'd like to be on it <3 [ @lemonlimecrystal-blog @mypashionisforfashion @crocodilethesir ] produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[with-my-calamitous-love]

heyy i just found your blog and read your stuff about touya/dabi and i actually love all of that, do you write headcannons too? because your way of playing dabi is so unique and canon. if you do i was thinking about his s/o being part of the LOV, like last joined. thank u so much if you’re gonna take it!!

yes i can! hope this is what you imagined non 💌 thank you for the love

DABI HEADCANONS !

touya tdrk x reader

headcanons for his s/o being apart of the league with him

not inspired by a particular song :(

- touya definitely doesn’t bat you match of an eye when you first join. he figures that everyone has their reasons for joining the league. you don’t get in the way of his, and he won’t give a rats ass about yours.

- it was never apart of his plan to care about someone the way he cares about you. he’s the type to care but show it in small ways. he gave you his coat once when you came back from the pouring rain, and claimed he didn’t want to hear any annoying coughs or sniffles from you the next day.

- you confuse his heart and he hates it. you two find yourself on some rooftop, talking about your reasons, your life and how you ended up here. you fully expect him to be an asshole- and he is- shrugging and telling you that thats how life is. but he also has enough grace to tell you that you didn’t deserve it, and that part he means.

- one day, you come back injured, small burns from a certain flame hero that certainly catch his eye. he crudely drags your arm over to the nearest sink, running your burns under cold water and bandages them. he makes sure to specify for the nonstick, sterile bandges after he’s applied a damp cloth to your injuries. he claims its because he hates the smell of burnt flesh, and knows you probably take shit care of yourself. (much to your chagrin.)

- the answer was simple. dabi gets burned by his own quirk, so he knows how to take care of burns. but something in your gut told you it was a lot deeper than that. the way this asshole cared for your injuries seemed more personal. it takes a lot of contemplation, and you fully expect a jerkass response when you ask him how he knows how to do this.

- he scoffs, and gives you the reaction everyone would have expected before he answers with something simple: “..my mom taught me.”

- in a small way, he’s shown you a side of him you never thought to see. and its the start of something beautiful.

hope you liked this anon! i’ll definitely be expanding on this idea in the future 🤍 thank you for the love

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[zorrasucia]

Congrats on 300💕 & thank you for your fics

Sooo many prompts that it’s hard to choose, but these spoke to me, but whatever inspires you most:)

Carmy x reader

❛ say you want me, and i’m yours. ❜

❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜

❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you. ❜

Hi, Anon! Thank you for reading 💜🥺

I chose ❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you❜ for a established relationship Carmy x Reader phone sex moment 😉 I hope you like it!

"Hey."

"Carmy," you replied sweetly. You had rushed to call him as soon as you read his text. are u awake? "Can't sleep?"

He let out a sigh. "Long day."

"Bad day?" you asked.

"Busy. And everyone was acting like a fucking asshole, even me. Especially me," he confessed. In the background you could hear the tattletale crack of aluminum foil and plastic as he popped some chewing gum.

"Trying to quit smoking again?"

"Always," he mumbled.

"Are you actually trying to quit for your palate and whatever or are you avoiding Richie?"

"What do you mean?" he replied a little defensively.

"Well, you usually talk with him during your smoke breaks. And... I don't know, he understands you. Maybe you don't want that right now," you guessed.

There was a long silence as Carmy took in what you said.

"How do you do that?" he asked abruptly.

"Do what?"

"See through all my bullshit," he explained. "I didn't even- I mean holidays are the worst and he'll definitely talk about Mikey at some point and how I didn't come home enough-" he paused. "I just don't want to feel like that again, you know?"

"Maybe talking with him can help," you said. "Maybe he feels like shit about it too. You both miss him, right?"

"Yeah..."

"You can't avoid him forever, Carm."

"I know," you heard him sigh. "Fuck, I miss you."

"Miss you too, baby," you replied softly, lying back on the bed of your childhood bedroom. "It's only a few more days."

"Are you having a nice time?" he asked gently.

"Yeah, it's, uh... Holidays with family are always a little weird, right?" you shrugged. "Got you a present, by the way."

"Yeah?" you could hear his smile.

"Yeah. Top secret," you giggled. "I also bought lingerie on discount - I don't know if that counts as a present for you or for me."

"Fuck," Carmy sighed again. "I already said I miss you. You don't need to say shit like that."

"There's a long weekend coming up," you appeased him. "We can make up for lost time."

"There's so many things I wanna do to you," he rasped.

"Yeah?" you tried to hide just how flustered his voice was making you. "What kind of things?"

"Fuck, baby..."

You could picture him laying on the couch, head over the armrest, blushing.

"Come on, I want to know," you encouraged him, you could only hear static for a little while. "It'll be fun. Like a wishlist but sexy," you teased. "I can touch myself while you tell me."

He coughed - you had taken him by surprise. You had surprised yourself too to be honest, but it was exciting and oddly liberating to only listen to him, the way his voice and breathing betrayed his emotions.

"You're going to kill me one of these days," he said after he recovered from his coughing fit.

"You don't sound too upset about it," you commented. You didn't pressure him - if he wanted to forget the whole thing, you'd let him.

He took a deep inhale. "I- uh- I wanna eat you out."

You let out a shaky exhale, a familiar warmth in your belly as you thought of Carmy between your legs.

"How?"

"I want you to sit on my face..." he said.

"Fuck, Carmy," you inhaled sharply, your free hand going into your underwear, touching your folds and finding them damp already. "I would love that. Fuck. Your tongue always feels so good on me."

"The way you taste. Fuck," he panted. Was he touching himself too? "I always end up with my face covered in you. My chin, my nose..."

"I love when your nose- Fuck, I think about it for days. Just your pretty nose making me shake and moan," it was so easy to tell him embarrassing truths when your fingers were playing with your clit, making you roll your eyes.

"Jesus," Carmy groaned. Oh, he was definitely touching himself. "I'll make you cum like that. I want your thighs shaking around my face. I want to hold you with both hands while you ride me, use me."

"Fuck," you moaned, your pussy clenching once around your middle finger, the heel of your hand pressing on your clit.

"What do you want, baby? What do you want to do to me?" there was an urgency to his voice. You liked him like that, a little needy.

"I want to touch your cock, make you feel good with my hands-" you said, putting a second finger inside you and moaning.

"Yeah," he was breathing heavily into the speaker.

"I want you to beg for it, Carm," you confessed. "I want to make you feel so fucking good and stop right before you cum. Just keep going until you can't take it anymore."

"Holy shit," he gasped. "And then? After I beg?"

You started fucking into your hand, writhing on the bedsheets.

"After you beg, I'll give it to you," you said simply, hearing as Carmy groaned lewdly. "Let you fuck me however you want, as hard as you want. You can cum as long as you cum inside me."

"Shiiiiit," he keened and the sound took you right over the edge, pussy fluttering around your fingers as he let out low grunts. You pictured him, face red and hair sweaty, eyes glazed and8 breathing heavy, ropes of cum painting his stomach. You sighed, feeling electricity all over, a gentle warmth caressing your skin.

"Fuck," Carmy exhaled on the other side of the line. "You meant that?"

"Yeah," you let out a nervous laugh. "You?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"I think we have our weekend planned out, then."

[hard-core-super-star]

could you write kate missing reader's birthday party ?? pls and thank u

-💜

i bet it stung [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: kate tries her best to be there for everyone but sometimes, she messes up.

warnings: angst with happy ending; mutual pining, friends to lovers; kate's a mess but she's trying her best; allusions to sex + mentions of hickeys; NOT proofread

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: HEY GUYS! i've been spending most of my time working on polishing vampire!kate and trying to figure out an upload schedule for new chapters BUT i suddenly got hit with inspiration to tackle this request and now it's here. i actually really liked how this turned out, sorry to the anon who requested this because it took me a RIDICULOUS amount of time to write it 😅 as always, thanks for the love, support, and patience. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You didn't want to think the worst of your best friend.

You wanted to be kind and patient and understanding and not give her the silent treatment like she deserved. But what else were you supposed to do after she broke yet another promise to you?

Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were being overdramatic, or maybe you had a damn good reason for feeling so disappointed.

It wasn't the biggest deal in the world, you knew that, but that didn't stop you from wanting to shut down and hide in your room. You couldn't do that, though, since you were still in the middle of your living room, celebrating your birthday.

Well, celebrating is putting it nicely.

It's more like you're sitting on your couch, surrounded by people who know and love you, and trying to act like your heart isn't sinking down into your stomach and making it churn with something akin to anxiety. What's bothering you isn't anxiety, though.

It's the fact that Kate looked you right in the eye and promised she would be there before the end of the night. Your birthday wasn't exactly the best day for the archer to go off on a complicated mission but it wasn't like she had a choice.

At least, that's what she had said before running out the door with that breathtaking smile on her face.

You had believed her at that moment but then night came and Yelena showed up at your apartment with a bottle of unlabeled vodka in her hand and no awkward archer at her side. It would have been fine if the blonde hadn't mentioned she had no idea where Kate was even though she had told you Yelena had assigned the mission to her.

You didn't want to make a scene, though, you were supposed to be enjoying your day and getting slightly too drunk with your friends while eating ridiculously expensive cake.

Your change in mood didn't go unnoticed by the Russian or the rest of your friends.

"She'll be here," Peter says, offering you a small smile. "She's just a little late."

"Yeah!" Kamala joins in, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. "When has Kate not been late to something, right?"

Yelena opens her mouth to answer but the glare you send her way makes her rethink her words. "She is…awful at time management."

You snort, lifting up your cup. "Cheers to that."

Your friends join in and you down the rest of your drink, thankful that the bitter taste of the alcohol distracts you from your bitter feelings.

The rest of the night looks the same with drinking and crappy jokes and far too many slices of cake. Your friends leave a few hours later and it's not until you turn the music off and silence engulfs you that you remember your disappointment.

More than that, it suddenly dawns on you that you're alone.

That Kate still isn't back.

It hurts more than it should.

You know she didn't lie but she still chose not to tell you she wouldn't make it. She promised she'd show up and she didn't.

You're in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen, doing your best to hold back your tears because you are not going to cry on your birthday, when you hear the sound of the front door opening.

It takes a lot of self-restraint to stay instead of running away like you want to. You already know you'll end up forgiving her for missing your party, no matter how stupid the reasoning she gives you is.

"y/n."

The simple sound of her voice is almost enough to get you to break. You're determined not to break down this time, though, and certainly not in front of her.

You take a deep breath before turning around to face her. Your eyes instantly fall on the badly wrapped present and the almost crumpled bouquet of flowers in her hands. Any other day, you would have found it cute.

It's hard to break your habit despite how upset you are and you find yourself scanning her for any clear or severe injuries.

It doesn't take you long to notice the marks on her neck. You assume they're bruises, that her messy hair and disheveled appearance are part of whatever trouble she ended up getting herself in tonight.

But then you look closer.

And suddenly the room feels far too small, the air too thick to let you breathe.

Kate instantly takes notice of what's stolen your attention, placing the flowers down before her free hand comes up to nervously rub at her neck. You're not a genius but you know all her tells by heart.

"You didn't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper but brimming with danger.\

"It's not- I didn't-" She cuts herself off with a sigh.

You know exactly what that means. She doesn't even have an excuse. No stupid explanation to make you feel better. If anything, that makes her guiltier.

Of what? You're not too sure. You just know your best friend was out getting laid when she was supposed to be here with you.

Your unspoken feelings for her only make her betrayal worse.

"You're fucking unbelievable, Kate."

You see a flash of hurt stain her usually bright eyes but you don't care. You can't. Because all of you've done since you met her is care and it's gotten you nothing but heartache.

"y/n."

The soft tone she uses tugs at your heartstrings and yet you force yourself to keep going. To walk away and put enough space between the two of you so you don't have to keep staring the truth right in the face.

Kate doesn't love you. Not the way you want her to. And even though you love her, you can't keep letting yourself get hurt like this.

Not anymore.

So, you walk away.

Unfortunately, you still live together which makes your plan to ignore her for at least a few days practically impossible. Maybe it's immature but the only thing you can do is stay in your room and avoid interacting with her as much as possible.

Avoiding her does little to soothe your hurt feelings, though, and hearing her pace outside your locked door like a scolded puppy makes things even harder. All you can do is remind yourself you already know what her excuses will be anyway so what's the point of letting her in just to be hurt again?

It's a good plan but it doesn't take into account how…persistent Kate can be.

You assume she'll end up doing something to catch your attention but you never once think she'll climb the fire escape and knock on your window.

That's exactly what she does, though, which leaves you pretty much unable to ignore her.

You think about it for a second but then your eyes meet hers and you get up before you can stop yourself.

It's stupid, you know that, but that knowledge doesn't stop you from opening your window. You don't let her in even though it's ridiculous to make her stay outside.

"Do you need something?" You ask.

"Yeah, to talk to you," she replies, her eyes nervously searching your face. "I need to apologize."

"You don't have to, you-"

"Yes, I do and you have to let me in." She seems just as surprised as you are by her words.

You momentarily think about shutting her out and yet somehow, for whatever stupid reason, you don't. You take a step back and allow her to climb in through your window like all those times before. At least this time she's not bleeding.

An awkward silence settles over both of you as she stands in the middle of your room. You regret not cleaning up a little before making your way to the window since now she's subjected to all your haphazardly thrown tissues and incredibly messy bed.

"What now?" You question, already fidgeting with your fingers while you wait for her to talk.

"Now…I tell you how sorry I am and how big of an idiot I am."

"Kate, we've been friends for years, I already know you're an idiot," you say with an eyeroll that holds way too much affection.

"True," she says with a chuckle. "No, I um…I really messed up but not in the way you think. I did miss your party but I…I didn't hook up with anyone. Not really, I-"

"You really don't have to explain this to me." You rush out, not at all wanting to hear those kinds of details from her.

"Yes, I do." She takes a step toward you and it takes all your restraint to not step away from her. "I don't want you to think I went out and slept with someone else on your birthday-"

"Kate," you try again. "You're an adult, you can do whatever you want."

"I want to do that with you!"

There's an edge of desperation to her voice that makes you pause. More than anything, her words confuse you.

"What are you talking about?"

A groan escapes her lips and before you know it, she's getting rid of the space between you and gently taking your face in her hands. She tilts your head until you're looking right at her and your breath gets caught in your throat from the proximity.

"I. Want. To. Be. With. You." Kate whispers every word into the small space between your lips. "I did get caught up on a stupid mission but I didn't sleep with anyone else. I just had to get creative and I took a page out of Natasha's book. I didn't think I'd end up with a massive hickey, though."

It's absolutely ridiculous.

It honestly borders on stupid.

So much so that you laugh.

You laugh until the weight you've been carrying for who knows how long falls off your shoulders.

Until finally, finally, you're able to lean in and kiss the girl of your dreams.

Kate may be an idiot who always gets herself in the worst kinds of troubles but…she's your idiot.

Finally.

[calicoheartz]

Request:

Can you make a Paige x reader inspired by from the start by laufey.

Paige adores reader. Their dads have always been good friends. So they were always together when they were younger. (as in the song) Paige is like kinda nervous around reader, not the most confident in herself. And now at UConn she is still all over reader, her confidence has improved but reader is oblivious to her feelings. (So basically a Paige pov, but you can mix it between the two)

Hope u like my request! 💗

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

꣑୧ — summary | you and Paige had been inseparable since the two of you were younger, she's adored you since the day she laid eyes on you. with you oblivious to her feelings, how does she plan on making you see her the way she sees you?

wc ; 1k

— warnings | tiny bit suggestive if u squint , slowburn (?) , friends to lovers !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : aww this was so sweet to write thank you so much for requesting anon! enjoy besties !

Paige’s POV : 

I have loved y/n since the summer of when i was 13, I had known her for years prior to my quite obvious revelation. 

Our dads had been best friends since university, so it was obvious that once the two of them had children, it was bound that we would be best friends.

I remember the first time I saw her, back when our dads introduced us at one of their weekend get-togethers. She was this bright, confident kid, always ready with a smile and a laugh. I, on the other hand, was the shy one, the one who'd rather dribble a basketball in the corner than join in on the games she loved to play.

Even then, I was drawn to her. I couldn't quite place why, but there was something about her that made my heart race and my palms sweat. She was always so kind, always so patient with me. As the years went by and we grew older, our dads' friendship meant we spent almost every weekend together. It was in those moments, watching you from the sidelines, that I realized I wanted to be more than just friends.

I couldn’t help but be a little envious when she got her first boyfriend, I mean why couldn't she see that I was right in front of her? I listened to all the heartbreaks, all the tears, and it made my heart ache knowing that she doesn't realize how much I truly love her. 

Throughout highschool, the more time i spent with y/n the more my feelings manifested into something i could no longer control, everything she did and said made me nervous. The way her eyes sparkled under the dim lights of the basketball court after practice, the way her laugh echoed in the halls, the way her smile made me weak in the knees. Everything about her was magical, as if a drop of the heavens fell from the sky and somehow adorned her complexion, mesmerizing me every time I saw her. 

Which is why when we both made the commitment to uconn, i knew i was eventually going to have to come clean to her. I couldn’t stand to watch the love of my life slip away between my fingers, and I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I never told her. 

My confidence on the court has soared, and I've found my place here, but when it comes to you, I still feel like that shy girl from our childhood. I wonder if you even notice the way I look at you, the way my breath catches when you laugh, the way I can't help but gravitate towards you whenever we're in the same room.

It was just me and you, in awkward silence.

I mean how hasn't she noticed how I get quiet when there's no one else around? 

But what's a girl to do? Lying on my bed, staring into the blue..

My love for her is driving me a little bit insane, I have to get this off my chest.

I'm telling you today.

Readers POV : 

Paige has always been a part of my life, a constant presence that I sometimes take for granted. Our dads' friendship meant that we were practically inseparable growing up. I remember her as the quiet one, always a bit nervous, always clutching her basketball like it was a lifeline. I liked having her around, though. There was something comforting about her steady presence.

Being at UConn together has been amazing. Watching Paige on the court, seeing her confidence bloom, has been incredible. She's become this powerhouse player, admired by everyone. I'm proud of her, and I make sure to tell her often.

What I don't understand is why she always seems a little flustered around me. I mean, we've known each other forever. There's no reason for her to be nervous, right? I chalk it up to her being busy with basketball and school, but sometimes I catch her looking at me with this intense expression, and it makes me wonder if there's something more.

Paige’s POV : 

Tonight, we're having one of our usual study sessions in my dorm room. I try to focus on my notes, but my eyes keep drifting towards you. You're sitting on my bed, textbooks spread out around you, a determined look on your face. It's moments like these that make me wish I could just tell you how I feel.

"Paige, you okay?" Your voice breaks through my thoughts.

I blink, realizing I've been staring. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

You give me a curious look. "About what?"

I hesitate, the words on the tip of my tongue. "About... us. About how long we've known each other."

You smile, a soft, nostalgic smile. "We've been through a lot, haven't we?"

"Yeah," I agree, my heart pounding. "And there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

You tilt your head, eyes bright with curiosity. "What is it?"

Before I can lose my nerve, I take a deep breath. "I've had feelings for you for a long time. Since we were kids. I was always too scared to say anything, but I can't keep it to myself anymore."

Readers POV : 

I'm stunned. Paige's words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can't believe what I'm hearing. Paige, the girl who's always been there, who I thought I knew so well, has had feelings for me all this time?

"Paige," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. "I had no idea. I..."

Her face falls slightly, and I realize how much this confession has cost her. I reach out, taking her hand in mine. "I never noticed, but now that you've said it... it makes sense. The way you've always been there for me, the way you look at me."

She looks at me with hope in her eyes. "Does this change anything for you?"

I think about it for a moment, then smile. "I think it does. I think it's something we should explore."

Paige's face breaks into a relieved, joyful smile, and for the first time, I see her confidence shine through, not just on the court, but here with me. From the start, we've always been there for each other, and now, we have the chance to turn our story into something even more beautiful.

Paiges POV :

just thinking of you...I know ive loved you from the start.

a/n : mighttttt make a part 2 to this....THIS HEALED MY DEPRESSION WHFBQEHR!! as always, thank u sm for reading !

[sxfterhearts]

full of you(r love)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ softdom!jiung x little girl!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: smut (18+ mdni nsfw), unprotected sex, dd/lg themes, mention of safeword (but not used), emotional sex (is this a warning?), porn with a lot of plot

♡ word count: 3,550 words

♡ author's note: i'm scared cos this fic i've been working on for the past month is going out into the world.. pls be kind im a fluff writer with no smut experience but choi jiung made me write this?!???! dedicating this fic to all my lovely tumblr moots and anons who encouraged me throughout this process, and especially @348kg (this fic wouldnt exist without u) and @kisseobie (ur my inspiration rosa) <333 fr smut writers yall are elite u have my respect omfg

//

“Yeah? Are you sure, eomma? I think it’s looking a little too red… Oh wait,” Jiung paused mid-sentence, lips lifting automatically into a smile as he heard the familiar chime of the keypad  code being punched into the door. You were home, finally. “Y/N’s home. Yeah, mhmm… Okay, I’ll tell her that. Yup, okay… Yeah, one spoon, got it. Thank you so much! Mhmm, I’m hanging up. Okay, love you too, bye!”

He turned around, placing his red phone in the pocket of his apron, a gift you got him when he declared he wanted to learn how to cook better meals. Jiung turned the fire down to a low simmer, but not before inhaling the fragrant aroma of his own home cooking. Smiling proudly, he wiped his hands on the apron and made his way towards the entrance of your shared apartment. “Y/N! You’re back.”

The smile was promptly wiped off his face when he saw your dishevelled figure at the doorway, struggling to peel your goddamned heels off your sore feet. The hair that you usually wore up in a ponytail was hanging towards the floor in a frizzy black mop. You bore such a close resemblance to the female ghosts in those old-school horror movies that Jiung nearly jumped in fright. 

“Hey, let me.” He called out softly, crouching down to undo the straps of your heels and peel your bag off your tired shoulders, before carefully placing the shoes back on the shelves. 

“Jiung…” You mumbled, voice small and tired. You huffed out a deep sigh. “I had the worst day ever, I’m not even joking.”

Jiung looked at you and took you in, like really took in your entire being, and realised that he had not seen you in such a state for a while. “Yeah?” He smiled sympathetically, arms coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him and guiding your heavy head to rest against his broad shoulders. His palm cradled the back of your head, smoothing down your hair and pressing his lips against your temples in greeting. 

“Yeah, my stupid manager doesn’t understand that I can’t deliver the same results because we are literally one man down. What am I supposed to do when the other manager is on leave for a whole month? Why doesn’t he understand that I can’t train my staff and lead the project at the same time? It’s so frustrating. And whenever I try to voice out my concerns, it’s like he’s deaf or something, I swear…” You grumbled angrily.

“Hmm,” Jiung hummed, listening intently. “It does sound like a really tough day, baby. But you know what will make it better?”

“Hmm?”

“I made you dinner.”

As if on cue, Jiung felt, rather than heard, your stomach grumble, signalling your hunger. His brows scrunched up as he asked, yet fearing the answer altogether, “When was the last time you ate, Y/N?”

You went silent. 

Jiung sighed, shaking his head. “C’mon, silly girl. I made your favourite. It’s my mum’s recipe too. Just sit and I’ll get it ready for you.”

It was your turn to shake your head this time. “No, your baby wants hugs.” You insisted childishly, your cool, strict manager facade from work disappearing the moment you were in the presence of your boyfriend of four years. You pouted and hugged him tighter, absolutely refusing to budge.

Jiung laughed, finding your current state endearing. He knew it was because you were so tired and worn out, and decided to make the most of the opportunity. “Fine, it’s up to you. You are my baby, after all…”

As the night wore on, you refused to leave his side for even a moment, sticking to Jiung like a koala clung to a tree. You insisted on hugging him from behind as he scooped the kimchi jjigae into two separate bowls, topping them with spring onions and a teaspoon of sesame oil each and serving them up with bowls of steaming, multigrain rice. You held on tight as you sat on his lap at the dining table, limbs intertwining with his as you begged him to feed you instead, feeling ‘too tired’ all of a sudden to even lift a spoon because of the rough work day. You even grasped the hem of his white, paper thin t-shirt desperately when he so much as got up to grab more side dishes from the fridge, insisting that he let you stay like this for longer because you missed him way too much.

“Baby…” Jiung cooed, repositioning his big hands on your hips, reaching under your tight work blouse to caress your soft skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “What is it? I know you’ve had a hard time today, but you’re very clingy.” He lightly teased, eyes downcast as he looked at you with feigned suspicion. In reality, after being together for so long, it wasn’t hard for Jiung to know your true intentions.

You refused to meet his eyes, pretending to pay him no mind as you chewed on the last mouthful of rice, all while twirling the strings of his apron around your fingers. 

“Babe…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to be a good girl and use your words? Hmm?” He prompted, voice turning slightly harder.

When you failed to respond, Jiung used his long, slim fingers to tilt your chin towards him and hold it there. “Words, baby. I need you to say something, okay?”

Your desperate, pleading eyes met his unwavering gaze, and you felt your body shiver at the intensity behind it. “Yeah…” You whispered, suddenly feeling small.

“What do you need… Can you tell me?” Jiung pressed on, yet his eyes caught sight of a stray piece of rice lingering on the corner of your lips. He moved his thumb towards the rice and both of you followed his movement. As though in slow motion, your tongue darted out to lick his finger – shy, like a kitten. When you noticed that he didn’t respond, and just tracked your next move with the eyes of a hawk, you daringly relaxed your jaw and sucked it into your wet, warm mouth.

Jiung felt his cock stir under two layers of clothing and your plush ass.

You saw how his pupils blew out. Feeling satisfied with the effect you had on him, you released his thumb with a loud pop. “Jiung, can you take care of me tonight, please?” You asked shyly, batting your eyelashes. The stark contrast between the lewd request and your bashful tone made your boyfriend’s head spin.

Behind closed doors, you were completely comfortable with Jiung taking full control and treating you like his baby girl. Tonight was no different. It wasn’t often that you got the opportunity to take things all the way. In fact, you struggled to even remember when was the last time Jiung even called you his baby. Especially not since you started on this project, which has been the cause of all your grievances in the past three months.

But tonight, you were determined to break the drought. Something within you snapped this afternoon when your boss made a big show of throwing your report in the trash whilst yelling colourful profanities in front of the entire team. It was the last straw after a series of small, seemingly insignificant inconveniences that eventually snowballed. You felt like a pressure cooker, finally exploding at your incompetent boss.

The entire torment drained you so much that truthfully, you really didn’t want to do anything for yourself anymore. Sure, you could feed yourself, and sure, you could sit upright on your own, but you really appreciated that since stepping foot into the apartment, Jiung had taken care of everything – from removing your shoes, to making sure you were fed and comfortable. You didn’t even need to think; you just trusted and knew that he would shut your brain down and handle everything for you.

Being someone who was naturally independent and strong-headed in the workplace, you knew that anyone who found out you acted like this with your boyfriend would hang their jaws in utter disbelief. Yet here you were, being carried to the sofa by Jiung as you nibbled on his neck in fervour.

“You sure you want this tonight, baby?” Jiung sat you down and kneeled at eye-level in front of you to ask, all serious and concerned. But his mind was slowly getting clouded as your teeth sunk into a soft spot close to his earlobes, sucking greedily. “There’s no turning back for you if you say yes, and…” He paused to take a breath, letting his responsibility over you rise up to the surface. “I will take care of you as always, but you’re in quite a state now, and I don’t want to risk you having a bad time.”

Jiung felt you nod wordlessly in response, but it wasn’t enough for him. The soft dom inside of him was screaming for your verbal consent. “Baby, if you don’t tell me our safe word now, I’m going to have to stop, okay?” He warned, using the tone you registered as being slightly stern when you descended into your little persona. 

“Blue,” You muttered directly into his ears. You rubbed your thighs together involuntarily. Truthfully, you had been thinking about this since you were in the office, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in any longer. “It’s blue, please… I thought about this at work…” Your lips moved closer and captured his earlobe, sucking on it in a silent attempt to speed things up.

Shit shit shit – Jiung could only let out a choked hum as you attacked his sensitive spot. He knew that even though you were his little girl, deep down you were still a vixen begging and yearning to be fucked, and he knew you knew all the right buttons to push to get what you wanted.

He was never very good at denying you, anyway. Jiung spoiled you rotten, he thought, as he pulled you away from him. “Sit up for me, baby. I want you to be a good girl for me and suck my cock first. Can you do that?”

You nodded way too eagerly, eyes shining and lips parted as you looked up at him, waiting for Jiung to rid himself of his sweats and boxers, all in one go. You felt saliva pool in the back of your throat as you finally caught sight of the main prize. Jiung was not extremely long or girthy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, as your clammy fingers wrapped around what was undoubtedly the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen. You liked how your small fingers struggled slightly to wrap all the way around, forcing you to use both hands as you guided the swollen tip towards your waiting mouth. Greedy, your tongue peeked out to sneak a taste of his glistening pre-cum. 

Giggling, you hummed to yourself in satisfaction before letting a comment slip, “It’s nice…”

Jiung was halfway to losing his mind but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. You were, after all, his adorable, precious girl. “Well,” He placed an encouraging hand on your cheek, “I’m glad you think so.”

You nodded in agreement, letting your hands wander across his midriff, fingers ghosting over the black butterflies peeking through his thin shirt. He helped you by raising the shirt and capturing the hem between his teeth, skin tingling with excitement as you licked every tattoo on his upper body with your slick, hot tongue.

Once you were satisfied, you finally allowed yourself to indulge in his intoxicating scent. Mirroring your earlier actions, you let Jiung into your welcoming mouth, quickly sucking and swirling your tongue around his length at a steady pace. Instantly, he released the shirt from his lips and let out a long moan.

Hearing his noises only spurred you on further. Determined, one hand reached underneath to massage his balls while the other fisted the rest of his uncovered length, doing everything at once – a three-in-one, if you will, in the hopes of driving Jiung absolutely insane.

“Baby… Fuck, how are you so good at this?” He grunted. “Who taught you to be this good, hmm?”

You tried to answer with an excited “You!” but seemed to have forgotten about the dick in your mouth, making you cough and sputter before swallowing even more of him in. Jiung had to forcefully grip your hair into a ponytail to keep himself in check, fighting the primitive urge to continue choking you with his thick cock. 

But why did he want to fight, you wondered? You recovered from the slip up like a champ, quickly relaxing your throat muscles to take in more of his length until both of you groaned at the impact of his tip kissing the back of your throat. You gagged, feeling your pussy leak and clench around nothing.

Jiung wasn’t faring any better as he screwed his eyes shut, groaning deeply. He lost partial control of his lower body as he rutted against that same spot again and again, selfishly hoping that you would gag on his cock over and over. “Ah, your mouth is so perfect for me…”

Your pussy pulsed at the praise, always a sucker for pleasing your boyfriend both in and outside of the bedroom. You wanted him to use you until he was painting ropes of white sticky hot cum on your face, but it seemed like he had other plans, suddenly yanking your face away from his pulsing, red cock.

You just stared at him, mouth agape in shock at the abrupt stop. 

The next thing you knew, you were being carried bridal style towards the bedroom. Jiung set you down gently in the middle of the bed, amongst a small army of your favourite plushies. He fluffed the pillows under your head, arranged your body in a comfortable position below him and tucked a lock of hair behind your ears. 

“Hey,” He breathed, nose bumping against yours. “Just checking in, how are you feeling?”

At that, you felt hot tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. How did you ever get so lucky to land someone like him? He was always so sweet and caring with you. Overwhelmed, you could only nod, feeling a flurry of emotions bubble up to the surface.

“Hey, hey, baby…” Jiung’s finger captured a stray tear, concerned. “Do you want to keep going? You know we can stop at any time.”

You nodded in affirmation, looking up at him with pleading, sparkling eyes. At that moment, Jiung thought you had never looked so devastatingly beautiful. He swore to himself that he would always be your lover, and your protector.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.”

And you believed Jiung with your whole heart. You closed your eyes and felt him kiss away your tears as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your blouse. Little by little, your stress and worries melted away with the feathery touch of his lips against your exposed skin. He pressed open-mouth kisses trailing from the top of your bra to your navel, swiftly pulling down your slacks, leaving you in your underwear. Somehow, while you were losing yourself to the sensations, Jiung managed to pull your favourite pair of frilly, knee high socks over your legs. Partly because he knew your feet get cold easily, but mostly because he liked how they hugged your thighs.

“My sweet girl…” Jiung pressed a thumb to your white-ribboned panties, feeling a wet spot at your centre. His breath caught in his throat at your leaking arousal. 

You could only whine, hips pressing against his palm in search of more friction. 

Jiung got the message, undoing your bra then pulling down your panties in quick succession, leaving you bare for him. “So perfect,” he whispered to himself more than anything, blood rushing to his hardened length. His mouth latched onto your left nipple as he rolled the right one between eager fingers. 

“Jiung…” You sighed, pleasure coursing through your veins like an electric shock. “Please…”

After a harsh suck, he released your nipple with a loud pop. “Please what, baby?” 

“Please, I want you inside…” You whined, greedy for more.

“Baby, I need to prep you first.” He thumbed the entrance of your sweet hole, gathering your slick before swiftly pushing inside.

You huffed, shaking your head. One finger was not enough anymore. “Want you inside now, please!”

Jiung’s cock twitched at your words. “But it’ll hurt –” 

“I want it to, please! I just want to feel you deep inside,” You were desperate at this point, begging him to fill you up. “Thought about this all day!”

Jiung cursed under his breath, turned on beyond belief at your eagerness. What his baby wants, his baby gets.

He slowly eased his hard length past the walls of your pussy, the glide aided by a mix of your saliva from earlier and your wet juices. Then, with one quick thrust, he slammed all the way in, the curved tip of his cock kissing your cervix. The two of you moaned out in unison, relieved to finally be back home in each other’s bodies. 

“Missed this…” Jiung was struggling to get the words out. It had been too long since you were last intimate and he forgot how tight your little cunt was. “Miss feeling you around me.”

You could only moan pathetically in response, eyes rolled back in pure pleasure. You felt so full of him, and so full of his love for you.

Jiung waited patiently for you to adjust to his size, all while pressing tender kisses along your jaw, and lightly rubbing the cool tip of his nose against your rosy cheeks. 

He caged you in with his arms, and rested his warm forehead against yours. You basked in his hot breaths fanning across your flushed cheeks as your pussy clenched and unclenched to adjust to his size. You craned your neck upwards, and Jiung understood you immediately, devouring your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Your tongues tangled in a fiery dance whilst all your thoughts melted away. Your anxious brain was calm once more, as you surrendered your body and mind entirely to Jiung.

“Ready?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circular patterns against your waist.

You hummed, hips rolling up in search of friction. Jiung got the message, and pulled out gently before thrusting in deep. “God, Y/N… You’re so perfect for me, so good.”

He was making love to you – there was no doubt about it. Anyone could tell, from the way he rocked his hips with conviction, to the way his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, determined to make you feel good. Jiung was a passionate lover. And with each thrust, he replaced the hurt and frustration with love and blissful pleasure.

You were so lost in it; in him, and the way that he made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. It was just you and him, and nothing else. It was such a relief to be treated like this by someone who loved you as much as Jiung did. Your lips, which were permanently casted into a frown throughout the work day, worked itself into a soft smile. You closed your eyes and just allowed the pleasure to course through your entire body. 

Jiung, noticing that you were getting lost in the moment, helped to gather your legs and wrap them around his waist for you. He held them there, enjoying the slight burn as the fabric of your socks rubbed against his back. That way, he could make sure your bodies were impossibly close. 

“You okay?” Jiung breathed, nudging your cheeks with his before pressing his lips on your forehead. 

You could only moan in response, clenching your walls every single time he thrusted into you. The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper, and that combined with the way his fingers played with your clit, had you inching closer and closer to your sweet release.

“Jiung – Ah! Close…” 

He kept hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars, while his fingers picked up speed. You could feel yourself tethering at the edge of the precipice. All it took was a –

“I love you, baby, no matter what, I love you more than you know…” Jiung professed his love before pressing his lips to yours for the nth time that night. “Yeah, that’s it. I gotchu, you’re safe with me.” That was more than enough to bring you over the edge.

Your velvety walls clenched around him so tight that he quickly followed, panting heavily as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

epilogue.

As you basked in the afterglow of your climaxes, you felt Jiung littering kisses all over your face, and giggled. 

“How was it?” He asked jokingly.

“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it with your eyes closed, making both of you laugh. “Thank you, really. It was just what I needed.”

“What can I say? I’m the perfect boyfriend.”

“You really are, Choi Jiung. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[chanranghaeys]

scenario 2 and 8 for scoups please

🍒 "you'll be okay."

prompts from @novelbear: link scenario 2: waking their partner up for work when they notice their alarm didn’t go off scenario 8: calmly reassuring the other it’s okay when they drop a glass, gently checking their hands for any injury.

pairing: idol!seungcheol x gn!reader word count: 951 tags: angst with comfort, cheol helps you calm down, reader is a stressed corporate slave jk warnings: reader on the brink of panic attack, broken glass and checking for injury

a/n: thank u anon and i’m so sorry for making you wait aaaaaa i might’ve taken some creative liberties from the prompts partly inspired bc ive been feeling stressed at work hkjsdhf but i hope you see this and i hope you like it 🫶

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Your breath tickled his cheek and he smiled. You couldn't see it, but his eyes crinkled the way you loved it. He missed you so much, so, so much.

Seungcheol had been gone a few months for their tour. When he told you his flight home would be a red-eye flight, arriving in the ungodly hours of the morning, he knew better than to expect you to be there to fetch him. He knew how busy you were already after all the work stories you were telling him over videocalls, with him constantly wishing he could be beside you instead to calm you the way he knew would work.

So when he arrived home, it took all his willpower to wake you up—he admired how adorable you looked in your sleep. But he knew you'd be in for a more pleasant surprise when you saw him in the flesh after so long.

“Wake up, baby.” You felt gentle lips land on your forehead, half-waking you from your deep slumber. Stop waking me up, was your immediate thought.

“Ten more minutes, mom.” You bat away the offending lips with a hand, and Seungcheol bit back the giggle threatening to come out.

“I’m home, love. Wake up.” You open your eyes and find his smiling ones, calm and comforting. Your line of sight then drifts to the clock hanging on the wall behind him—7:00 am. Oh, no.

“FUCK I’M LATE.”

Well, there went a supposedly peaceful morning.

You jumped out of your seat and hopped into the shower without even batting an eye toward Cheol, who was stunned to silence after your exclamation.

He just followed you to the shower and stood by the door. “Baby, what are you late for?”

“The board meeting! It’s in an hour!”

Ah, shit. Yep, he told you how important this specific board meeting was. It explains why he found you the way he did, slumped over your desk with an open laptop and sheets of paper strewn across it. You must’ve worked late into the wee hours of the morning while he was flying home.

You rush through your shower, your skincare routine, your breakfast that—thankfully—Cheol prepared in a rush while you were preoccupied. You were flying between your room and the dining room and the bathroom, frazzled and scatterbrained—both of which you could not afford to be this morning.

You shrug on your blazer while attempting to even out your eyebrow makeup, which you soon abandon because the piece of bread you were chewing was attempting to block your airway with how fast you were trying to chew. You rush to the kitchen to grab a drink, but then—

“FUCK!”

The sound of shattering glass resounded across the apartment. You were drenched, water soaking through your business attire and the kitchen floor following suit, the large shards from the broken pitcher were scattered across the floor. You were rendered still in shock, trying but failing to calm down the breaths that grew shallower by the second and the tears that were blurring your vision.

Cheol was just a few steps away, washing the dishes. He was trying to assess the situation before jumping in, but he couldn’t help it when you started saying “Cheol…” in the most heartbroken tone he’d ever heard.

He held out his hands and you held on to them as if they were your lifeline. “Come here, come to me. Be careful of the glass.” He guided you through and out of the mess, leading you to an open area to make sure you were both safe.

“Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?” He immediately grabs your hands and carefully runs his hands across your body and clothes to make sure no stray glass shards will get you injured. You couldn’t answer him because you were too focused on regulating your breathing. When he was sure you were not hurt, he looked straight into your eyes and held your hands.

“Breathe with me. Can you do that?” You nod. “Ready?” He takes in a deep breath, and you follow suit but fail.

“Cheol, I’ll be late, I can’t be late—”

“I know, but you have to breathe.”

“No, you don’t understand—”

“No. Listen to me.” He looks you sternly in the eye. “You can’t leave the house like this, you’ll get hurt. We need to calm down first, okay? Breathe with me, okay?” Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.

When your breathing finally slows and goes back to normal, that’s when you finally get a good look at him. He had no makeup on, showing the bags under his eyes that were more prominent than usual. He must have been living in his clothes for how many hours at this point. Above all, it sunk in how much you so badly missed him. You didn’t even greet him properly when he arrived.

“There we go. That’s my baby. Are you okay now?” Instead of answering him, you go in for a hug, one he eagerly returns. For a moment, you forget where you were and what time it was, until reality hit you again.

“Cheol, I’ll be late. I swear, I really can’t be late.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll drive you. Get changed, then you can do your makeup in the car. Tell your colleagues that your car broke down, while you were on the way—they’d have no choice but to believe that.”

“Okay.”

“And, love?”

You look at him. He kisses your forehead, pressing down with a tender firmness with a warmth that spreads throughout you, calming you down in an instant. As long as he was here by your side, you will be okay.

“You’ll be okay. I got you.”

[hxrukii]

❝I couldn't help myself! It was just begging for the personal touch!❞

╭・๑ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︰ʚ Some of NRC student with a Rarity!Reader, part 2.‧₊˚✦

‧₊˚↷ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)┊❝ Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud. ❞ ⸜⸜*

↷︰ʚ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ‧₊˚✦ Reader is female and is implied to be Yuu. Once again anon, I'm so so sorry for misreading your request, I think I need to get my eyes checked :') Vil and Lilia are in part 1!

╰・𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) ‧₊˚꒰ Spoiler for book 6. ɞ‧✦

Leona first thoughts were: great, another Schoenheit.

Was actually annoyed with Rarity!Reader's presence alone.

Once he started to get to know Rarity!Reader better though, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that she was way less annoying than Vil.

Suddenly isn't that cold towards Rarity!Reader anymore.

Wouldn't be that impressed by Rarity!Reader's ability to find gems, that man probably sees gems 24/7 back home.

Would be impressed by Rarity!Reader's skill in telekinesis though. But couldn't be bothered to ask questions or even tips. Just know that he's impressed.

If Rarity!Reader makes him clothes that are specifically for him?? And they are comfortable?? She really is less annoying than Vil.

Would start to appreciate Rarity!Reader more.

Will even support Rarity!Reader's career, though he would never say it out loud. Just know that he's supportive.

Want to open a shop? Sure he's got money to spare anyway. Ah, but don't tell Ruggie, or he'll start complaining and Leona will never hear the end of it.

Will get cocky if Rarity!Reader ever ask him to try on clothes she made for him.

Whenever Rarity!Reader is stressed, Leona would just pull her by her waist and force her to sleep u til she's calmed down. Will be annoyed if she tries to escape.

Likes to annoy Rarity!Reader's cat whenever he can. Which is rarely since well... he's lazy.

When he's not in the mood to mess with the cat though, would probably have a conversation with her. Yes, he understands her. But don't point it out though, he will be annoyed.

"Heh, you're not half bad. Better than that guy from Pomefiore anyway."

Great, another Vil pt. 2, but instead it's "Oh no, another Vil."

There's just something about people who are into fashion that somehow scares Idia for some reason.

Tried his best to stay as far away from Rarity!Reader as possible.

Until after his overblot where he learned that hey, Rarity!Reader much nicer and way less strict than Vil!

Immediate relief. But getting this introverted otaku to open up is quite hard, especially when he panics every times he sees Rarity!Reader.

But with a little help from Ortho, and the magic of cats, he finally opened up. All thanks to Rarity!Reader's cat... and Grim. Idia doens't regret anything, he hopes.

Whenever Rarity!Reader would offer him any kind of clothing to try, his hair will start turning pink at the tips.

And if Rarity!Reader would even make him clothes specifically made for him, that are inspired by his favorite game/anime character, his hair will go bright pink and he might even fate if it were not for Ortho.

Won't be much help if Rarity!Reader ever wanted to open her own shop, the least he could do is help with the security... and maybe actually be there in person on opening day, maybe.

Will leave as soon as the store is actually opened and people start coming in though.

The only time you actually see him will be when the store closes. Only then will he actually try to congratulate Rarity!Reader, the chance of him actually succeeding in congratulating her will depend on how flustered he gets though.

Ortho might need to speak in his stead, much to Idia's dismay. At least his tired.

At least Rarity!Reader shop will have great security all thanks to Idia.

Probably will dox whoever tries to spread false information about Rarity!Reader and her designs etc...

"Y-you what me to try this on?! N-no way! Huh? It was made specifically for me...? Then... I guess I could. But don't expect for it too actually look good on me!"

꒰ ◁ ꒱┊❝Back to Leona, Idia's Masterlist❞