#when you realize that you don't know your friend anymore. not like you used to.
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bloomzone · 2 days ago
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2025 : #18 THE ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT BURNOUT
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i feel exhausted. And I don’t mean like "Oh, I need a nap" exhausted y'all know exhaustion that sits in ur bones that makes even the smallest tasks feel like moving a mountain Even when I do get some rest like sleeping for 8h do breathing techniques I still wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. And not a small one I'm talking an 18-wheeler, full speed (call it whatever u want) . I was tired all the time yet somehow also restless. I wanted to do something, but I also didn’t want to do anything. I was stuck in this weird, miserable limbo where everything felt pointless, but at the same time, I was stressed about not doing enough. Like, how does that even make sense?And honestly, it got to a point where I wasn’t even living anymore I was just existing. Just floating through days waiting for the next one hoping I’d feel better but never really doing anything about it. Because when you’re that deep in burnout, it’s hard to even believe that you can feel better.
But you can. And I know that sounds cliché as hell but listen to me for a second. If I could drag myself out of that deep, dark hole, you definitely can too. And I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, but I swear to you, it’s possible.
ᡣ𐭩 sᴛᴇᴘ ᴏɴᴇ: sᴛᴏᴘ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ
If someone talked to you the way you talk to yourself you’d probably wanna fight them Like imagine your younger self sitting right in front of you. If they were struggling, feeling drained, feeling like a failure, would you yell at them to “get their shit together” and call them lazy? No, right? You’d probably comfort them, tell them it’s okay, tell them they don’t have to be perfect.
So why the hell are you so mean to yourself?
Burnout doesn’t happen because you’re weak or lazy but it happens because you’ve been pushing yourself too hard for too long bu experience cuz when I study every single day like NOO stop wake up early,homeworks,school and the same loop go for 1 month I burn out for maybe 15days after (like rn) And let’s be honest, most of us don’t even realize it’s happening until we’re knee-deep in exhaustion. You keep telling yourself, “Oh, I’ll rest once I finish this” or “I just need to push through a little more,” until one day, your body and brain just quit on you.
So the first step? Start being nice to yourself. Start talking to yourself the way you’d talk to a best friend who’s struggling. Because you are not the problem burnout is.
ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ᴛᴡᴏ: ʀᴇsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs ᴏɴ ɪᴛ (ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴅᴏᴇs)
I know resting sounds like the most obvious advice ever, but do you actually do it? Because scrolling on your phone for five hours doesn’t count as rest. Lying in bed while spiraling about everything you should be doing? Also not rest.
Real rest means giving yourself permission to slow down without feeling guilty. It means doing things that actually recharge you so don't force urself to do ur hard tasks like intense workout at 6am saying yes to extra tasks or project ... But say yes to take walks , listening to music, watching a comfort show DO ANYTHING THAT MAKE U HAPPY not everyone have the same (happiness detox) so yeah . And most importantly, it means not punishing yourself for needing a break.Because pooks you’re not a machine. You weren’t built to be productive 24/7. Even your phone needs to be charged, and you’re out here expecting yourself to run on 2% battery every day? Yeah, no wonder you feel like shit.
ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ғʀᴏᴍ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ
i know. "But I just use it to relax." Do you? Do you really? Because last time u checked, scrolling through Instagram or tiktok for hours and comparing your life to a bunch of people who only post their highlight reels doesn’t exactly scream relaxation.
Social media is draining u .fr u don’t even realize it half the time, but it’s constantly feeding your brain unrealistic expectations. One second you’re watching someone’s “That Girl” morning routine, and the next, you feel like a failure because you don’t wake up at 5 AM to drink matcha and do yoga on a balcony.
And don’t even get me started on doomscrolling. Like, do I need to know every bad thing happening in the world the second I wake up? No. But do I do it anyway? Also yes. And then I wonder why I feel like shit before my day even starts.
So hear me out pookie log off. Even for just a day. Delete the apps if you have to limit time . Go touch some grass. Read a book. Hell stare at the ceiling if you want. Just give your brain a break from the constant noise. Trust me, you’ll feel a million times lighter.
ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏᴜʀ: sᴛᴏᴘ ᴍᴇᴀsᴜʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ
I used to think that if I wasn’t being productive, I wasn’t worth anything. Like, if I wasn’t working, studying, or doing something “useful,” I was just wasting my life. And if I had a day where I didn’t get anything done? the self-hate would kick in.
But fr your value is not based on how much you do. You are not just a machine made to produce work and complete tasks. You are a human being who deserves to exist without constantly proving yourself.
Think about it .. do you judge your friends based on how productive they are? Do you stop loving someone just because they took a lazy day? No. So why do you do it to yourself?Taking a break doesn’t make you a failure. Resting doesn’t make you lazy. And slowing down doesn’t mean you’re falling behind. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is give yourself space to breathe.
ᡣ𐭩 ᴛʜᴇ 𝟷-ʜᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅ: ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʙᴜʀɴᴏᴜᴛ
U feel exhausted, unmotivated, and even simple tasks feel like a challenge. You know you need to do something, but damn you can’t even bring yourself to move. I get it.
So here’s the deal We’re not fixing your whole life in one day buuuut Instead, we’re using the 1-Hour Method—because when you’re burnt out, committing to an entire day of productivity feels impossible. But one hour? That’s doable.
Step 1: The One-Hour Reset
You don’t need to “fix” everything. Just commit to one hour of doing something that will make you feel 1% better. That’s it.
⏳ The Rules:
Set a timer for 60 minutes.
Pick 2-3 small things that will make you feel lighter.
Do them with zero pressure. Imperfect action > no action.
Examples:
⏰ Minute 0-10: Get out of bed. Wash your face. Brush your teeth. You don’t need a full “that girl” routine, just refresh yourself.
⏰ Minute 10-20: Make your space 5% cleaner. Not a full deep clean—just clear the trash, fold a blanket, or open the window. Small changes, big difference.
⏰ Minute 20-40: Do one small productive task—answer an email, write one sentence of an essay, organize one folder. Just something that reminds you that you can do things.
⏰ Minute 40-60: Move your body. Stretch, walk around, dance to a song—anything to shake off the mental fog.
One hour down, and I guarantee you’ll feel even slightly better than before.
Step 2: The 1-Hour Rule for Self-Comparison
Nothing drains your energy more than constantly feeling behind in life. Comparing yourself to others? Yeah, that’s a fast track to burnout.But the people u’re comparing yourself to? They have bad days too. They feel lost too. They struggle too. You just don’t see it.
So for the next hour try this:
Write down 3 things you’ve accomplished last days or months No matter how small. Maybe you learned a new skill, took care of yourself on a rough day, or simply kept going when you wanted to quit. That counts.
Unfollow or mute accounts that make you feel “less than.” If it doesn’t inspire you, it’s draining you Simple.
Shift your mindset. Instead of “Why am I not there yet?” ask “How can I grow at my own pace?”
You’re doing better than you think. You don’t need to rush. Your journey is yours.
Step 3: The 1-Hour Rule for Overwhelm
Burnout often comes from having too much on your plate. So, instead of drowning in to-do lists, use this:
→ Pick 1 hour a day to focus on just ONE thing. No multitasking. No distractions. Just one task that actually matters.When you train your brain to handle things one at a time, everything feels less overwhelming.
You don’t have to “get your life together” overnight. You just have to start.
ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ғɪᴠᴇ: ғɪɴᴅ ᴊᴏʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ (ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴍᴀʟʟᴇsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs)
I know what you’re thinking “ I don’t even remember what joy feels like.” And I get it. When you’re burnt out, everything feels dull, like life lost its color.But you can bring it back. And no, I’m not saying you need to go on some self-discovery journey. Sometimes, it starts with the smallest things listening to a song you used to love, rewatching a movie that made you happy, making a dumb inside joke with a friend, buying yourself a little treat just because , go through ur old photos, remember ur high grades or whatever makes u joyful and full of love
Joy isn’t always some big Sometimes it’s just a tiny moment that reminds you life isn’t all stress and exhaustion.And the more you find those small moments, the more you start to feel alive again.
ᡣ𐭩 ʟᴀsᴛ sᴛᴇᴘ : ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ, ɪ sᴡᴇᴀʀ
If you’re reading this and thinking, “Damn, I don’t even know where to start,” that’s okay. Just start small. Start with one thing whether it’s being kinder to yourself, taking an actual rest day, stepping away from social media, or just reminding yourself that burnout does not define you.Because you will get through this. You’re stronger than you think. And one day, you’re gonna look back at this version of yourself and be so damn proud that you kept going.
Until then? Take it one step at a time or even an hour at the time be gentle with yourself pookie and remember: you are not alone in this.
@bloomzone
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pretty-bratty · 2 days ago
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'It's Peter. Parker.'
He slides the phone back into his pocket without much hope. No one will reply - haven't in all these months - and even if someone would, it would be a very annoyed Happy.
It's September, and the mornings are foggy-pink like apples, the evenings are orange from streetlights and fallen leaves - and Peter's been living with this bittersweet mix of hope and anxiety since Germany.
Since Mr. Stark gave him that little talk in the car. Peter tries not to die from embarrassment every time he remembers that not hug.
"You sure you're okay, kid? No feeling sick, dizziness, any other fun stuff?"
Peter hurried to nod, then shake his head. The movement echoed with the pain.
"Yeah, no, I'm-I'm totally fine!"
I don't want you to go.
But Mr. Stark - Tony - had a long night ahead. Lots to discuss with Captain America and the others. Lots to figure out about Cap's friend, the one with the cool arm. And Peter, well, Peter wasn't needed in any of this. Not anymore.
That fight in Berlin airport ended almost as soon as it started. Everyone stopped throwing superpowered punches and started talking, right after-
No. Peter forbids himself to think about it. This memory is saved for before sleep.
And right now he better focus on whatever Ned is saying.
"...in the news."
"Huh?" Peter whips his head to look at his best friend. "Sorry, what's in the news?"
"Mr. Stark," Ned repeats patiently, slurping apple juice. "Saw them in the morning news, him and Cap."
"Really?"
Peter almost asks what suit was Mr. Stark wearing, but bites his tongue before the words slip out. He's not a fangirl gossiping about a popstar. He's just gonna see it himself on YouTube after school.
"They've been asked if a part of the Avengers tower could be open for school field trips."
"Really?!"
Okay, he's repeating himself, but - seriously, he missed that?!
"Yup." Ned smiles dreamily. "Mr. Stark said it's a great idea-"
"Really?!?"
This time Ned gives him a look, and Peter giggles sheepishly. Yeah, alright.
"Yeah dude. Don't get your hopes high though. Cap banned it."
Ugh.
"Said it's dangerous and blah blah blah."
"And rightfully so." Michelle chimes in, and Peter didn't even know she was here. "Imagine all this herd near the alien weapon and superpowered technology."
"O-o-oh, you're the Avengers fan?!" Ned's eyes immediately sparkle as he turns to her.
"Who said so?"
Peter tunes out, looking at the cafeteria. Flash is trying to pour juice into someone's - surprisingly, not Peter's - milk. Yeah. Michelle and Captain Rogers have a point.
But at the same time, what if he could go?! What if they saw him, and remembered how good he did in Berlin (they said so themselves back then), and then Cap would be like 'You could actually help us out with this one, Peter', and Mr. Stark would be like 'I was actually about to tell you to start reporting straight to me, not Happy', and!
And even all that aside, it's just. It would be so cool to just see Mr. Stark.
"Duuude, you totally have a crush." Ned gives him a toothy smile, and Peter realizes, horrified, that he said the last phrase out loud.
"No I don't," he quickly looks around, feeling how hot - and undoubtedly red - his face is. Apparently, Michelle already went away, and Ned was the only one to hear that. Thanks God. "I don't really do crushes, Ned, you know. It's-it's different."
"How different?"
The bell rings, getting them hurrying to Spanish class and saving Peter from the inquisition.
Well, not fully - Ned keeps whispering questions the whole class.
Do you wanna play Kiss-marry-kill and pick from Mr. Stark, Cap and Black Widow?
Would you like him to personally check your internship work?
Imagine if he picked you up from school in one of his cool cars, would you - scratch that, who wouldn’t have wanted it.
Peter is almost grateful when Mr. Ramirez threatens them with detention.
After school he manages to run away, yelling about being late to the internship. The look on Ned's face tells him he's already planning to bombard him with questions tomorrow.
***
The patrolling goes as always. Boring. Yeah, no, it feels great to swing around the city, getting all his energy out and helping wherever it's needed. But so far the highlight of his day is the churro from this nice old Mexican lady - until he sees a robbery near Mr. Delmar's place.
Everything goes exciting at first - he even manages to make a cool fight-talk, before one of the guys pulls out that weird-looking weapon. Peter's muscles tense - and seconds later the whole place explodes. Literally.
He barely remembers how he runs into the sandwich place, helping Mr. Delmar and carrying Murph out. The next thing he sees is the splash of red, white and blue, accompanied by the big wings shadow in the sky. Captain America and Falcon. Peter looks for the flash of red and gold, with the sounds of Led Zeppelin or whatever - heart rabbiting faster than when the actual explosion happened. But there's nothing. He ducks from the Avengers' sight, running into the alley where he left his backpack and clothes, tugs the mask off, and-
"Peter."
For a millisecond his heart drops in his stomach and freezes there, but then he recognizes the voice difference. He turns around to face Steve Rogers - starry shield and all.
"Uh, yes sir? Hi?"
Hi? How lame.
"You were there, fighting with the robbers."
It's not even a question, so Peter just shrugs. Like no biggie, he's doing it every day. Ugh.
"Would you recognize them?"
"No. They were wearing masks, Avengers masks actually. Maybe it's like, something personal?"
Cap makes a thoughtful noise, nodding absentmindedly.
"Where's your friend?" Peter shuts his mouth, but the words are out already.
"Sam?" Cap furrows his brows in confusion. "He's helping with the-"
"No, I saw him." Peter cuts him off. Yeeaaah, May would've been just delighted with his manners. "The other one, from Germany. With the metal arm."
"Oh. Bucky..." there are so many different emotions in how Captain says this name. It feels overwhelming. "He's getting...back to himself. I hope."
He adds the last phrase so quietly that a normal person wouldn't have made it out. Spidey senses deliver it to Peter loud and clear.
"He's nice." Peter offers him a little smile. "Especially when we stopped trying to kill each other."
Captain actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. Then nods back to the explosion.
"Stay away from trouble like this, kid." His face gets the usual shade of solemn. "Those are dangerous people, we'll take care of them."
"I can help!"
"Like I said, it's too dangerous. I'm glad Tony's keeping an eye on you..."
Apparently something's flickering on Peter's face, because Cap frowns. Uh-oh, time to go, time to go. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a trashcan, and giving Cap a bigger and hopefully not so fake smile.
"Um, sorry, but I actually gotta go, Aunt May will start worrying if I'm not home!"
Captain Rogers crosses his arms, worry clearly showing on his face now.
"Peter? He is, right?"
But he just pulls his mask down, jumps off and swings away, leaving the national hero without an answer. Holy shit.
***
He should've just said yes. Because obviously, Happy being his curator is considered as Mr. Stark keeping an eye on him. And maybe Happy not replying to his messages doesn't mean he's not caring! And now Captain Rogers would tell Mr. Stark about his encounter with Peter, and Mr. Stark would come and yell at him, and oh my God. Well, at least he would talk to him. Except if he's gonna call Peter an ungrateful brat who he doesn't want to do anything with, and Peter wouldn't be able to bear that.
He stops mid-climbing, tears the mask off and presses his face into the red-bricked wall of his building. It's cold to the touch. The night air is chilly and dark blue and full of police sirens and big city noises.
All Ned's questions suddenly pop up in Peter's mind, but none of them are helpful. Peter doesn't know how to call what he feels for Tony Stark, what he's longing for, and what label to put it under. He almost wishes it was a crush, because it would be normal. He would be normal.
What lives and burns in his chest is something in between adoration of a role model, falling in love and needing a father figure - or maybe all of those combined.
He wants to be near him. He wants to do as he says and be good for him. Or not do what he says - and find out what happens.
He just wants Tony to really care about him. To care about him the most of all. Like during that short time - no, Peter, stop - in Berlin airport... He tries to stop thinking back to that moment but fails. He lets his eyes close and sees everything as if it's happening right now.
***
Thinking back, adrenaline - that's what Peter felt the most. The rest was just a big noisy mess, flooding the whole world and overwhelming his senses. He missed when and how the reasonable - well, sort of - conversation turned into a fight. Maybe it happened while he was too busy filming? But anyways, everyone was fighting now. And it wasn't a cool battle against baddies, wasn't protecting what's right from what's evil. There weren't bad guys. There were confused guys, hurt guys, guys who didn't manage to talk it all out, and now were too angry and adrenaline-infused to do anything but fight and hurt each other. They reminded Peter a bunch of riled up first graders. What could he do though? Mr. Stark got his full and devoted loyalty...he wasn't sure when exactly that happened. Maybe even before the man burst into his little room, spitting date loaf and making innuendos about May. That's - that's whatever. Peter didn't really want to fight other Avengers, and he wanted Mr. Stark to fight them even less, because he saw how hurt it actually makes him.
Yet, here they were. Fighting.
"Sorry, guys, I just really gotta impress Mr. Stark!" Peter yells to Cap's friends.
One just looks annoyed, and the other - the mysterious metal-armed one - bugs his eyes out. Peter knows that he's the reason the whole ruckus started and that Mr. Stark doesn't like him for some reason.
"S' just a kid," the metal-armed dude breathes out, and okay, now Peter doesn't like him too.
He webs him down to the concrete, smirking under the mask.
"How's that from a kid?!"
Metal Arm is grunting something, but Peter doesn't have time to listen. There's something crazy going on.
"Hey guys, have you ever seen this really old movie, The Empire Strikes Back?!"
His spidey senses are overflowing with information. He's overexcited, high on adrenaline, giddy with being accepted by real superheroes, and-
BOOM.
Something huge, like a train on full speed, smashes into him. Peter sees stars flashing under his eyelids - cartoons don't lie, it really happens - and then everything goes black and he starts falling. He tries to use his webshooters, but for some reason it doesn't work out. Everything's going awfully fast. Peter hears someone cursing, flails his arms around, heart in his stomach - and suddenly there's a strong grip across his body. Peter opens his eyes - turns out he was squeezing them shut - and sees the metal arm. There's a red star on it. The next moment the grip changes, and there's a soothing glow of shiny upturned triangle, and red and gold suit, and Peter blacks out.
When he wakes up, Black Widow is giving Mr. Stark an incredulous look.
"Jesus Christ, Tony. If I knew that's what you meant by 'your guy', I would've said no right away."
Peter pouts at her, and it only makes her nod as if in confirmation.
"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"It's an actual child, Tony!" That's Cap.
Seems like they didn't kill each other while Peter was unconscious. Which is, would be nice to know for how long.  Everything feels funny. Maybe he has a concussion?
"What?! Don't give me that judging glare, Capsicle. You just dropped half a building on that child-"
"And I was wrong!"
"-even your assassin bestie didn't do that."
That's the first time Mr. Stark addresses Metal Arm not as a mortal enemy, and everyone falls quiet, staring.
"And this is what I've been trying to talk to you about," Cap gets everyone's pointed looks and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, okay. I haven't really. And it was wrong of me. I should have."
Peter opens his mouth - for some reason, it feels awfully dry, and it takes an effort to part his lips.
"S' so stupid, you fighting." He cannot believe he's saying this to the Avengers, his heroes, for crying out loud. He definitely has a concussion. "S' how all the worst wars happen..."
He blacks out again after that, and when he wakes up, everything's over. The brewing war that was about to start never happens. Mr. Stark and Captain are talking, then them both and Metal Arm are talking, everyone is talking and no one has time for Peter.
And actually, he should've understood back then - he's just not needed anymore. Because he was just that - 'my guy' as in a help in a fight, not as in 'mine'.
***
He shakes himself out of the memories, realizing he's still clinging to the wall, without a mask, cheek warming up the old bricks. Without a mask! What if someone sees him! What if May sees him - what's he even thinking about!
Peter lets out a sharp breath and quickly picks up his pace. Up, into the window, climb over the ceiling, quietly close the door - why is it even open - on the floor. He taps the suit, letting it loosen and fall down, leaving him in boxers.
"Agility - 10 out of 10. Attention - we're going to negative numbers here." The painfully familiar voice speaks up from the semi-darkness of his bed, and Peter stumbles and plops on his ass.
"Correction, 9 instead of 10." Mr. Stark watches him intently, popping some snack into his mouth.
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blushblushbear · 3 days ago
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So my buddy Nova sent me an off site request!
I'm paraphrasing a bit but the gist is 'what if all the boys were yanderes, and real ones unlike Cole'
so like-- real as in not comedic or unskilled enough to not incur bloodshed or a body count
Alright, Let's go! :)
tw: yanderes, no safety wheels
Nimh: the Dere-est of Deres and the Yan-est of Yans. He has the biggest coin flip in terms of his sweet facade. It's not even really a facade, he really is that sweet, but he also is a lot more deadly than you'd think when pushed to his limits. Also a lot more possessive than you'd realize. You don't really notice at first cause he's so kind about it all, so gentle in his guidance. You don't even notice until it's too late that he's gently guided you right into a cage. A lovely, special cage where you're right there for him to watch and love and care for. He'll never let you leave, but why would you ever want to do that dearest? When he can take such good care of you! He's always been good at taking care of things! Like all those little nuisances that were trying to come between you two. But they don't matter now, you have each other! And all this fretting isn't good for his heart, so why don't you snuggle in next to him and let his love warm and comfort you...
Volks: Low key already one aside from the killing thing. (could only really imagine canon Volks killing in self defense) But he's already got the possessiveness, the stalking, the OBSESSION. He's just grown so attached to you! He wants to make sure you're okay... wants to keep you safe... He knows more than anyone how dangerous the world can be, and if anything ever happened to you-- well.... It's better if that didn't happen. He can't let that happen. So he'll just keep a watchful eye, let you shine so bright, just sitting there silently basking in your glory. And if anything rears it's ugly head, he'll take care of it, no matter what...
Kelby: So I almost can't imagine him being a yandere. And I think he can't imagine it either! That is, until you came along. Meeting you, something in him just--- changed.... or maybe more, something in him snapped... he tried to ignore it, tried to play everything cool. And he manages! For the most part... but he finds himself texting you more, checking on you more, following you more, tracking you more... He doesn't need you right there with him every second of every day--- he just needs to know where you are at all times. To make sure you're safe. To make sure you're happy... he's probably one of the slowest to hurt anyone over you, but when push comes to shove, he will do it. And he'll feel bad about it-- but not bad enough that he won't do it again if need be...
Eli: He's like a pretty little glitter trap. All fun and songs and kooky energy! You started as friends and he knew pretty early on that you were his new little obsession. He's had them before-- where he's crushing so hard and low key cyber stalking them lol! But it's just-- different with you. He's used to being jealous sometimes, he DOES like to be the center of attention after all-- but something about you paying attention to other people fills him with a new kind of jealousy he's never felt before. It makes him so mad he could be SICK. He always swoops in and steals your attention back, but just doing that doesn't seem enough anymore. The constant texting while trying to play it cool aren't enough for him now. Cyber stalking turns into actual stalking, and he needs to know where you are every second. Needs all your attention, all your love. All for HIM! He invite you over more often, he still plays it coy, plays it silly, plays it cool-- but the way he watches you when you sleep belies how deep in his is. He knows he's being a mess, knows he's turning into a bit of a monster, but he just can't help it... He wants to keep it playful, but he's not afraid to call in some favors and get dark.
Anon: Plays it the coolest in front of you, is the most freakishly obsessed behind your back. Constantly watching and tracking you. Also constantly keeping tabs on everyone you come into contact with. He's not afraid to burn some lives to the ground at the drop of a hat. Either cause they messed with you or cause they got a little too comfy. He maybe doesn't want you around constantly, but he's constantly going to be watching you. He also uses this info to help win you over more and more. He knows everything about you, and no one, especially not you, can hide form him.
Garret: Some what similar to Nimh but not as extreme either way. Also he's to some degree unaware at how much of a line he's crossing. He stalks you on accident and doesn't think twice about it. He lingers and cares for you and while he's nice and even tempered most of the time, if someone is mean to you even a little they are getting towered over and glared down.
Dmitri: You're not his first ever target of affection, but you're defiantly his most intense. And I feel like he's going to even further lengths over you without necessarily meaning to. Like-- normally he learns every aspect he can about his latest darling so he can woo and win them, but he always plays it cool about it. With you, he is full on loosing his ability to cool. He's so desperately obsessed this time-- IT MUST BE LOVE! Also the jealous he feels, he usually doesn't feel jealous this hard or sometimes even at all (even if his target likes someone else, they will never LOVE them like they WILL love him. He'll make sure of that) but with you, oooo he's feeling the jealousy, and he's not sure what to do about it, but he'll probably do something....
Ichiban: another in the tries to play it cool and low key fails camp. I think he probably publicly laid claim to you before even officially asking you out, and will constantly bring you up in the way of 'oh, MY marshmallow'. makes it very clear no one is to mess with you in anyway and the only time he's not super nice or sweet is when they do. He's normally great with his fans but if someone says even a slightly bad word about you his smile disappears immediately and they are perma-banned from all his platforms. Likes to have you in pics with him or have you on the stream sometimes. Just letting everyone know you're HIS.
William: seems SOOOOO mild mannered, and he is, but he's also deadly serious about you. It's one of those happy loving relationships that seem so perfect on the outside and he's just a wonderful boyfriend/husband. And he is-- to you. But the moment someone even slightly puts you in danger or tries to get too close to you, they just weirdly ghost the world...
Myx: Another dude who publicly makes it known you're his. Constantly dedicating songs to you, calling you his muse or his heart, always having you around in pictures and sometimes even on stage. He's super chill and happy and friendly until something Happens and then he's got security throwing their asses out onto the streets. He'd never lay hands on anyone himself but he knows people and he has security.
Stirling: seems very chill and low key and romantic but it's a trap. He's using his sweet nothings to lure you into his castle. He'll find a way to keep you there, and dispose of anyone and everyone who comes looking for you. You will be his. You will live happily with him. He'll make sure of it.
Scale: STALKING MASTER. Also the king of getting rid of people quietly before you even know that they're a problem. Fully hides the more edgy parts of himself around you. Generally he's just a very sweet, attentive, dorky little edge lord nerd whose trying to make a sweet little life with you. But he's also very deadly in ways he'll never let you know. Things with him are very happy and safe, at least for you.
Sven: Is the most aggressively sunshine and the most insanely touched in the head when the darkness comes out. He seems so sweet and goofy and innocent until you see the blood and his smile as he reassures you he took care of it.
Cole: ya know that thick book, small book meme that's been around?? yeah, there was one time I saw that labeled 'Blush Blush, Blush Blush if Cole had a gun'. Yeah just--- put that meme right here.
Poe: Poe-ssessive! Ba dum psh! But nah, he gets jealous real fast. He shares none of it with you though. He keeps those feelings between him and his poetry-- and the 'little accidents' that can happen at night if he's too far gone. VERY obsessed, lots of poetry all about you littering his living space along with a million photos, only some of which you posed for (the others are taken in secret). Just a weird little obsessive goth kid whose maybe just quietly unhinged a bit.
Cashew: Another one in the you never see it coming camp. He's just such a sweet little awkward boy whose so clearly got it bad. He just seems eager until you stumble upon his room and find all sorts of photos taken from bushes and lists of things you like and places you go and a napkin you used and a bit of your hair--- it's honestly quite the collection. He also has a list of people you talk to regularly and brainstorming notes on how to get rid of them-- all leaning towards bloodless but when push comes to shove he's willing to get dark about it.
Seth: Nightmare man. All the stalking and watching and gifts and curses that make it so if anyone tries to talk to you their teeth start to fall out. He's not afraid to come off at massively scary or creepy and he's not going to take no for an answer. The riddle of how to make you love him is one he doesn't have the answer for yet, but he will.
Reece: It's easy to stalk your beloved when you can literally follow them from birth to death via time travel. He's going to use this to make him a constant presence in your life. See all your best and worst moments, find out all your favorite and least favorite things, just generally studying you-- finding out what makes you tick. You're his favorite subject. And he knows how to keep a watchful eye, just in case...
Logan: Another one in the very chill category, it actually takes him a lot to go full psycho and he's really resistant to anything too dangerous. He's mostly the kind to trap you in a way you don't realize your being trapped. Bury you with sweetness and make you his by just outshining any chance the competition had.
{I feel like I've done the kitsunes before--- I think I have!}
Aki: lil freak who doesn't realize how much of a little freak he's being. WAAAAY too into you, stalks you a bunch, learns all your favorite things, gets very jealous and possessive but plays it off very playful and oh me I'm just a wittle guy! A wittle guy that wuvs you! Wuvs you so much! Don't buy it, he's way more dangerous than he's letting on.
Haru: POSSESSIVE. PETTY. DESPERATE. He fell in love and kinda snapped about it and will go to any number of lengths so you won't leave him. EVER.
Fuyu: Mostly the scary type whenever you're not around or your back is turned. Can maybe be a little demanding with you but generally he goes all sad puppy or melting love struck idiot whenever you're around. VERY VERY VERY PROTECTIVE. Doesn't wish to spill blood again but will in a heartbeat if it's for you. (either to protect you or cause you asked, he's a little desperate to keep you happy I won't lie)
Ace: desperate, nervous, a little bit cracked. Comes off as mostly harmless and awkward and he mostly is. But he's also taking so many pictures of you from the bushes and collecting little things you throw away. I can't honestly see him hurting anyone??? I think if he'd have jealousy or any kind of negative emotion he's more likely to turn it inward?? like--- he just blames himself for not being better and vows to keep trying until he's the best for you. Another desperate to make you happy, he's maybe doormat levels of will do anything for you.
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son-solo-palabrass · 1 day ago
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This blog is slowly turning into a Yellowjackets stan acc and I'm not even mad about it so it's time to share my experience watching the show as a former Scouts group member, as well as someone who used to have the same kind of friendship as jackie and shauna had w their best friend. (Not romantically tho) (I was the Shauna of the situation)
So, I was a Scout Girl from ages 11 till 17 aprox and in that group I met this girl who'd end up being like the Jackie to my Shauna; we were the best of friends, we did everything together, we grew up together, we went through adolescence together and, eventually, we broke apart bc of the trauma we shared (not as bad trauma as The Girls, of course). This girl was EVERYTHING to me, she was the first person I told about the eating disorder I developed as a teen, the first person I told about my sexuality conflicts, and the first person I tried drugs with. We had a bond like no other and I honestly thought we would be Best Friends Forever. She was the It Girl in my Scouts group and I was happy to be her Second on everything.
I wouldn't say I was in love with her? But I did love her like no other.
Obviously we grew apart bc you can only be the Second to someone for so long until you eventually realize that it isn't the best thing to be, just like Shauna did.
While on the Scouts group we would constantly go on camping trips bc that's what you do, and I can see a lot of resemblances between the dynamics of the Yellowjackets on the wilderness and the dynamics that developed between all of us during these trips.
Day one of the trip you're still the same as before, you adapt to the situation just like you would in "the real world", you go through chores, you try to make do with whatever you've brought, you act almost the same as you would at home. But by the third or fourth day you're not in the Real World anymore; you get used to the new routines, you let go of some habits bc they don't actually make a lot of sense in the place you are right now. And also, you're parent free, so you kind of start feeling like This Is Your Life Now. By the fifth day you're deep into this new scenario and you start to feel different, more free from conventions and like you can do whatever you want/need to "survive". The dynamics also change; eventually one person does rise up as The Leader bc we as humans usually look for someone to follow, especially in situations like this, where you're away from everything you know and you're forced to be more in charge of your own "survival", so I can understand to a deep level what happened to the Yellowjackets (minus the deaths/near death situations/extreme survival ofc) as a group and why they went so, and I quote, "fucking nuts".
I mean, we used to be crazy emotionally unstable by the end of these camping trips, and they were only 2 weeks long (at most), so I can only imagine what it would be like to, not only be on that kind of situation for as long as the YJ did, but also carring the whole lot of baggage and untreated trauma that being on a plane crash and seeing so many of your friends die tragic horrible deaths, can bring. But I can see myself succumbing to those same dynamics the girls did, bc when you're away from everything you know and are used to, with a bunch of people that are mostly kids/teenagers (although we did have adults taking care of us and stuff, they were also like pretty young adults. At the time I saw them as The Adults In Charge, but as a currently 26 y/o myself I can say they probably had no fucking clue what to do with 10 to 15 teenagers and how to meet their emotional needs at all) you tend to go a little wild. You leave behind some inhibitions, you start seeing these people you share every single second of your day with as the only people in the world bc, at the time, they are. And you get fed up over small things like someone not pitching in as much as the rest or not taking The Group's needs into consideration (ex: the piss bucket thing), and they pile up until this teeny tiny thing that, in The Real World wouldn't even bother you, becomes The Worst Thing anyone could do. I remember getting pissed at someone for not washing their mug or leaving a piece of clothing on the makeshift table overnight.
What I'm trying to say here are two things:
1. The way the YJ acted, the things they did, the fights they had, etc. are not far fetched from reality AT ALL. They're all things can, do and WILL happen if you put a bunch of teenage girls in the woods for the right amount of time. I'm not justifying the horrible things they did ofc but, at least up until the Doomcomming shrooms fiasco, everything that they did and everything that happened, I can see teenage Scout me acting the same way; fuck, I can even see little me becoming The Butcher bc they were so angry at the world and so desperate to be their own person apart from The Second and wanting to feel useful to the rest of the group.
And 2. I'm pretty sure that if me and my then friends had ended up in a situation similar to the YJ, I would've also probably ended up consuming my best friend like Shauna did, bc I remember the feeling of wanting to have her all to myself, to be one with her, to HAVE her, to BE her, to become ONE. I can remember the jealousy I felt whenever I saw her bonding with someone that wasn't me, which I then associated to wanting to be popular like her but now I realize that I didn't want to be her on those moments, I wanted to be everyone else and experience her like they did in every way, shape and form possible, I wanted to be the only one that could understand her. And I think that was inevitably what threw us apart all these years ago, bc as I said, you can only be the Second to someone for so long until you eventually realize that it isn't the best thing to be
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realtapiocafan · 1 month ago
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justin jefferson/ja'marr chase - in another universe we're still best friends
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the two best wide receivers, in college and in the nfl
💛💜
Carissa Potter // Cocaine Jesus, Rainbow Kitten Surprise // I thought id know you forever.., Olivia Ruby // Old Friends, Ben Rector // Breathe, Taylor Swift // The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire, Ritika Jyala // How to Lose a Friend, Wafia // I Still Forget We’re Not Even Friends, Trista Mateer // The Frost, Mitski // The Underrated Heartache, Rupi Kaur // Send My Love (To Your New Lover), Adele // Wrong Side of a Fistfight, Ashe Vernon // White Ferrari, Frank Ocean // Sue Zhao // Poem, Langston Hughes // Welcome to Castle Irwell, Crywank // The Light That Shines When Things End, Iain S Thomas // The Kids Aren’t Alright, Fall Out Boy 
Who will do ‘The Griddy’ first on Sunday?
Justin Jefferson hungry to overcome family’s LSU demons
LSU's dynamic wide receiver group key to newly potent attack
How The Griddy swept over the NFL, and beyond
#justin jefferson#ja'marr chase#jjmarr#this is my BABY y'all don't know how long i've worked on this#dedicated to the friends we've all grown apart from#which is part of life! part of growing up!#it wasn't anyone's fault#but it still hurts#when you realize that you don't know your friend anymore. not like you used to.#but you still know a part of them that no one else knows#i still think they're friends!#just not as close as they used to be#but they're still connected to each other in a way that they'll never be with anyone else#the first third is looking back at lsu and all of the memories they share and they really were attached at the hip#then the slow but inevitable drift as they entered the nfl and can't talk to each other as often#the last part is dedicated to the friendship that still remains (you can never forget someone who was that important to you)#all the old lsu photos and videos... they were so small!#couldn't stop laughing at the silly purple gifs#i made my first gifs for this!#get the gat! them dancing! laughing at the white house! their handshakes! laughing in the taylor rooks interview!#also included a video of said interview of jjmarr talking about their relationship#y'all won't believe this but it's actually HARD to find videos of ja'marr and justin griddying together in lsu#had to include the sparkling from this year#and the griddies! forever connected by the griddy!#i think this is considered#web weaving#lmk if smtg doesn't show up or you want to know where a specfic photo/gif came from#pls show love <3#fifi's edits
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sunnywalnut · 7 months ago
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When somebody who previously didn't like you starts talking adamantly to you and sharing gossip and suddenly you're eight years old again handing out advice because you're so thirsty for friends and attention
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myheartxmyman · 11 months ago
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The You I knew seems to be gone.. Last year I tried to find the old you, I couldn't reach you anymore. Wasn't able to feel our bond the way it had been and I got more and more desperate.
Those last week's I am not desperate, I am truly unhappy, sad, feeling alone while being in 'a partnership', I am deeply hurt, and at the same time trying to get over those feelings I feel. Sometimes being with you is just too much, because I want nothing more than spending time with you, but I am not feeling it. It hurts. Sometimes being in your presence makes me feel so so lonely. Sometimes I have to be alone, because it feels like I am still fighting to keep my sanity after you did what you did. You ripped my heart completely open and gave not one shit. I am still suffering that much and I don't know how to make it stop.
Meanwhile I KNOW, you behaved in a horrible and cruel way towards me. Not just once but again and again and again. It seems like you don't even are aware of that. But that's one of the things I am trying to tell you. You don't seem to spend a lot of time even thinking about us, me, my feelings and so on. I feel like you're not reflecting yourself, it's more like you are running from something; and I think somehow it's you. I wish you would for once try to understand my feelings, put yourself in my shoes, see why your actions made me behave in certain ways. You broke my trust not just once or twice, how am I supposed to open up to you again? I won't talk to you if my trust level is that low. That's how it is. And at the same time this situation is hurting me over and over again. Because what we shared was something special, and now we're so close to losing each other. Somehow it feels like I am waiting and waiting for nothing, because we don't seem to be on your mind anymore. You want to talk to me, you're blaming me.. Why don't you listen to my words? When did you get blind? I am hurting, I am unhappy, I don't want to leave, but I fear 'this' is not going anywhere. We are standing still.
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gojonanami · 4 months ago
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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 ❞
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❝ SATORU GOJO HAS LOVED YOU SINCE YOU WERE KIDS - HE’S GONNA MAKE YOU HIS ! ❞
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✧ series: call it what you want (part one)
✧ pairing: younger!satoru gojo x reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo fell in love with you from the moment he met you at eight years old. and now, in his twenties, when he sees you again after you move back to be closer to your aunt and your cousin, suguru, he knows — he has to make you his by the end of the summer.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, eventual smut, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, fake dating, gojo is four years younger than you, rich boy!gojo, suguru is your little cousin, very fluffy, slow burn, like they don't even kiss, but they will :), love at first sight for gojo, naoya is your ex,
✧ w/c: 15,285
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“Never thought we’d be doing this, did you?” Satoru muttered in your ear, breath fanning hot against your neck, “be a little quieter, sweetheart, otherwise Suguru might hear us,” 
You whine, but his fingers drag against your kiss bitten lips, until the digits slide into your mouth, as his hips rut against yours. And you didn’t think you’d ever be in position with your cousin’s best friend — pressed to the doorway of your apartment where Suguru could walk in at anytime. 
This isn't what you thought would happen when you invited him over to talk. This isn't what you thought would happen when you agreed to pretend to date him. This isn't what you thought about -- but how could you think about anything with the way his breath felt against your skin?
He loved you -- loved you since you were kids, and he couldn't let you go, not like this. Not when he had you.
Not that you even wanted him to.
You didn’t think you’d shiver as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck, tongue flicking against your burning skin. You never thought you’d want to moan his name, like you had, far too many times. 
“You may have never thought about this, Princess, but I sure have,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, the wet sounds your skin slapping together, as he reaches around your body, pinned on your stomach to the mattress, to rub at your swollen clit, drawing a muffled cry from your lips, “far too many times,” 
In fact, Satoru Gojo knew exactly the first time he fell for you. It was the day he first met you. 
“Be my girlfriend!” 
It was less of a question and more of a statement.  
One declared in the doorway of your room, with flushed cheeks and flowers in hand. And they weren’t your cheeks or hands, but your baby cousin’s best friend. 
The first time Satoru Gojo asked you out was at the ripe old age of eleven, but truth be told he had held this crush since the moment he saw you when he had come over to Suguru’s house for the first time, almost three years ago now.
Your fingers brushed his as you gently took the flowers, “Satoru, you know I care about you, but not like that. You’re better off seeing other people your own age, ok?” You smiled at him, the same way you always did, a slight pout on his lips as he nodded, saying nothing more. 
And you knew you were right — there was no fucking question that you were right. He was eleven and you were fifteen — an age gap untenable and unreachable.
But now—
“Long time no see,” Satoru said, lips curled in an all too cocky smile that you couldn’t believe belonged to the same blushing kid who confessed so earnestly back then, “it’s been too long,” your name rolled off his tongue with a familiarity that was the same but all too different. 
But he wasn’t a kid anymore — far from it. It had been over a decade since you had seen him, as the summer he confessed was the last one you had spent at your aunt and uncle’s home. And you and your family moved overseas shortly after that, and you didn’t return until now, four years after you graduated college, for a job offer you couldn’t pass up. 
And you didn’t realize that so much time had passed. 
But he did. 
“Eh? What do you mean you can’t help me unpack today, Sugu?” you hold the phone between your ear and shoulder, as you rip open the tape on yet another box you had hauled into the proper room to unpack, “you told me—“ 
“I told you I’d help you unpack if I had time. But now, I’m stuck at work until the evening,” you heard your cousin sigh over the phone, “But don’t worry — you’ll have help—“ 
You’re too busy trying to rip the tape off as you rip into Suguru to notice the door creaking open behind you, “Suguru, I swear to god if you’re sending a total random stranger to help me—“ 
“Not a total stranger,” a voice says behind you, and your head whips around so quick, you nearly drop your phone, gripping it, “unless not seeing me for years makes me one,” 
A mess of white locks and sunglasses tilted downward to reveal a hint of his cerulean eyes that you could never forget — but still, you barely recognize the man that has them. Even if the grin on his lips with the lilting sound of his voice told you that he very much recognized you. 
“Satoru?” Suguru’s explanation falls on deaf ears, as Satoru’s eyes don’t bother to take in your new place, all too focused on you, hands slipping into his pockets, “you—“ 
He steps forward and plucks the phone from your fingers, “Yo Suguru, I told you it’d be better as a surprise,” and you gape at him, as his grin curls wider, “yeah, yeah, I didn’t take the phone to have you lecturing me — I get enough of that from my dad,” and Suguru says something that makes Satoru’s cheeks flush, and he hangs up, before his attention returns to you, “so, shall we unpack?” 
A few minutes turns into hours of hauling boxes inside and then unpacking them. It’s relatively silent, surprisingly for Satoru. The silence was a far cry from the boy who couldn’t shut up for two seconds, telling you about the test he aced or something stupid that one of his classmates said or asking you about your day. 
Instead you watch him haul boxes like they were filled with styrofoam and air from the truck outside, and then lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, a flash of his abs shiny with perspiration. Your eyes dart away, suddenly incredibly fascinated with the contents of this box of kitchenware you opened up, cheeks burning, wondering when did the little boy you looked after become a man? 
“Princess, where do you want this?” Satoru lifts a box, and you can’t see the writing on it from the angle he picks it up. 
“Do you still have to call me Princess?” The embarrassing nickname your aunt had given you still stuck — the one that Suguru would always tease you with, while Satoru’s decidedly lacked any malice, “my aunt only called me that because she wanted a girl so bad,” 
“Is that why Suguru is growing out his hair now? Trying to fulfill her dreams?” You snort, as you walk over to him, “it still fits you regardless of the reason Princess,” 
You’re close, even with the box providing glancing around the box until you find it scrawled on the box underneath his arm — his very…muscular arm, veins bulging and muscles tense underneath the weight of the box—
“So this is stuff for my bedroom, you can just leave it on the floor, it’s right over here,” you lead him over and he places down the box, “I think that’s mostly it, I’m sorry Suguru made you come down here to help,” 
“You don’t need to apologize, I wanted to see you,” and you smile softly, “it’s been too long,” 
“It really has,” and your neck strains a little with how he towered over you, “can't believe you’re the same little boy I used to babysit,” 
And he rolls his eyes, “Suguru would say it’s arguable I could still use a babysitter,” and you chuckle, “I’m not so little anymore, but I wouldn’t mind if you were my babysitter,” 
Was he? No. No, he wasn’t. 
Right? 
“Stop fucking around,” you shake your head, as you head into the kitchen, “do you want to wash up, and then maybe I’ll order take out to thank you?” You’re turning on the faucet. 
You don’t notice the slight pout on his lips, one he schools into a smile as you glance back at him, blinking as you find him shirtless. 
Fuck. How was it possible for a person to be this gorgeous? Sweat slid down his body, slipping between the dips of his chest and ridges of his abs until disappearing into the fabric of his pants, or somewhere hidden— 
You look away — “I’d rather take a shower. Do you mind?” And you force your voice not to come out a squeak, busying yourself with washing your hands, just so you don’t have to look. 
“Yeah, of course, the bathroom is just around the corner. There should already be fresh towels inside,” and yet his steps grow closer, as you glance back, “uh—“ 
He’s still fucking shirtless. 
“Instead of take out, can we grab dinner somewhere? You haven’t been back to the area recently so it’s a good chance to show you around,” 
“You really don’t have to—“ 
“I want to, Princess,” he cuts you off, reaching around you to grab a water bottle off the counter, “get ready while I clean up?” 
And you bite your lip, “Okay, okay,” and he grins back, a glimpse of the little boy that beams at you when you’d praise him for a high mark on a test. 
“It’s a date!” And he’s off, disappearing into the bathroom, and you’re left there, wondering — what had you gotten yourself into? 
~~~
“So,” Satoru lifts a spoonful of his dessert — a fruit parfait with a sugar coma inducing amount of whipped cream — and you were almost relieved to see some things about him hadn’t changed. How many times had you scolded him as a kid not to eat so much sugar — and he still hasn’t kicked the habit. You bit back your chuckle, as he spoke, “did you get dumped?” 
You almost choke on your drink, as you splutter for a moment, before glaring at him. 
And yet the more they stayed the same. 
“I see you’re as subtle as you were when you were 11,” you mutter, setting your drink down, as you wipe your mouth with a napkin. Satoru tilts his head, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 
“So you dumped him?” He leans back, “I didn’t know you had such high standards,” your cheeks burn, distracting yourself with becoming enthralled in the menu — Satoru had dragged you to a hole in the wall barbecue place (after your insistence that you didn’t want anything fancy after unpacking for hours). 
“How did you know I broke—“ and you cut yourself off at the obviousness of the answer, slapping another piece of meat on the grill, the sizzle punctuated by your words, “I’m going to murder him,” 
“Well, you’re in the right place to dispose of his body,” Satoru licks the spoon clean, before sticking it back in the whipped cream, “why did you break up with him?” 
You shrugged, “I realized he was a narcissistic prick who only wanted me as a trophy,” and Satoru whistled lowly,  “I’m done with dating losers. And dating in general,” 
“I don’t think you should give up on dating just because you had a few bad experiences,” his voice grows soft, “you deserve to be happy and taken care of, even if you have bad taste,” 
And you pout, “I don’t have-“ and he tilts his head, and you lift a few pieces of meat from the grill onto your plate, tongs clattering slightly as you set it down, “fuck, I do,” you groan, shaking your head, “that’s why I had to get out of there. Just needed a fresh start you know?” 
“Sometimes that’s just what you need,” and your lips curl. 
“Sounds like you speak from experience,” and his eyes flit up to yours, gleaming in the low light of the restaurant, cerulean irises catching the drops of light like comets across his gaze. 
“Don’t know what you mean, Princess,” he busies himself with his parfait, and you scoff. 
“Come on, half the girls in this place are glaring at me while I sit here, the waitress has been flirting with you, and now they had brought you out the biggest dessert that I’m starting to wonder if they even serve it here,” he spares a glance around, several gasps from giggling girls who avert their gazes, before his eyes are back on you. 
“Jealous?” You roll your eyes — he wasn’t lacking for ego at least. 
“More like wondering what a guy like you is still doing single,” and he sighs, leaning back, with a tilt of his head. 
“You sure are curious about me,” and his gaze softens for a moment, while he picks at his dessert, scooping the strawberry off the top, “there’s only really been one person that I really wanted,” his tone grew more serious, lips in a bittersweet smile, “but she’s never really looked me like that,” 
“Don’t tell me it’s one of those things where she rejected you and you have to have her now,” and he chuckles, shaking his head, gaze far too wistful. 
His words are slow, as slow as the ice melting in your glass, “It’s more of if I don’t have her, I don’t want anyone else,” and your heart squeezed — would you ever have someone care so deeply for you? 
“Then why haven’t you said anything?” you picked up another piece of meat off the grill, “anyone would be lucky to be with you,” and you meant it — he was blunt, but also kind, sweet, not to mention rich and you flushed as you thought back to his hiked up shirt — good looking. 
But he only stares back at you, tilting his head — expression unreadable, an emotion you can’t grasp before it’s hidden under his gaze’s tempered waters, “Are you included, Princess?” 
There’s a pause, as you almost chuckle, but your laugh dying in your throat at his expression — that same smirk, but the way he looks at you stops your mind in its tracks — only one word rolling around in your head: what? 
And your brow furrows, your lips parting in a response you don’t have — only questions, ones you don’t get to ask as Suguru slides in beside you. 
“Sorry, I’m late,” Suguru sighs, the moment broken, and you don’t catch Satoru’s expression, too distracted by your cousin, “got stuck in a staff meeting,” 
“I told you academia is hell,” you elbow him, and Suguru rolls his eyes, as he shrugs off his suit coat, “were these meetings the reasons you got held up or are they just an excuse so you didn’t have to help me?” 
“Who said it can’t be both?” And he earns a smack to his shoulder, your attention turning back to Satoru, his gaze fixed outside. 
“You’re unusually quiet, Satoru” Suguru kicks him lightly under the table, “not like you,” 
He looks at you first — and you grasp the emotion he had hid before — what was it? Sadness? Longing? — right before it’s gone again as he slides his mask back on, grinning as he always does. 
“What can I say? The view outside is much better than your ugly mug,” and the two of them begin to bicker, and you lean back in your seat, a smile pulling at your lips, even as you glanced back at Satoru. 
And now you wondered if you would ever get an answer to your questions. Or maybe, you sipped your drink, it was better not to have it answered at all. 
~~~
Satoru Gojo was eleven years old when he fell in love with you. It was from the moment he met you. 
And there hasn’t been anyone else since. 
He supposed it was inevitable in a way — since Suguru was his best friend, and his first, and when his family finally decided to enroll him in school, instead opting for private tutors, for the social aspect of making connections, of course. Because what else was your eleven year old son good for then helping to make future business deals easier? 
But Satoru made friends with the one person who couldn’t help their deals — Suguru Geto, one of the only scholarship students in the entire school. And Satoru’s want to avoid spending his days with servants or on the rare occasion, dealing with his dad’s lecture for getting in another ‘disagreement’ with one of his classmates (that ended with that classmate crying after Satoru evaded his punch and kicked him in the shin), ended up with him at Suguru’s place. A lot. 
Then soon enough, he was spending most of his summers there too. And that’s when he saw you. 
“You said your cousin’s here? Is she nice?” Satoru asked, taking off his shoes, as Suguru shut the door behind them. 
“She is, except when she’s being a pain about homework. And when she gets mad, she reminds me of my mom,” Suguru grimaced, as he walked past him, calling out for you. You rounded the corner, book in hand, and Satoru’s eyes grew wide. 
“Hey Sugu, you brought a friend?” You walked over, still clad in your high school uniform, before introducing yourself, and offering him a warm smile, “it’s nice to meet you. I’m Suguru’s cousin,” 
Satoru didn’t know what this feeling was — and he wouldn’t until a few more summers passed, and his hormones kicked in — but all he knew was that he would do anything to see you smile like that at him again. And he did — he would spend as much time as he could with you — talking to you about a test he aced, about something funny that happened at school, or even ratting on Suguru about what he was up to (earning him many knocks to the head by his best friend). But every time you smiled or laughed, it was worth it — worth every second he spent counting down the time to summer break so he could see you again. 
But he didn’t know his seconds would run out so soon — and he only learned one random day going home with Suguru, from a snippet of a conversation he had with his mom. 
“I know, I know she’s coming next week,” Satoru’s interest hadn’t been peaked by Suguru’s conversation until then, because he knew exactly who they were talking about. After all, you always came right at the start of break, and finally he could see you again — and maybe this time, he could tell you how he felt. 
“I know, I know it’s her last time here so it has to be perfect,” and Satoru’s head snapped back to Suguru, last time? “I will,” and Suguru hangs up, a sigh on his lips, “my mom is being so annoying about my cousin. So what it’s her last time staying with us? It doesn’t mean we have to—“ 
“What do you mean it’s her last time?” Satoru kept his tone steady and slow, even as his heart thrummed against his ribs as if it was a xylophone, “she always comes every summer—“ 
“Of high school,” Suguru corrected him, “she is applying to university this year — most of them are abroad, and it seems likely she won’t be back in Japan, not for a while,” Suguru continued to complain on their way back to his place, but all Satoru could do was think about you. 
It was your last summer with him. His last chance to make a move, to be something more than your younger cousin’s friend. His last chance to make you see him as a man, not a kid. 
He had to confess, his fingers curled into fists, before the end of the summer. He would make you his girlfriend — one way or another. 
And he did confess back then, Satoru thought, as he picked up a photo, wrinkled and yellowed at the corners, a picture that Suguru’s mom had taken of you and him the summer you had left. A candid of him and you looking at each other — one that Suguru’s mom had slipped to him with a knowing smile and a wink (one that had mortified him as a teenager). 
He was always looking at you — no matter where he was, his eyes always found your form, a magnet to its opposite pole, and he didn’t know how to stop you from drawing him in. It had been over a decade and he still couldn’t. 
He stared at your smiling face, the very same face that had looked at you with a smile fading to confusion this evening. He had gotten so close to asking you — to telling you how he felt — and he flips to the next picture, a scowl on his face as a picture of him and Suguru with his smug smile stared back at him. If only fucking Suguru hadn’t interrupted. 
He shook his head, flipping back to his picture of you. This wasn’t the summer and he wasn’t a kid anymore. And you weren’t out of his reach, bound for another country across the ocean. No, you were here — only a short drive away. 
And he made a promise to himself — he would get you to fall in love with him, before the end of this summer. 
~~~
You hate first days. 
“Did you see the guy waiting outside?” one woman whispered not so softly as you passed by. 
“Yeah looks like he’s waiting for her,” the other’s lips formed a frown but only to hide her smirk. 
From the time you were a kid, your first day of school was something you had all the time from your family moving around. You were always the new kid — the one who would be met with wide eyes and curiosity, only to be tossed aside a few days later. 
But this was a fresh start that you had wanted — a new job far away from where you had started, with new responsibilities — a first day you had looked forward to, until it went so downhill. 
And it was all your ex’s fault. 
You texted Suguru — is it too early to quit on the first day? 
He replies, well it’s been four hours, think you’ve lasted through one of my dad’s long winded stories longer than that. What happened? 
You glanced outside towards the front of the building. It was more like ‘who happened?’ 
It was an innocuous enough morning, of introductions, trainings, orientation, and finally computer set up. You were rifling through your paperwork, trying to figure out what sheet looked the least daunting when someone called for you. 
“There’s someone looking for you outside the lobby,” you saw a flurry of looks shared and smirks shot in your direction, and when you arrived downstairs you knew why. 
What. The. Fuck. 
You couldn’t help it. You bursted outside, “what are you doing here?” It was your ex — the very same ex who had started at the same overseas company after you both graduated and the one you had. And again, had chosen to follow you here. 
“Waiting for you to change yer mind,” Naoya tilts his head, hands in his pocket, “and I know you will, because you love me,” he raises his voice to catch the eye of several passerby, and you grab his wrist, dragging him away. 
“Fuck off,” you hiss under your breath, “I told you it’s over, and don’t you have a fucking job?” 
“Did you forget? I’m rich, another reason ya can’t do better than me,” Naoya’s lips curl into that same grin, one you knew as charming once, until you saw past his pretty pink lips and glimpsed the sharp fangs behind them, “I took time off. Did ya think it was a coincidence we ended up at the same company?” 
You gritted your teeth, “Naoya—“ and he breaks from your grip, instead his fingers dig into your wrist. 
“All ya are is me. All that you have is me. And all you will have is me,” he dared closer, breath warming your lips, as he took hold of your other wrist and tugged you close, “the sooner you accept that, the better, doll,” 
‘Doll.’ The term of endearment you had seen as precious to you. Something you always loved to hear roll off his tongue, the word you had learned to learned to reply to, even more than your own name. The one you regarded with such love had burned, burned until the flames licked your skin and knew what it really meant — a doll with strings, one he was meant to be the master of. 
“Don’t call me that,” you rip your hands away, “leave. You’re embarrassing yourself,” 
“Am I?” He tilts his head, jerking his head in the direction of your building where your offices had a clear view of this, “or am I just embarrassing you?” 
You stared out the window for a moment and you knew he was still out there — judging but the way your phone was on the verge of suicide by notification, he was still very much there. And now, all people would know of you is the new worker with a crazy stalker ex. 
I’m calling the police, Suguru’s text popped up, what’s your workplace’s address? 
You think I hadn’t thought of that, Sugu? You sigh, he’s not doing anything. He’s on a public sidewalk. They can’t do anything to him. 
Another text: when do you get out? You glance at the time, seeing another two coworkers whisper to each other, stealing looks. 
An eternity — In another two hours. 
I’ll handle it. Just wait in the lobby after work. And you frown. 
Sugu, I can handle it. I don’t need you to come down here. 
You always fought your battles. You didn’t need anything else to — or anyone else to pick them for you. Not even your baby cousin — no matter how sweet his intentions were. 
Don’t worry. I’m not coming down. And you frown, staring at the text, before your phone rings, and you groan as ‘Assistant Director’ flashes on the screen.  
You were so fired. 
You weren’t — as you shut the door of his office behind you. However, he did advise you that this company had a strict no nonsense policy and did want personal drama to be dredged up in the office. And you were given the day to sort out your “mess.” 
You scrub a hand down your face, but it wasn’t even your mess, and how would you fix it? He wasn’t going to listen to you. You sit at your desk, packing up your bag for the day. And your phone vibrates. 
Come down. 
You hesitate, But he’s still downstairs. 
Just go. 
Fuck. You sling your bag over your shoulder, piercing eyes digging into your back, vultures circling an already dead carcass, whispering still even as the elevators doors shut. 
And you almost wish they never opened when you see what’s waiting for you outside. 
Fuck. 
You grit your teeth, stomach in absolute knots as if to brace yourself for the complete shitstorm you’re about to deal with. 
“Satoru?” 
Satoru Gojo leaned back against his expensive (likely imported) car, shiny as it was new, sunglasses glinting in the light, but not brighter than the grin he gives you. He holds out your favorite drink, a tilt of his head. 
“Are you ready to go?” 
You glance around, as he places the drink in your hand, “But what about—“
“Let go of me!” 
Satoru’s lips curl, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, “Oh, I’ve gotten him handled,” 
Naoya stood between two men restraining him, both in suits, as his face contorted in anger, veins bulging, eyes darting between the two of you, “Do you know who I am? I’m the heir to the Zenin Corporation — you cannot treat me like this. I’ll have you—“ 
“Heir? Really?” Satoru stepped forward, blocking him from your view, “is that right? I thought the Zenin hadn’t decided announced a successor yet,” 
You furrow your brow — how does Satoru— but then you’re being put into a car with Satoru’s arm curled around your waist, as he opens the door and tucks you into the passenger seat. 
And now you won’t know. At least not now. 
Naoya scoffed, “And who are you to know anything about—“ 
“Have you heard of the Six Eyes Corp,” and Naoya’s eyes narrow, “you should have because we account for a large chunk of your business. And if that support were to disappear,” he flashes his blue eyes at him over the rim of his sunglasses, “I’d hate to tell them it’s because of this,” 
“You fucking liar, like you could tell anyone anything—“ 
Satoru chuckles, “You’re right, I am a liar,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I don’t need to tell anyone. Except my father,” 
Naoya’s sneer fades into confusion, his eyes narrowed, “Don’t fucking tell me—” 
“Then I won’t,” he steps forward, hands slipping into his pockets, “but if you ever step in her presence again,” he jerks his head towards you in his car, “then I will, and you don’t wanna know what happens if I do,” he steps in front of Naoya, back blocking your view so you don’t see him grab Naoya’s wrist, blue eyes aflame with something far deeper than anger, “because it will much worse,” he squeezes Naoya’s wrist hard making him flinch as he grits his teeth at Satoru’s smiling face, “who knows? Maybe I’ll break your wrist next time.” 
He turns around, waving off the guards, as he makes his way back to his car, sliding into the driver’s seat, smile fading to concern. 
“Are you alright, Princess?” You’re watching those people drag Naoya away, his hateful gaze trying and failing to get a last look at you as the guard takes a hand to the back of his head to force his gaze forward. 
“Where are they taking him?” 
Satoru starts the car, the quiet rumble of the engine filling the silence of his pause, “just to the proper authorities. He won’t bother you again,” 
You bit your bottom lip, eyes burning with tears — and you don’t know whether if it’s embarrassment or relief, “I’m sorry—“ 
“Don’t finish that sentence,” and your eyes slide to his, a soft smile on his lips, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about. Or to thank me for,” he cuts you off as your lips part, “is your wrist okay?” 
You glance down and see the slight redness still lingered, a final parting gift, and your other hand closes over the wrist, “it hurts a little, but I’ll ice it when I get home,” 
“We’ll go to a hospital to have it looked at,” and you’re shaking your head. 
“I don’t want to sit—“ 
“Then I’ll hire a doctor to come see you,” and you stare at him, as he rolls to a stop at a red light…is that a pout? “I just want you to be ok, Princess, please,” 
You bite back a small smile, and ignore the flutter in your heart, “Fine, you win, let’s go to a walk-in clinic,” and you spot his shoulders relax, “but it’s not really fair when you give me your infamous pout,” 
He raises an eyebrow, “‘Infamous?’” 
“You used to whip that out all the time on me and on my aunt when you were a kid — it did always work,” 
“Not always,” he replies, as he turns into the parking for the walk-in clinic, “in fact, I remember a time that it specifically did not work,” 
“And when was that?” You tilt your head. 
And he smiles, “When I asked you to be my girlfriend,” and you furrow your brow, nearly forgetting the memory, until it hits you. 
“Oh my god, the last summer I spent here,” you covered your mouth with the tips of your fingers, a chuckle on your lips, “you were very direct,” 
“I could say the same about you,” and you roll your eyes. 
“You were a kid. You were way too young for me, you know that,” you unbuckle your seatbelt, “plus now I bet you could get any person you want. That’s why I was surprised why you didn’t have a girlfriend,”
“Like I said, there’s only one woman in the world for me,” his eyes find yours, cerulean bathed in sunlight, light catching across his irises, “and only one woman I ever wanted to be with,”
Oh. 
Oh. 
No, no, that couldn’t be it — you couldn’t be her, not after all this time—
You blink, “Satoru, you don’t—“ 
“Well our age difference isn’t a problem anymore is it?” Your brain is struggling to process, lips parting with no words, “Princess,” his fingers brush yours, gently grazing your hand, as your gaze finds his again, “when are you going to take me seriously?” 
“Satoru—“ 
“Just don’t say no,” Satoru cuts you off, pulling his hand away, “don’t say no and think about it,” you open your mouth only to waver at the sight of the pout on his lips and you sigh. 
It was hard to say no, especially right now. 
“Okay I won’t say no,” you slip from the car, lips breaking into a wide grin, before sticking your head inside, “don’t smile like that. It’s not a yes,” you huff, cheeks burning and stomach erupting in butterflies. 
“Not yet,” Satoru says as you shut the door, “not yet, Princess.” 
~~~
“Huh? You did what?” 
You loved your aunt. You really did. She and her husband had taken you in when your parents were too busy working to properly take care of you during the summers. But times like this reminded you—
—-she truly was her mother’s sister. 
“Well your mother was telling me that you haven’t dated anyone since you’ve been back—“ 
“It's only been a month!” You had barely finished getting unpacked, and in fact, you still had at least five boxes still stacked up in the closet, “I’m not interested in dating, I’m trying to focus on work,” you rubbed the back of your head, “new topic, please,” as you sip on your drink. 
And after the debacle Naoya had caused, you needed to — you had put up with the whispers and stares for a few days, but since Naoya had stayed away, the rumors faded with time. Now things had died down for the most part. Except for—
“Has Satoru still been picking you up?” You nearly do a spit take, but instead you choke down the water, coughing, “eh? Are you okay, honey?” 
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” your cheeks burn at the thought of Satoru — he was always a bold kid, but you didn’t think he’d confess to being in love with you all this time. Especially now as a man — and not a kid, “yeah he’s still picking me up,” 
When he had confessed to you all those years ago as a young teenager, you had thought nothing of it. Except that it was a crush on his best friend’s older cousin — something that would pass easily with time. You hadn’t even thought of it in all these years. 
But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 
Especially when he kept showing up to pick you up from work. And now you were stirring other sorts of rumors. 
After he had taken you to the walk-in clinic, he had driven you home, making sure to check if your place was secure enough, and that you weren’t too shaken up. 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off to Suguru’s?” he had asked, crossing his arms, “I could also drag his ass here, he owes me anyway,” 
“No, no I’m really fine,” you chewed your lip, looking down, “you sure he’s not going to come back?” and he leans down, forcing you to meet his gaze, as he tilts his head. 
“Sweetheart, you think I’d even leave your place if I thought there was a chance of him coming back?” he offers you a smile, and you scoff softly, shaking your head, “trust me, he won’t be bothering you again, not while I’m around,” and he added, “and I’m not going anywhere.” 
And you didn’t know what to do with the promise in his words. Because you knew he meant that — in more than one way. 
But even so, he hadn’t brought up his confession — not once. 
“He’s so sweet isn’t he? Suguru is always so busy but Satoru’s making time to pick you instead,” your aunt gushes, and you shake your head, your aunt did have a habit of being a little hard on her son, “by the way, would you mind stopping by the house today?” 
“Why’s that?” 
And well, how did you end up here? 
You stood in front of the entrance to a very expensive looking building with a very intimidating doorman, with a large tote bag full of food that your aunt had insisted you drop off. She had given you his address, but by the time you arrived, you realized that you didn’t even have his number. And now Suguru or your aunt weren’t picking up their phones. 
Fuck. 
You were internally debating whether to talk to the doorman or to just go home and deal with this another time, when you heard someone speak behind you. 
“Looking for someone?” You jump slightly, whirling when you see Satoru, hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips, as he lifts his sunglasses to meet your gaze, “didn’t think I’d find you hanging outside my apartment building, princess,” 
“Well, you show up outside my workplace and I’ll be showing up outside your apartment building,” the words leave your mouth without much thought, as your cheeks burn at the implication, “I mean—” 
“Is that supposed to discourage me from picking you up?” he grins, “Doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me,” 
You roll your eyes, before holding up the bag, “My aunt asked me to drop off some dishes for you. She’s worried you’re eating too many sweets,” 
He takes the bag from your hand, fingers brushing, as he shakes his head, “I shouldn’t have ever told her that I had cake for dinner,” and you snort, unable to hide your giggles, “what’s so funny?” 
“I can see a lot about you has changed, but your sweet tooth is just as bad as when you were a kid,” and you see him scratch the back of his head, “is your favorite dessert still mochi?” 
“You still remember that about me?” A smile pulling at his lips, and your cheeks burn, but you refuse to waver. 
“Well, it’s hard to forget you threw up all over the rug when you ate too many,” You bite back a smile when you spot the tips of his ears burn red, as he gapes at you. 
“Did you have to bring that up?” He mutters, a small pout on his lips, and you snort, as he can’t help the curl of his lips, “now, c’mon,” his fingers brush the small of your back. 
“Satoru, where—“ but his hand is firm as he guides you towards his building. 
He flashes you a grin as he signs you in with the doorman, “Do you think I’d let you come all this way without staying for dinner?” 
~~~
“Do you want anything to drink?” Satoru’s penthouse was nothing less than immaculate — high ceilings, pristine floors, and an interior designed living space. You swore in some places it was still shiny — and you felt very out of place in your casual wear for the weekend. 
“Just a water,” you reply, as he opens his refrigerator and you raise an eyebrow at the fully stocked compartments, “wow,” you murmur, and he’s pulling a water and a fancy looking juice out of it. 
“What was that?” He raises a brow, and you stammer a moment, “c’mon princess, share with the class,” 
“Just surprised your refrigerator isn’t just stuffed with just desserts, sweets, and ice cream,” and he hands you your water, before sitting beside you, spread out on the couch, as he always was. 
“Oh it is, it’s just very well hidden,” and you snort, as he throws his arm over the back of the couch, “I may be an adult but I’m not going to be a boring old geezer like my father,” 
“I don’t think I could ever see you becoming boring, Satoru,” you chuckle, and he tilts his head. 
“Is that a rare compliment from you, princess?” And his grin only makes your cheeks warm, as you roll your eyes.
“More like an observation,” you reply, as your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out to check — who would be messaging you now? 
Oh fuck. 
“You ok there?” 
No, no you weren’t. Because your lovely aunt had given your number to a prospective match, and now he was texting you. A lot. 
“It’s nothing,” you sigh, shaking your head, putting your phone on ‘do not disturb.” You would have dinner first, and then you’d murder your aunt after dessert, “do you want me to help take out dinner?” 
“You expect me to believe you don’t hire a chef to make these sides?” The food was spread out across the table, many of the dishes your aunt had made plated and presented, but along with sides that Satoru had made, “Suguru had made it seem as if the only thing you ever made was microwave ramen,” 
“Well jokes on him, I burned it the one time I tried,” he grinned, “but I did learn to cook, I just never bothered to cook for Suguru,” 
“And why’s that?” You take a bite of the pickled radish he had prepared. 
“Because I’m not trying to impress him, am I?” And you nearly choke slightly, as you manage to swallow, “you should know I’m so much more than a pretty face, Princess,” 
You sigh, “Satoru—“
“Have you thought about what I said at all?” 
And you had. A lot more than you cared to admit. Especially after all he had done. Everything he had to Naoya to defend you. And just about him — how sweet he’s been, how protective, how kind, and how you’d like nothing more than to do the same for him—
But…
“I have, but Satoru, our ages—“ 
“We’re both adults. We both graduated. We haven’t seen each other in over a decade,” his leg brushes yours as he shifts closer, “are you telling me you don’t feel anything?” 
You didn’t know how to answer that — not when you didn’t really know yourself. And you always knew the answer — you knew you wanted to study abroad, you knew you had to leave Naoya’s company, and you knew you wanted to live here — so why was this the one time you didn’t? And why was he the one thing you were unsure of? 
You bite your bottom lip, “But, Suguru—“ and he scoffs softly. 
“Are you really thinking about Suguru right now?” he asks, “or would you rather date the guy blowing up your phone earlier?” 
Your eyebrows knit together, “How did you know—“ 
“Well I know it’s not Naoya, and I heard from Suguru that your aunt wanted to set you up,” fucking Suguru—and your lips twist into a pout, he tilts his head, not bothering to hide his smile, “if you dated me, you could get your aunt off your back,” he muses, leaning against his elbow, “she always did say I was family, and I’m not looking to be your brother,” 
Your cheeks burn at his words, “Satoru,”
“Think about it, Princess, you don’t have to give me an answer now,” but his eyes flicker to your phone, “but I know you’ll find me once you meet any one of these guys your aunt sets you up with,” 
You grimace at your phone, picking it up to see the messages from the guy your aunt had given your number to, “fuck,” you murmur, locking your phone before tossing it away, an image of you trapped at a dinner across the most boring man alive. And then you glance up at Satoru, still a smug smile on his lips, and then back to your phone. 
“What’s your plan?” 
~~~
“So, I heard you turned down the boy I gave your number to,” 
Your aunt hardly pulled punches. 
She never did when you and Suguru were growing up — she always knew what the two of you got up to, even if you were both sure she could never find out — she always did. Even the one time that the two of you had snuck out to get ramen on a late night, Suguru’s parents were in a dead sleep — but by the time you both snuck back in, she was waiting for both of you in the hallway. But this time, she wasn’t even leading with a wind-up before swinging. 
And then she adds, eyes narrowing, “He said you declined because you’re dating someone,” 
She was going for the kill. 
She turns to grab the whistling tea kettle, turning it off, before pouring the hot water into two cups. You force yourself not to bite your bottom lip, the smallest tell was dangerous, even with her back turned, “Is there anything he didn’t tell you?” She’s placing the tea cups one by one on the tray, as if laying out her pieces on a board only to corner you. 
Your aunt frowns, “His mother told me,” great, even better — he was a momma’s boy, and now you were starting to wonder just how many bullets did you dodge,  “are you seeing someone?” 
You were beginning to regret this plan — and you don’t know why you let Satoru talk you into it. 
“You want me to do what?” You stared at Satoru as if he had suggested going diving with sharks, which is not far from what he was suggesting, “tell my aunt that we’re together. No way,” 
“Aw, am I that embarrassing to date, Princess?” And you roll your eyes. 
“Yes, for me,” and he’s tilting his head, “my aunt will immediately tell my uncle and Suguru — and I don’t know which one of them would kill you first,” your uncle wasn’t one for words or conflict, but he had a soft spot for you — and a fist for anyone that tried to come date you without his approval. 
“Eh? Doesn’t Uncle like me?” And you snort, the one sided conversations that Satoru had with your uncle that usually ended with your uncle excusing himself to get away from that “annoying moron.” 
“He doesn’t hate you but,” you choose your words carefully, “he doesn’t prefer you,” 
Satoru scoffs, crossing his arms, “Well Auntie loves me, and I had a plan for this,” and she did, she had quite the soft spot for Satoru, ever since he was a kid. You couldn’t exactly blame her — he looked like an angel, even if the words that left his mouth made it seem like the contrary, his fingers brushing against a strand of your hair, “and soon I’ll make you love me too,” 
Fucking cocky bastard, you thought to yourself, cheeks burning at the thought of the smirk on his lips, but you’re jarred back to reality as you hear the clattering of cups and spoons.  
“I am,” you reply, and your aunt’s head whips around, the clinking of the glasses cutting through the pause, “it’s new,” you add, as she sets down the tea cups, placing the tea dispensers in each one, “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything,” 
“Why wouldn’t you? This is wonderful,” she blinked, and her brow wrinkles, “unless it’s that Naoya—“ you flinch at the thought of him. 
“No, I’m done with him,” you wave her off quickly, wrinkling your nose at the thought of that bastard, grabbing the tea cup, the scent of green tea wafting from the steam that warmed your face, as you blew air to cool it off, “it’s someone I reconnected with here,” 
Your aunt raises an eyebrow, “So soon? Is it someone from work?” Again, is the word she implies with the sentence, a sharp tone that nicked your armor. 
“No, it isn’t,” and she’s sipping her tea, and you take a sip only to burn your tongue, “but he is younger,” 
“That’s not a problem if he’s not too much younger — how old is he?” and this was exactly why you hadn’t wanted to tell your aunt, it was more of an interrogation than a conversation. 
“He’s about Suguru’s age,” and she’s tilting her head, “Suguru introduced us,” and that wasn’t a lie — it was true — both in the past and now. 
“Really? And Sugu is okay with you dating his friend?” Your aunt may be gossip and a meddler, but she wasn’t a fool, your hesitation is your end, “and I assume you’re telling me all this to get me off your case and to ask not to tell Suguru,” she sighs. 
“Auntie—“ 
“You know I don’t like lying for either of you—“ 
“But—“ 
“No, I can’t—“ 
“How about lying for me?” Satoru stands in the doorway, head tilted, a smile on his lips. And your aunt blinks before she slowly puts the puzzle pieces together, a mix of emotions crossing her expression — confusion, disbelief, and maybe a hint of joy, before she settled on a neutral 
“Satoru—“ 
He frowns, “Auntie, you know Suguru will kill me for dating his cousin, please,” and then he does what he does best — pouting. 
And your aunt breaks — with a one hit-KO. 
“You must have been blessed by some needlessly annoying god,” you murmur as he walks you back to your place, sun gleaming as it gave off its last rays of light before setting for the night,  “because I don’t know how you still get her to fall for that,” 
“I was born blessed,” and you snort, as you catch sight of his smile out of the corner of your eye, “and speaking of which, when’s our first date?” 
“Straight to the point, huh?” You stop walking, hands in your pockets, “Satoru—“ 
“Don’t tell me you’re about to launch into another speech about how you can’t date me,” he gives an exaggerated sigh, “I could go back to your aunt and tell her how you broke my heart and let her pull out list of aunties who have sons who are excited to meet you—“ 
“Alright, fine, a date, but one thing first,” you step close to him, making his breath catch, pretty blues finding your gaze, the very same he would love to get lost in, before they flicker down to your lips. And he swears you can probably hear his heart beating out of his chest, thumping at the bony bars of his ribcage, and he hates it, hates how you have him twisted around your finger without trying, “Princess—“ 
You reach for him, fingers nearly about to brush his cheek, his eyes fluttering, before you flick his forehead, “ow!” 
“I was just going to ask when our first date is going to be, but if you rather I go on a bunch of blind dates—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing his forehead all the same, “then do you have any ideas?” 
He grins, “Plenty, but there’s one in particular.” 
~~~~
“An amusement park?” 
He sat next to you, driving, hand on the console and you couldn’t help but brush your arm against his each time you moved — and you felt as if he did it on purpose. 
He raises an eyebrow, stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye, “Uh-huh, got a problem, Princess?” 
“No I’m just surprised, we went to plenty of these as kids,” you glanced at him, his eyes concentrated on the road, fingers curling a little tighter around the steering wheel. 
You had raised an eyebrow at his choice, but now that you were here…it wasn’t a bad pick. 
You hadn’t been to one in years — not since your summers with Suguru. The screams in the distance told you there was a rollercoaster not far off, the syrupy sweetness of sugar somehow emanated from every inch of air, and the park was filled to the brim with families and couples. 
You glance at Satoru, a plain t-shirt and shorts, and somehow he still looked as if he stepped off a page of a men’s style magazine. He looked around, his eyes landing on a vendor selling cotton candy, and you hid your chuckle. 
“C’mon,” you took his hand, leading him over without a second thought, and you’re grabbing a giant cotton candy for him, made into a flower by the vendor. Satoru’s practically vibrating with excitement, slinking his hand around to sneak the vendor money before you even had a chance, “I wanted to pay—“ 
“You think I’d make my date pay?” He takes a bite out of his cotton candy, sugar sticking to his lips even as he nearly inhales a petal, “even the arranged set ups should do that much,” but it’s hard to take him seriously with blue sugar all over his mouth, “what?” 
You snort, grabbing a wet nap from your purse,“Well, you’d be surprised,” and you wipe his face, fingers cupping his chin, “some guys are a little immature,” and he stares back, and you swear you see a flush settle over his cheeks, before he turns away to wipe his lips. 
“Not me,” he mumbles, tips of his ears burning red, and you bite your bottom lip, cute. 
“Should we find a ride to go on?” he immediately grins at that, offering his arm this time, and you take it, a smile tugging at your lips. 
Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. 
~~~
Oh you were wrong. 
So wrong. 
“I changed my mind, I don’t want to get on,” and before you can leave a hand catches you by the wrist gently, blue eyes judging over his rimless sunglasses, “Satoru—“ 
“It’s just a rollercoaster,” just a rollercoaster? No, it was literally your death. You stared up at the contraption above you, the echoing screams growing louder as the line crept forward — akin to a rickety boat that Charon would wade you across into hell itself. 
“No, I can’t—“ you shake your head. 
“C’mon it won’t be that bad—“ 
“So you admit it’s going to be bad,” and he’s biting back a smile, “what?” 
“I just never really saw you being scared of anything, Princess,” he sighed loudly, “I guess I’ll have to ride it all alone,” but that only serves to make many women (and men) stare at him as if to offer him their company. 
“You have options,” and he shakes his head, his hand outstretched as the two of you enter the final stretch of the line. 
“Like I said, sweetheart, there’s only ever been one option for me,” and your fingers graze his with several second thoughts, but when his fingers laced with yours, you knew there was no turning back. 
“I didn’t know you could scream that loud,” 
You grinned at a shaken up Satoru, throat probably raw and aching as he frowns, face turned away, “I’m not used to the speed, unlike you, from how I heard you drive,” and you bite back a laugh, as he fails to hide his flush from you, his ears burning red. 
Your chuckle is a badly disguised cough, “Are you pretending to be this way to make me feel better?” You tease, and he’s crossing his arms. 
“No way I’d let myself look so lame in front of you, I’m no better than Ijichi,” and you raise an eyebrow. Ijichi was a boy in Suguru and Satoru’s class when they were kids — one that Satoru loved to complain about being slow. 
“You still think about him?”
“He’s my assistant,” and you snort at the thought of Satoru still hassling that poor guy. 
“I hope you pay him well,” he’s officially pouting again.
“I didn’t know it would be that intense!” you tilt your head, as the two of you find a corner of the park that’s not so crowded and riddled with children running amok, and you watch him down a sugary soda drink he had bought from one of the food stalls. 
“You act as if you’ve never been to an amusement park,” he’s quiet for a second too long, and your eyebrows knit together, “but Suguru—” 
“You guys would go every summer, but it was when I had my prep classes on the weekends,” he runs his fingers through his white locks, “I would have skipped when I was older, but by the time I had stopped caring what my father thought of me, you had already gone to college and Suguru’s family stopped going,” 
You frown — you knew Satoru didn’t have the best upbringing — yes he had every opportunity at his fingertips, all the money in the world that you couldn’t even fathom, but you could count the number of times he’s mentioned his parents on one hand. 
“I was always so jealous when you guys would go,” he sighed, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “it seems silly now—” 
“No, it’s not,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “you should have been allowed to be a kid,” 
He chuckles, a noise that sticks in your chest, “Well, more than anything, I wanted to go with you,” his cerulean eyes find yours, a soft smile on his lips, “thank you for indulging me, princess,” 
“Well, you’re the one doing me a favor, right?” you tease, getting to your feet, “c’mon we have plenty of other things to do — I saw a booth with candy apples not too far over there—” you point, and his fingers are already finding yours as he nearly drags you along, a laugh caught in your throat as you can’t help but smile at his excitement. 
It’s infectious, you thought as the two of you got in line, Satoru nearly vibrating with need for his sugar fix, and you shook your head, biting back a laugh, just like him. 
~~~
“You don’t have to walk me home,” the sun had long sunk by the time you both had left, staying to catch a glimpse of the fireworks before heading back, “it’s not that far from here,” 
The two of you had opted to take public transport to the amusement park, knowing there would be next to nowhere to park or rather only the middle of nowhere to park. The cicadas were already beginning their symphony, filling the relative silence of the neighborhood now, except for the chatter heard from inside houses or outside in gardens. 
“Who would carry your loot home?” and he tilts the giant plushie to show his unimpressed face, “you barely wanted to carry this at the park, even after you begged me to win it, and I did, in one shot,” 
And he did, he had won you a giant polar bear plushie nearly as tall as you were in his hands, along with several bags of sweets he had bought on the way out, just to snack on tonight (and you seriously wondered if he ate anything that was not coated in mochi, chocolate, or sugar). 
“I don’t remember begging you — I asked you,” you cross your arms, and you know he’s smiling behind the bear, using the plushie to hide his goddamn smirk, “i did! I just asked if we could try to win it—” 
“And I remember the phrases ‘please’ and ‘i need it’ being involved in the conversation,” you felt your cheeks burn, “you still like these things, huh?” 
“What do you mean?” and he moves the polar bear under one arm, the bags in the other so you could actually see his face. 
“You always loved plushies, you had that one from your parents that you kept in your room with you all the time—” 
“Panda, I was very original with that name,” you shake your head, before your gaze turns to him, his sunglasses gleaming on his head in the low light of the streetlamps, “I can’t believe you remembered that,” 
“There’s barely a thing I’d forget when it comes to you,” and you bite your lip, heart squeezing at his words, “you look like you wanna say something, princess?” 
You reached the outside of your apartment building just as night fell, humidity still clinging to the thick summer air. The light of the lobby spilling out into the sidewalk through the glass doors, just as the streets grew quieter. 
And you do — you’re not sure if you should ask it — a question posed on a precipice of uncertainty that you didn’t know if you wanted to step off of. But you know you had to, at one point or another. 
You could just go inside, brush off his question, and leave the day at that. But a nagging question had wriggled it’s way to the forefront of your mind, and you knew it wouldn’t leave your mind until it left your tongue. 
You chew on your lip, “You say these things so easily when it comes to me, but how are you so sure?” 
And he shrugs, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second, “I just know,” 
“But how?” He’s shaking his head, stepping forward, until he’s a breath away, your eyes flickering from his gaze to his lips for a split second, your own air caught in your traitorous throat. 
“Instead of wondering why I feel why I do, I think you should wonder why you’re so unsure,” and his fingers graze your cheek, tilting your chin upwards, his touch sending heat to the far reaches of your body, and he’s leaning forward. Your eyes nearly flutter shut, as his words nearly warm your lips, but no, instead they brush against your ear, “because if I was still just that kid to you that I was all those years ago, then why aren’t you pulling away?” 
Your eyes blink open, as he pulls away, grin on his lips, as he hands you your polar bear plushie, “Satoru—“ and you don’t even know what you want to say — you want to argue, you want to say something, anything, but nothing comes out but his name. 
“You shouldn’t let a guy get that close, Princess, especially not twice,” he sighs, lips still curled, “because if you let me that close again, I won’t be leaving without a kiss,” 
And you could only stare after him as he left — fingers touching your ear he had whispered against, lips pursing, as you huff, cheeks burning as you step inside your building, burying your face in white fluff of the polar bear that looked a little too much like someone’s hair. 
“Idiot.” 
~~~~
You’re avoiding me. 
Satoru wasn’t wrong. You were — but not exactly on purpose. Or at least you didn’t think so. It had been the third time you had turned him down in the last week. Although, today’s wasn’t intentionally so. You stewed in a corner of the bar, eyes glancing at your phone — what was really an appropriate time to leave a work-sanctioned event without looking completely anti-social? 
It was never really fun coming to these events alone — but you knew if Satoru was here, you’d actually have a good time. You were almost surprised he hadn’t shown up at your place or your work to see you — all he had done is text you. And why did that almost disappoint you?
You checked the time again, met with the notification of Satoru’s message again before you swiped it away out of sight. But he wasn’t out of mind. He hadn’t been for days. You rubbed at your temples — you hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since your day at the amusement park, thoughts spinning in circles and it was all his fault. You had done everything to get him out of your head — minimize contact, not see him, even drag yourself to an event like this — but still, you stared at your phone screen again, the ghost of his words still warming your ear. 
You couldn’t stop thinking about him. 
Fuck. What were you doing? You took a long swig of your drink, hoping the alcohol could erase some of that night out of your mind. The last thing you needed to be thinking about was Satoru Gojo. 
“So who’s the guy who has been picking you up after work?” 
You nearly choked on your drink. Really? You downed your drink, hoping you can ignore the question if you take long enough downing the searing concoction that the bartender had handed you, maybe they would let you off the hook. But as you finish the drink, you only find your coworkers staring back at you still. The hush that fell over this group of women was far too reverent for a conversation about a man. 
“He’s my little cousin’s best friend,” you reply, ordering another drink — you were going to need it, and the women exchange glances, fake smiles plastered on their lips. 
“He’s not your boyfriend?” and a strange twinge settles in your chest at the question, poking and prodding your tongue to say no, no he wasn’t, but you almost didn’t want to. 
“No, he isn’t,” and the women grin amongst each other, “if you would excuse me—” 
“Wait, wait, we just started talking, come on now,” you sigh internally, as they order another round of drinks as they corral you to their table, maybe after this you could finally leave. 
~~~
“What’s got you so down?” Suguru slides into a seat across from Satoru — Satoru who couldn’t stop checking his phone to see if you had replied. 
“What do you mean?” he sighs, he shouldn’t have sent that text earlier. He shouldn’t push so much, he’s already pushed enough with his comment. God, why the fuck did he say that? What if you thought he was a creep—what if you thought he was disgusting? What if— 
“You look pathetic,” Suguru sips his coffee in his hand, scrolling through his phone, “who is it?” 
Satoru sits up, locking his phone, tucking it away as if it would incriminate him — flashing your name across the screen like it was plastered over his mind, “what do you mean?” 
“I’ve never seen you like this, you keep checking your phone — you barely can keep track of it most of the time,” he shrugs his shoulders, “I figured you must have grew a dick and started liking someone,” 
“Look who’s talking — when’s the last time you dated someone again?” And Satoru catches the crumpled up paper Suguru tosses, “don’t get on your high horse if you don’t want the same thing back,” 
“At least I’m not waiting like a lovesick puppy over my phone,” Suguru mutters, taking another sip of his drink, and that’s when a phone ringing cuts through the silence — that was your ringtone, the very one he set to know when you’d call — just so he wouldn’t miss it, “looks like your waiting by the door paid off,” 
“Fuck off,” Satoru mumbled, walking off with his phone as he picked up, “hello?” 
“Suguru!” Satoru’s brow furrowed at the sound of your cousin’s name leaving your lips, “can you pick me up plz—“ your words were slurred, sounds of chatter cutting through the background. 
“Princ—“ you hiccuped, a small groan leaving your lips. 
“You can’t tell Satoru, he’ll come here and my coworkers won’t stop asking me about him,” you sigh again, mumbling, “why does he have to be so—ugh, it’s not fair for someone to be that pretty—“ 
Pretty? 
His cheeks burned, as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying and failing to bite back a stupid smile on his lips — it’s not fair for you to be this cute. He would have preferred ‘handsome’ or ‘perfect’ or ‘your boyfriend’ — but he could settle for pretty. 
“Anyway!” You cut his thoughts off, “could you come get me?” And Satoru bit his lip, glancing at Suguru — he could tell Suguru to get you, he could, but the odds of you letting something slip to Suguru—- “remember you can’t tell Satoru—“ 
—was really high. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there, and I won’t tell him,” he adds, because you already had. 
~~~
“How did you find out where I work?” Satoru didn’t know after so many years that there were still new things to learn about you still — and one thing he had learned tonight was that —- you pouted at him, stumbling slightly as he came to a stop in front of your building — you were really whiny when drunk. 
“I picked you up there, remember?” he lightly flicked your forehead that only made you huff, “now do you have your keys?” 
“Do you know how annoying you are?” And he has to bite back a laugh at your scrunched up face. 
“I do, sweetheart, but I’d love to hear you tell me,” you scoff, crossing your arms only to immediately uncross to dig through your purse for your keys, tossing out several things that Satoru catches or picks up. 
“You come to my work and pick me up, and act all swoon worthy, and perfect, and you look like that—“ 
“Like what?” he can’t hide his smile this time, and your brow furrows as you pull out your keys, lips opening and closing, until you purse them. 
“Like that,” you grumble as you teeter on your feet again, before he supports you, and he swore he heard you mumble, “so disgustingly handsome,” 
And he’s glad your eyes are half closed and focused ahead, otherwise he knew you’d smack him for the grin on his face. 
“Oi, don’t—“ and you don’t listen, nearly falling over as you unlock your door, whole body weight leaned against it, but his arm slips around you, holding you up from face planting into your floor, “you’re gonna break your neck, Princess,” 
“You wouldn’t let that happen,” You break from his grip and lean up close, your breath warming his lips, your gaze half lidded, “not when you love me,” and his heart thuds against his ribs, rattling his lungs and bones alike, “that’s what you said, right?” 
You weren’t making this easy, not with your fingers now sliding up his chest, toying with the top button of his shirt, “I did—“ 
“So are you going to prove it?” And the floor feels as if it slips out from underneath him, and all he feels is you, only you — the brush of your fingers against his chest, the faint scent of lavender from your perfume that your aunt had gifted you, and the caress of your gaze against his lips, the same eyes he could easily lose himself in — if he wasn’t careful. 
But he had to be careful — because it was you. 
“But—“
“But what?” it would be so easy to kiss you, when you were only half a breath away, lips parted and gaze asking him to do so, to just lean in—but he can’t.
Not like this. 
His thumb runs down your lips, your eyes fluttering shut, fingers sliding to cup your jaw, and he leans in — feeling your breath catch—
But he only flicks your forehead, drawing a soft yelp from you. 
“I’d like you to remember our first kiss,” and he’s corralling you into bed after that, your body keeling over into the soft mattress, as he’s able to wriggle you under the comforter. Your body relaxes into the plush bed, eyes shut, as your muscles loosen and unwind, while Satoru stands over you, the exact opposite — muscles taut and mind whirring. 
Fuck.
“You never make it easy, do you, Princess?” he mutters under his breath, swallowing thickly as he scrubs a hand down his face, “good night,” his fingers ghost over the swell of your cheek, before turning to leave—
And your fingers caught him around the wrist, eyes half open as you stared up at him, a pout on your lips but now for an entirely different, but somehow the same reason—
“Stay,” one word nearly had him crumble right there — and how pathetic was that? Maybe Suguru was right — he was no better than a puppy at your beck and call — waiting by the door for his master to return. And he almost didn’t mind — if you always came home to him.  
“Princess, you have to go to sleep—“ he could easily break from your grip, fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist, but your grasp may have been very well made of iron with how you had pinned him into place — an entomologist pinning their butterfly in their display. 
“Don’t wanna sleep alone,” a slight whine in your voice makes him waver again, but he had a problem with sleeping beside you—
He shifted in place, adjusting himself, a somewhat big problem thst wouldn’t go away — no matter how many times he thought about Gakuganji in his underwear — especially when you were looking at him like that, half dressed in bed with a pout on your lips and want in your gaze—want that he never thought would be for him. 
“Please?” And that’s all it takes, his thumb rubbing against your fingers — because he could never say no to you. 
~~~~
“Are you okay?” 
Satoru was never left alone — not since he had managed to wander off alone when he was five. It took several hours and a dozen security guards to find him at a bakery, having his third piece of cake. And when he was brought home, he was told just how many ways that could have went wrong — what could have happened to him, and most of all — how badly it could have made his parents look. 
After that, he couldn’t remember a time that his hand wasn’t clutched by a caretaker or escort — from school to home to anywhere else he wished to go. But he never wished to go anywhere, not with a stranger at his side. 
It was only when he met Suguru that he was allowed to go out without someone hovering over his shoulder. But without warning — warning that if any incident would mean he would be stuck back in his daily life. But that meant when he got distracted in the pastry section of the supermarket — looking for the exclusive mochi he desperately wanted — he found himself alone, with you and Suguru nowhere in sight. 
“Suguru?” Satoru called, head whipping around, chest thudding as the white noise of the market grew louder. His gaze falls, ears ringing with all that could go wrong, back to the life with no one at his side, only strangers— 
“Toru?” Satoru’s gaze snaps up, your hands on your hips, your head tilted, “you okay?” And he’s quickly wiping away his tears, sniffling softly, your hand finding the top of his head, “i got you something,” and you hold out a mochi in front of him, and he blinks. 
“You found it?” He’s blinking and your lips curve into a pretty smile. 
“Anything for you, Satoru,” your fingers run through his hair, “Satoru? Satoru—“ 
His eyes flutter open, finding you leaning over him, your tousled hair in messy tangles, “finally awake?” And a soft chuckle on your lips as you speak, rubbing your eye, flinching as you rub your temples, “what exactly happened last night?” 
“You mean besides you calling me pretty?” And your jaw drops, biting your lip, “and begging me to stay? Didn’t know you liked my company that much, Princess,” 
You glare at him, “well with charm like that—“ you mutter, when it occurs to you, “why did you sleep on the floor? And with that?” You point to the polar bear plushie he used as a pillow last night. 
Not his most preferred bedfellow. 
Always full of surprises, his cheeks burn, and he only can hope it doesn’t show on his face, hidden behind a cheeky smile, “Didn’t know you were so eager to share a bed with me, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “I have to warn you, I have a tendency to cuddle—“ and you smack him with a pillow, he sighs, “someone wasn’t too keen on sharing her pillows with me, so this was the best I could do,”
You snort, as you take the offending plushie from him, “Did you do something to him?”
He tilts his head, “Eh?” And you hold up the polar bear plush, “what could I do to him?”  
“Someone did threaten to toss him out into the ocean so he could join his family,” 
“I can do a lot of things, but I can’t solve global warming, Princess,” and you bite back a laugh, “I was on my best behavior with him last night, even though he’s a shitty pillow,” and you didn’t have to know how he had slapped him a couple times. 
But even so, you bite your lip, looking down as you toy with your comforter, “why did you come?” 
He blinks, “what do you mean?” 
“You could have sent Suguru, but you came, and you stayed, on the floor,” and he curls his lips. 
“Well what kind of fake boyfriend would I be?” And you roll your eyes, still waiting for an answer, and his voice grows soft, “you know why, Princess,” 
“I do, but I don’t,” you murmur, fidgeting with your blanket as you chewed on your bottom lip, “my coworkers couldn’t stop talking about you last night, they kept saying how handsome you are, how wonderful, how perfect—“ 
“Should I be less handsome or perfect? Because don’t know if that’s possible—“ and it earns him another whack with the pillow, but he only catches it, “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” 
“It’s not, but I don’t know why after all these years, you still want me,” you sigh, words pushing past your lips,  “you could have anyone, Satoru,” 
“If I just wanted anyone, I wouldn’t have fell in love with you,” and you bury your face in your pillow, gaze peeking down at him. 
“You say that with such ease, how do you know what love even is? I don’t know if I know what it is,” you add, mumbling under your breath, and his eyes can’t help but follow the way your fingers run through your hair. 
“I don’t think I need to know when I feel it,” Satoru sat up, dangerously close to you, within reach yet so far out of it, “do you need to know to see the sky is blue? Do you need to know to feel pain when you burn yourself?” 
“Didn’t know you were taking philosophy classes with Suguru,” and he snorts, shaking his head, “Satoru—“ 
“Like I said before, Princess, just give me some time,” his fingers reach for you, and your breath catches, before he slowly smoothed your hair out, “and I’ll win you over,” 
Your eyes flicker to his, and god, he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss you, but he couldn’t. He had to be patient. He couldn’t push you — he wanted you to want him just as much. He would make you fall into his arms willingly, and you’d kiss him — not the other way around. 
“Want some breakfast?” your lips curl into a soft smile, the very same smile that he had fallen for time and time again. 
“You offering to cook me breakfast?” 
“Just wondering what would shut you up the quickest,” and he has half a mind to reply with ‘your lips,’ but he decides against it, “pancakes?” 
~~~
“I can feel you staring,” 
Even with your back turned to the stove, bowl in hand as you whipped the batter with the whisk, hoping your laser focus on the pancakes would help you distract yourself. But it did little when you could feel his gaze sticking in your back, spotlights on every little movement — something that wouldn’t have bothered you before — but after last night—
This was why you never drank. 
You covered your face with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, as you placed the bowl down, what had your life become? 
“C’mon you can’t just let a guy like that go,” one of the women from work nudged you — you couldn’t remember if her name was Kanae or Kanao — handing you a refill of the drink you had gotten, “he certainly seems into you from the way he looks at you,” 
“If he isn’t, I’d take him off your hands,” Saki slurred, nearly spilling her drink, “he seems to like you. Is there really nothing between you two?” 
“Not really,” you sipped your drink, if confessing to you after over a decade was nothing, “he’s just a friend,” and he was — a friend who was your fake boyfriend. 
“You know with how you started, I thought your love life would be a lot more interesting,” Kanae sighed far too loudly, as she took another long swig of her cocktail. 
“Well we’ve talked a lot about what you guys are but we haven’t asked how you feel,” Saki grinned, sloppily drunk yet somehow masterful with her questions, “how do you feel about him?” 
And how did you? If someone asked you a few weeks ago, you would said he was just your little cousin’s best friend, a childhood friend — and you wouldn’t have thought twice. But now, he has given you so much to think about. Would you be this hesitant if you two haven’t met as kids? If he wasn’t Suguru’s best friend? If he didn’t seem so far out of your league? 
Maybe. But you were never good at going for things you wanted — or accepting things as they were. Even with Naoya, you knew you should have broken up with him — you knew he was toxic, and yet you stayed — because it was easier. 
And maybe it was easier to push Satoru away than to face how you felt.
Fuck, you were too drunk for this — you needed to get out of here, “excuse me,” you manage to slip away into the bathroom, washing your face, leaning over the sink. 
You held your forehead, steadying yourself against the cold porcelain, fingers digging into the rim of the sink — eyes burning as your head throbs, a wave of nausea pulsing through your stomach. Fuck, there was no way that you could get home alone. 
You pulled out your phone and scrolled — who the fuck would you call? The only people you knew were your family and…
Nope. No. Not an option. 
You found Suguru’s number and tried to text, only to find your eyes blurring, and you knew if you sent a message he would be holding over any typos or fuck ups over your head forever. 
You found his name, your head spinning as you clicked and called. 
He didn’t pick up.
“Fucker,” you mumble, trying to hit his name again, your head spinning, and finally someone picked up—
And then you woke up in bed. A soft groan fell from your lips, knives prodding at every inch of your brain, memory blended and choppy as you drew into consciousness. You were home, your eyes fluttering open to sunlight illuminating your bedroom, a dull stiffness in your muscles that makes you stretch, turning on your side only to be met with a sight. 
Satoru Gojo. Asleep on your floor, cuddling the plush polar bear he won for you. You stared, blinking, wondering if blinking away the sleep would somehow blink away Satoru too (it did not unfortunately). So you did the only other thing you could think of — take a picture. 
As you glanced from the image to him, bits and pieces came back — from your drunken ramblings on the phone to the ones in person, your cheeks burning as you buried your face in your comforter before staring down at him. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? You were really testing those limits. 
But even so, as you watched him sleep on top of the plushie, the only thing you could wonder was why had he stayed? He could have left after you fell asleep, or even before that, there wasn’t much you could have done to stop him. But he stayed, even on the floor, rather than anywhere else. 
“So?” you didn’t need to turn from the stove to know he was grinning, “can’t I enjoy the show, Princess?” 
“If you’re enjoying it so much, how about you become part of it and help?” you offer him a spatula, as he makes his way over, leaning over you, his body brushing against yours, but you ignore it all the same, eyes focused on the task instead on the warmth blooming from his touch, “I’ll spoon and you flip,” 
The two of you work in silence, as you spoon batter onto the griddle and he flips the pancakes — and it’s only when you’re both just about done that you glance over, and his lips are curled, “What are you smiling about?” and he shakes his head, as he flips the last of the pancakes onto the stack, “Satoru—“ 
“I just never really have made breakfast like this before, or had someone make it for me,” he scratches the back of his head, “my parents always had chefs or maids or someone make me all my meals, and even when I moved out, I always cooked alone or bought my meals out,” he shrugs, as he turned the stove off, “it reminds me when you’d make me and Suguru instant ramen after we came in from playing outside,” 
You snort, “You remember that?” You would get stuck making ramen for the two of them, tossing some seasoning and sauces into the mixture along with an egg, “I always put too much black pepper. I thought you hated it,” 
“But I always finished,” he added, and he did, even if his cheeks were burning red and eyes watering by the end of the bowl. Your lips curl at the memory of him at the age of twelve downing an entire glass of water and spilling it all over the front of himself. 
“Well I can make a lot more than instant noodles now,” you have Satoru set the table while you start to clean up, turning on the sink. You hear the clink of plates and utensils behind you, as he sets them down on the table, but you can feel his gaze fall over you even as your back is turned. 
“I’m going to need some proof — there were a few times you almost burned those noodles,” and you pout, turning with your hands on your hips. 
“Oh you want me to prove it now?” You turn, running your finger discreetly up the side of the used mixing bowl, finger full of batter as you walk up to him, hands behind your back. 
“And how’re you gonna do that, Princess?” the corner of his lip quirks upwards, as you step close up to him, and god, he’s fucking tall — and it kind of pissed you off — all these boys shoot up like fucking weeds, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t knock him down a bit. 
“Close your eyes, and find out,” he raises an eyebrow, suspicious, but still he obeys — good boy, the praise runs through your head to the tip of your tongue, but you bite it and the words back alike. And you’re so close, you can see his snow white eyelashes fan out against his cheeks, and he’s so unfairly pretty, 
For now. 
You’re so close, you nearly feel his body warmth radiate your skin — and you swear you hear his breath hitch — and it would be so easy to lean forward— “Princess — what—” 
And then he gasps when you smear pancake batter down his cheek, a snort leaving your lips as he gapes at you, mouth ajar. He blinks, his hand reaching for his cheek, before he stops when his eyes flit to your batter caked finger, “You—” 
You’re giggling, trying to stop yourself from doubling over at his expression, “What? I just wanted to give you a taste of my cooking before you tried it,” and he frowns at you for a moment, before his lips curl deviously, tilting his head. 
“Is that right?” and his fingers run through the smeared batter, caking his finger tips before he’s stepping towards you, “then it’s fair, if I make you taste it too—“ and you’re trying to back up, giggles leaving your lips,  but he catches you by the wrist. 
“Satoru—“ you whine as you’re trying to squirm away, “let go!” but he only pulls you close, your body nearly bumping against his — and it was your turn for your breath to catch, cerulean irises stealing the air from your lungs as you drowned in them, “hey—“ 
“Just how much are you gonna tempt me, Princess?” and you should step away, but his fingers around your wrist send warmth blooming down your arm, straight to your chest, and you can’t bring yourself to step away. 
“And how am I doing that?” His fingers tug you closer, thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist, before he leans close. 
“You know exactly how,” and your glance flickers from his gaze to his lips, and back again, resisting the urge to shut your eyes — but you don’t have to, when he smears the batter all over your cheek. 
“Toru!” You stare at him, and he’s laughing, as you grab at him, only for him to slip away, “I’m gonna kill you—“ and you move towards the sink, batter covered bowl still inside, “oh just you wait—“ 
But your beeline is cut short by his grip, arm darting around your middle, as he pulls you back. You gasp, struggling in his arms in vain — fuck his stupidly toned arms,  “you shouldn’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” his words are said against your ear, but they rush down your body in almost a shudder. 
His lips are an inch or two from yours, you would barely need to lean to reach them — the words of your coworkers ring in your ears 
“Who said I wasn’t?” His eyes find yours, his fingers tilting your chin ever so slightly, when your phone rings. 
You jerk slightly at the sound, your eyes flickering to the name across the screen and see Suguru’s name flashing on the screen. 
“It’s Suguru,” and Satoru lets go of you, as you make your way to the phone, and you swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?” you don’t pick up the phone but a few texts come through anyway. 
“Nothing,” he scratched the back of his head, “what did he say?” 
“He’s asking if I wanna come over for dinner tonight, said you’re gonna be there too?” And you raise an eyebrow, as Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and glances at it. 
“Apparently I am,” you turn on the faucet, cleaning your face off, offering Satoru a damp tissue. “Guess this won’t be the last meal we’re sharing today,” 
“Guess not,” his fingers brush yours when taking the tissue, trying to clean the batter off his cheek but only spreads the mess. You snort, as you take the napkin from him holding his face by the chin, “so how’re we gonna play it?” 
“Play what?” You toss the napkin away, both of you taking a seat at the table. 
“Did you forget?” He stabs a pancake and places it in his plate, “we told your aunt we’re dating — and that we’re hiding it from Suguru, and you just agreed to dinner with both of them,” 
Fuck. 
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✧ a/n: hi it's been quite a while T_T. sorry work has been so busy. i haven't had a moment to post, and now i had to split this up because it just got too long lmao. part two will come later, i'm going to be prioritizing my kinktober fics. thank you to @coffee-and-geto for betaing :)
✧ taglist: @satorusmochis , @celestialgojo , @sugurubabe , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @strawberryfanatic01 , @cira273 , @sobbangchan , @hiraethwrote , @peppertoastuniverse , @dreamtardisspace , @redmangotango , @h4ru-h4ruu , @anpacax0 , @theshylittleelfgirl , @hyori2 , @elliesndg , @maddietries , @roses-can-be-deadly-too, @vernasce-blogs , @mrsoikawa17 , @spider-fan72 , @haoxiaoxi , @horchatacow , @lovemoreworrylessv, @maybe-a-bi-witch , @missroki , @rubyarerosies ,, @ranatherealestsigma , @svt-backup , @catsgomurp , @sakurastorm , @forest-fruits-jam , @lemonpoppy-seed , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @notgoodforlife , @johannakhalafalla , @fushitoru , @kentosbutterfly , @augustwinesworld
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chuluoyi · 1 year ago
Text
LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
general masterlist
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
9K notes · View notes
punkshort · 2 months ago
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Just Friends
Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.
Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex
WC: 6.4K
dividers by @saradika-graphics
"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.
"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.
"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.
Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.
"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.
"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."
Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.
"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.
"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.
"I have barstools, you know."
"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.
"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.
"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"
You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.
"Fine."
Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."
You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."
"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.
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"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.
"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."
"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"
"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.
"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.
"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.
"What story?"
"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"
"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"
"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.
Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."
You made a face and shook your head.
"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"
"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"
You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.
"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."
"Exactly."
"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.
"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"
"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"
Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."
One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...
"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."
"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."
"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.
Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.
All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.
"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.
It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.
"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.
"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"
You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"
"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."
You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"
"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."
You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.
"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.
"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.
"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.
"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.
"What's got you so grumpy?"
"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."
"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.
"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.
"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."
"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."
Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."
When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.
"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.
"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.
The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.
"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.
"Excuse me... have we met?"
You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.
"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.
"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"
"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?
"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"
"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."
"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"
"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."
"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.
"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.
"Hmm, that sounds-"
"Murphy."
You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.
"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."
"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.
"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.
"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?
"Well-"
"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."
"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.
"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.
"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.
Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."
"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"
"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.
"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"
"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.
You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.
Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.
With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.
There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.
There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.
Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?
With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.
He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"
"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."
"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.
"What's going on? Drink too much?"
"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."
"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."
"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.
Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.
"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."
"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.
"Then what is it?"
You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."
He just scoffed and took your hand in his.
"You're prettier."
You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."
"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.
"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.
"Wanna dance?"
You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."
You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.
With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.
"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.
You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.
"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"
The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.
"I think you know why."
When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.
And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.
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It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.
Or so you thought.
It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.
One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.
Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.
"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.
"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.
It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.
"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.
"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.
He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"
You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.
"Yes," you whispered back.
His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.
Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.
"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.
Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.
"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.
His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."
His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.
"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.
"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."
"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"
Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.
"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"
"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"
"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.
Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.
"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.
"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.
"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"
Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.
"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.
"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.
"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"
"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.
"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."
Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.
"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.
"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"
"No, I mean-"
His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."
You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."
A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.
Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.
"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.
"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.
"You're a screamer, hermosa."
"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.
"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."
"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.
"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."
He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.
"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.
"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.
You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."
His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.
"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.
"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."
Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.
"So, now what?" he asked.
"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."
He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.
"I think we're gonna need a late check out."
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elvesofnoldor · 1 year ago
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#mae overshares#honestly i don't ever post anything on here anymore but ever since i watched AMC's IWTV i have been changed^tm#decades after decades of not giving one shit about vampire media and fiction and next thing i know#im making my way through queen of the damned and planned on reading all of Vampire chronicles#and it's unlocking something in me that's always been there and im going a little insane <3#never could figure out what is it about the fucked up elves from tolkien that got me so interested#until i realized that i actually just like beautiful tortured immortals who struggled with violence and are plagued with guilt#also i contracted lestat brainrot so please keep me in your prayers <3 i will never get better though <3#he's my rotten soldier. my sweet cheese. my good time boy. and the little sister i never wanted#listen you could never Get this character unless you are a messy bitch yourself or know a messy bitch like him#and let's say i have a friend <3#im pretty sure i used to own a copy of the vampire lestat back in high school and i literally never got around reading it#tbh i dont know if i could critically engage with anne rice's texts at the sweet and tender age of 15 though#also to be fair all i knew of Anne Rice back then was that she wouldn't allow fanfiction of her books#only reason i remembered this was that i knew 1. i bought an Anne Rice book 2. it started with annoyingly detailed description of some Guy#l also bought new moon aka second book of twilight trilogy before i knew it was a series#i thought it was some alluring sophisticated gothic horror. that had been a completely waste of money#for real though. i watched blade when i was a child and i came up with a half-elf hero for a original story -_-#i was very resilient to the vampire allure....but now i guess im finally ready to put my faery dream to rest#like little girls putting dolls into shipping boxes to be sealed up forever#part of me sort of wish i never read IWTV book after watching AMC's adptation though#i watched that show knowing fuck-all about IWTV and i enjoyed it a GREAT DEAL. zero complaints whatsoever#but now that i read 2.5 books of vampire chronicles. the show started to annoy me more and more smh#show!louis is significantly more sympathetic and genuinely tragic. but that wasn't book!louis#and by making louis. frankly a more likeable character. it defeats the purpose of the story of IWTV <3#like it basically became a story that looks like IWTV on the surface but is actually a whole new story and should be enjoyed as such#anyways VC will probably be the only vampire media i fuck with in the foreseeable future#might change my blog url to a general horror fiction related thing. haven't think of anything yet though#definitely gonna be more and more of a horror/dark fantasy blog. which is barely a change from what i always posted on here lol
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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more best friend james with no boundaries headcanons please 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 like sirius and remus definitely side eye the two of you but they don’t ever make it noticeable 🫢 they’re just waiting for the two of you to finally get together 😵‍💫 like james definitely rests his hands in between your thighs when he’s cold and remus is always muttering to sirius how that is definitely not best friend behaviour
Sirius and Remus stop in tandem, beat up shoes stomping to a halt in the middle of the floor. It would be comical if their gazes weren't so scrutinizing and judgmental towards you where you're curled up in James's bed.
"Are we interrupting something?" Remus raises a brow at you where you lay pressed to James's chest, his hands wrapped around your waist and tucked into the space between your thighs. He'd been griping about the chill of the air against his hands after realizing they wouldn't stay tucked into the sleeves of his sweater, so when he'd pried your thighs apart to slip his hands between them, you'd let him get his fill of your body heat.
"Jus' the most boring book I've ever read," James drawls, popping his head lazily off of the pillow to stare at his friends, "Don't even know why she reads this shit, anyways."
"I read it because I like it," You hum, used to James's disdain of your more 'boring' (read: not dangerous, reckless, or foolish) hobbies, "But I'm more curious as to why you read it over my shoulder, James, if it's so boring and awful."
"Not much choice," He reasons, but you both know he could shut his eyes if he wanted to be free from your novel, and you squeeze your thighs together in hopes of pressing his hands painfully together as a reprimand.
James makes a sort of stunted groan as his knuckles scrape painfully together, but when you release your grip, he doesn't pull away. He merely settles his head back against the pillow, eyes sneakily roving over the page you're reading.
"Remus, a word." Sirius grabs the man by his right scarred hand, tugging him towards the closet. They disappear inside together, and when the door shuts behind them, and Sirius manages to swat the sleeve of his leather jacket out of his face, he stares at Remus with wide, urgent eyes.
"Did you see that?" Sirius gawps, as if maybe Remus hadn't noticed James's hands resting inches from your core, "That is not normal friend behavior?"
"I bet two galleons they kiss within the month," Remus wagers with a smirk on his face, and the expression is contagious where it transfers to Sirius right away.
"Within the week," Sirius solidifies his stance, holding a hand out for Remus to shake, "You've got a deal, Moony."
--
The moment the closet door shuts behind Remus and Sirius, you crane your neck to look backwards at James.
"They're not even trying to hide it anymore," You breathe, keeping your voice low so that the two boys can't hear you, "What do you think they're doing in there?"
"Kissing, probably," James snorts, "Pulling someone into a closet by the hand is not normal friend behavior."
"When are they just gonna give it up?" You scoff, twisting back around to resume reading, "They're so obvious."
"Dunno, love." James hums, leaning forwards to press a kiss to your shoulder where your tank top has slid off of the skin there. He readjusts his hands between your thighs, nestling them imperceptibly closer to your heated core, "Some people are just oblivious."
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ubeb0nes · 2 months ago
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Sevika x Fem!Bar Owner! Reader
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You were new to Zaun. No one had seen you coming, nor your success as soon as you'd laid roots down. Most people who came here for opportunity and enterprise were mad inventors from Topside, or business sharks in the Chemtech and Shimmer industry.
But you? You just ran a bar.
…You were burying your past life as a smuggler in Bilgewater by moving to Zaun, but that was neither here nor there. People had come across wealth in more morally abhorrent ways.
You learned the ways of the Undercity quickly. It'd tried to teach you a swift lesson your very first week open, when a few crooks walked in and tried to threaten you into giving up what was in your cash till. Your trusty shotgun and a few thrown glasses had been an effective solution.
You were not gonna get scammed out a livelihood down here. You swore it to yourself. You were gonna make a space that was all your own, some place people could relax and be together since The Last Drop evidently wasn't that anymore.
Then she comes around.
You knew her face. You'd seen her walking around the Lanes while you were hunting for dishware and cutlery for cheap. You'd thought "smash", and then kept it moving.
You could tell she was important even then, with the way she stalked through a parting crowd. It was no different when she entered your bar for the first time.
"What's Silco's bloodhound doing here?" "God, Sevika? C'mon, let's get a corner booth in case shit goes to hell." "Uh oh, bar lady's in trouble with the higher up's." Your patrons were not helpful.
She sat at the bar, trying to talk you up. Trying to gain information, you realized. Yeah, you weren't new to this.
Sevika was intrigued, at the very least.
Silco had sent her to scope you out. Your business had been doing too well, too fast. If you had savvy, he wanted to know about it.
And you definitely did. She'd never admit it, but she was… charmed. As much as someone like her could be, at least.
You radiated quiet control behind the bar, a rag thrown over one shoulder and another hooked on your waist while you juggled multiple shouted drink orders effortlessly. All the while making banter with her.
She was still debating whether or not to report back truthfully to Silco when the bustle of a few kids walking in cut through her train of thoughts.
You talked them down from their hyperness in a swift moment, jutting your thumb to the kitchen in the back where, apparently, there was some sandwiches waiting for them.
You shrugged off the scrutinizing look she was giving you.
"Somebody's gotta feed them," is all you said. She sees somebody else's old fire, somebody she used to know, in your eyes for a moment.
"Owner's an airhead. Nothing to worry about. Definitely just a lucky break," she tells Silco later that night.
She lets you know subliminally that your bar is off limits. Some of her men patrol around your business's property, for your property. No one comes in demanding your profits anymore.
You don't need her protection, but you still appreciate it.
You start keeping cigarillos behind the bar for whenever she comes in. She's a little suspicious the first time you offer her one and a light.
"What, are you picky about the brand?" She almost laughs at that, and takes the offering.
One of your customers calls out asking how much for a cig. "Sorry my friend, they're exclusive for the pretty lady."
Sevika feels a pang of… something. What pretty lady are you talking about? She thought the cigarillos were for her- ohhhhh…
She starts smoking less. If only to make it a whole treat for herself to stop by your establishment every week, and let you hold open a lighter while she leans forward to light her smoke and talk with you for a bit.
Your establishment becomes for her what it's already become for everybody else in the city. A safe space. A comfort.
Your warmth was undeniable. And it reflected in your place of work too, polished and furnished with a care that Sevika remembers The Last Drop used to have.
This wasn't the first time she's lied to Silco, making the executive decision herself when she didn't trust his. She hoped it wouldn't come down on you.
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amazinglyashy · 3 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?
(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)
Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3
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LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street
Xavier -
He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.
There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.
He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.
So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.
He can't help it.
He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-
And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?
You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.
Zayne -
Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.
He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.
He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.
You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.
If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-
Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.
Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.
Rafayel -
He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.
If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.
He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.
The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.
He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.
He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-
And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.
Sylus -
I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.
Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-
But you knew.
You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.
For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.
No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.
Just a bit.
Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.
"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."
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weakformingyu · 9 months ago
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More than meets the eye
Pairing: Chan x afab!reader
Inspired by Prison for life by Olivia Rodrigo
Summary: Chan is a pushover when it comes to doing things for you, but not so much when someone messes with his girl.
Warning: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
A/N: let's thank Chili(@baby-yongbok) for this brainrot, she's the one who planted this idea in my head.
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Chan who's the sweetest person you have ever met, the one who blushed and stuttered when asking you out.
Chan who's always a gentleman, opening all the doors for you, pulling the chair so you can sit, throwing his coat over your shoulders so you won't get cold.
Chan who lingers a bit longer when he says goodbye to you after taking you back home, trying to gather the courage to kiss you.
Chan who's surprised by the way you grab him by the collar and crash your lips on his.
Chan who gets flustered when you ask him to come inside with you, so you can talk more.
Chan who can't help but feel his face on fire when you start undressing in front of him, not sure where he should put his hands.
Chan who eats you out slowly, enjoying every sound that comes out of your mouth, sure that he could make the prettiest song in the world with just your moans.
Chan who asks you to be his girlfriend the next morning, taking you by surprise when you wake up to a full table of breakfast.
Chris who loves to do everything for you, you want to stay home cuddling? Done, he'll make popcorn and prepare a list of rom-coms for you two to watch together. You want to go out with him and his friends? Sure, he'll make sure the guys are on their best behavior. You want to go shopping? Bet, he'll clean his schedule so he can spend the day buying you gifts, even though you always argue that you can buy things with your own money.
Chris who finds you amazing, you're strong, smart and capable, everything you have was earned with your hard work and he would never want to cross that line or take that away from you.
Chris who has to stand his friends making fun of him 'cause he's such a pushover when it comes to you. He would let you step on him if you asked him to and he would do it smiling.
Chris who loves to buy you flowers every time you have a date with him, so he always goes out of his way to buy you a bouquet.
Christopher who arrives late to your date because the flower shop messed up his order and witnesses a man grabbing you by the wrist while you argue with the stranger.
Christopher who sees red when he realizes what's happening, dropping the flowers and walking fast to where you are.
Christopher who puts his hand on the shoulder of the man, smiling softly and asking to talk to the man outside.
Christopher who's suddenly not a pushover anymore, not when it comes to someone messing with his girl.
Christopher who comes back inside after twenty minutes, dirty dress shirt and knuckles bloody.
Christopher who drags you out of the bar, hugging you tightly when the cold air outside hits your skin.
Christopher who fucks you in the backseat of his car, biting and marking you and calling you names, far different from the gentleman you are used to but you're not complaining.
Christopher who chants how much he loves you while you cum around his cock, overstimulated by the new side of your boyfriend that you're just getting to know.
Chris who helps you fix yourself so you can get out of the car to sit on the front seat, deciding that you should just grab some food on the drive thru and go home.
You're a feminist obviously, you don't need a man. But after that night you don't mind Chan saving you, you very much like his protection.
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ghsface · 4 months ago
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Same old love - Matt Sturniolo
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Sumary: You helped Nick paint his room but the smell didn't go away completely and you had nowhere to sleep. Matt offered to let you sleep with him and you didn't hesitate for a second.
Warnings: smut +18, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, wet dream (I don't know if that counts as a warning), unprotected sex (don't do it), soft!dom!matt, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, soft and funny end, rubbing, I think that's all.
A/n: Okay I wrote this without having any idea what it was going to be about but I feel like it's good but at the same time not so idk, and this is my first time writing a Matt fanfic or whatever you want to call it, btw if you didn't know I'm Matt Girl, I also wanted to tell you to leave me ideas here or in the inbox on my profile, since I'm running out of ideas.
⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧
You were at the Sturniolo house again, which wasn't unusual at all, spending more nights there than in your own house. You and the triplets were inseparable. That particular day, you had spent most of your time helping Nick paint his room, which had been more chaotic than you had expected. What had started out as a normal chore had turned into a paint war, leaving you completely covered in stains, from your face to your feet.
As the day was ending, you and Nick realized that the smell of fresh paint was still too strong to sleep in his room. Nick, hoping for a quick solution, went to ask Chris if they could share Matt's bed. After all, Matt had enough room and Nick thought it was the best option. But Chris, being Chris, flatly refused, starting a small argument in which a couple of insults were exchanged in a playful tone.
"Come on, Chris, don't be a jerk," Nick had said in frustration. “We just need a place to sleep, the smell in my room is disgusting.”
Chris looked at him with a mocking expression. “Why don’t you sleep on the couch or something? Matt needs his own space and he doesn’t want me sleeping with him anymore.”
“It’s not just me, there’s her too,” Nick explained. “I can’t make her sleep on the damn couch, Chris!”
“Well, that changes everything, doesn’t it?” Chris laughed mischievously. “No, not that.”
You just watched the scene, trying not to get too involved, but when the options started to run out, Matt stepped in.
“Now, Nick, forget it. She can sleep with me,” Matt said, looking at you with a mix of sympathy and calm. “It’s better if she stays in my room if there’s no other option.”
Although you tried to hide it, your heart started to beat faster at the thought. Sleeping with Matt… it wasn’t something that happened often, but you weren’t bothered by the idea in the slightest. There was something about Matt that had always attracted you, his way of being so sweet, but at the same time, it made you think there was something more hidden behind that good boy facade.
Once everything was sorted out, Matt lent you some clothes to change into since your clothes were covered in paint. The t-shirt he gave you smelled like him, a soft, comforting scent that you always liked. Along with some shorts, it looked like you were going to be comfortable that night, or at least that's what you thought.
After your skincare routine, Matt left you alone in the room to change in peace. That was what you liked most about him: always so considerate, such a gentleman. As you put on his clothes, a mix of nervousness and anticipation settled in your stomach. You knew Matt was sweet, but you had also felt a tension between you on more than one occasion. You couldn't deny that you were attracted to him, and although nothing had happened before, tonight you felt like something could be different.
When Matt came back into the room, the atmosphere changed. There was a brief awkward silence as you both climbed into bed. He kept a respectful distance at first, and you both exchanged a few words before sleep began to take over.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked you in that soft voice that always soothed you.
“Yes, thank you,” you replied with a smile, even though your mind was racing in a thousand directions.
Slowly, the two of you settled into bed, and soon silence filled the space. You felt the warmth of Matt’s body close to yours, and even though you tried to relax, you couldn’t help but think about how close you were. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on sleeping, but a strange sensation pulled you out of that state of tranquility.
At some point in the night, you felt Matt hug you from behind. It wasn’t unusual; you knew Matt always needed something to hug while he slept, and it didn’t bother you that it was you on this occasion.
What surprised you was the pressure on your lower back, a hardness you couldn’t ignore. You shifted your hips a little, trying to get yourself more comfortable, but as you did, that uncomfortable feeling in your lower back became more and more apparent.
It was a firm pressure, and although you tried to ignore it at first, you quickly realized that it wasn’t something that could go unnoticed for much longer. You shifted your hips slightly, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but as you did, the bulge in your back felt even more distinct. You paused for a second, taking in what was happening, and it was at that moment that your brain connected the dots: Matt was having a wet dream, and what you felt was his erection pressing against you.
Heat quickly rose to your cheeks, and you found yourself at a crossroads between two thoughts: the part of you that wanted to do the right thing and move so as not to make him uncomfortable, and the other part, the one that was already starting to get excited with the idea of ​​helping him, of provoking something more. You knew you shouldn't... but that same reason drove you even harder to continue.
You took a deep breath, allowing desire to take control. Slowly, you began to move your hips once again, this time with a purpose. Your ass rubbed against his erection, feeling how the hardness of his member molded perfectly to your body. At first, Matt didn't react beyond a soft grunt in his sleep, but it didn't take long for you to notice a change. His hands, which had previously rested relaxed on your waist, began to squeeze a little harder, pulling you towards him unconsciously.
Each movement of your hips became more intentional, rubbing against him slowly, enjoying the feeling of having him so close, so hard, and at your disposal. The pace was gentle at first, like a little experiment to see how far you could go without waking him up. But with each rub, the tension in the air became more palpable, and your body began to ask for more.
You bit your lip, feeling the heat between your legs increase. Just being so close to him, with his body pressed against yours, and the feeling of his erection growing more under your movements, was driving you crazy. You couldn't deny that you had fantasized about Matt before, but you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, so intimate and dangerous. However, now that you were here, you didn't want to stop.
You moved a little faster, feeling the friction begin to send small waves of pleasure through you. Every time your hips slid back, the bulge in his pants rubbed directly against your ass, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. It was an almost imperceptible sound, but loud enough for Matt, though still in his dream, to react. His grip on your waist tightened, and his body leaned forward slightly, as if he was unconsciously seeking more of you.
What surprised you was how hard he pulled you towards him, as if, even in his sleep, his body knew exactly what he wanted. You felt his breathing grow heavier behind you, his chest rising and falling faster as his hips instinctively began to move in response to your movements. He was rubbing against you now, almost matching the rhythm you had set, but doing so with a little more urgency, as if his body was begging for relief.
The pleasure of feeling him react in such a way made you move with more intensity. Your ass rubbed against him more purposefully, seeking to increase the friction. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the sensation, by the heat that was beginning to build in your abdomen and the tension that was growing with every second. You knew you were getting wet, and you couldn’t help it. Just being so close to Matt, teasing him like this, was taking a toll on you more than you had anticipated.
Suddenly, you felt Matt’s hips leaning closer to you, a low growl leaving his lips. You tensed slightly, wondering if he was about to wake up, but when there were no more rough movements, you decided to keep going. Slowly, you began to move again, this time with more pressure, making sure that every time you rubbed against him, his erection felt more directly against you. You were enjoying the power you had way too much at that moment, knowing that he was so vulnerable to your movements, so needy and oblivious to what was really going on.
A low moan left Matt’s throat as he leaned closer to you, and his hands slid down your waist, gripping you tighter. His breathing had become erratic, almost as if he was struggling to stay in that dream, but his body was already fully responding to what you were doing. You knew that if you kept this up, he wasn’t going to last much longer in this position.
So, in a moment of pure daring, you began to move faster, grinding against him in a way that provided as much pleasure to you as it did to him. The bulge in his pants rubbed directly against your ass, and the heat emanating from his body made you feel like you were going to explode at any moment.
It was then that you felt Matt's hands grip your hips in a more possessive manner, and his mouth moved closer to your ear. In a low, husky whisper, he said something that made you shiver from head to toe: "If you keep moving like that, I'm going to have to fuck you instead of staying still."
The way he said it, so charged with desire and need, made your entire body react immediately. The choice was now in your hands. And instead of stopping, you decided to continue teasing him. You moved your ass back, pressing yourself further against his erection, seeking the friction more intensely, making him grunt in pleasure against your neck.
Matt didn't hesitate for another second.
The moment your hips moved back, deliberately pressing yourself against him, everything changed. Matt stopped trying to keep still, his self-control finally giving in to the desire he had been suppressing. His breathing became even deeper and more erratic, and without another word, his hands gripped your hips tightly, pinning you against him.
You could feel the tension in his body increasing, the heat radiating from his skin, and that was when Matt began to move on his own. Slowly at first, his hips rocked forward, his erection sliding along your ass as his hands held you in place. The moan that escaped his lips was low, almost like a growl, and the intensity of his grip made you realize that, from that moment on, there was no turning back.
Your breathing quickened, pleasure and adrenaline coursing through your body as you felt Matt press harder against you. Every movement of his was more determined, more desperate. His erection rubbed against you with a firmness that drove you crazy, and every time he moved his hips, you felt the pleasure grow between your legs, as if your own body responded automatically to each touch.
"Fuck..." Matt whispered close to your ear, his voice husky and full of desire. His lips barely grazed the skin of your neck, but it was enough to send a shiver through your body. "You don't know what you're doing to me..."
The need in his voice made you bite your lip, and without thinking too much, you pushed your hips back, seeking more contact. The rubbing of his erection against your ass, the feeling of his possessive hands on you, and the heat of his body pressed against yours were making it increasingly difficult to stay calm. Your body was asking for more, begging for more.
Matt groaned as you moved, and in one swift motion, one of his hands moved down your belly to your thighs, caressing the bare skin that had been left exposed by the shorts he had lent you. The touch of his fingers, gentle but determined, sent a current of electricity straight to your core. You knew what was coming, and your body eagerly anticipated it.
“If you keep rubbing yourself like that…” he hissed, his voice deep and lust-laden, “I’m not going to be able to control myself.” But even though his words warned of what he was about to do, you didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. The tease was mutual now, and you both knew the situation was going to spiral out of control.
You moved your hips again, seeking the friction of his erection, and Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. With unexpected speed, he turned you on the bed so that you were facing him, your breathing ragged as you looked into his eyes. His were dark with desire, the tension evident in his features. The whole atmosphere had changed in a second, and now, the urgency between them was palpable.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper filled with need. His hands ran quickly over your body, sliding down your thighs, over your hips, and then up under the shirt he’d lent you, caressing the exposed skin. Every touch of his turned you on more, making the desire become unbearable.
And then, before you could process what was happening, Matt slipped a hand inside your shorts, his fingers brushing your crotch, finding you already wet with anticipation. You let out a soft moan as his fingers began to move, caressing you slowly, playing with the wetness there. You knew there was no hiding how much you wanted him right now.
"So wet..." he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers slid inside you, with an ease that made you shudder. "All this for me?"
You couldn't answer right away. The pleasure that was overwhelming you was too much, and the words were stuck in your throat. All you could do was let out a soft moan, your hips moving instinctively to seek more of his fingers.
Matt smiled darkly at the sight of you reacting that way, and without warning, he began to move faster, his fingers entering and exiting you at a pace that left you breathless. The pleasure enveloped you completely, and your body could do nothing but surrender to him, enjoying every second, every touch of his fingers.
"You know..." he began to say through clenched teeth, moving closer to you, his mouth just inches from yours, "I've wanted you like this for so long."
Matt held you tighter, his body still hot and sticky with sweat. His breathing was beginning to even out, but you could feel his heartbeat through his chest, still racing. The silence that followed felt comfortable, filled with that connection you both knew had been there all along, even if neither of you had admitted it before.
“This wasn’t a mistake, was it?” Matt asked after a few minutes, his tone vulnerable. As confident as he had been throughout the encounter, he now sounded a little unsure, like he was looking for confirmation that he hadn’t crossed a line he shouldn’t have.
You turned your head to look at him, noticing how his eyes watched you with a mix of curiosity and concern. You smiled softly at him, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek. “No, Matt. It wasn’t a mistake.”
He seemed to relax at your words, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Good. Because I don’t know if I could have held back any longer,” he admitted, laughing a little. “You’ve always driven me crazy, you know? But I never thought you… you’d want anything with me.”
You laughed softly at his confession, feeling relieved that he’d been suppressing all that desire as well. “And you think you weren’t giving me any signs? You always treated me differently than everyone else.”
Matt smiled mischievously, caressing the skin of your waist with his fingers. “And how do you want me to treat you now, after all this?”
You felt a shiver run through your body at his playful tone, and you moved closer to him, feeling his warmth against your bare skin. “I think you can treat me however you want now,” you replied, biting your lip as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.
He let out a low laugh, clearly satisfied with your answer, and then his lips sought yours, this time in a softer, more intimate kiss. There was no rush, no urgency like before, but the emotional intensity was still present. His lips moved against yours with a slowness that made you feel like they wanted to savor every second of that moment.
When the kiss broke, Matt stared at you, his dark eyes filled with something more than just desire. “This changes everything between us, you know?” he murmured, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I can’t see you the way I used to go back to you.”
“And I don’t want you to,” you admitted, your fingers gently playing with the edge of the sheet that covered both of your bodies. “Because I can’t see you the way I used to either.”
Matt smiled, that charming smile that always managed to disarm you, and kissed you once more, this time shorter but just as meaningful. “So… I guess we’ll have to keep this a secret for now.”
“Definitely. I don’t think Chris or Nick will take it well,” you laughed, imagining the chaos that would break out if they found out what had happened in that room.
“No way,” Matt agreed. “But honestly, it’s worth the risk.”
And with those words, you both fell silent, enjoying the quiet and closeness. There was no need for more words at that moment. What you had shared that night spoke for itself.
As you settled into his chest, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of everything that had changed between you. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but for some reason, that didn’t worry you. You were exactly where you wanted to be.
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in the warmth of Matt’s body, who continued to hold you close as if he never wanted to let you go. Still half asleep, you carefully stretched, trying not to wake Matt up. Every part of your body felt relaxed but, at the same time, aware of everything that had happened the night before. Your thoughts were a mix of contentment, happiness and a slight anxiety for what was to come next.
You got out of bed slowly, trying not to make a sound, but as you moved, Matt groaned softly and pulled you to stay next to him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured hoarsely, his hand still gripping your hip.
You laughed quietly, turning to face him. “I was just going to the bathroom, don’t worry.”
He narrowed his eyes, smiling softly before letting go and letting you go. “Okay. But don’t be long, I don’t want Chris or Nick to find you before I get up.”
“Too late for that,” you heard a familiar voice from the doorway. You turned quickly and there was Chris, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face.
“Chris!” you yelled, bringing your hands to your face, horrified at the thought that he might have heard something. Matt, on the other hand, just huffed, rolling his eyes before flopping back onto the bed.
“Well, well, well,” Chris began, crossing his arms. “Look who finally did it. Nick owes me twenty bucks.”
You frowned, not quite understanding. “What are you saying?”
Before Chris could respond, Nick appeared behind him, sporting an equally wicked grin. “I said I was going to stop by before the month was out. Chris bet they wouldn’t dare until Christmas, but look at them.”
“I can’t believe it,” Chris sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I lost the bet on you, Matt. And the worst thing is that all this time we knew how you felt.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at them both, incredulous. “What? They knew?”
Nick shrugged, smiling with a mischievous grin. “Well, you weren’t very subtle, to be honest. And Matt even less so. He always looked at you like you were the only person in the room.”
Chris laughed. “And not only that. We’ve been noticing for weeks how nervous you got whenever Matt was around. We realized you felt the same way.”
You looked at Matt, who was now sitting on the bed, rubbing his face as if trying to hide his embarrassment. “They knew all this time…?” you asked, unable to help but blush.
Matt sighed deeply, looking at his brothers with a mix of annoyance and resignation. “Yeah, they knew. They made my life miserable all this time, just to see when I was going to tell you.”
“I can’t believe it,” you murmured, still shocked by the fact that Chris and Nick knew about your feelings the whole time.
Nick walked over, inspecting you with a mischievous grin, and suddenly his gaze stopped at your neck. “Wait a second…” His grin widened and he started laughing. “Wow, Matt. Not only did you finally tell her how you felt, but you also left a mark of ownership.” Nick pointed a finger at your neck, and that’s when you noticed that you had several hickeys scattered all over the exposed skin.
You brought your hand to your neck, completely embarrassed. “Oh my god, Matt!”
Chris laughed even harder, leaning into the door frame. “Matt’s always been passionate. But boy did you leave a mark last night.”
Matt threw a pillow at his brothers from the bed, trying to keep calm. “Shut up, you idiots.”
Nick dodged the pillow, still laughing, and made his way over to you, giving you a light punch on the shoulder. “Hey, at least you won’t have to sleep in my room smelling like paint anymore.”
“Yeah, you have a new bed assigned now,” Chris added, winking at you. “And it looks like Matt isn’t going to let you go anytime soon.”
Matt let out a sigh, clearly resigned to the teasing. He then got up from the bed, walking over to you and placing a hand on your lower back. “Don’t mind them. They’re just a couple of kids.”
“I can’t believe they bet on this,” you said, still shaking your head in disbelief.
“Welcome to my life,” Matt murmured with a smile as he kissed you softly on the forehead. “But at least there are no more secrets now.”
Nick and Chris continued to laugh as they left the room, leaving Matt and you alone once again. Even though the teasing from his brothers had been intense, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Finally, everything was out in the open, and there was no need to hide how you felt about each other anymore.
“So… what do we do now?” you asked, looking up at him with a shy smile.
Matt smiled back at you, gently pulling your waist to bring you closer to him. “I think we can keep betting on how long it will take for Chris and Nick to stop bothering us.”
You let out a soft laugh, resting your forehead against his chest. “I guess we’ll just have to get used to that.”
“Definitely,” Matt whispered, leaning in to give you another kiss, softer and more loving this time. “But I promise it’ll be worth it.”
⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧
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